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NIGHTMARES didn't escape Melanie as she laid her down each night.

For seven consecutive nights, she woke up screaming or crying — and on the fourth morning after a particularly intense nightmare, she puked — and there was little anyone could do to console her.

It wasn't like they didn't try. Each Avenger seemed to take responsibility for her nightmares, blaming themselves for her issues.

As if it were them that frightened her.

But the rings under her eyes and jump at loud noises said it all.

Natasha felt the worst.

She hadn't seen Melanie since her return back to the Tower, and Steve said she blamed herself. Melanie texted her multiple times but recieved no response.

She didn't blame her girlfriend, though. Steve said she had more trauma than anyone in the tower and the idea of her soulmate enduring it — as Melanie wouldn't confess what her actual nightmares were about (mostly because she hadn't a clue where they'd come from or what they meant) — sent her spiraling.

Clint took on responsibilities of cooking. That sent Melanie into a whirlwind; her one purpose at the compound entirely diminished if Clint could cook.

Tony was the one to stop her crying, promising that she was everyone's favorite person — and if she ever brought it up again, he'd deny it to the grave — and the Avengers wouldn't be the same without her.

But with each smile came another tremor.

By the eighth night, Melanie was scared to sleep. Hands curled around a mug of hot coffee with a scary movie on to keep her adrenaline pumped, she jumped when someone appeared next to her.

"Why haven't you slept?"

Melanie glared at Loki, too exhausted to maintain niceties. "What?" She asked, grabbing a tissue and cleaning the spilled coffee from her shirt. She grumbled in irritation but he waved his hand and the mess dissipated. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Did you do that?"

"No, it was your stuffed unicorn."

"Sarcasm is only funny if you're good at it."

"And the kitten has claws," he observed her for a moment. "You look terrible."

Melanie rolled her eyes. "You look terrible," she countered, then shrank a bit. "You look handsome as always," she amended. "I'm sorry for being mean."

"Why must you do that?" He questioned, eyes narrowed.

"What?" Melanie asked with a frown.

Loki sighed in annoyance. "Be so...apologetic. About your own feelings. If you'd like to be crass with me, be my guest. Everyone else is."

"I don't want to be," Melanie informed him. "I want to be your friend."

"I don't have friends."

"Maybe we could start?" She suggested.

He eyed her for a moment. "You need sleep. You're delirious."

"Am not."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I haven't the time to argue."

But he didn't move.

"What do you do all day?" Melanie asked curiously, stifling a yawn before taking another sip of her coffee. "Alone in your room."

"Things."

"Such as?"

Loki scoffed. "I am not telling you."

"Is it..." she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Dirty things?"

A snort left his mouth and he chuckled. Melanie quite liked the sound.

"You amuse me."

"You fascinate me," Melanie blurted out.

Loki hummed. "Do I?"

"Yes," Melanie nodded. "How'd you get into my room?" Her eyes narrowed. "I thought your magic was gone."

"It's never gone," he replied, observing her movie. "What is this?"

"The Exorcist," she replied. "It's very scary."

"It's horrific," he grimaced. "Why does that child look like that? Is this what humans do for amusement?"

"Yeah," Melanie nodded. "What, do Asgardians go berry-picking?"

Loki grinned, looking at her again. "You're much more fun when you don't hide yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Melanie asked.

Loki pondered her question for a moment. "Why haven't you slept?" He asked instead.

"Nightmares," Melanie shrugged, a solemn look crossing her face. "I don't know whose they are."

"The Widow's?" Loki suggested with a raised eyebrow. "Her life is full of agony."

"No," Melanie replied harshly. "Nat's perfect." A sad smile lifted her lips. "I miss her."

"She's downstairs," Loki looked unimpressed. "Go and get her."

"But she's avoiding me."

"Pity," Loki replied with an eye roll.

"Why are you being nice to me?" Melanie asked cautiously. "You're in my bed...being nice."

Loki shifted, uncomfortable with her question. "Does a raised heartbeat and scary movie not ensure your lack of sleep?" He asked.

"Another question," Melanie observed. "I don't want to sleep."

"And yet," he pointed out, "your body requires it. Such a waste to neglect your basic needs. So human."

Melanie watched him for a moment, noticing the dark under his eyes, the pallor of his skin.

"You need it too," she replied softly.

He didn't look at her.

"Perhaps we'll avoid it together."

"As friends?"

"Must you be so annoying?"

—

Melanie woke to a knock at the door. Groggily, she blinked into a seated position and frowned, realizing she was alone. And she hadn't woken up screaming.

"Mel?" Nat's voice called through the door. "Can I come in?"

Melanie rushed to the door, tangling her leg in the sheet and tripping, landing face first on the ground. Hands were on her cheeks a second later.

"You okay, милый?"

Melanie nodded, leaning into Nat's touch and smiling at the concern on her face.

"Hi," Melanie breathed out, blood rushing to her cheeks at the soft gaze in her girlfriend's eyes. "You're pretty."

Natasha smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Melanie's head. "Sleep okay?"

Melanie nodded, moving forward and burying her face in Natasha's neck. A soft sigh escaped Natasha, and arms wrapped around Melanie gently, pulling her close. She gently ran her fingers through Melanie's hair and allowed herself to fall back, sitting on the floor. Melanie wrapped her legs around Natasha, snuggling close.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," Natasha said after a moment, cutting through the silence.

"It's okay," Melanie replied quietly.

"No," Natasha pressed a soft kiss to Melanie's temple. "It's not. I'm not...good at this whole communication thing. But I don't want to mess this up."

"I'd never let you," Melanie pressed a kiss to Natasha's neck, her lips grazing skin above the line of her sweater.

"You're cute that way," Natasha responded softly, her grip on Melanie tightening a moment. "Are the dreams about me?"

"No," Melanie shook her head, tightening her grip on Natasha. Tears filled her gaze as bloodied hands and gunshot wounds flashed behind her eyes. "It's not you."

"Then what are they of?"

Melanie was quiet for a long time. She wasn't even sure how to tell her girlfriend of her dreams. How does one describe the most horrific thing she'd ever known? Was it her future? Who's hands were they? Why was Melanie tormented by the crimes they'd committed.

"A lot of people die," Melanie relinquished finally, her voice quiet and dejected. "There's so much blood and I—I never clean it...and I have a...metal hand and...and there's so much screaming and...I feel so helpless and-and inhuman and..."

Natasha stiffened against Melanie. "What?" She asked softly. "A metal hand? Only one?"

Melanie nodded. "I don't know why I'm having them."

Natasha didn't respond immediately. Melanie didn't think she would at all. She settled into silence of her own fears, her mind recapping her nightly haunts with a resigned understanding that there would be no escaping the nightmares. Not unless they either became reality or stopped being it.

"I don't know either," Natasha's voice was strained, like something had swallowed her bravery and replaced it with hesitation.

Melanie always believed Natasha had been honest with her — to the extent that she could be.

Melanie didn't believe Natasha was being honest now.

—

TRANSLATIONS:
милый - sweetie

ooooooh some angst because y'all know it's all i write lmaooo.
hopefully you guys enjoyed this!!! got some softer loki because he's just a little baby when he wants to be. and some angsty nat because baby's a black cat at her best.
also! if you like star wars and the mcu, check out my new story!
love yall <3333