Fatal Desires | 𝘕. 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧

twenty.

THE FIGHT PICKED UP QUICKLY. Isabella knew she was a little out of her depth here, but what choice did she have? Clint ran at her full speed, his eyes filled with just a hint of regret for what he was about to do. Clint was good with a bow and arrow, but when it came to hand to hand- he wasn't the best. Isabella quickly gained the upper hand of the fight when she used her elbow to ram Clint in the face, causing him to stumble backward. She used the momentum to kick his bow out of his hand. Ig clattered to the ground next to them and Isabella could tell Clint knew he was losing.

"Do you need a safe word?" Isabella said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Clint scoffed in response, but his tone wasn't negative. "Depends, do you?" He asked her, just before he went low- using his leg from the ground to sweep hers from under her. Isabella quickly jumped to her feet, frustrated. She went in hard- throwing her hardest punches until one made it's mark- Clint's but. He doubled over, and Isabella pushed him down. She stood over him, and kicked his bow farther across the way. "We'll laugh about this one day." She said, but Clint just groaned.

Across the way, Isabella watched Natasha get launched into the air- making contact with the side of a shipping container before the ground. "Nat!" She called, sprinting toward her. Isabella felt her knees skid the ground as she landed beside Natasha, who was smiling. "Are you okay?" She asked the red head, a small smile now on her lips. "It's nice to know you care, blonde." Natasha teased, pulling herself up. Isabella got up too. "I'm surprised you didn't already know that."

The two stood there, in the middle of heavy fire between Avengers- staring into each other's heavy eyes. Isabella didn't quite understand why she couldn't move her gaze from the black widow's, but she sure as hell didn't want to. "I have to tell you something." Isabella breathed out. She didn't really know what she was going to say exactly, or why she chose this exact moment- but there was something about the way Natasha's green eyes searched her blue that she craved. Something about the way her smile made her heart beat way faster than it should, something about her.

Neither one of them could get any other words out before they were drawn back into the fight. When they turned around, small guy was huge. He was holding Rhodey in his hand, keeping him
from flying away. His now giant feet thudded on the ground as he moved, and underneath him- Isabella caught a glimpse of the rest of their side running for the jet. "Nat! The jet, they're going for it!" She exclaimed, and both of them ran toward the jet. They picked up speed quickly, but by the time they got there- it was too late. They had already loaded themselves into it, and were just setting off the ground. Isabella kicked the metal on the walls around them in frustration, grabbing her hair in her hands. "Damnit!" She said. "I said I'd help you find him, not catch him. There's a difference." The sound of Natasha's voice caught her attention. When she looked, Black Panther was pulling himself up from the ground. Natasha had most likely hit him with her widow's cuff. 

"You comin' to the hospital?" Natasha asked Isabella with an unreadable expression on her face. Isabella shuffled her feet grudgingly on the green grass outside of the SHIELD Triskelion, failing to meet Natasha's eyes. "You know how I feel about hospitals." She said, trying to avoid the subject as best she could. She felt bad for not going to see Rhodey while he 's in such critical condition, but he would understand why she couldn't go. Why she couldn't step foot inside another hospital- not ever. The last time she was in one, well- all it did was remind her of her sister. Truth was, after her sister had died, Isabella had gone to a hospital to visit a friend. She freaked out after being there for a few seconds. The blonde started to see visions of her sister, hallucinate, sweat, her head had been pounding- her vision was blurry.

The doctor had told her she had a panic attack, which made sense given the amount of trauma and grief she'd experienced over the years. She had told Natasha that story a while ago, but she hadn't felt the need to dwell on the subject too much. Natasha nodded, and her eyes turned sad. "Well, I'll uh, be back in about an hour. See you then?" Isabella nodded, and Natasha left. Isabella walked herself back inside, quickly heading for her bedroom. No one talked to her as she walked up to her room. Once Isabella was safely behind the walls of her room, she headed to the bathroom. 

The shower water filled the whole room with steam, fogging up the mirrors across from the shower. Isabella ran her hands through her blonde hair, washing out the filth from it's layers. After a while of standing in the hot water, her back began to numb from the constant pressure. Her fingers started to prune, which she took as her sign that she'd been wasting water for too long. Wrapping a grey towel around her body, Isabella stepped onto the cold of the bathroom floor. By now, the mirrors had unfogged a little- leaving a small circle in the center of the mirror. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Isabella caught a glimpse of the face staring back at her. Only, it wasn't her own.

The same blonde hair, the same blue eyes, but kinder. The same pale skin, but bloodied. She would have a recognized that face anywhere. "Lilly" She whispered, her voice timid. The girl staring back at her was her sister, but it wasn't real- no matter how real it felt. Lilly had red dripping down her throat, the wound still fresh. Her eyes were filled with fear, and she whispered something that Isabella couldn't quite make out. Shit. Isabella thought, it's happening again. She's having a panic attack. Isabella shook her head furiously, trying to dismember the image in the mirror. It worked, but the image was replaced with the constant sound of her sister's begging and pleading screams in her ears. 

She leant her back onto the cold wall behind her, curling up her legs by her bare chest. Her head buried in her legs, the sound of her sister begging for her help pounding in her head. "No, No! Please! I'm sorry.." Isabella yelled at the voice in her head, trying not to give in to the pain- but she felt herself slowly sliding under. Isabella wanted to scream for someone to help her, anyone- but nothing came from her mouth. The blonde's breathing was jagged and harsh, like the sputtering of a train engine. Natasha must have known something was up, because she busted into Isabella's bathroom like it was an active crime scene. "Oh my god." She muttered to herself, standing in the doorway- not sure how to proceed. 

Isabella continued to whisper incoherent things, small words and some phrases- repeated one after the other. Natasha crept towards her carefully, trying not to freak her out even more. The red head sat in front of her, letting her hand gently rest on the blonde's bare knee. "Bells?" She asked quietly, but Isabella didn't respond. She wasn't in her right mind, but she was n her kind enough to know that she didn't want Natasha to see her like this. She didn't want anyone to. "Bella, please, let me help you." She tried again, getting closer. Isabella knew that Natasha wanted to help her, but she couldn't see how she could. No one could help her.

"Please." Natasha pleaded weakly, trying to break through to her desperately. "I can't do this." Isabella said, her voice faint and hoarse. "Yes you can. I promise." Natasha responded automatically, bringing Isabella into her arms and holding her as close as humanly possible. Isabella could feel the warmth of Natasha's body heat radiating onto her cold, damp one. It soothed her. Something about Natasha made Isabella question everything about herself, every action she'd ever committed, every thought she'd ever had. Natasha held Isabella closer by the second, rubbing her shoulders and hair- comforting her. 

And after a while, the screams faded. The pounding went next. Soon enough, Isabella found herself falling asleep on the bathroom floor in Natasha Romanoff's arms- completely oblivious to how far the both of them had fallen for each other. 

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒..