Fifteen.

14.1K 467 424
                                    

NATASHAS POV

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


NATASHAS POV

Tony held the door open for me that led into his and Bruce's lab, his hands outstretched in case I fell. The lab was big, unfinished projects littering the room as blueprints and papers, tools and dirty coffee mugs scattered the tables.

I followed Stark over to one of the microscopes that was sat on the table, a glass slide inserted under it already.

"What's this?" I asked curiously, shooting him a raised eyebrow.

"When we went and evacuated Peter, I found this black organism still on his suit. The thing was jumpy to say the least." Tony shook his head.

Leaning closer I put my eye on the microscope, watching the black organism eat away some other organism they must have put on the glass slide.

"The thing is deadly. It takes over other cells and changes them to be just like it. It swallows them whole and the thing only gets bigger." Stark sighed.

"It's Venom." I replied gravely. "Peter said they injected y/n with it, that it feeds off your fears and your demons."

"Isn't that just lovely." Stark smacked his lips.

"We have the organism, though. Maybe we can run some more tests and find out how to stop it and destroy it." My rigid hands ran down my face tiredly.

"Already done. Loud sounds effect it along with fire and being frozen." Bruce called over to us, walking through another door in the lab.

"There's a chance that if we can un attach itself from the host, we can save y/n."

"How big is that chance?" My voice was quiet and small.

Bruce tilted his head from side to side, calculating the percentage in his mind, "About 25%. The symbiote is strong, and the power is greater. There's a 75% chance that y/n won't survive the un attachment. This thing bonds with you."

"25% is as good as any." Tony clapped his hands together loudly, making Bruce jump.

"Natasha, I think you should start coming to terms with it if y/n doesn't make-"

"Don't!" I snapped, "Just don't." My finger poked his blue polo covered chest as my eyes welled up with tears I didn't want to escape.

"I-"

Shaking my head, I removed my hand from Bruce's chest and turned on my heel out of the door. Quickly I wiped away the tears from my eyes once I felt a small wet drop slide down my cheek.

Opening my bedroom door, I tiredly fell onto my bed, my limbs giving out at the last second. I rolled over onto my side with my back facing the door, grabbing the pillow y/n always used, smelling the drifting scent of her salty ocean breeze still on the fabric. Pulling the plush pillow closer to my body I inwardly curled on myself as I let out a quiet sob. One after another my body wracked with streaks of tears and snot running down my nose. A large lump gathered in my throat, the size of a human hand it seemed.

I tried to suck air back into my lung, a rising pain stabbing at my temples as every hair on my body began to stand up. The walls were closing in, eyes dialing in fear as the wretched bubbling of anxiety pooled in my stomach. My breathing came out in shallow gasps, fingers digging into the plush pillow as I tried to calm myself down.

Breathe in and breathe out.

It wasn't working.

Hissing in pain a sharp ringing in my ears pricked my ear drums. I pulled the pillows over my head as I rocked myself back and forth, digging my fingers into my palms I felt small beads of warm crimson blood drip down my arm. I felt like I was suffocating. Like breathing in was like being stabbed repeatedly by hot knives.

Then it all seemed to stop. I felt numb. My grip on the pillow loosened as one fell onto the floor with a soft thud. The ringing stopped, the lump in my throat gone and left a dryness. My body was heavy as it sunk further into the mattress.

THIRD PERSONS POV

The rusted door handle jigged before the door swung open. Natasha moved gracefully as she grabbed her gun from under her bedside table and pointed it at the incoming intruder.

Bruce's pitiful eyes widened as he shot his arms into the air.

"Woah! It's just me!" Bruce panicked. Natasha kept the gun pointed at the scientist for a split second longer, putting the pistol down and back under the bedside table.

"Thanks for uh.. not shooting me." Bruce jokes to ease the thick tension he could feel lingering in the room.

"What did you need?" Natasha replied dryly.

"I uh, I came to apologize." Bruce scratched the back of his neck, moving further into the redheads room and sitting next to her on her bed.

"Apology accepted. You can leave now."

"Look, Natasha... I shouldn't have said what I said in the lab. I just wanted you to be prepared if something happened. We're all here for you and-"

Bruce's words died on his tongue and faded into the background noise that was Natashas mind. The wretched feeling came bubbling back in her stomach, this time it was worse. Much worse. The anxiety cane hurling up her dry throat and last the lump that was forming again. Her skin was on fire, every hair standing up. She felt everything. The walls were caving in once more, a deep laugh echoing around her in a taunting manner.

Her fingers felt like they were clawing at her throat, desperately trying to open up the airway and suck oxygen into her lungs. Any moment she felt like she could pass out. The ends of her vision becoming blue, but on the outside she looked like a statue intently listening to Bruce ramble on.

It was then, and only then, did the ginger break her statue like position as she turned towards the scientist, grabbing his chin with her hand and smashing their lips together.

And only then did the haunting ringing noise and anguish float away, a new wave of pleasure taking its place.

A/n: yikes

Arachnids ; BWWhere stories live. Discover now