_Forty-nine beakers. Forty-nine freaking beakers._

Natasha paced the lab, head shaking incessantly.

_This isn't right. This isn't. Right._

Spinning to face the storage shelves, she counted again.

_... forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-fucking-nine._

She balled her fists and growled in frustration.

_There should be fifty here. Where's the other one?_

Suddenly, a terrible thought. What about the others? Was there anything else missing?

Natasha ran down the storage rows, feverishly murmuring as she took a frantic inventory of the flasks, vials, and petri dishes glinting on the shining chrome shelves.

“... ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred.”

Exactly one hundred vials.

Exactly fifty petri dishes.

Exactly twenty-five Erlenmeyer flasks.

But only forty-nine beakers.

“_Where the fuck is that beaker?_” she roared into the cold, empty space of the laboratory. Her own voice returned to her, crazed and angry.

Rushing to the wall, Natasha flipped on every light switch, flooding the lab with fluorescent lighting, making a blinding mirror out of all the metal and tile surfaces that coated the walls, floor, and furniture.

Squinting against the brightness, Natasha turned over every unbreakable thing she could find. If she had to tear the place down to find that goddamn beaker, she would.