-?Caught in her Web?- (black widow)

Your half-blind author reporting in!

So... turns out a little sibling teamwork and the pity card go a long way. I recruited my sister, gave her the classic tragic stare, and voilà — access granted.

Who knew mild emotional manipulation could be so effective?

Anyway, I'm back and ready to cause fictional chaos once more. Let the writing continue!

Cleo's POV

The night air bit at my skin, but I barely noticed. I'd sat on the same half-rotted tree stump for at least an hour now, arms wrapped around my knees, Yelenas  jacket pulled up like it could protect me from everything.

It couldn't.

Natasha went in a while ago saying she give me space.

Everyone inside was probably talking about me, worried about me, or — more likely — tiptoeing around the Cleo Problem like I might combust if they said the wrong thing. Which... yeah. Fair. I was half ready to combust myself. I hadn't really processed any of this. Not Dreykov. Not the jet. Not the cuffs. Not the fact that the one man who had caused so much pain in my life was gone, and I hadn't even been allowed to help.

I kicked a rock so hard it bounced off a tree and back toward me.

Unfinished business, they said.

But how do you finish business with a ghost?

I sighed, dragging my fingers through the dirt at my feet, and that's when I heard it — a rustling off to my right, soft and steady. I froze, every nerve in my body on high alert. Training kicking in. Could be a scout. Could be a drone. Could be—

A bunny.

A tiny, round ball of fur with ears too big for its head and a twitchy little nose.

We stared at each other.

"Okay," I whispered, slowly standing. "Not what I was expecting. But sure. You wanna be my emotional support bunny? Because I'm ready for that level of emotional codependence."

It sniffed the air.

I took a cautious step forward.

"You know, I could've used a bunny back at the Red Room. Therapy animal. Probably would've bitten Dreykov, ten out of ten."

Another step. The bunny twitched but didn't bolt.

I knelt in the dirt, inching closer. My hands were steady, calculated. I'd caught bigger things. Deadlier things. This was child's play — except it wasn't. Because for some weird reason, this moment mattered. Stupid bunny, in the middle of the forest, and it felt like the universe was handing me something... small. Soft. Alive.

Something I could protect for once.

I gently scooped it up by the scruff. It kicked a little — tiny bunny kicks — but then just... settled. Like it knew.

"Ha!" I grinned, holding it up to eye level. "You're mine now. It's not kidnapping if you don't resist, right?"

The bunny blinked.

"I'm naming you Pancake. And if you die on me, I will cry, so let's just avoid that emotional breakdown, yeah?"

I tucked him under the jacket, letting him nestle against my stomach, and he twitched a little but didn't try to escape.

I could feel his heartbeat.

Tiny. Fast. Alive.

Mine.

Slipping back into the safehouse was a work of art. I moved with the kind of stealth that would make Natasha proud. Melina and Yelena were probably off debriefing or plotting. Whatever adult spy ladies did when they weren't stabbing someone.