Chapter 4: Nightmares and Visions

Within the pristine, metal halls of the S.H.I.E.L.D helicarrier, was a small living quarters. Not much distinguished the room from all the others on board, only a gray leather-bound journal and a single picture frame on the nightstand next to the rock-hard cot in the corner of the room.

Kat sat on the bed, one knee tucked under her chin, the other remained lain out on the thin, rough sheets. Her slender fingers gently massage the healed bullet wound on her right leg that still ached from time to time and twist the pendants around her neck. A file lay open in front of her showing details of thermonuclear astrophysics and just about everything else she needed to know. 

Flipping through the pages in the folder, a report from the disastrous night caught her eye. She skipped over it, not needing to be reminded of what went. 

Reminded of what she didn't do. Of her failure.

Every second of it infected her mind constantly. Night and day. It infected her sleep giving her nightmares of failing her best friend, yet this time it wasn't just him. It was all of her family. Clint, Natasha, Coulson, Fury, Hill, Tony, and Pepper...all the people she had let down.

Each nightmare was just a repeat of the only family she had ever known telling her it was her fault, confirming her plaguing thoughts. Telling her she failed. And every time, left her heart burning to ashes as her nightmares fanned the flames of her never-ending guilt.

Each and every mirage would aim their weapon right between her eyes before firing and time would suddenly slow down, leaving the girl frozen to her spot and forcing her to wait in agony for her fate. All she could do was silently torture herself, drowning and suffocating herself in the anguish she believed she caused.

'You deserved this,' she would tell herself.

Soon, her surrogate families' eyes would lock on her. Yet instead of being met with icy-blue irises, signaling that their minds were not under their own control. It was the only comforting hope she could hold onto as she gazed at their cloudless eyes. But their eyes were completely normal. Their minds fully in their control, knowing exactly what they were doing.

That the only family she had ever known, hated her guts.

And she didn't blame them one bit.

Haunted by the images, she turned away from the picture clipped in Clint's dossier to see the one on her nightstand. Clint's natural greenish-blue orbs, Nat's blue, and her own golden ones hide behind the clear glass of the single picture frame.

The picture had been taken years ago during her weapons training and her preliminary combat training. Her petite, seven-year-old-self held a heavy handgun, wrapped tightly in her hands. 

Clint's strong arms, enormous compared to her own stick-thin pair, enveloped the small girl. His hands covering hers, helping keep its aim steady. Natasha, standing off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest with a slight smile on her lips. A smile that only the trio could bring out of each other.

When Kat was first recruited, Clint and Natasha had not only taken the responsibility to train her, but also to care for her. Many training sessions had taken place in the previous years, and one man, who had originally been assigned to document her progress, soon took an unexpected interest in her. Someone who considered her the daughter he had always wanted.

Phile Coulson would routinely observe her sessions, never missing a single meeting, watching from behind the protections of bullet-proof glass.

She had never even known of his presence until he had shown her the picture that now sits on her empty nightstand. Periodically, he would pull a new memory out of his blazer pocket, yet she could never recall him holding a camera or even being there in the first place. Although, out of all the memories frozen on those small pieces of paper, this one was her favorite.

It was always a wonderful mystery to her, how he managed to take the pictures without anyone seeing. And to be honest, she never wanted to solve it. It was nice to have a little surprise every once in a while. Unbeknownst to her, she still had plenty stored away that she still hadn't seen.

More normal than the others, the secret birthday parties that had been held behind Fury's back, their ice cream nights, and many pictures of Kat as a baby. Those he was planning on giving her later on as a gift.

Abruptly, Kat got to her feet and walked into the small bathroom. Standing in front of the sink, she bent over and turned the faucet on, allowing the liquid to gush out of the tap. The cold water poured into her outstretched hands, a few drops spilling over her fingers. 

She splashed the clear liquid onto her burning skin and righted herself. Keeping her eyes closed, she let the droplets run down her cheeks as she tried to let the guilt, shame, and memories wash away with it.

Out of the blue, a sharp pain erupted in her head. White stars danced in her vision as her legs buckled beneath her. Kat's knees collided with the hard, metal floor, but this time it wasn't a full rainbow like normal. 

This time they were completely blue. Ice Blue.

Flashes of two men, one more human looking than the other, appeared before her, the stars and planets surrounding them as they stood on a deserted and rocky planet. A hooded cloak covered the alien-looking man, his hands having more fingers than a human.

The other was a man in emerald and gold, a familiar Asgardian, standing a few feet away from the alien.

"The Chitauri grow restless." A raspy voice belonging to the hooded figure explained.

Her vision came back, the pain receding, but only for a millisecond. Pulsating, the pain and images returned.

"Let them goad themselves." Loki's voice replied.

Gone and back.

"You question him? He who put the scepter in your hands..."

Gone and back.

"...who gave you the ancient knowledge and new purpose?" The raspy voice continued.

Gone and back.

"I was a king!" 

Gone and back.

"If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you. You think you know pain. He will make you long for something as sweet as pain." The raspy voice finished, grasping at Loki's face. Katrina could feel the pads of his many fingers and the odd, rough texture of his skin on her own, making her flinch away, banding her head slightly on the wall next to her.

Then it was all...gone.

Just gone.

Author's Note: Hi! Thank you so much for the reads, votes, and comments. I hope you like this chapter, it gives a little bit more background on Katrina and her relationship with Clint, Natasha, and Coulson. 

I know that Kat's powers are described but not really where they come from or too much detail on what the general name is for. If anyone has any questions about them (and the answer isn't revealed in this book or future books) I will be happy to answer them! I had a lot of trouble finding ways to explain them without just blurting it out in an anticlimactic way. It's kind of up to interpretation too. 

So, again, I always love getting to talk about Katrina, so questions are totally welcomed. She's my favorite character that I have ever created, and I have so much planned for her, not only in this book but the ones that follow. So, I hope you enjoy her story!

-Mo <3