The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Thirty one

Before I can experience his soft flesh tearing under my fingers, the man is ripped from my reach. Something hauls me backwards in the same instance, struggling to restrain me from carving out the man's pulsating jugular.

I whirl around, irate and ready to slash at my captor.

Steve's shocked blue eyes meet mine, jolting me from my fury just in time for me to sheathe my claws as my hand makes contact with his chest. The hit does nothing, yet I stare at my fingers with a shellshocked disgust.

I could've killed him.

Guilt weighs down my stomach as I glance back up at Steve's concerned gaze, my anger momentarily forgotten. His arms are tight around my waist, hugging me close to his muscular torso. I swallow back a lump in my throat, unable to hold his stare when realisation flickers in his eyes at just how close I was to seriously injuring him.

Shaking myself, I turn slowly back around, the fire reigniting in my veins.

Steve's grip strengthens still.

"What the hell is he doing here?" I spit, tone laced with venom.

"Onyx." The man breathes, something close to admiration shining in his brown eyes.

A growl rumbles in my throat, my hands clamping around Steve's wrists. I want to tear from his arms and hide in them at the same time.

"Woah, whoah, whoah!" Tony shouts, putting his body in between me and my target. He shoves the man even further across the room, effectively widening the gap between us so that I can be stopped if I lunge again. "What's with the Cujo impression?"

My murderous gaze stays on the man for a few moments longer before sliding onto Tony. I stare silently at his chocolate eyes, my heart pumping both bloodlust and fear through my veins. I notice everyone else has moved too, Clint putting himself in front of the scientist and Nat edging towards me as I remain trapped in Steve's grip.

I swallow, breathing heavily. All eyes are on me, making my skin crawl even more. As well as the three I entered with, five other people sit around the long metal table. Two men with dark skin observe silently from their seats, a couple of meters away from a muscular guy dressed in a black uniform. Bucky sits, arms crossed at the far end of the table, blue gaze fixed on me. And then of course, there's the man who ruined my life.

Clenching my jaw tightly, I finally look back into Tony's curious gaze. He scans my conflicted features before stepping forward, hands up in a mock surrender.

"How do you know that man?" He asks quietly, pointing a finger behind him but keeping his attention solely on me.

I count my constrained breaths, trying to force my body to stop shaking. The blood rushes louder and louder in my ears as my gaze slides past Tony and onto the man standing stoically in the corner.

"He did this to me."

I spit the words out quickly, aware of the many eyes studying me.

The arms around my waist tighten further.

Tony studies my pained expression for a moment, then turns around to take in the man behind him.

"Is that true?"

The scientist scan the room for a minute, taking in the mass of glowering faces before focusing his cruel brown gaze on me. Crossing his arms, he lifts his chin up, but not in defiance - in pride.

"Yes. Onyx was one of my patients."

Nausea bubbles in my stomach at his very voice, the satisfaction in his words making my lip curl and my hands tighten around Steve's wrists. His use of the word 'patient' sets fire to my veins, feeding the blazing rage that threatens to spill out again.