Nora sat in the dimly lit room, her back pressed against the cold wall, knees pulled tight against her chest. The darkness felt like a shroud that was trying to swallow her whole. But it was nothing compared to the void that had been formed inside her. Her tears had long since dried, leaving her skin tight and raw, her eyes burning from the endless hours of crying.

She had destroyed him. She had destroyed everything.

The utter devastation on Tony's face flashed in front of her–his eyes, that always used to look at her like she was his everything, filled with love and adoration she knew she never deserved were then looking at her like she had crushed his soul. It had been etched into her soul, the wound bleeding with every breath she took.

She could still hear his voice–laced with coldness, bitterness and venom that she knew she deserved.

And yet she couldn't bring herself to look away from the photo that hung at her bedside, clicked on the day of her birthday. With Tony looking at her like she was the only one he can see, and her lips grazed by a bright smile.

Her hand found the cold stone that pressed against her neck, holding onto the sapphire like it was the only thing keeping her from falling into pieces.

God, what had she done?

Why did the universe in all its cruelty make her the person that had snatched away everything from him?

All while, snatching away everything from her too.

Every minute that passed since Tony walked away felt like an eternity. She could barely breathe, her chest tightening with each second that ticked by. She wanted to scream, to beg, to plead for a chance to undo it all.

Would he ever forgive her?

She doubted that, how could he? When she had killed his mother. His mother, the woman who had nurtured him, who had shown him love, the woman who he mourned every day silently– and she had been the one who had taken her away from him.

A fresh wave of nausea rolled through her at the thought, and she leaned her head against her knees, shaking uncontrollably. She wanted to disappear, to dissolve into nothingness, because how could she continue to exist knowing she had caused him that kind of pain?

She shrink into herself even more, when the thought of her own family came back to her. How her mother would gently guide her hands and teach her how to use her powers, how her father calloused hands would gently brush back her hair when he would kiss her forehead at night. How her sister would hold her finger while she played with her toys.

She pressed her hands against her eyes feeling more tears pilling up. God, she had forgotten them for twenty years, but now every wound felt like it was too raw.

She wanted them by her side, wanted her mother to guide her, to tell her that everything would be alright. She wanted to see her father, for him to tell her that he loves her, that her hands that are tainted by more darkness than she ever imagined are still capable of being loved. She wanted Zenovia to look at her with her innocent eyes and ask her to play with her like nothing was wrong.

God...she didn't care if they would tell her how she is meant to receive hate or even slap her, she just wanted to see them one last time.

Every minute of the next day was a new kind of torture. She hadn't slept, couldn't. She couldn't eat either—her stomach twisted violently at the mere thought of food. She wandered the halls like a ghost, afraid to run into anyone, terrified of what they might say, terrified they would ask about Tony.

Terrified that they would also look at her like he did, that she would also lose them.

She didn't think she could bear more pain than she was already suffering from.

She thought of making breakfast for the team—her small way of taking care of them, of taking care of Tony. It was something so ordinary, so routine, and yet... she couldn't bring herself to do it today. She couldn't bring herself to step into the kitchen where he had hugged her from behind so many times, had tucked his neck into her and whispered sweet words in her ears. She couldn't bring herself to see the chair he used, the table where he had hold her hand or kept his hand on her knee countless times.

Those mornings had been sacred to her, a time where she could feel connected to him in a way that went beyond words. But now, she couldn't imagine anything more painful.

She spent the day pacing, her thoughts spiraling in every direction, her body too restless to stay still, yet too drained to do anything but wander. She thought about going to him, begging for his forgiveness again, telling him how sorry she was, how much she loved him. But every time she thought of his face—his broken, shattered expression—her resolve crumbled.

Would he even want to see her? Or would he hate her even more?

The thought made her heart feel like it was being squeezed in a vice. She tried to convince herself that he needed time, that he just needed to process everything. But deep down, she feared that time wouldn't be enough. She feared that nothing would ever be enough to make this right.

By the evening, her body was trembling from exhaustion, but her mind refused to give her any peace. The guilt was like a living thing, gnawing at her insides, tearing her apart from the inside out. She wandered outside, the cool night air biting at her skin, but even that didn't soothe the fire of anguish burning in her chest.

She had thought about leaving—thought about sparing Tony the sight of her, the reminder of what she had done. Maybe it would be better if she disappeared, let him heal without her around. But the thought of leaving him was just as painful. How could she walk away from the person she loved more than anything?

Nora sat down on the cold ground, staring blankly up at the stars. She wished she could be anywhere but here. Wished she could turn back time, undo everything, take back the truth that had torn them apart.

***

Even the next morning was no easier.

She somehow managed to make breakfast for the team, she could feel that they had noticed her state– she was sure they had, she didn't think she looked better than a zombie. But she had pushed herself, trying to fake smiles that she knew were as broken as she feel, while she served them breakfast.

But when she stood at the kitchen counter looking at the empty chair–the chair that was never empty since the day she had come, oxygen left her lungs. She stood frozen at the doorway, the emptiness of the space mirroring the emptiness inside her.

Her hands shook as she gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white. Tony wasn't there. He didn't come for breakfast, didn't sit at his usual place with his sarcastic comments and gentle teasing. And that hurt even more. He was avoiding her. She knew he would. Why would he want to see her after what she had done?

But knowing it didn't make it hurt any less.

Nora leaned against the counter, her breath shallow, fighting the wave of nausea that surged through her. She tried to steady herself, but every second that passed without him there felt like a knife twisting deeper into her chest. She wanted to scream, to cry, to make it all stop. But no matter how much she wished for the pain to end, it only grew, feeding off her every thought, her every regret.

Hours passed, and she found herself wandering aimlessly through the tower, the familiar halls now feeling foreign, distant. Every corner she turned, she expected to see him, hear his voice. But he was nowhere to be found. The weight of his absence crushed her, suffocating her with every step.

The day dragged on in a haze of anguish, and by nightfall, Nora found herself back in the same spot where Tony had confronted her. She sank to the floor again, her back against the wall, her heart feeling like it had been torn out of her chest.

She hadn't felt this alone in a long time.

And she didn't know how to fix it.

The next few days passed in a blur.

The bar's low hum of voices and clinking glasses felt distant to Nora, like she was trapped in a bubble of silence where nothing could pierce through the fog clouding her mind. Her fingers traced the rim of the half-empty glass in front of her, her thoughts swirling in time with the amber liquid. It had been hours since she arrived,trying to seek refuge in the chaos, but all she found was the sharp sting of memories and regrets, gnawing at her like a constant ache.

Natasha sat quietly beside her, patient, just close enough to let Nora know she wasn't alone, but not pushing her to speak. She knew Nora wasn't ready yet, wasn't ready to release the words that would unlock the flood of emotions she was holding in. Instead, Natasha stayed still, giving Nora space to navigate her own storm.

The alcohol barely dulled the edges of the pain—if anything, it seemed to sharpen them, making each breath feel heavier, each heartbeat more hollow. Nora stared blankly ahead, her mind replaying everything—every smile Tony had given her, every shared glance, every whispered word. And now, the deafening silence that had taken its place.

Her heart was a cold, twisted knot in her chest. For a moment, she pressed her forehead against the cold surface of the bar, eyes shut tight, as if she could somehow will the pain away. But it clung to her like a second skin.

"I thought I could drink it away," she muttered, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the noise of the bar.

Natasha's gaze softened, but she didn't speak yet.

"I thought... I could drown it out," Nora continued, her words slurring slightly, her breath shaky. "But all I'm doing is... drowning in it,"

There was no anger in her tone, no fire left in her to resist. Only this dull, overwhelming sadness that felt endless. She hadn't touched her drink in a while now, and the numbness she sought never came. Instead, the weight in her chest grew heavier with every passing second.

"Nora," Natasha placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "you have survived things most people can't even dream of, you are strong, you will live through this too,"

Nora raised her head to look at her, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as new tears resurface, "Live? I wasn't living before, Natasha. Breathing? Yes, but not living. He had made me feel alive, had given me a soul," her voice broke, as she kept a hand on her chest trying to hold herself together, "and I can't feel it now, Nat, I can't–....feel it now,"

Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but Nora didn't let her. "Don't," she whispered, her hand shaking as she waved Natasha off. "Don't tell me it wasn't my fault. Don't say it. I... I was supposed to save him. I was supposed to be there. And now he's gone. And I'm... still here. Stuck in this body... breathing. But it doesn't feel like living anymore. I'm just... here,"

She let out a hollow, bitter laugh, shaking her head against the bar, her voice breaking completely. "He made me feel alive... and now... now it's like I don't even have a soul anymore. It's gone... he's taken it with him,"

Nora's shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked her body, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the bar, as if it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely. Natasha leaned in slightly, her hand resting gently on Nora's back, waiting for her to continue.

"I hate this," Nora whispered, her voice raw, barely audible. "I hate how much I miss him... how much it hurts to even breathe. I hate that I'm still here without him." She pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to stop the tears, but they kept coming, relentlessly. "And I hate myself for it. For being the cause of it all. For still..." She trailed off, her words lost in the sea of grief that threatened to pull her under.

Natasha finally spoke, her voice soft, but steady. "Nora... you're allowed to grieve. You're allowed to be broken right now. But this? This isn't you. You're stronger than this. You've survived more than most people could handle,"

But Nora wasn't ready to hear that. She shook her head, burying her face in her arms, muffling her words. "I don't feel strong. I don't even feel human anymore,"

The weight of everything—her failures, her regrets, the gaping hole Tony's absence had left in her—crushed her, piece by piece, until she felt like nothing but dust. She didn't lift her head, didn't want Natasha to see the wreckage she'd become.

"I don't even know who I am anymore without him..." Nora whispered through sobs, her voice so small it felt like it was vanishing into the darkness.

Natasha's heart ached for her. She knew this feeling, knew it well. But Nora wasn't ready for the comfort yet. All Natasha could do was stay, be there when the storm passed, however long that would take. She kept her hand on Nora's back, a quiet anchor in the chaos of her grief.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silent sobs, Nora's voice trembled again, asking the question that haunted her most. "Do you think... do you think he regretted it?" Her voice cracked, the weight of her doubt heavy in the air. "Do you think he regretted being with me?"

Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, the depth of Nora's pain so raw, so palpable, it was hard to bear. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell Nora the truth, but Nora cut her off again.

"Don't," she whispered, shaking her head slowly. "Don't answer that." She let out another shaky breath, her chest rising and falling unevenly. "I don't think I would be able to bear it,"

"He must have regretted it, Nat." Her voice was almost a whisper, each word like a wound she didn't have the strength to hide, "How could he not?" she whispered struggling to keep herself from crumbling completely, "I was the reason... the reason his parents aren't here. Because of me, Nat. How could he... how could he forgive that? How could he ever look at me and not hate me for it?"

Nora's hands clenched into fists on the table, and her eyes closed, letting the tidal wave of guilt wash over her. She had kept it buried for so long, and now, in the hollow glow of the bar, the words came crashing down,"He lost everything because of me. He lost them, Nat... I never wanted to, God, I never wanted to be the reason for him falling apart,"

Her voice softened, wavering. "But we had these moments, you know,these... perfect little pockets of time." Her mouth curved, barely, as she recalled the memories, bittersweet and beautiful, now broken glass piercing through her. She never thought she would share them with someone, but now sharing them felt like the only way to remember that they were true, that he was once her's, "There were these mornings when he'd wrap his arms around me from behind while I was making breakfast. He'd tuck his head into my neck, and we'd just stand there... quiet, like we were the only ones in the world.

"Sometimes, I'd try to pull away because I knew he had work, but he'd tighten his hold, whisper, 'Just a little longer,' like he never wanted to let me go," she swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "But he did... he let go. Not like I didn't deserved it,"

She took another swig of her drink, her hand trembling as she set the glass down, letting her forehead rest on the col counter, "And at night... he was different. He'd trace his fingers over my skin like he was memorizing me, like he wanted every inch of me burned into his memory. I'd see this look in his eyes—possessive, almost desperate—and he'd say I was his, only his. And I'd believe it because... because he made me feel like he'd walk through hell before he'd leave," she bit down on her lip, choking back a sob. "God, and I was the one who led him to that hell, who made his life a hell, even though both of us didn't knew that then,"

Natasha reached out, placing a steadying hand on Nora's arm, but Nora didn't seem to notice. She stared down at her hands, watching them blur through the tears that wouldn't stop falling. "There was this one time..." she laughed bitterly, shaking her head, "he kissed me in the middle of an argument. I was mad at him for something—probably something stupid. But he just... he just pulled me in, his hands in my hair, kissing me like it was the last thing he'd ever do. And for a moment, I forgot everything. It was like... nothing else mattered. Like I was his world, and he was mine,"

The laugh faded, leaving only a hollow ache in its place, "He was my home Nat," she whispered, her voice broken, "he was my home, and I had destroyed it. I was the reason that light had gone away from his life,"

Nora stilled, when she felt Natsha hugging her, before she broke completely, clinging onto her like she might fall apart if she didn't, "God, nat, if I can erase his pain I will do anything, even give my life."

It would mean that she would be giving a happy home to her life, after all. 

a/n: don't forget to press the star and make it happy <3
at least someone should be...because we aren't.