You weren’t supposed to be on this mission. At least, that’s what John kept saying.

But Val had other plans — she always did. “They're a valuable asset,” she’d told him with that polished smile. “And besides, Walker, they can handle theirself. I’d worry more about you.”

Now, crouched behind a half-demolished wall with smoke and gunfire echoing through the night, John wasn’t so sure she was wrong.

You weren’t like the others. The Thunderbolts were a mess of broken soldiers and reformed killers, but you— You were something else entirely.

Something alive.

He’d seen glimpses of it during training: the way the black veins would ripple just beneath your skin when you got angry, how your eyes turned that eerie, almost liquid color when you lost control. Whatever was inside you — the symbiote — didn’t just share space. It thrived.

Now, as the enemy forces closed in, John’s radio crackled with static, and your voice came through — calm, low, and just a little too steady.

“Walker. Move.”

Before he could respond, a dark shape erupted from the smoke — you. The symbiote flaring across your body in slick, writhing tendrils. You tore through a line of soldiers like they were nothing, movements graceful, terrifyingly fluid.

When it was over, John just stood there, breathing hard, shield half-raised. You turned toward him, chest rising and falling. Your voice came out layered — yours and something… other.

“You’re staring, Walker."

“Hard not to,” he said hoarsely.

The symbiote slithered back beneath your skin, revealing your face again — tired, human, beautiful.

“You should probably keep your distance.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, stepping closer anyway. “Probably.”

Something in your expression shifted. The thing inside you stirred, like it recognized him — like it liked him. The air between you buzzed.

“You’re dangerous,” John said quietly.

You smiled — slow, sharp, and entirely yours. “And you’re just figuring that out now?”

He didn’t say it aloud, but in that moment, he knew — whatever this thing was between you, it was going to end in fire. And he didn’t care.