C93 Jealousy

C93 Jealousy

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Peter stood over the quivering form of General Dreykov, the room heavy with tension and the sharp scent of blood.

"Now, what to do with you?” Peter muttered ominously, his eyes glinting a dangerous yellow as he drew his lightsaber.

The black blade hummed ominously, casting an eerie glow over his face. Peter's grip tightened on the hilt, and he raised the weapon high, ready to end Dreykov's life with a single stroke.

But before he could bring the blade down, two voices filled the air. "Wait, stop!" Melina and Natasha shouted simultaneously.

Peter halted mid-swing, turning his head to look at them. Dreykov, who had been bracing for the end, let out a shaky breath, a smirk forming on his frightened face. "Ah, I knew you wouldn't let him kill me," he sneered, mistaking their intervention for loyalty.

Peter's eyes narrowed as he looked back at the girls. "Why?" he asked, his voice cold and curious.

Natasha's glare was fierce as she spat her words at Dreykov. "Because I want to kill him myself," she declared. "I deserve to be the one to end his fat, insignificant life..."

Dreykov's smirk faltered, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Wait, what?!"

Before he could process Natasha's words, Melina shakily stood up, her eyes blazing with a maternal fury. "No, I should be the one to do it," she insisted, her voice cold and determined. "I’ll make it excruciating and slow..."

Peter shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. With a casual wave of his hand, he broke the metal restraints binding Natasha's hands and ankles. She sat up slowly, her wrists and ankles still dripping blood, but her eyes were fixed on Dreykov with a burning intensity.

Peter deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it back to his waist. "You know," he said, looking at Natasha and Melina with a mischievous glint in his eye, "you could do it together. Just think of it as a mother-daughter bonding experience."

Dreykov, now pale and visibly shaking, tried to back away, but his mangled leg made it impossible for him to get away. "No... no, this isn't right," he stammered, his voice breaking with fear.

Peter stepped back, giving Natasha and Melina space to do as they pleased. “Good luck...” He said, giving Dreykov a sympathetic look. After all, he was planning to end the general's life with a single swing of his blade, but it seemed like the mother and daughter pair had other ideas...

Natasha gritted her teeth as she limped off the chair, her wounded leg barely supporting her weight. Blood oozed from the wounds on her wounds, but she paid no attention to the pain. Her focus was entirely on Dreykov, who now lay defenseless on the floor.

Melina, wincing with each step, limped alongside her daughter. Both women moved with a grim determination, their eyes never leaving their target.

Dreykov's eyes widened in terror as the two women approached him. "No, wait!" he begged, his voice shaking. "We can talk about this—"

"There's nothing to talk about," Natasha hissed, her voice was icy, devoid of any mercy. "You lost any chance at a painless death the moment you brought my sister into this..." She reached down, grabbing a fallen soldier's gun, her fingers steady despite the pain coursing through her body.

Melina followed suit, picking up a knife from the ground. "You deserve everything coming to you, Dreykov," she said quietly, her voice filled with a cold fury. "You shouldn’t have touched my family...."

Natasha stepped closer, the gun in her hand shaking slightly. She aimed it at Dreykov's uninjured leg and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, and Dreykov screamed in agony as the bullet tore through flesh and bone.

Melina, watching her daughter with a mix of pride and sorrow, knelt beside Dreykov. She placed the knife against his other leg, which Peter mangled only moments earlier, pressing down just enough to draw blood. "You thought you could control us, use us," she whispered. "But we're we’re not your pawn anymore."

She dragged the knife slowly down his leg, each movement deliberate and precise, taking immense pleasure in his pain.

“Aaaagggghh!!!” Dreykov's screams grew louder, echoing off the cold metal walls. Blood pooled around him, his body writhing in agony.

Yelena flinched at the sudden screams, her urge to open her eyes and take a peak growing by the second. “...”

Natasha, her face set in a mask of grim satisfaction, shot Dreykov again, this time in the hand, severing two of his fingers all at once. "That was for Yelena," she said, her voice steady as she fired again. "You sick f*ck!"

Natasha sighed, realizing that there was little use in trying to protect Yelena from the reality of their situation. At least not anymore...

"Alright," Natasha said, her voice resigned. "If you think you can handle it..."

Yelena nodded, her face set with determination. "I can handle it," she said firmly.

Through the Force, Peter could sense Yelena’s emotions. She appeared resolved and confident, but deep down, he could feel her fear. She hid it well, though; he had to give her that.

"But why is she wearing a Russian space suit?" Melina asked, still shocked by Cosmo, her voice tinged with astonishment.

Cosmo tilted her head, looking mildly offended. "I wear it because I’m from Russia, duh," she replied with a hint of pride in her voice.

Before they could ask more questions, the sound of fighting erupted outside the room. The screams of soldiers, the clash of weapons, and the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber filled the air. And as everyone turned to the noise, they noticed the flashes of red light flickered through the doorway.

Peter turned to Cosmo, his expression serious. "That's probably Revan dealing with the soldiers who came to report to Dreykov. Go assist him."

Cosmo nodded, though she grumbled, "Revan doesn’t need help, though." With that, she trotted out of the room, ready to join the fray.

With the sounds of battle raging outside, Peter glanced around the room, assessing the situation. His eyes landed on Yelena, who was now staring down at her severed finger and the bloody stub where her pinky used to be. A deep sigh escaped him. She was far too young to be enduring such horrors.

Peter walked over to Yelena and gently picked up her severed finger. "Hey," he said softly, his voice carrying a tone of compassion. "Once my ship is docked, I'll reattach this for you. It'll be as good as new, okay? I promise. Just don't lose it, alright? Because if you do, I’ll have to turn you into a cyborg... but that could be cool too...”

Yelena looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of pain and curiosity. She nodded slowly, and Peter handed her the finger. It was a grim sight, but to Natasha and Melina, who were watching from the side, it felt like a very kind gesture given the circumstances.

"Thank you," Yelena whispered, clutching her severed finger tightly.

Peter offered her a reassuring smile. "No problem." He said, “Now let’s make sure you’re alright, okay?”

As Yelena clutched her severed finger, Peter knelt down to check over her injuries, his eyes quickly focusing on the gunshot wound on her leg, which seemed to be the worst of it all. The blood was seeping through her clothes, and he knew he needed to stop the bleeding until they could get her proper medical treatment on his ship.

Taking off his shirt, as he had nothing else to stop the bleeding, Peter revealed his chiseled chest. "This might hurt a little," he said as he tore a strip from his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage.

“!” Yelena's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. Despite the pain, she found herself ogling Peter’s muscles, momentarily distracted from her injury.

Peter worked quickly, gently tying the strip of fabric tightly around her leg to stem the bleeding. "Just hang in there a bit longer, Yelena," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.

“...” She nodded dumbly, barely feeling the pressure as he secured the makeshift bandage, too absorbed in watching him.

Melina, noticing her daughter's reaction, raised an eyebrow and glanced at Natasha. “?”

Natasha, meanwhile, was scowling at her sister, clearly annoyed. “...”

Melina stifled a laugh, amused by the absurdity of the situation—Yelena had no chances with Peter, as she was just a child with a crush, yet Natasha seemed irritated that her little sister was eyeing her man, or at least the man she liked...

Unable to contain her amusement, Melina burst out into laughter. The sound drew everyone's attention, and they all looked at her quizzically. Even Natasha, the object of Melina's laughter, stared at her mother in confusion.

"What’s so funny?" Natasha asked, her scowl deepening.

Melina stifled her laughter, “Oh, nothing...” she said. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she turned to Peter, “Hey, maybe you should check on Natasha next, before she gets jealous—“ She abruptly stopped, clearing her throat under her eldest daughter's glare. “Ahem, I mean before she bleeds out...”

Peter turned to look at Natasha, his eyes widening slightly as he realized she was jealous. "Right, sorry about that," he smirked, winking in her direction. “The doctor will be with you in a moment, Miss Romanoff...”

A/N: 2269 words :)