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Yelena froze in bed as soon as she woke up. Her eyes were open, but her field of vision was pitch black, just pure darkness.
"What...? Where am I? Where...Where is everyone?"
She sat up unsteadily, knocking something down in the process. The noise caused her to flinch, and her muscles tensed up as she frantically turned her head this way and that.
"Dad? Bucky? Ava? Walker?"
She tried to stand up but fell off the bed, collapsing to a carpeted floor. Her breath quickened in panic, and she reached everywhere for a handle or a hand—something she could hold onto.
"Bob...Bob! Are you there? Please tell me you're there. Bob!"
"Yelena?"
She froze again at the sudden response, the familiar voice. There was a surge of relief, and she picked her head up in anticipation.
A pair of feet approached her quickly, and a door opened with a creak.
"Yelena, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here," the voice whispered softly, along with a warm embrace that enveloped her shivering body in love.
"Bob...? I-Is that you?"
"It's me, yeah. It's Bob."
Yelena's heart was gradually calmed by the hand rubbing her back, and she clung to that same large body she had wrapped her arms around just this morning.
"Bob, what's happened to me? Why can't I see you? Why can't I see anything?" she said with tears in her eyes.
Bob gently pulled away and cupped her cheek with his other hand as he replied, "The guy you were fighting earlier...he used this special type of flash grenade, and you were blinded by it...pretty bad. Bucky said your eyes probably won't heal until tomorrow."
"Oh..." Yelena said, tilting her head downward.
"But don't worry. The others took care of the target, and we're back in the tower, and...and I'll be here with you the whole time."
Yelena smiled and reached for Bob's face, feeling the reassuring contours of his cheek.
"...Thank you."
"Of course. Here, let me help you get back in bed."
Bob took Yelena's hand and slowly pulled her up, leading her toward the bed and supporting her as she lay down with a sigh.
"All right, uh..." Bob said, his grip on Yelena's hand loosening. He sounded like he wasn't sure what to do from here.
Yelena tightened her grip in turn, saying firmly and pleadingly, "Stay. I don't want to be alone."
Bob paused for a moment, interlocking his fingers with hers, and whispered, "Okay," as he sat down beside her.
After a while of silence, Yelena said, "Talk to me, Bob. Tell me a story."
"A story? What kind?"
"Anything. A story about you."
"I don't know...I don't think I have many interesting stories to tell."
"Sure you do. Let's see...how about a story of your first love?"
"Oh, no. I do not want to talk about that. It's...really bad."
"Come on, Bob. Let me hear it. I want to know more about you."
Yelena could hear Bob sighing and scratching his head.
"...Promise you won't make fun of me later on?"
"I promise."
"Okay, then..." Bob took a deep breath and repositioned himself before he began. "This happened when I was in junior high..."
Yelena listened with her eyes closed, the blissful music of her beloved filling her ears with joy, his large, warm hand anchoring her to this tranquil reality. She felt him with every part of her body, the light that pierced through the darkness and reminded her that she was not alone.