Stiles is changing. His humour fading, the light in his eyes turning darker with everyday, he was becoming more and more like the dark spirit they just defeated. His friends notice it. His dad notices it. Stiles knew this.
But what he didn't know...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I will only talk to him."
The woman with dark hair muttered as she sat in a dark interrogation room, her wrists handcuffed to the cold metal table in front of her and the sharp iron bars from her seat cut into her back like knives.
"You're not talking to him, you're talking to me." Natasha slammed her hands against the table, causing the dark haired woman to look up at the agent's bandaged forehead, studying the injury intently.
"He got you good, did he?" She muttered, a sad smile on her face as she tore her eyes away when Natasha scowled in her direction. "You care for him don't you." She inquired, looking up at the agent. "You care for Stiles."
Natasha's expression remained cold and calculating. The only indicator that the woman's words had struck a nerve was the dangerous gleam that flickered over the redhead's eyes.
"Let's stay on topic shall we." Natasha spat, as she sat across from her, staring profoundly into the woman's dark irises as she attempted to gain information. "The illness. The deaths. You caused all that didn't you." She watched with a smirk as the woman's face fell, her expression forlorn.
"I will only talk to Stiles." The woman repeated quietly, her voice filled with defeat. Natasha saw her opening and pounced.
"You're enhanced, aren't you?" The agent guessed, sensing she was onto something. "You have powers, something you might not be able to control." Natasha smirked as she watched the woman shift uncomfortably in her seat. "It's consuming you isn't it? This power inside you-"
"I will only talk to Stiles." The woman spoke through gritted teeth as she refused to speak any longer to the agent.
Natasha nodded, leaving the room with a triumphant smirk as she had a lot of the information she needed. However she didn't like what she had to do next, and she knew Coulson wouldn't either.
———————
"No absolutely not. No way, no."
Phil walked down the corridor in a huff as Natasha was hot on his trail. The redhead was determined to get him to sign onto her idea, despite how uncomfortable it made her.
"He needs to speak with her. She's like him." Natasha called out. Watching with a triumphant smirk on her face, as Phil paused and turned to face her with his head down.
"No she's not." Phil muttered halfheartedly, not believing his own words. Natasha walked over with a soft smile, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
