In their haste to get to Thanos, she'd lost track of Fenrir and Loki, and Thor had propelled himself forward to take on those who surrounded the Titan. Jane had hung back to deal with those on the perimeter, any who sought to take advantage of the army's back being turned to them, and so it left Natasha at Emma's side, with Anna-Marie just up ahead using her power to get into the enemy's head through the intelligence given to the pawns that they'd sent forward. For the most part there didn't seem to be much to be learned; Thanos was too clever to tell all of his men just what was happening, and so they worked to cut down as many as they could, marauder and Kree, remaining Skrull and Chitauri alike. She needed to get up ahead, though, needed to check on the rest of her people, to see just what else needed to be done. Clint was still shouting formations that were coming from Thanos' army, but with so many of their own forces flanking him and cutting him off, she didn't suppose he stood much of a chance.

The appearance of the Other, however, was a surprise. She felt him, felt the sickness that seemed to crawl on his skin, before she saw him, and it was only because of that that she managed to duck low enough to avoid the scythe that would've otherwise cut her in half. He shifted to the side when she aimed her own blade at where his legs had been, wicked fast and difficult to pin down, and she had to drop and roll off to the side to avoid the downward slash of his blade once again. She ended in a crouch, toes digging into the dirt, lips twisted in a snarl as she stared up at the husk of a man. His face might've been hidden behind a mask but she could see a growl of displeasure already contorting his mouth.

"You have been nothing but a thorn in the side of myself and Thanos since your creation," he spat, voice a contorted concoction of fury and exhaustion that she thought she could play on, even as he whiped the scythe around his body, using his own form so that the blade created a whirlwind around him that forced her to flip backwards in order to avoid it. When he tried to bring it crashing down on her once more she brought her blades forward and caught the curved edge with them, teeth bared and eyes bright.

"Should've tried harder to kill me, then," she mouthed off, and with a swift step forward she aimed a kick at his shin that ought to have brought him down. Emma and Anna-Marie were both busy with their own fights, so there would be no back-up, and the Other missed the blow with ease. He twirled it with his hands, the blade little more than a shimmer, and this time she didn't get out of the way quick enough. As he brought the inner curve of it towards her waist she managed to stop it with her swords, teeth gritted hard as she struggled to hold it off, to keep it from cutting her in half as the Other had been instructed to do. He pushed harder, and she watched with horror as the blade inched closer and closer to her cut, the tip of it catching on her side and tearing horizontally when she finally summoned the strength to shove the blade away. A muffled shout left her mouth even as she backed away, feeling blood ooze from the cut. It was an inch or so deep, not near as bad as it could've been, but there was something different about this injury, something that had her blinking rapidly every so often. The Other grinned, pointing the scythe at her as he stood far back enough away that she wouldn't be able to get a close shot in.

"There's a poison on this blade that stops your nerves from working properly. Even now it travels in your bloodstream. A mortal like you isn't going to last much longer." He lifted the scythe, the blade now on level with her throat, and all she could find the strength to do was stumble away. The world was shifting, spinning, and she hated herself for getting so weak. Felt the reality of the situation hitting her. "But it's not a chance I'm willing to take."

He brought the blade up, over his head, and she saw her chance for a split second before it happened. Her brain was just hardly able to recognize it, this one last weakness, and she felt the knife materialize in her hand before she'd made the conscious decision to summon it into being. The handle left her hand, and the blade stuck hard in the Other's throat with a sickening glug of blood and bone and muscle being torn open. His footsteps faltered, and she stumbled backwards just in time for the scythe to drop from his hands, the blade planted in the ground where she'd been just moments before. She heard her name being shouted, felt the blood pooling in her shoe, and watched the Other collapse to the ground-dead-before she pitched backwards.

Her head pounded as light snuck its way past the closure of her eyelids, and her dry mouth opened to let out a soft, noncommittal grunt of displeasure. There was no pain, which worried her the most, because the numbness, along with not being able to open her eyes, was never a good sign. Her fingers felt out where she was-lying down, on something soft, hopefully sheets, with a cool breeze on her face-and they reached up to try and pry her eyes open. If they could not find the strength enough to do it, then she would do it for them.

"Don't do that, just relax my love," Loki's voice came from her left, or was it her right? She turned her head to the side, trying to find him, to feel him out but could only make out his voice.

She hoped this wasn't death. That he hadn't died as well. They couldn't have lost, could they? She felt hands encase her own, felt the chill of his skin against her own heated flesh and took comfort in it. Slowly, torturously slowly to be frank, she managed to inch her eyes open. Her lips cracked as she smiled up at Loki, trying to form words but finding she didn't have any to spare. As she became more aware of the world the pain began to set in. Her bones ached, but more than that there was a sharp, stabbing sensation in her side that caused her to groan, eyes screwing up once more with tears as it got worse.

"Loki you have to keep her focused on you, you can't let her slip away." A voice was saying from a different side of her, she couldn't tell where at the moment. The pain was getting worse, the fire of it spreading through her very being as Loki's hands cupped the sides of her face and forced her eyes open in surprise.

"Nat-Natasha stay with me. Stay with me please," he begged. She hardly ever heard him beg, and it wasn't a good sound to come from his lips. There were tears in the corners of her eyes that disfigured his face, elongated the sorrow in his eyes. She could smell fear dripping from his every pore and no that wasn't right, she shouldn't have been able to do that, but there it was anyway.

"Hurts-make it stop hurting, please." Her throat was raw, from what she had no idea, but it felt like blood coated her esophagus. This was worse than what she'd dealt with at the Red Room's hands, worse than the agony of having lost her child. It was taking her apart piece by piece, inch by inch, filleting her alive with a fire-coated knife, and she just wanted it to stop. She was turned on her side before much else could be said, and there were curse words muttered behind her as she continued to stare at Loki, to beg him to end it. The edges of her vision were going white and every time she blinked to try and clear her sight tears tracked down the side of her face.

"Just a little bit longer, my love. Just a little longer."

"No, make it stop," she could hardly speak any longer, the words fragmenting on her lips as she coughed and her whole body trembled with the movement. The white was growing, getting worse, as the fire spread to her lungs and she couldn't catch her breath-she couldn't-she couldn't!

"Her heart is going too fast, we have to stop this."

"I'm almost done-almost there," a female voice was saying softly.

"End this now, you're killing her!" Thor boomed, and the noise made her start, her eyes widening and focusing in on Loki's terrified gaze, taking in the blood that'd dried and caked on the left side of his face, the gaunt terror that played over his face.

"I'm almost done-there!"

Natasha's scream echoed as she swore she felt a dagger, or a blade of some sort, stuck into her back, and Loki's hands scrambled to take hers, holding them tight as she tensed, body locked as the pain flared white-hot behind her eyes. She didn't know how long she stayed like that, only that she couldn't find it in her to breathe, and her lungs were screaming for fresh air. She was suffocating, truly dying. A hand hit her high up on her back, knocking air into her body as she gasped, and just like that the bubble was popped. She sucked in air with a ferocity and a need she'd never known before, her body relaxing as soon as fresh air filled her body and her head swam with it. She blinked slowly, focusing and watching how Loki's face broke into a grateful, amazed smile

"Thank the Norns," he muttered as he leaned in to kiss her forehead, lingering so that she felt his own tears of relief trickle down his face and hit her skin.

A/N: Okay, I promise this isn't the very end! There's more coming, we'll find out what happened with Thanos and Katrik and Oded and everyone in the next chapter(s)-depending on their length. But the rest of it just wouldn't have fit in this same chapter. Thank you so much for reading!