Now that I survived Sherlock... Oh my God...

2...

Natasha was silent for a while as she thought through things. How was it that she could talk to this creature? It shouldn't be possible and yet… "If we're not really talking, I seriously have a problem."

The cub shrugged as it glanced about their surroundings.

The lack of response made her wonder if the entire thing was a figment of her imagination. Maybe she had made up the entire conversation and now she was questioning herself. Suddenly, the drink of water didn't seem like such a good idea. She could be hallucinating. She took a breath. "Am I really hearing you?"

The cub looked up at the assassin. Apparently. I wonder though if this means I no longer have thoughts to myself.

"Unless your mind is running blank, I can't hear anything other than what you say."

I suppose that's for the best. The cub yawned and scanned the growing shadows.

Natasha felt a bit of ease having another set of eyes. In fact, if its eyes remained on what she couldn't see, that diminished the chances of the Corrector appearing. He only seemed to appear behind her when she wasn't looking.

Her shoulders relaxed as her thoughts shifted toward the cub. Natasha wasn't surprised it was more alert. The assassin had learned a long time ago when you get someone's mind off the bad things, they perk up a bit.

Speaking of, her thoughts were quite dark. While it was hard to separate what was real from nightmare, she wondered if Clint was really dead. If he wasn't, then he should have already rescued her. Unless, he didn't know where she was. The image of him dying and becoming one of those creatures ran through her mind and she shuddered. After a breath, she settled on believing he was alive until further notice. This place had fucked with her enough.

A chill ran up her spine as the sun disappeared from the sky allowing darkness to cover them. She could feel the predator in the distance. While he remained invisible, the shadows seemed to grow in an attempt to keep him hidden. When she left that place, she'd been hoping that she'd also left him behind. She'd hoped he died when the place was destroyed. However, that sadly wasn't the case.

He was alive.

He was here.

He was following her.

She had to talk to the cub, had to keep moving forward away from him. There had to be a way off the island. If she just kept moving, she'd come across it. With only the sound of grass crunching under her feet, her nerves were on edge. She blinked and focused.

The cub had spoken of a past. Someone had loved and cared for her. If she had someone, she must have had a name at some point. "Cub?"

It startled. Assassin?

She almost smiled to think the cub had nodded off. If they were in a less tense situation, she would have. "Do you have a name?"

Its ears dropped back. I did. Once.

"Once?"

That was in the past.

"What was it?"

The cub didn't respond. Its breathing changed slightly as if tears would soon flood its sad, green eyes. After several moments, the cub looked about the shadows and stiffened. Natasha was certain it was steeling itself against any emotions from the past.

It blinked once before replying. It doesn't matter.

"But you had a name."

The facility named me Subject A-113.

Natasha had been down that road before. The rocky, uncertain path where you didn't even have a name because of what people changed you into. You lost your entire way of being and became nothing more than an object. And when your name was removed, so was your reality.

However, she could have sworn the cub said something earlier about watching movies with a friend. That meant it couldn't have been in hell forever. "You've never been cared about before?"

Once. But they're gone. And it doesn't matter who I was or who cared for me. I am... whatever I am now. That's all that matters.

The realization dawned in on her. The cub had lost someone. She'd been through it before; she started to feel the effects with Clint's existence being a mystery. She wasn't sure if the person that cared for the cub was dead, but to the cub, they might as well be. "What happened to the person who cared for you? Did they die?"

Why ask that?

"You're mourning."

You lie.

"No, you are. It's like being without Clint. I had nightmares. In those dreams the zombies killed him. After that place, I don't know if he's dead or not."

How does this relate to me?

"You were in that place, too. You don't know if the person who cared for you is alive or dead. That place had a way of fucking with your mind. Hours become days there, and days, weeks which lead into months. I don't know how long I was in there; I don't know what nightmares were real or forged. If I'm not sure what's real, how do you know what truly happened? Maybe they're alive."

The cub's gaze narrowed and its nose twitched. Whatever emotions were beginning to show was clearly not welcome. No, they are dead. Left to the fishes. You didn't watch the fucking house—

The cub froze, leaving Natasha's brow furrowed. "Watch what house?"

Something's following us.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. "I know…" Natasha whispered after a moment. The cub had finally realized they were being hunted. "It has been."

How do you know?

"He's been following me for a while now." Apparently, some nightmares stalked you anywhere you went.

The cub shuddered.What is it?

She cleared her throat and replied in a whisper, "It's called the 'Corrector' in Russian tales. In American mythos… he's known as Slenderman."

Corrector? I haven't heard that one.

"Have you heard of Slenderman?" Natasha cast a glance back.

The cub's ear twitched. I do not know much.

Natasha hesitated. For the first time she wondered if the cub was working with the man. That couldn't be… The cub was frightened and dying. "He's this faceless being that stalks in the forests at night."

The cub scanned the trees. The one that leaves the notes?

"That's the one. He's been following me for a long time. The bastard caught me, and I ended up in that damn hell hole." Natasha straightened up, feeling slightly relieved the cub didn't seem to know him. Another thought crossed her mind. If the place had named the cub, perhaps it knew more about where they'd been held captive. "Wait, what was that place?"

It was a research facility. They tested on people, creatures, and the like.

"There were more creatures other than zombies, the grey beast, and you?"

The grey beast was called a Necrotaur.She looked up at Natalie.There was a vampire. And obviously your Slenderman. There were shape-shifters. Also, don't forget that person with the mask.

"Anything else I should be alert to?"

The cub scrunched her nose. Me?

"Are you dangerous?"

It shrugged. I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that out.

As the conversation died, the cub placed its head on Natasha's shoulder. She could feel the cub beginning to nod off again. The poor thing was trying it's best, but if they didn't find a way out soon… Natasha knew it was only a matter of time before the cub stopped breathing.

She felt the cub shift again and begin to lick its fur. If the cub wasn't looking behind them…

"Are you still watching behind me?"

The cub shook its head. No?

The assassin shuddered, her voice tense. "You stopped looking?"

What does it matter?

"Oh God…"

The cub was silent for a few moments. Assassin? Does the man have—

"Octopus arms?" She had halted and looked behind. "Yeah, that's him."

At that moment, a ghostly howl sounded in the distance, freezing her bones. Her heart pounded in her chest as one black tentacle slithered toward them. Death was certainly on its way.

In that second, she realized that Stark couldn't have pulled this off. He wouldn't have kept this going. As much of an ass as he was, he'd never try to kill her. Everything that had happened hadn't been orchestrated by him. He hadn't put her in harms way. Apparently the devil had finally caught up with her and was now going to make her pay for past mistakes.

RUN!

The cub's frantic scream startled her and she spun. Perhaps she could escape penance. Sprinting through the forest, her mind swirled before focusing on one thing: the survival of her and the cub.

Dodging trees and bushes, a slight breeze hit her face. She could smell the salt of the ocean in the distance. She had to be close to the edge of the island by now. As she leapt over a fallen tree, the gentle ebb and flow of the waves on a shore greeted her.

"Up ahead!" she gasped between breaths.

She felt the cub turn and look forward.

"There's water!" she exclaimed. If she could just reach it, perhaps they'd be free.

The cub shifted again to gaze behind. The snarl-yelp that escaped its throat startled Natasha, but the tentacle that wrapped around her ankle tripped her. She screamed as she hit the sand. The cub rolled away.

Oh God! Oh God!

She shifted and tried to break its grip on her.

I can't go back there!

A flash of grey burst past to the black tentacle. The cub slashed out and Natasha felt his grip release. As she leapt to her feet, the cub darted past her. She followed it to the shore line and it wasn't long before she led the way. A gasp escaped her lips as her eyes settled on one of the most amazing sights.

"There's a rowboat!" she exclaimed as another howl echoed through the woods. They wouldn't be able to catch her now. Freedom was right around the corner.

Natasha glanced down to the cub. Her eyes widened as she realized it was nowhere to be seen. Turning, she saw the cub sliding toward the tree line with a black tentacle wrapped around its hind leg. It clawed frantically at the sand, hopelessly attempting to gain a grip on something.

Natasha pulled out her gun and held it up. The cub looked at her and its ears perked up.

Please! The cub begged. Please, shoot me.

A frown slid onto her lips and her gaze softened momentarily. It wanted to die? Her head nodded down slightly as desperation seemingly poured from the cubs eyes. Swallowing roughly, she aimed.

Gunfire shattered the silence.