{29} you've got my kid

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NATASHA HAD SEEN PETER FIGHT OFF A DOZEN MEN, effortlessly avoiding the bullets that they aimed at him. But he had been different- desperate. Hardened by his hatred for the men who were now storming in, tearing down the life he'd managed to build again.

He knelt to the floor, combatting himself internally to keep his terror disguised by indifference; Nat was painfully reminded of the fear that kept him up at night and on high alert at the slightest sound.

Gritting her teeth, Natasha yanked back with her right forearm, snapping the man's neck she had captured like a tree branch before dropping him to the floor; she moved to step forwards when someone slammed her into a wall. The Hydra soldier's weight on her back kept her trapped between him and the wall- with a lack of better options, she moved her hand slightly and began stretching her fingers for the penknife on the waist band; she'd seen it on all her victims.

It hadn't been helpful to them, but it would be helpful to her.

"Move." She whispered, inaudible to the soldier behind her, but she knew Peter could hear her with his enhanced hearing- his eyes flickered to hers instinctively. "Peter move. You can dodge the bullets and I can cover you, move." Nat hissed under her breath, anxiety slipping into her voice without her consent, betraying the fear warring with her adrenaline.

He barely blinked, expression almost apologetic.

Peter took in a deep breath and rose to his feet, clearly in pain but he didn't call out, instead he announced words that made the assassin's heart lurch.

"Shoot me." The soldier looked almost surprised.

"Trust me, I'd love to." He muttered, pressing the gun harder against Peter's head. It made Natasha's fingers twitch and finally grab hold of the hilt of the knife. But she froze at Peter's reply.

"So, do it." He turned to face the gun and away from Natasha's gaze.

For once, every emotion was on display, and it made his breath hitch to see genuine care and worry directed at him. His brain flitted over the past few months, of the life she had helped him build and of the home they had built together. Peter knew he'd never be able to thank her, and he'd run out of time to at least try; he just hoped she knew how truly sorry he was.

"There are easier mutates to capture and sell. I'm more trouble than I'm worth- so shoot me."

"Peter-" A guard tried to knock Natasha out, but she dodged and slammed their head against the wall with everything in her. She used the small knife and jammed it into their neck in one fluid motion. Letting out a small breath, the assassin whirled around and moved to march towards Peter when yet another Hydra soldier stumbled from the kitchen and quickly apprehended her, effectively blocking her off- she cursed under her breath.

The man scowled down at Peter before leaning in close, ignoring the redhead behind him and her attempts to approach him. "They have better plans for you." Peter frowned in confusion, heart hammering away in his chest when he felt the knife in his shoulder twist and the soldier kick hard at his injured leg- Peter cried out as he dropped back to the ground, his eyes watering.

He leaned back, dazed from the pain, and felt something clasp around his neck.

Alarm bells rang in his head and Peter's hands flew to the contraption, the familiar cold metal grated on his skin as he tugged and scratched feverishly. He looked like a wounded animal, trapped and scared; emotions flickered continuously across his face as his chest heaved.

"Chopper, we need removal. Target has been acquired. I'm coming up."

"N- no." Peter struggled out, his mind forcing out its haze of confusion as tears pricked his eyes as he wrestled with the collar, "No. I'd rather die." He growled, scooting back from the man.

It's a Spider Thing. {Peter Parker and Natasha Romanoff}Where stories live. Discover now