It's a Spider Thing. {Peter Parker and Natasha Romanoff}

{37} no one bothered me this much when i was dead

PETER HAD THOUGHT that burning from the inside out had been torturous, but the burning in his throat was even worse. He felt as though a thousand needles were being plunged into it repeatedly.

An intense pain ricocheted off his ribs and around his torso. Peter's body curled into itself in a poor attempt to keep out the pain; he grimaced and feebly tried to suck in a breath in hopes that it would even remotely relive the ache in his chest- he choked. Ice-cold water spewed out onto the concrete floor of the cell while Peter slumped back against the wall, trying to support himself while his body shook on its own accord, trying to rid itself of the water that had built in his lungs.

Tears rolled down his cheeks uncontrollably as he gurgled before letting out a violent string of coughs and sinking further into the ground from sheer exhaustion.

Water dribbled down his chin as he managed to draw in a few strangled breaths.

"Regular fish out of water, eh?" Helen teased from her place on the other side of the glass wall.

The woman had been observing Peter in silence for the past hour after a scientist and a few Hydra soldiers had injected him with something- Peter wasn't he wanted to know what with the way water rapidly accumulated in his airwaves and his body forced it out again.

Choosing to remain silent, Peter focussed on trying to conserve some slither of body heat.

He twitched from the cold; he couldn't thermoregulate, and Helen knew that too. Her eyes glinted in the fluorescent lighting. If the teen had had the energy, he would have glared back in defiance- but Peter could only take so much and even that small act would have taken his last effort.

While Helen continued to study him, Peter's ears pricked at the sound of footsteps.

He pinpointed them to the corridor outside of his cell- were they coming back? No, no, no- he froze on instinct, triggering his body into another round of pain as more water spilled from his lips, soaking the floor he was crumpled on, unable to move. He gasped hoarsely when he turned back to watch Helen with wary eyes and a closed expression as his only defence.

Two bodies were being carried behind her; he gulped at the sight, tensing.

"What-" he spat some water out and hunched over himself, fighting for control over his own body, "- power?" he gritted out after a moment. He panted heavily.

Finally, Helen cast her eyes to look at the bodies being carried away with an indifferent expression; she looked almost bored by the sight. "What power killed them?" She echoed his question with a slight hum as if she was thinking over the answer. The woman turned back to him and Peter felt as though she could see into his very soul; he shivered, unable to tell if it was fear or from the cold.

"Sweet, little, naïve Peter Parker." She sighed, feigning sympathy while crouching down to his level to peer at him through the glass like he was an animal in a zoo exhibit. "It was yours."

Peter felt colder as her words washed over him.

"One had an aneurism- sensory overload- blood seeping from their eyes and ears." Peter felt something rise in his stomach, except it wasn't water- he bit back the urge to throw up and turned his face away. "The other?" Helen taunted, watching as Peter attempted to block out the description by pressing his trembling hands to his ears. He didn't want hear anymore, didn't want to listen to how his powers took away lives. "They couldn't thermoregulate and died from hypothermia."

Peter shook his head, water running down his chin as he heaved, head between his legs. Helen continued to talk. "You're a killer Peter Parker."

He winced at the word but didn't object. Instead, his eyes squeezed shut to help him block the woman out who simply carried on, relentless. "Even without doing anything, your very existence; your powers, killed them, Peter." Her tone softened on his name and he risked opening his eyes.

"Let us fix you. Make you better. All you have to do is stop fighting us."

Peter barely blinked in response as he stared at the ground. The sound of Helen's heels echoing was the only sign Peter had of her finally leaving him alone again.

-

No words were exchanged between the Barton brothers as they stood side by side, guarding the main gate with guns in their hands and their fingers on the triggers.

The Hydra base was teeming with soldiers. The constant sound of marching footsteps and shouting was beginning to grate on Clint's nerves, so he switched off his hearing aids under the supplied helmet and welcomed the silence, but that did nothing to ease his need to simply move. He hated standing still, being able to do nothing but watch men clad in the same uniform as themselves flit around- Barney was forcing him to remain calm and not push his luck by requesting to be stationed inside. They would be moved there in a few weeks anyway. Besides, it was already a risky operation with Barney being a known face, (he'd refused to send Clint into "enemy territory" and tagged along, complaining the entire way) and the archer refused to jeopardize the mission in case Peter was there.

Clint would also be reluctant to admit that he did not want his brother to be shot at by some Hydra goon- if anyone were going to have the honour of shooting Barney Barton then it would be Clint.

A set of soldiers passed, and Clint scowled further.

He muttered under his breath, "I can't wait to burn this place to the ground." It was only loud enough for Barney to hear who snorted in response and spared a single glance at his brother for a moment before straightening up again.

"Considering it's made of stone; I don't think it will be very effective." He mused, adjusting his grip on the gun as a car drove into the base.

Clint shrugged half-heartedly, having read his lips for the inevitable reply.

"Trying will make me feel better."

"About what?" Barney let out a long-suffering sigh; he knew why.

He was painfully aware since Clint had yet to shut up about Peter Parker, the teenager that he proclaimed at every opportunity to hate yet he didn't stop talking about. Barney now knew far too many trivial facts about the teen- how he liked his hot chocolate, he was allergic to peppermint, the kid's fascination with the Star Wars franchise, his Lego sculptures that he displayed on shelves- Barney could have written a book on Peter Parker's likes and dislikes from Clint's anecdotes alone.

Though Barney wasn't willing to voice that fact and risk an arrow in the arm.

"Letting Peter get taken to this god-awful place." Clint said, voice low and filled with regret.

Barney groaned, "You know, no one bothered me this much when I was dead."

"I can kill you if you want." Clint offered, half joking.

He remembered the time Barney had faked his death a few years ago; Clint had almost shot him with an arrow when he turned up at the farmhouse looking like he'd just escaped from an explosion by the skin of his teeth and sheer dumb luck; he had, but that wasn't the point. 

A/N

Okay I just want to confirm that Peter's body is rejecting the mutant genes and his bad reaction like spewing up water is his body saying get tf out. Cool? Cool. :)

Also The Barton brothers are peak sibling.

Anywho! Let me know of any spelling mistakes xoxo.