A Twist Of Marvel || Infinity War

83. Alive

Naomi squinted, her vision blurring for a moment. She shut them again, a slight pain pounding in the back of her head. She opened her eyes to a painted white ceiling, chipped in some places, with a few stains. Naomi recognized it instantly.

She was in her bedroom. Naomi's eyebrows pinched together as she tried to force her thoughts out of the hazed, incoherent mess they were currently in. She was at home, somehow. The last thing the woman could recall was staring out over the sea of Avengers as a blue cloud overtook her sight. Naomi's frown deepened. She felt... heavy. Her thoughts moved sluggishly, and she could barely even bring herself to be panicked over the fact that she was in her own apartment, presumably in her dimension. Her body was sunken into the mattress, limbs heavy and throat thick. She was aware that there were several problems with her current situation, but for the life of her Naomi couldn't bring herself to get up, or even be overly concerned. She supposed that the past few weeks had desensitized her to strange situations, or perhaps the lack of coffee had finally caught up to her.

She sighed through her nose, and for a moment everything felt like a dream. Distantly, Naomi wondered if it actually was. But it couldn't have been. Naomi had never been a very vivid dreamer, and tended to forget things very quickly after she woke up. Besides, she didn't have the creativity to dream up getting drunk with Tony, or her late night talks with Loki, or the looks on everyone's faces just before she used the Space Stone. So no, Naomi figured it couldn't have been a dream.

She turned her head to the right, where she knew her alarm clock would be sitting on the bedside table. '1:46' it read. Not too concerning, Naomi had slept in later than that before. With a  grunt, Naomi pulled her arms up to her sides to prop her up into a sitting position. However when she pressed her fingers into the mattress, a stiff jolt of pain forced her to stop. She pressed her lips together, opting instead to force herself upward without her arms support. Slumping over, Naomi looked down at herself, realizing she was still in the Asgardian armor she had worn into the battle. Another confirmation that she hadn't been dreaming, but her focus was quickly stolen away from her clothes by the white bandaging wrapped around her arms.

Naomi's head cleared as a wave of concern washed over her, biting her bottom lip nervously. What appeared to be medical tape was wrapped tightly around the entirely of her arms from the elbows down. She turned her arms over carefully, looking over the bandages with some suspicion. One thing was for sure, Naomi hadn't done them. Not only would she be unable to wrap her arms this well, she had no memory of doing it, and knew that she didn't keep medical tape in her apartment. It was concerning, yes, but for the moment Naomi pushed it aside and focused on her hands. She hadn't noticed at first, but her forearms felt heavier than usual, and her fingers were extremely stiff, making her wince anytime she tried to move them.

Still staring at her covered arms, Naomi considered that they were injured due to her use of the stone. In all honesty, she hadn't thought about the consequences of using an Infinity Stone before she had done it, she simply gripped onto the blue stone, and willed it to take her away. Reflecting, Naomi realized with a frown that she hadn't even thought about a location for the stone to bring her to. It was nothing short of a miracle that she survived using the stone, and ended up in her own home on top of it. She knew that she should be grateful, and Naomi was relieved that she wasn't dead, but the revelation that she was largely unharmed and in her own dimension simply stacked onto her worries.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Naomi swung her legs over the side of her bed, a vague panic setting into her. The full and total reality of the situation dawned upon her as she stood, stumbling slightly. Shit, she was in her own dimension, and shit everyone probably though she was dead. She probably should be, Naomi thought as she staggered out of her room, her thoughts becoming fast paced and abstract. She instinctually reached her hand up to run it through her hair, but flexing her fingers sent another stab of pain through her hand, so she let it fall lax with a wince.