Chapter Text
Despite the boldness of her promise, Natalya couldn't help but feel fearful as she paced the hallways of the Megalodon. H.I.V.E had been destroyed, all the children they could save aboard the vessel, and she needed some solace. She walked aimlessly, trying not to think about Nero, still unconscious, lying in the medical wing. She'd been kicked out an hour ago to go sleep and eat, and she hadn't done either of those things. She couldn't bring herself to.
Max should be fine. The chances of the procedures designed to patch him up not doing a good enough job, the chances of him dying now, were low. But low wasn't nothing, and if he died, it would be truly on her hands. Her fault that her.. father.. was dead. That bitch Anastasia was probably grinning down in hell.
She stared at her hands, almost certain she could see his blood staining her skin as it had when she'd pulled his body aboard the Megalodon. The deep red swam before her eyes, and unbidden, a memory emerged. Max reading her Macbeth on a long plane journey so she wouldn't panic at the enclosed space, putting effort into the voices, an impressive actor. A quote floated through her mind, apt for the red she swore stained her hands.
Out, damned spot, out, I say!
A bitter laugh caught in her throat, and she slumped against the wall, head thunking flatly against the cold metal. The energy drained out of her in an instant, leaving nothing but exhausted fear.
Max wouldn't die. He couldn't. She wouldn't let him.
And if he did.. she didn't know what she'd do.
She shook her head sharply to dispel the thought and pushed herself up, returning to pacing the corridors.
The thought came anyway, despite her best attempts. She thought of how Max was the only one who called her Natalya. Who saw her as more than Raven. Who saw her as Natalya, the person, not Raven the machine. She thought of how much she loved him and how much he loved her. She thought of fifteen years of memories and of what she couldn't lose. She thought and thought until she couldn't think anymore for the pain in her chest.
Footsteps clicked on the metal behind her. Without even thinking about it, she whirled around, hand already on her katanas before she realised who it was.
His expression was grave, and her jaw clenched.
“Darkdoom. Is he… is Max…” She couldn't force out the words, looking at him in desperate hopes that he'd say something. Deny her fears. Anything.
He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “I'm sorry, Raven. He.. didn't make it. Something went wrong during the surgery, it.. couldn't have been helped. He'd lost too much blood.”
She didn't scream immediately. Didn't sob. She just nodded mutedly, turned around, and walked away, as deep through the ship as she could. She walked as far as she could to get away from everyone.
The tears came hot and fast when she was away from him, pouring down her face, wrecked, broken sobs ripping themselves from her throat as she crumpled against the wall, falling to her knees. Her fingers dug into her face, clamping over her mouth, trying to push her grief back in as though it would change anything.
She knew it wouldn't.
He was gone.
And it was her fault.
She couldn't follow him. Not this time. Not into death. He would never forgive her for it.
So she'd stay and look after the children. Make sure that they, at least, didn't share his fate. She'd do what he would've done.
She swallowed, thickly, and shut it all away. She closed off her grief, her anger, her pain. She opened her eyes, and they were blank. There was nothing left behind her gaze.
Today was the day that Natalya Nero had lost everything. Today was the day Natalya Nero died
And only the machine remained. Raven.