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She meets with Fury and Maria as Clint is being debriefed, more worried than sheâs ever been about whatâs going to happen next.
If they fire him, sheâs leaving too.
If they want her to kill him, sheâll kill them all.
If, if, if, all float through her head as her legs carry her to the warehouse. Her bulletproof vest is heavy under her jacket but she doesnât trust they donât have snipers on the roof or in the warehouse.
Maria greets her with a nod and a folder, motioning for Natasha to read it.
Thereâs three scenarios.
The first is detainment.
The second is that they go off grid.
The third is the avengers.
She stops in her tracks. This is kind.
Looking up she sees Fury, itâs the first time sheâs seen him since Coulsonâs funeral.
âRomanoff,â he greets.
âIs this you?â She asks, waving the paperwork.
He nods, âthereâs concerns for his health; weâll go with whatever you recommend.â
Her stomach drops, sheâs never been in charge of someone elseâs well-being before, never been trusted enough to do so.
âHe canât be alone; donât detain him,â she requests, aware that leaves two options.
âSo?â Hill prompts, âdo you want us to set up a safe house? Or the tower?â
Fury stands.
âRogers and Banner have already agreed to go, and Tony lives there.â
She feels thereâs a right answer here, and itâs not going off just the two of them.
âFine,â she concedes, âfine. Weâll go to the tower.â
They both nod, like they hadnât set up that exact scenario to make her agree.
We can leave if things get bad, she tells herself, making a plan in her head of escape. The world is in chaos, no one would know.
.
Theyâre all put in therapy. Itâs an occupational hazard that she accepts. Doesnât mean she likes it.
Itâs a therapist that Tony sets up and the woman is lovely. It doesnât discount that she makes her talk about things she doesnât want to and is called out again and again.
Therapy days happen fortnightly.
She takes Clint; makes him go and waits outside; takes him back to their rooms, then waits for her appointment.
He doesnât seem to realise the toll it takes on her too, mostly because sheâs designed it that way. When she gets back, heâs always asleep and sheâs always shitty that he is.
Thereâs no âhow was it?â or âare you ok?â Like she does for him, just a zoned out Clint recovering in the way that his brain can handle.
Sometimes sheâs fine. Sometimes sheâs not. But thereâs no one to check.
And whilst itâs true that she shouldnât need anyone, there are some days she just wants someone to take care of her.
Natasha knows it goes Steve, Tony, Clint, Bruce and then her on therapy days; and whilst sheâd like to be a fly on the wall, she also knows that likely itâs not something she wants to hear.
Theyâre all deeply damaged people; and her history is nothing.
The therapist had asked, who she talks to, when sheâs feeling low, or angry or happy; and in a tower full of people it should have been an easy answer, but the only person she wants to talk to, canât handle her shit as heâs got too much of his own going on.
The dynamics of their relationship has shifted and sheâs not quite sure how to protect him as well herself.
.
Bruce comes into the kitchen whilst sheâs eating, and it feels intrusive. Sheâs deliberate in the times that she eats and she thought sheâd be alone at midnight.
Like clockwork, Clintâs nightmare had woken her.
Luckily, it hadnât woken him as sheâd whispered, calmed him down and then left; knowing heâd sleep.
Natasha stands as Bruce enters and empties the rest of her food into the bin.
She wants to leave.
Bruce makes small talk and she responds by rote, smiling and ignoring most of what he says; until he asks what the therapist gave her for homework.
Theyâd spoken of course about how much sheâd been neglecting herself to take care of Clint, and all the metaphors had come out; that you canât pour from an empty cup, put your mask on yourself before others, and Natasha had cognitively known what she meant.
The therapist had encouraged her to trust the others to help.
She canât.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Itâs still hard just being here, with everyone and trusting them not to turn on her and Clint.
Eating at midnight, alone, was all she had in taking care of herself, when she knows Clint is asleep and safe.
âSmall acts of trust,â she admits.
Glancing at Bruce, she sees him nod, contemplative.
Natasha feels her stomach ache, as it reminds her all sheâs eaten is half a bowl of cereal.
Small acts of trust, sheâd said out loud.
She pulls some cheese out of the fridge and opens it in front of him, eating it slowly, forcing herself to swallow.
Maybe itâs something she can try.
.
Clint starts moving around the tower more confidently, finding hiding spaces and keeping his distance; even from her.
She knows why.
His dreams have turned violent.
Where once they were met with wide eyes and panic attacks, the anger that he feels with no way to express it filters into his subconsciousness.
Guilt makes him push her away.
Natasha doesnât know what to do.
Apologise? Go against his wishes? Push her way in?
She wants him to know she doesnât care.
This body can take it.
She just wants him to be okay.
Natasha knows sheâs not good at this. Clint is the one that has the reassuring words, heâs the one that knows what to say when sheâs breaking.
She sucks at it and sheâs failing him.
.
Thereâs a day that she canât sit still.
She needs to be moving and the displaced energy crawls under her skin. Her mind doesnât stop thinking about the past, and the only way it stops is when she starts mapping and roaming around the tower.
Hours later she stops in the kitchen, and sits with her head in her hands, making her heart rate drop and dampening down the feelings of panic that come sporadically.
She needs to eat something.
Drink something.
But the effort to move is too much.
Natasha hears movement and expects Bruce but when she lifts her head, itâs Tony.
She still hasnât quite forgiven him for his blunt comments but if she let all the words people had said to her in her life affect her, she likely wouldnât be here.
Heâd only said that she didnât belong, and that was old news.
Displaced, abandoned, defected. Why should it matter if he thought it too? If all of them thought so?
Standing, she nods to him.
âI can go?â He tells her.
Anger bubbles under her skin.
âItâs your house,â she replies. âIâm only here because of the perks of living with a billionaire.â
She watches the guilt cross his face, and wonders at the emotion.
âSit.â
The command comes across as so forceful that she does as he says.
Wordlessly, he starts making her food, rice, just like sheâs been doing for Clint.
She wants to stop him, tell him sheâs not hungry, but the way he seems to want to help, makes her feel like crying.
âDo you know you eat rice when youâre sad?â Tony asks handing over a bowl of plain rice and butter.
Natasha stares at him.
She feels naked in front of him, and reassesses how observant Tony really is. It should be obvious.
Swallowing, she retaliates with a snarl.
âYou eat cheese burgers when youâre stressed.â
Angrily, she mashes the butter into the rice, but as she does so, she realises itâs the nicest thing that anyone has done for her in a very long time.
âSafe foods,â she mumbles.
She wants to apologise for being mean; and as Tony sits across from her, with a questioning gaze, she continues.
âWe eat foods we know that are safe and manageable when weâre sad or stressed. For you itâs cheese burgers, for me, now, itâs rice.â
Natasha doesnât feel well. Itâs the crash she knew was coming. She needs to leave.
âIâm sorry, Iâm not hungry,â she apologizes.
Tony nods as she puts the rice in the fridge.
âYou know this is your home too?â
His words hit her like a truck. Sheâs never had a home, and if this is what it feels like, sheâs not sure what to think.
âThanks Tony,â she says, sincerely.
All the fatigue, grief and sadness that sheâs been holding at bay, seem to attack her at once and as she walks back to her room, she canât stop the tears that pool in her eyes.
.
The gym is familiar, easy, and helps to build routine. First with the treadmill and then with sparring. Thereâs a levity it brings.
Things arenât so serious when theyâre sparring each other, or racing each other on the treadmill.
Even Steve seems to notice. He asks to spar Clint and Natasha thinks that this is perhaps what the therapist meant; let someone else help.
So she does.
.
Old habits die hard.
The click of the handcuffs bring a clarity sheâs been missing and sleep comes easy for the first time in months.
She doesnât hate it, but thinks she likely should.
Clint would be so disappointed.
.
âCome with me,â she whispers.
She leads him into the rafters helping him up.
âJust like Budapest,â she smiles.
Sheâs left a blanket and food and when he sees it he smiles back; itâs the first one sheâs seen in a long time.
Pleasure curls in her gut as she realises sheâs done something good, something right.
âIâm sorry,â she whispers, as she lays on his lap. âI donât know how to fix this.â
He threads his fingers through her hair and she closes her eyes at the gentle touch.
âIâm sorry,â his gravelly voice responds, âall I seem to do is hurt everyone around me.â
She shakes her head and sits up.
âIs that what you think? Clint, I see you fight every day to get back what you lost, you battle through everything and work hard at being here and I just..â she pauses, âI donât know how to help.â
âNat..â
She shakes her head.
This is not about her. This is not about how sheâs struggling.
But she does need need him to know that sheâs not good at this. Sheâs not good at being someoneâs fall person, she can fight for him and have his back in the literal sense but all of this?
She hasnât got the words.
âIâm just.. Sorry.â
Clint offers her a marshmallow that sheâs left, knowing that itâs one of his favourite foods.
Shaking her head, she lays back down.
âIâm okay, Nat,â he lies. âHonest.â
.
Steve hits her in the gym and Clint comes to her with words of apology, words she doesnât want or need.
She tries to explain it away, but fails again.
They make her food and she just feels worse, sheâs just tired; so tired.
Nightmares come without the handcuffs and she blames Clint for calling her out on shit coping mechanisms, even though, his havenât been good either.
She tells the therapist, almost losing her composure as she tries to explain that she doesnât want their help, that she needs to get through this on her own, and that she just wants Clint to be better, to be over this and get back to work.
To her credit, the therapist nods and offers her the chair to sit down again.
âWhat do you think will happen if you let them in?â the therapist starts, âIf you trust them; just a bit? And that the emotion and sincerity behind their actions are not a trick?â
Natasha knows.
Theyâll leave.
Theyâll betray her.
Theyâll judge her.
Sheâs not worthy, and she can do this on her own.
âNo.â
The thought is clarifying, she can do this on her own.
The rest of the session is just service words, sheâs made her breakthrough.
Sheâs been put in the tower to protect these idiots, itâs a mission. Itâs nothing less than what sheâs done before; just like when she was Natalie.
She can do this on her own.
She doesnât need anyone.
.
Viewing living in the tower as a mission makes things better. It give a clarity and role expectation that for the past couple of months sheâs been living without.
Natasha now knows sheâs playing a role, and because of this, she feels more herself.
She researches engineering, and biomechanics; just to hold her own with the science twins.
She practices fighting styles to try on Steve.
Itâs like she feels more herself, when she isnât herself and she doesnât want to dwell on that.
The only time she sheds the mask is when sheâs in bed, or alone with Clint.
Conversations become easier because she can use them to draw out information, she can focus on others and to her surprise it means she focuses better on herself.
She eats breakfast, often with one of the boys, monitoring how theyâre going and supports they need. She doesnât need to but she writes it up and sends it to Fury.
Clint shakes his head, disapproving and glum when she tells him.
âWhat do you tell him about me?â He asks quietly, betrayal in his voice.
âNothing,â she replies, honestly.
Whilst she tells Fury that Bruce and Tony have become close friends, and Steve is reintegrating nicely, she omits that Clint is also healing in this environment.
And maybe, so is she.
She notices small changes in herself.
She eats and shares meals with Clint, they try cooking together and her laughter is genuine. She notices how much energy she has on these days and sees it in him as well when they spar.
Sheâs almost happy.
.
Active duty for both her and Clint is a tick box check from the therapist and they both are placed on missions, mostly babysitting Steve and Tony.
Theyâre cake walks as they all learn to play nicely with each other, to work as a team and functionally trust one another.
Natasha decides she likes Steveâs authority, the way he thinks through missions, and takes on board suggestions. Captain indeed, she thinks.
It takes her more time to get used to Tony, his impulsivity often making things harder than they need to be, although considering heâs never had to work with anyone before, she thinks heâs trying harder than they know.
She appreciates Tonyâs adaptive nature when missions donât go as planned. She tells this to Clint and he agrees with a quick grin.
âGetting comfortable with a team?â he asks.
His assessment causes her to assess her own priorities.
Living in the tower has made her soft. Her mission here is done.
She asks for a solo mission the next day.
.
Thereâs a peace in coming back to a place where an AI greets you, and thereâs all the comforts sheâs ever known. She kisses Clintâs sleeping form and goes to find an ice pack for her face.
âI know,â Tony greets her in the kitchen.
Natasha feels cornered and too tired to deal with his cryptic messages.
She doesnât reply. There could be so much he knows given his computers and intelligence. The mission, albeit a success, has made her somber.
She had contemplated going back to her apartment, but Clint had convinced her to come back. The message from Steve telling her heâd made Mac and cheese had made her grin and she couldnât think of a reason to be alone.
The realisation that she likes working with this weird group of people, has made her gut curl, especially at the recognised peace at coming ⌠home.
Is this who she is now? She looks to Tonyâs serious face as he touches the table and opens a hologram of her notes, displaying them on the table.
âAlways the double agent, hey? Even here, in your home.â
Heâs not done, as she sees the correspondence sheâd sent to Fury months ago, assessing Steve, Bruce and Tony.
âYour assessment of everyone, of me,â her heart sinks, knowing heâll ask her to leave. She only hopes he gives Clint the choice.
The images disappear.
Natasha says nothing, waiting for him.
âIt was fair,â he concedes.
âI prefer working by myself, and I know you do too.â
The coil loosens.
âDonât do that again,â he asks, âtrust us a little?â
She nods, not sure what to do with his kindness. The therapist would be so proud, because the nod, is not a lie. He hasnât asked her to leave, he hasnât judged her and from what she knows, he hasnât betrayed her either.
The silence holds them, both lost in thoughts.
âSteve hit you again?â he jokes, in reference to her black eye, pointing to the ice pack.
She shakes her head, tries at trust again.
âI misjudged a security guard and he kicked me in the face.â
Tony winces and sits down across from her.
The coil unravels again.
âAt least it didnât bruise much.â
He opens a packet of skittles and offers them to her.
Natasha smiles as she takes one.
âItâs because I have like two pounds of make up on.â
The frown that goes across Tonyâs face is fleeting but she catches it anyway. The concern for her well-being is misplaced but nice.
The only other person whose done that is Clint, and maybe Steve.
âHey Nat?â he holds out the bag again.
âMmm?â She hums, wondering what bombshell heâs going to drop at 2am.
âCan you stop hiding food in the vents?â
A laugh bursts out of her.
âOkay,â she agrees, âblame Clint more though.â
âOh donât worry, heâs the one that gave you up,â he laughs too.
âWe decided on a team dinner when you were back.â
Natasha bites her lip, wondering at the emotion holding her heart.
He seems to mistake it for something else.
âDonât worry, Steveâs going to cook, he said risotto?â
She nods.
âTonight?â
Standing Tony taps the table.
âAre you okay?â the concern genuine.
âNothing some sleep wonât cure,â she replies, taking away the ice pack and placing it back into the freezer.
Turning at the door, she pauses.
âThank you Tony⌠for not judging,â she gulps down what she wants to say, âfor everything,â she finishes.
He nods, seemingly understanding.
âIm glad youâre home,â he says sincerely.
âSee you at dinner, Nat.â
.
(Thanks to everyone whoâs commented/reblogged/liked this series, itâs always appreciated and motivating - slightly out of my comfort zone of writing the others but boy have I missed writing Tony and Nat. Thanks legends <3)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Thought I would re-post this here, because why not? I might start posting more of my work on tumblr too.
Itâs part 2 of my March prompt series but can be read as a stand alone. Relevant links are the at the bottom. Iâll be uploading parts 3 & 4 tonight!
------
âThe central part of Tracy Island is a lush tropical forest, home to a variety of plants and animals unique to the island.â
-------
Summary: âThereâs a reason no one goes into that forest alone.â Alan just hadnât expected what it really was.
Usually Alan would pull Gordon in on his trouble making plans, but not this one. This one he wanted the glory all to himself. Apparently, the forest on the island â which Gordon had always liked to characterise as a jungle â was impenetrable, with crossing from one side to the other impossible. Alan had every plan to film his journey across the great green landscape and prove his brotherâs wrong.
Knowing the oldest three, theyâd probably never even tried to venture in there, just listened to Dadâs every word and warning against it like good sons.
But Alan wanted to know. He wanted to know what was in there. Gordon always described it like the jungle out of The Jungle Book, which John always claimed was due to the blonde knowing of no other jungle to compare it too. Virgil had painted it, but only ever from the outside, never anything else and Scott did nothing but tow the line that it was impassible.
Well, youngest and bravest had every plan to change that, so he had decided. Heâd packed his rucksack with drinks and snacks just in case he was stuck out there for a while, and heâd made sure his camera had enough charge to film the whole journey. Yes, this was going to be good. He couldnât wait to see his familyâs faces when he proved them all wrong.
He prepared himself with a deep breath, before sneaking out of his room, and into the quiet, dimly lit hallway. He didnât switch any lights on so as to lessen his chances of waking anyone and he moved with a much speed and silence as he could. It was hard, because he was so excited to finally be doing this, but he wouldnât be doing it if he got caught, so he continued on course, quiet and determined, though excited.
He made it out of the house easily enough and then quickly dashed off into the lifting cover of night. It would be light enough by the time he made it to the forest, and there was no reason why he shouldnât be able to make it back before darkness fell again. He was hoping to make it back for lunch.
Alan felt apprehension creeping in the closer he come to the green forestry, but he pushed on still. He was determined to be the first to cross that land, to prove to everyone that there was nothing to fear in there, that it was possible to go in and come back out. That was his reason for being here, and he was prepared, he wasnât turning back.
Deep breath in, and off he went-
âWhere are you going?â
Oh no⌠That was Gordon. He sighed as he turned around to see the smiling, smirking form of the brother closest to him in age, just as heâd predicted.
âI thought I didnât wake anyone.â
âYou didnât.â Gordon smiled, wide and bright like usual when he was planning trouble, and for once Alan worried he too was in the impact zone for said mayhem, even though he was usually excluded due to being part of the trouble causing.
âGood.â
âBecause we were already awake.â
And that was Scott. Unless Gordon had suddenly become some kind of expert in ventriloquism, which Alan couldnât rule out of the realm of possibility. But, no, Scott appeared behind the swimmer and Alan felt his heart sink. His escapade was clearly flawed and there was likely little chance of him getting in the forest now.
Great. All that planning for nothing.
And it really was for nothing, because soon John and Virgil appeared to stand at the eldestâs side and Alan knew luck couldnât have been rooting for him.
âDonât tell me you all just happened to be awake?â
That was an odd thing to happen at⌠six in the morning. Well, odd for Virgil and Gordon at least: Scott was military trained, and John was an astronaut, so for them it was perfectly plausible.
But Virgil laughed.
âI woke them.â Gordon explained and Alan felt somewhat betrayed. âI knew you were planning something, and you left me out. Cheek of that.â
âAnd this is to teach me not to?â
âHey, little brother, what can I say? If youâd let me in on the plan⌠This wouldnât have happened.â
Yeah, he felt very betrayed.
âAnyway,â Scott began, arms folded, brows raised, âWhat are you doing heading for the forest?â
âIâm going in.â
This time, they all laughed. All four of them.
âWhat? What is so funny?â
âYouâre not going in there.â
âYes, I am, Scott. Iâm going to prove you all wrong.â
âWhat are you trying to prove wrong?â Virgil inquired, brows frowning incredibly akin to Scottâs.
âThat thereâs no reason why we canât go into this forest.â
âOther than the fact that itâs nearly impossible to navigate?â
âAnd covers most of the island, and is mostly impenetrable?â
âAnd itâs darker in there than it ever is out here, even in daylight?â
âAnd itâs massive.â Gordon finished off, only for three older sets of eyes to turn to him. Alan found that rather comical. âWhat? You three took all the good points.â
John shook his head. Virgil chuckled.
âSo, Alan, knowing all that, youâre still planning to go in?â Scott began, âBecause you know, despite all that, thereâs a reason no one goes into that forest alone.â
âI know, itâs because Dad said- Wait, did you say alone?â
âYeah.â
âAlone, but not, not at all?â
âCorrect.â
âAt least we know he can still hear ok- ow!â
Virgil had whacked Gordonâs chest in response to that.
âBut I thought no one had ever been in there? Itâs not allowed.â
âWith good reason.â John muttered, although Alan could expect that from his second brother.
âTheyâve been in there.â Gordon began, something in his tone sounding remorseful. âI would have loved to have a wonder through.â
âFeel free, but Iâm never going in there again.â John stated and Gordon smiled. Alan had a feeling his trouble making partner knew the story he didnât here.
âMe neither.â Virgil agreed. âThe art wasnât worth it.â
âArt?â He was well and truly confused. âBut you never paint the inside of the forest.â
âI did intend to, but I never really got a look at anything different from the outside. I was too busy trying to find a way out.â
âYouâve been in the forest? Why wasnât I told this sooner? Ok, you have to tell me this story now!â
âOk,â The eldest relented. âYou see, Virgil here thought it would be a great artistic opportunity to see the inside of the forest.â Scott began. âSo, he âwiselyâ ignored Dad and went in there.â
âAnd got lost.â John concluded.
âI prefer to say I misplaced my sense of direction.â
âWhatever you like.â
âSo, John and I â good brothers we are - went in after him, and we were pretty lucky in being able to find him, but-â
âWe also ended up getting lost.â John added, âFor all Scott had promised me heâd be able to get us out with his amazing sense of direction.â
âI did get us out, thank you very much.â
Gordon suddenly started chuckling again, and Alan knew there was more that he was missing. This wasnât a simple lost and found.
âYes, after we ran into half of the unique wildlife out there.â John contributed.
Virgil groaned. âDonât remind me! Iâm still haunted.â
âI looked it up on the internet, I donât think itâs that scary.â Gordon added and Alan really wanted to know what he was still missing. Virgil didnât scare easily either, but his middle brother was cringing and moving away from Gordon as he spoke. âLots of legs, quick moving and slimy.â
âAnd bites.â The astronaut added almost bitterly.
âWhat does?â He was sure his brothers could be talking about any number of things, especially if there was wildlife in that forest heâd never seen before.
âCentipedes.â Gordon answered, clearly still on a mission to tease Virgil.
âBut theyâre tiny.â Heâd seen some which had made into the house. They were always nothing scary, just little fast-moving bugs that usually got themselves stuck in the bath before they met their end.
âNo, eight inches long-â
âThe size of a golf tee, give or take.â Virgil helped with his visual imagining of the now big issue which dwelt inside the scary forest.
â-And with a dangerous bite.â Scott explained.
âPoisonous bite.â John corrected, with venom of his own.
âWoah, really?â
âYou should expect there to be something poisonous on this island, little bro.â
âI know, Gordon, but a centipede?â
âYeah. Definitely a centipede.â Virgil agreed with shivers going down his spine anew.
âBut â hang, I donât get⌠how thatâs relevant to you getting lost?â Alan asked, it being his turn to frown now, and Scott sighed as John and Virgilâs eyes turned to him. Gordon was smiling like a clown.
âOk, so John and I rushed after Virgil, forgetting that neither of us had shoes on. I had socks on, but John had bare feet. After weâd managed to find Virgil, we were trying to find our way back and found the centipedeâs instead.â
âRightâŚâ
âIt has to be this way.â
âHow do you know that, Scott?â
âI donât, John, but Iâm pretty sure we came this way⌠See look, thereâs a tree.â
âItâs a forest, Scott!â
âThere are trees everywhere!â
âVirgil, I donât need you stating the obvious too.â
âYouâre the one stating the obvious, not me. I just pointed out what you clearly didnât see!â
âI did too see the trees, hence why I said it.â
âNot at all helpfully.â
âWell it wasnât helpful of you to just run off here.â
âI didnât think it was going to be thisâŚâ
âWhat? Everything Dad said it was?â
âI just thought I could use the scenery.â
âGreat, did you hear that John? Weâve got ourselves lost for the sake of scenery.â
âI really couldnât care why. Letâs just get out of here.â
âHey! You try remembering anything round here-â
âStop arguing.â
â-it all looks exactly the same, thereâs nothing to remember!â
âWell maybe you should have thought more about rushing in after me!â
âMaybe you should have thought more about not rushing in-â
âOw!â
âJohn? What now?â
âIâve got bare feet-â
âShould have put some shoes on then.â
â-And I think something just bit me.â
âProbably because youâve got no shoes on.â
âVirgilâŚâ
âHere, hold onto me before you fall over.â
âCan we jus- eww! What are all those things!â
âTheyâve got loads of legs.â
âTheyâre centipedes.â
âTheyâre disgusting!â
âI think thatâs what bit me.â
âThey donât bite⌠do they?â
âWhy are you looking at me, Virgil? Johnâs the genius.â
âGenius or not, I donât know. I donât have x-ray vision to see through my feet!â
âGreat⌠just great.â
âWell, you obviously made it back.â Alan summarised once his elder brothers finished recounting their encounter, Gordon having enjoyed the whole thing despite the youngest being able to tell heâd heard it all before. Honestly, having lived long enough on the island, he was used to the bugs, though he wasnât very keen on the thought of centipedes anymore either. And the things had been known to make their way towards the house⌠little tiny ones, but still. âYou found a way out?â
âEventually.â Virgil groaned. âIt took ages.â
âYeah, and I even had to carry John.â
âConsidering you were the one who pulled me out the house without leaving me any time to get my shoes, Scott, I donât think that piggyback was unfair.â
âMe neither.â
âHey, we were only in there because of you, so you donât get a vote!â
âBesides, I couldnât have walked back anyway, considering the fact Iâd been poisoned.â
âYeah ok, but Brains said it wouldnât have been fatal.â
âWe didnât know that!â John and Virgil chorused, and even Gordon wasnât smiling now.
âNor did Dad. He all but blew up when you returned, and I had a front row seat! Heck, you all say Iâm loud; I say thatâs where I got it from.â
âHang on- So, let me get this straight.â His brothers turned their focus to him. âVirgil went into the forest even though weâre not meant to. You two went in after him and got just as lost. John got bitten by a poisonous-â
âVenomous.â Scott interjected.
â-Centipede and somehow you found your way home. Did I miss anything?â
âWell, you skimmed it down a lot.â Virgil corrected.
âBut I donât think you missed anything.â Gordon interjected.
âRight. So thatâs why I shouldnât go into the forest alone?â
âYeah, and why you shouldnât go in there at all, little brother.â
âYou do not want to get bitten by a centipede.â
âNo?â Gordon asked, clearly trying to find some humour, but John refused to oblige the swimmer.
âNo. I donât care that itâs not fatal, it still hurts like level four on Schmidt index*.â
âWell, I think we should head home before anyone else wakes up.â Scott decided, making his opinion and it was met with three more sets of agreement before those blue eyes turned on him. âAlan? You coming with, or are you still going through the forest?â
He gave the forest one last glance. He still could if he wanted to, but his opinion on braving the forest had changed drastically since he left the house.
âMaybe I wonât bother.â
âGood call.â
âOh no, donât you all go getting the wrong idea. My decision has nothing to do with any of you.â Alan assured. He wasnât certain that his brothers believed him from the skeptical glances, but he was definitely going to run with his story. âI just wanted to be the first. Thereâs no point bothering if Iâve already been beaten to it.â
Pushing past, Alan tried to further his argument by being the first to walk back up the hill. There really was no value in It for him if he wasnât the first, and his brotherâs cautionary tale had made it seem⌠well, it confirmed everything heâd always been warned of when it came to the forest.
They all headed back up to the house, with no one else any the wiser that the forest had ever been on the exploration list, but at the same time, Alan had a feeling he was going to be sharing Virgilâs bug based shivers for quite some time now. Whilst he would have believed Gordon to pull such a prank, John wouldnât lie about being bitten by a centipede, which meant the things really were as horrible as he thought they were ugly.
No, there was a reason why not one went into that forest alone, and it was the same reason that no one should go in at all.
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*Schmidt string pain index â list the pain sale of different large order insect bites. It ranges from 1-4, with four being described as âblindingâ levels of pain.
So, when I travelled to the rain forest, I was warned to look out for âthe eight-inch centipedesâ with a sting âworse than a hive of beesâ. So for anyone unsure, 8 inches is the equivalent size of a golf tee, or a little bit more than a brand new, sharpened pencil with an eraser on top. Basically, the locals donât like them, theyâve just become used to them.
If you do want to look it up (which I wouldnât personally having already done so), the species of centipede to likely inhabit Tracy Island would be the Amazonian giant Centipede (Scolopendra gigantea) which grow to 8 inches minimum, with a maximum length of 12 inches (so the size equivalent of a full ruler). It is reported to have a venom which isnât fatal, however one four-year-old child has reportedly died from it. Its classification has remained venomous, not poisonous however, and it is thought anyone in good health and not of an extremely young or old age would be able to survive. Many people have been reported to fall ill after being bitten by a giant centipede. With recent discoveries of the first amphibious centipede, and reports of two more poisonous Scolopendrra Subspinipes (Thailand and Mexico), it is likely that the main genus of the Scolopendra family will soon be reclassified.
Before anyone asks why Iâve said itâs nonfatal in this story, that is because I have referred to it as matches its current classification, although if that is ever redefined (which I think it should be), I will edit this to match.
So, personally, I think I am very lucky to not have encountered one whilst I was in the rainforest! I felt very much like Virgil as I walked around, constantly on the lookout with goosebumps going up my arms. I had some excellent guides though, and attribute my survival and learning to them. If I sent this their way, they would probably laugh at what Iâm using all that knowledge they gave me for!