When Eleanor's eyes opened and the flashes of red were gone, she was flat on her back and very confused. The ceiling she was staring at was not the roof of the ship she had seen before her eyes had closed, and where was Wanda?

All of those thoughts suddenly escaped when she heard someone yelling outside followed by a thud. The yell was familiar and brought a lump to her throat that she desperately tried to push down. She sat up and took in her surroundings, seeing the familiar TV set with frog figurines placed next to it, and the same grey sofa that she used to sit on throughout her childhood. The same striped curtains were flapping in the wind with the windows wide open. This only confirmed that she knew who was screaming.

Her heart thumped as she immediately pushed herself into a standing position and ignored the pain that was tearing through her muscles as she bolted to the door. She frowned when looking at her hand that rested on the door handle, it was a lot smaller than it had been moments ago. And come to think of it, her entire being felt smaller than it had before.

She ripped her hand away from the handle and stared wide-eyed at it thinking that she was in a different body whilst taking frantic steps backwards, only stopping once her feet hit the bottom of the stairs. She stumbled slightly but managed to regain balance by grabbing onto the bannister.

The moment that she made contact with the white-painted wood, the door flew open on its own accord, making her let out a small screech when it slammed into the wall. She desperately wanted to run upstairs and hide in what would have been her bedroom, but her feet had a mind of their own and carried her to the front porch.

The identical sight made her want to let out a sob, but she couldn't. It was like her lungs were suddenly made of lead, no sound would escape her windpipe.

The scene in front of her portrayed a young Natasha crouching over Eleanor's now-dead father. Eleanor winced at the sound of the knife being dragged out and watched as Natasha slowly stood.

This was all playing out in the exact same way, Nat took notice of the younger-looking Eleanor and stared with soft eyes. Eleanor, against all odds, smiled at her slightly, knowing that the Natasha in front of her was the one currently in the Red Room and knew how badly she didn't want to be there doing this job. But as soon as she smiled Natasha's eyes darkened and she took swift, calculated steps towards her.

Eleanor let out a shaky breath as she tried to move backwards again, but just like before she was not in control of her own movements and so could only stare in horror as the young woman in front of her stalked towards her, looking at her as though she was her next meal.

She gulped when Natasha had reached her spot directly in front of her, and forced herself to look up. Due to the slight age gap, at this point in time, there was a few inches height difference between the two girls, only making Natasha seem all the more intimidating as she towered over Eleanor.

"Please...", Eleanor whispered as she stared up at her... wife? Though this only seemed to anger Nat more, who dropped the bloodied knife and scowled.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, giving Eleanor hope that she was not going to be attacked, but her thoughts seemed to jinx it, as Nat's cold hand swiftly wrapped itself around Eleanor's throat and lifted her into the air. She desperately clawed at Nat's hand to try and get some air into her lungs, but the older girl didn't seem to care, she bluntly spoke "No witnesses", and walked into the house, Eleanor still in hand.

"It's me", Eleanor choked out as she saw her vision get blurrier and blurrier with each passing second as Natasha continued walking them both through the house.

"Who?", Nat sounded sincere, but the small smirk on her face that Eleanor could just about make out suggested otherwise. She again frowned slightly when she felt her feet bumping against the stairs. Clearly, they were going up to the next floor. Natasha didn't seem to be wavering at all as she carried the young girl, her strength clearly showed in this display.

Eleanor had thought that this was all a dream that had been conjured up, but the pain was so real and so scary, that the only explanation that she could think of was that this was reality. The person in front of her, who would be the person that she would grow to love, was strangling her to death, and she was too powerless to stop it.

When Natasha reached Eleanor's childhood bedroom she loosened her grip slightly which allowed her sight to grow clearer. She felt her breath hitch as she stared into Nat's eyes, "See you in another life", the older girl muttered with pure venom.

Eleanor speechlessly watched as her bedroom walls started turning into blood, and screamed as she was thrown through the liquid wall. When she came out the other side she gasped and panted for air, desperately looking around at her surroundings. She was now in her other childhood bedroom in the cottage, and she now inhabited her adult body again.

She moved herself to be sat on her knees as she looked around, once again like in the last house the place seemed normal, but she didn't trust it. Hesitantly she stood and wiped her hands now soaked with sweat down her shirt as she moved towards the door.

Though when she took a step forward she was immediately stopped in her tracks when the framed portrait of her and her father started moving. Dumbfounded, she moved towards that instead and watched as herself as a young child moved out of the frame, and her father took centre stage.

He glowered at her as she moved forward and stopped directly in front of it. She felt her mouth go dry as her father tilted her head, once again feeling intimidated. "I cannot believe how you turned out", he spat, mouth quivering with pure rage.

Eleanor took a step back having not expected the sudden hostility. "What?", she breathed out as she balled the bottom of her shirt with her hands.

"You befriended and married the person who ripped us apart. So much for family honour", he chuckled dryly at the end before he crawled out of the frame and stood in front of Eleanor. Tears flooded her eyes as she saw her father again in person for the first time since she was fourteen.

The corners of her lips threatened to tug up briefly but was soon stopped when he lunged towards her and gripped her shirt. "What are you doing?!", she yelled as she was once again moved around the house against her will. Only this time, she was taken downstairs instead of up.

He tossed her to the floor in the living room and gestured with his hand for her to look behind her. She weakly shook her head, dreading what the man in front of her was going to make her see. "Look!", he screamed.

A shaky breath was let out, but she complied. Sobs began to wrack through her body as she saw her Aunt lifeless on the floor. "No", was muttered repeatedly as she shuffled closer to the one person in life she had left.

She was gone now too.

Her father began cackling behind her at seeing her break down. Eleanor slowly turned her head to face him with pure fury etched on her face. She wore a deep scowl, her nostrils flared, and her jaw was so tight she thought it was going to snap.

She stood and began marching toward her father, to do what, she didn't know. All she knew was that Sarah was gone, and he was laughing in her face about it.

When she was a few paces away, the scene once again changed. It looked like a void. All she could see was black nothingness, there was no way to tell which way was up and which was down. "Hello?", she called out in front of her, squinting her eyes as if that was going to help.

"El?", a battered, scratchy voice called out. Her body stiffened as goosebumps appeared, she would recognise that voice anywhere. She spun on her heels and spotted Natasha, now also an adult, bloody and bruised laying on the floor.

Nat smiled slightly when seeing Eleanor's face, but coughs immediately ripped their way through her chest. "Help me", she pleaded.

Eleanor nodded and immediately rushed forward in panic, but her efforts were once again stopped before she could reach her dying wife. The floor began to move and wrap its way around her ankles, holding her in place. She grunted and tried to move but it was no use. "El", Nat pleaded again.

"I'm coming, I promise", she again yanked her leg by clutching onto her shin and lifting, but her attempts were futile. She was not budging.

Her head snapped up when she heard footsteps and watched with dread as her father reappeared and walked towards the immobile body of Natasha. "Leave her alone", Eleanor tried, but he only grinned and shook his head.

"This is how you get revenge, Ellie", he spoke in a terrifyingly smooth tone as he pulled a dagger out of his jacket.

"No! Stay away from her", she screamed at him when seeing Natasha's features contort into fear when looking at her. She had never seen Natasha look so scared, and there was nothing that she could do.

Again, he shook his head and knelt beside Natasha. Eleanor desperately tugged at her legs to get them to just move, but each attempt made her sink farther into the floor. She was forced to watch as the dagger was sunk into Nat's chest, and sobbed at hearing her pained screams.

Her father disappeared a few moments later, leaving both women distraught on the ground, screaming as Natasha's life slowly faded away. Eleanor hopelessly reached forward and clawed at the floor to drag her forward. It was working, a sharp pang of hope built in her chest, she was about to reach Natasha.

She smiled slightly when her hand made contact with Nat's arm, but as soon as she had the light in her wife's eyes dimmed and her body went limp. "Nat?", she shook her arm. "No, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please come back. Come back to me". Sobs cut through her chest at an alarming rate to the point where she couldn't breathe. Her lungs were burning but she couldn't stop, not until her world went black again.

---

Eleanor's eyes snapped open and she could see the interior of the ship again, but she couldn't tell if it was real. If she was really there. What if it was just another scene change?

She looked around with blurry vision and noticed that she was kneeling down in the middle of the hallway, her hands desperately clutching onto the floor grates. She wanted to move, but couldn't find the energy to, her bones were tired, and she just wanted to succumb to darkness again.

"El?", she heard someone shout, but she froze. She thought that someone else was asking for help, she couldn't watch another person die. "El?", the voice came again, this time it was much softer and closer. Panic ran through her veins but she couldn't bring herself to look up.

Clint was staring down at her, noting how her breaths were laboured and there was a coating of sweat across her face. He also had Natasha next to him, who was frantically trying to escape his grasp by painfully clawing at his knuckles, not understanding that she was out of the nightmare as well.

He clutched onto her wrist tighter when she almost got away, he needed to get both of them out of there safely, and that wouldn't happen if Natasha made a run for it. "Nat", he started softly but had to repeat himself a few times for Natasha to briefly acknowledge him. "El's there", he pointed to her wife on the floor whose knuckles were whitening from the grip on the grates.

"El?", Nat repeated in a broken voice. Eleanor's body froze for a second time, but this time a whimper escaped her mouth, Nat sounded exactly like she had in the void before asking for help. "El's here?", Nat repeated as she searched Clint's face for a lie, but came up with nothing.

"Yeah, she's on the floor, see?", he again pointed to Eleanor, and this time Nat followed his hand and saw her with her own eyes.

Nat ripped her hand away from Clint, but this time he didn't try and grab her again, seeing that she was moving towards Eleanor. Even in Natasha's scared, dazed state she could see that Eleanor was just as afraid as she was.

With her own blurry vision, she knelt down and wrapped her arms around Eleanor's shaking frame. It took a few seconds but Eleanor let go of the grate and gingerly wrapped her arms around Nat. "You're here?", Eleanor whispered whilst her eyes darted around looking past Nat's shoulder.

The vulnerability that both women were showing was breaking Clint, he had never seen them like this in the many years that he had known them. Even though he hadn't been one of Wanda's victims he knew that whatever she had done had been absolutely terrifying.

He let them have a moment to comfort each other, but he really needed to get them off of the ship and hopefully join the others in the jet. He cleared his throat as he walked forward to let them know that he was approaching and softly touched Natasha's arm, "We need to go".

The two women barely nodded, but Clint spotted it. He aided them both into a standing position and linked arms with Natasha, and moved to link arms with Eleanor as well. They were very fragile and looked as though they could barely stand.

When Clint tried to reach for Eleanor to move her to his other side, Nat shook her head and looked to be in even more distress than a few moments ago as she clutched onto Eleanor's arm tighter. Clint nodded and got the message, allowing Nat to wrap both arms around Eleanor as they walked forward.

Eleanor did not put up a fight with Natasha's movements, she didn't want her to let go either. Her touch was the only thing reassuring her that there was a possibility that she was still alive, and that the nightmare wasn't real.

Clint still had an arm looped around one of Natasha's, but that arm was now being pressed against Eleanor's side. Logistically this would be a harder journey back to the jet, but he'd made it work.

Slowly they clambered out of the ship and moved across the mud with the jet in sight. It was an excruciatingly slow journey, and there were multiple times when either Eleanor's or Natasha's legs buckled and almost brought all three of them crashing down, but Clint somehow managed to keep them upright.

He wasn't even sure if the two knew where they were being led to, their eyes were glazed over and they seemed to be looking anywhere but the jet. Still, they had enough trust in Clint to get them to safety, so he was damn well certain that he would get them there.

The hatch of the jet was luckily already open, everyone was back, the only ones missing were Bruce and Tony. Clint was are of the reason for the men's absence. Wanda had gotten to Bruce and did the same thing that she did to the rest of the team. Hulk decided that his appearance would make everything better, and was now terrorising a city, with Tony being the only one to stop him. Hopefully.

Clint gently placed the two women into adjoining seats and moved away from them. Immediately they moved to hold each other out of survival instinct, but their gazes were still elsewhere, almost as though they were staring into an abyss.

Eleanor could feel Natasha's tight grasp on her, but couldn't see her, not really. With her vision so blurred all she could see were shapes ahead of her that were morphing into a reenactment of the nightmare she had just lived through. Natasha was the same, her body trembled as she tried to pull herself out of her own head. But it didn't work, in the back of their minds, they still believed that they weren't out of Wanda's hold.

Their intel was right about her being able to make people see their greatest fears. Eleanor had been forced to relive her worst memory with added trauma, had her father be livid with her for forgiving Natasha, saw a close family member dead, and then watched as Natasha was murdered by Eleanor's own flesh and blood.

As for Natasha, she had watched herself in the Red Room again, along with other defenceless young girls being trained, and relived being wheeled into the surgery room for the involuntary hysterectomy widows receive when graduating. To top it off, she was witness to Dreykov capturing Eleanor from SHIELD and then he forced Natasha to put a bullet through her to prove her loyalty to the Red Room.

Both women thought that they lost each other and they were going to make sure that Wanda wasn't going to get away with that.