Natasha doesn't dream much, but when she does, they have range, and they often follow the same pattern. She hates the ones where she has no control most of all. They startle her awake in a cold sweat, leave her unsettled for hours. This one, though, is not new, and not so bad. She's in the dark - dark room, shadows that move and consume, and it's far too hot, the air sluggish through her lungs. If she panics, she will dream of suffocating on the heat. She doesn't.

It's easy to miss The Outsider, at first, just another shadow among many. When he speaks, though, she snaps her head around to face him, eyes sharp and suspicious. "Why are you here?" The question isn't really asked of him, but said to herself, because it's her dream and so it's her thoughts that have put him here.