Do I Wanna Know? || Natasha & Duncan.
The poke of the needle felt like nothing compared to the train wreck of pain he felt everywhere else in his body. Almost instantly he felt himself relax. The pain was still there, but he could feel much less of it. Having to blink away some lightheadedness, Duncan found eye contact with Nat again and started trying to come up with a plan. That didn’t last long.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed after she began unloading bullets. Impressively, it didn’t take too many of them before they were in the clear for at least two seconds. He heard her instruction and stood there, unable to identify if it was the meds or the fact that he was hanging with Mrs. Bond that dazed him more. Her second try got to him.
The fighter turned and headed down the first hallway he saw, unknowing if it accessed the basement. His jogging turned into running and his running turned into sprinting towards the end of it where a red Exit sign dangled from the ceiling. He bolted through the door and, unable to bank worth a damn, toppled down the first half flight of stairs until the wall stopped him.
“Aagh! Son of a bitch…” Duncan kept going down, not reading the signs displaying floor levels until he couldn’t go down any further. Basement. As frantic as this man could be, he scanned the wall for a fuse box. It was a lot darker down here and the deeper he went, the more he had to rely on feeling the walls to guide him. The cool metal edge of something brushed against the tip of his finger and he felt his heart skip a beat. Literally. He really needed a hospital.
“Nat!” he yelled once flipping the main switch. The air conditioning stopped. The lights went out. Everything was dark now. He only hoped that along with impressive accuracy she had some sort of night vision too.
His ability to follow orders was a small relief in the grand scheme of things, and with Duncan back on his feet - for the most part- and in control of his faculties, it allowed Natasha to concentrate on the matter at hand. Getting them the hell out of here.
As the immediate area was plunged into darkness, the assassin gave in to her other senses. Whilst her eyes fought to adjust to the sudden lack of light, she could hear the advances of their next wave of attack.The sound of hesitation as heavy footsteps shuffled across the floor and carried through the open space of the warehouse afforded Natasha more than enough time to calculate her next move.
From memory alone, she envisioned the pallets scattered across the empty room, stacked one on top of the other. Using them to block the doorways would be a dirty move, but given the limited supplies at her disposal, and the time constraints she found herself working under. It was all Natasha had to ensure that both of them got out of this shitstorm, alive.
When and only when she was assured the entrance to the room was blocked, Natasha began the steady descent down the numerous flights of stairs, in a bid to locate the basement. It was the steady hum of the buildings boiler system that guided her, the sound of pipes groaning and clunking a calling card luring Natasha in the right direction. Her foot hit the flat of the floor beneath the last step; whilst her hand remained braced against the worn railing.
🕷 "Duncan..." His name fell from her lips in a low hiss, and until she was sure just where he stood, she wasn't going to move. But above all else, she couldn't help but hope he was still conscious.