My dear, my darling one - CorralineSage (2024)

Chapter 1: Crybaby

Chapter Text

There you were, a tiny baby, probably no more than six months old, staring Natasha straight in the eye with the most blank look she had ever seen on a baby. Truth be told, she was scared of you. She had no clue what to do. She had rescued you on a whim because leaving a baby in an exploding Red Room air-station was not on her bucket list and she was your only hope. Natasha wasn’t amazing with babies, children sure, but babies were scary. Babies couldn’t be bribed with candy and cartoons. Babies couldn’t speak. They cried and pooped their pants and hopefully, if you were lucky enough, slept. She knew you were most likely already severely traumatized, which was something that she herself had also gone through. She wouldn’t say it out loud but the real reason she had to save you was because you deserved better, just like baby-Natasha had deserved better, had deserved someone to fight for her, and so she decided to be that someone for you. She was there to offer you a second chance at life.

Natasha sat down next to you on the bed of her hideout house, both of you observing the other in silence. She felt awkward around you, and based on the wary looks you shot her way, you felt some semblance of that awkwardness as well. You were an adorable baby, that Natasha couldn’t deny. You had huge eyes, a button nose, silky smooth cheeks and a tiny pout on your lips. You looked like a real rascal, someone who definitely provoked outrage with their behavior. Your face was quite stoic but your eyes told her everything. They were vigilant and intense, never letting her disappear from your view. She saw a lot of fight in you, tiny as you were. She gave you a gentle smile as if testing the waters, but all you did in response was scrunch your nose as if something had just tickled you.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” She questioned with a sly frown, but you just stared up at her. She had spent no more than an hour with you and you were already an enigma to her. You made her feel helpless with a single look.

“Do you have a name? I suppose you do. What did they name you? Yekaterina? Ksenia? Nataly?” She felt herself grow bitter at the thought of the Red Room. She hated that the very thing she had thought was her own might have been given to her by none other than the Red Room. There had been no “mother” who had looked at her and thought “she looks like a Natalia”. She bit her lip, glancing down at you. Maybe it was better that she didn’t know your name.

“What if I gave you a name?” She suggested, laying beside you on the bed, but unlike she had thought you continued to stare at the ceiling. “Hmm, Let’s see. Who do you look like?” Natasha continued to think over different names she knew. She decided to go with Slavic names since she couldn’t tell your country of origin solely based on looks.

“How about Anastasia?” She mumbled but you didn’t move an inch. She was becoming more and more uncomfortable with your robot-like stillness. She needed to figure you out soon or she would lose her mind. “You’re right, it’s too basic for you”, she reasoned, falling back inside her mind.

“Radmila? Maybe Yaraslava?” At that point she actually had to get up and check if you were still breathing. The redhead co*cked her head as she looked down at you but you just stared at her with your widened eyes. First she had thought that you being unresponsive was just shyness but after a while of her trying to get any reaction out of you she began to wonder if you were all there.

“Y/N?” Nothing. Not that she expected you to react. “Nu khvatit uzhe (Oh, stop it already)”, she groaned impatiently, waving her hand in front of your face. “Ty tolko po-russki govorish, ah? (Do you only speak Russian, huh?)” she inquired, her grip on her tone slipping and turning annoyed. She slid her hands under your arms, but pulled away immediately when you let out a horrified wail, scaring both yourself and Natasha. The loud crying invaded her ears and she winced, deciding to pick you up from the mattress after all. You felt unfamiliar. She didn’t know how to hold you, how to soothe you, how to give you what you needed. She only knew what the Red Room would have done which would’ve most likely been something along the lines of ignorance or pain, and she refused to repeat their actions. There was still time to undo what they had installed into you. She settled you into the crook of her elbow clumsily, bouncing both of you rhythmically. She had seen Laura do that with her children and so she gave it a shot.

“You sure do have a healthy pair of lungs on you”, she muttered tiredly, after thirty exhausting minutes of bouncing. You were crying so hard your body was overheated and tense, your voice starting to grow raspy and tired. It was time to try something else. Natasha grabbed her phone off the nightstand, dialing a number she had called one too many times in the past few weeks.

“Hi, Mason”, she sighed, adjusting you in her arms to keep your screams farther away from the microphone.

“I sense you’re about to ask for a favor”, he joked just as you heaved your lungs full of air, screaming out in panic.

“Wow, how did you guess”, she groaned with a monotone voice. “This time it’s a bit of an odd one”, she admitted with a sigh, trying to pat your bottom to calm you down, clamping the phone between her ear and shoulder, hushing you gently.

“This situation I haven’t heard yet”, he chuckled, listening to your heartbroken cries.

“You don’t have a store near you, do you?” She questioned, her voice laced with exhaustion.

“What does the lady need?”

Half an hour later Natasha opened her door to find a lone box on the porch. She struggled to pick it up with you wailing in her arms but she eventually managed to get back inside. She unpacked the box while you screeched and cried beside her on the bed, every now and then almost choking on your ragged breath.

“You won’t stop, will you?” She grumbled, the agonizing screaming starting to get to her and she almost regretted rescuing you. She had her laptop open, her nimble fingers typing in “how to make baby stop crying”. She tried everything from changing your diaper to feeding you but you were having none of it, screaming louder the more she touched you. And then it clicked for her. You were conditioned to expect pain and most times in the Red Room touch equaled pain. Natasha’s heart ached at the thought. She didn’t know exactly what was done to babies in the Red Room and truth be told she never wanted to know what she had gone through as a baby which is why she never bothered finding out. Now she wished she had.

Natasha went out of her way to search information on traumatized babies, her main objective to find a way to make you stop crying. She closed the curtains to get rid of the bright sunlight, she turned off the radio to get rid of additional noise and finally she undressed you from your plain gray onesie revealing a heavy diaper. You had finally wet yourself.

“Shh, shh, baby, you’re safe. Natasha’s just changing your diaper. I’m gonna make you all cozy again”, she crooned softly, the tone falling a little unnaturally off her lips as she unwrapped your diaper, and tugged your legs up to replace the diaper under you as she wiped you clean, her eyes going back and forth between you and the YouTube tutorial where some woman was changing a BabyBorn doll and explaining each step, giving out tips on how to maintain the baby’s skin. You were still sobbing your little lungs inside out and Natasha was starting to panic. Maybe there was something wrong. Maybe you were hurt. Maybe Natasha just wasn’t cut out for this.

“Come on baby, Natty doesn’t know what to do. Help me out a little”, she whined, leaning over you, staring at your contorted face helplessly. The noise you were making made her want to bang her head against the wall and rip off all her hair. The screams echoed inside her mind and she was so irritated she even thought of leaving you alone into the tiny bedroom to cry until you couldn’t anymore, but she wasn’t that cruel. She just had to endure it. But then, when she nearly burst into tears herself, a thought occurred to her and she let out a cry, mocking you just as loud as you were crying. You paused completely, looking up at Natasha with your huge, teary eyes, both of you just staring at each other warily, neither of you daring to move. The redhead was the first one to offer a slight smile and to her utter surprise you didn’t go right back to wailing, although you did start to fuss a little, waving your tiny fists in the air in discontentment.

“Look at your tiny, little hands”, she mumbled softly, her smile widening, the near silence pure heaven to her ears. And then you were suddenly reaching for her. Natasha wasn’t sure if she was seeing correctly, your hand opening and closing, clearly aiming for her loose-knit sweater. You let out a quiet whine, scrunching your brows together as you built your energy back up for proper wails.

“Nu-uh”, she tutted you, praying that you would keep quiet. Unfortunately her prayers weren’t answered and you were once again sobbing loudly. Natasha sighed heavily, feeling tears prick at her own eyes as she tried to rack her brain to come up with a solution. You were clearly not content on the mattress so she lifted you up into her arms again, petting the back of your warm head softly. Your hands clawed at her shirt, legs kicking furiously as you cried against the wool of her sweater, trying to suckle on the fabric in between your sobs.

“Maybe you’re hungry. Let’s try that again, shall we?” She asked, gritting her teeth, trying to keep her voice light and airy. She plucked up the bottle off the nightstand, not caring that it had cooled down by then. She adjusted you in her arms, cradling you to her chest, bringing the bottle to your swollen lips. You did latch onto it for a whole three seconds which was a win but then you were right back to crying. Natasha felt the warm tears cascade down her cheeks as she gave in to the disappointment she was feeling towards herself. She wasn’t enough for you.

The laptop on her bed had turned off and so she opted for her phone instead, once again opening up a new search tab trying to find an answer. You were tugging furiously on her shirt but Natasha had completely given up, ignoring you because she had no more will to make you stop. She scrolled through article after article, the stupid websites sharing the same few tips that she had tried lord knows how many times. She used the back of her wrist to wipe her tears, a particularly powerful yank from you finally drawing her attention back to you, the loose neckline of her sweater allowing the garment to droop slightly off her shoulder. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier? She glanced at the article she was reading, noting the shirtless woman and her naked baby. Of course.

“Oi blyat, ty durak (oh, f*ck, you idiot)”, Natasha whined to herself, tossing the phone to the bed, halting as she realized what she said. “You don’t mind cussing, right? Eh, why would you care?” She waved her hand, scooching to the backboard of her bed, setting you between her legs as she pulled off her sweater and the tank top under it, leaving her in her bra.

“Alright, you brat, come here”, she muttered, lifting you off the bed and bringing you to her chest. You kept on crying but this time Natasha had faith. She held you gently, your face burning up against her collarbone as you whined, rubbing your face into her skin. And finally, finally, your cries began to die down, your arms tucked tightly to your chest as you settled down, huffing as if you had finally gotten what you had been screaming for. Then it was time for yet another challenge for Natasha when you started to mouth her collarbone, your determined lips searching for food. Natasha had been tortured, abused and violated in her lifetime more than the average human, but never had she felt as drained as she was feeling at the moment as she stared silently out the window. It was getting dark outside and she was already saying goodbye to the uninterrupted sleep that she had been longing for. You let out a quiet coo, trying to press your mouth closer to her.

Naturally, she forced herself to get up and go into the tiny kitchen to warm up the old milk formula. She tested it on the back of her hand —something she had seen Laura do often with any kind of food given to babies. It didn’t burn her, barely even felt warm which she deemed good enough. She had you cradled on her right arm, your fist gripping her bra for dear life. She knew what you were after, yet she completely disregarded it for obvious reasons. She simply let you grope and suckle whatever part of her chest you found interesting because it kept you quiet, and quiet was the only thing Natasha desperately needed.

She had never dared to imagine that side of being a woman. She had never allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to hold a child in her arms, to have a little baby need her. She looked at you softly, feeling disappointed in herself once again when she realized that she could never have that life, no matter what. That option had been stolen from her against her will, ripped into shreds without anyone asking for her consent. Maybe she would have wanted a baby of her own. Maybe she could’ve been a mother, someone who loved her child unconditionally and infinitely because she knew what it was like to not receive that love. In a sense it felt unfair to not be able to breastfeed a baby in need but she had to remind herself that you weren’t her own to begin with and she was simply there until you found your forever home, wherever that may be.

The redhead guided the nipple of the bottle to your lips, your hands still more than busy with the lace hem of her bra, yet you opened wide and allowed her to settle the bottle comfortably into your mouth. Just when she thought she was winning, you pulled away, spitting out some of the milk, the white liquid dripping down your neck and chest. Natasha was on the verge of a breakdown. She was not sure if she could take it a second longer. You clearly wanted the real thing when it was right there beside you but what you didn’t know was that only mama could give you what you needed, and Natasha unfortunately wasn’t her. That threw Natasha down another bottomless rabbit hole of how you had spent the few months you had been alive. Did you have a mother, someone who fed you regularly like a normal baby would be fed? Had Natasha herself had a mother? What did they give babies in the Red Room?

It took you hours to finish the single bottle, even though your stomach was rumbling with hunger, your mind fuzzy with need. You had cried twice already simply from hunger but the hard rubber nipple was not the most welcoming thing in your opinion so you kept playing with the redhead’s lingerie, intense eyes focused on the lace. You held off for as long as you could until you had no other option but to give in. The next time Natasha offered the bottle to you, you took it, sucking eagerly to fill your tiny belly with milk.

Natasha could’ve honestly burst into tears at the sight of you feeding from the bottle, her gentle words of praise a little shaky as she whispered them to you. “Thirty-sixth time’s the charm”, she joked, stroking your cheek with the back of her index finger. You kept your eyes wide open, staring intently at your new caregiver, her green eyes soft and beautiful, smile a little tired. You fought until the very end of the bottle to keep your eyes open but slowly they rolled shut without you even noticing and then you were off to dreamland, Natasha sighing heavily, thanking the heavens for allowing you to fall asleep.

“Good girl, you’re such a good little baby, Y/N, aren’t you? Yes, you are”, she hummed quietly, accidentally slipping the name that she had subconsciously chosen for you. “Huh, Y/N? That’s it. At least it’s better than brat or baby”, she mused quietly, walking back into the bedroom. Her next challenge was to find you a place to sleep in. She could’ve built you a makeshift crib but for that she would have had to set you down and quite frankly she was downright terrified of waking you up so she settled down on the bed, making sure she was surrounded by pillows as she lay down on her back with you snuggled between her pillowy breasts. She should have probably put you on the bed but she dozed off in an instant, forgetting everything as the heaviness –both emotional and physical– took over her.

Chapter 2: New acquaintances

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You woke up warm and comfortable if you ignored the slimy diaper you were wearing. It made you want to burst into tears so you let out a displeased whine, moving your hands to grasp Natasha’s neck as you attempted to crawl closer to her face. When she didn’t move, you let out a sob as if to test if you could wake her up. The louder cry had Natasha blinking sleep away from her eyes, her hands immediately finding your fragile body on her chest. You had stayed still as a rock the entire night and slept soundly for hours which came as a shock to the redhead. She groaned quietly, glancing at your curious face.

“Good morning, stinkypants. Someone clearly needs a diaper change”, she mumbled, her voice raspy, heavy with sleep, the warmth of your diaper a bit too obvious. The way she rolled her eyes at you was funny, the corners of your lips tugging up a little, Natasha freezing at the progress she was making with you.

“Was that a smile? Did I see a smile?” She cheered quietly, her index finger tickling your cheek gently. “I’m sure I saw a tiny smile”, she cooed, watching how your lips stretched into an even wider smile. You dropped your mouth to her breast, giving her the same familiar cue of you being hungry.

“Do I really have to take care of you now? I can’t just cook you oats and call it a day?” She groaned, mentally cursing herself for not dropping you off at a fire station or something. She stared up at the ceiling, weighing her options, as she reveled in the silence of the late morning. What should she do? What could she do? She was still in Russia, but Yelena was already gone with the newly freed widows. Alexei was never going to be of any use with a child, that was for sure. Melina wasn’t great either but she would possibly know a bit more about you. Natasha hummed in thought, her hand patting your back absentmindedly as you drooled over your own fist.

One smelly diaper later you were crying in her arms again, refusing to take the bottle, no matter how much it was food. She would most likely have to give you away or you would end up dead. She spent the morning surfing through multiple search tabs, trying to figure out a way to get you to eat. She found lots of information about toys and distractions that could calm down a baby enough to feed, she found out about breastfeeding adopted babies through some sort of tube system and finally hormone induced breastfeeding. They were all great options but Natasha didn’t have months to go through hormonal therapy, she needed a solution now or you would eventually starve. Not to mention that she hated the idea of having to use her body for fueling you. It was strange and uncomfortable, something so far out of her reach that she didn’t even dare to imagine. But there you were, a tiny bundle cuddled into her, still tugging fervently on her bra strap as if she could’ve given you something better than bottled milk formula.

She would have to call Melina. She was running out of options and the highly skilled spy was probably one of the only people in the world to know what was truly going on with you. She dialed a number and waited a few seconds until Melina picked up.

“Hi”, Natasha whispered, feeling ridiculous for the sudden shyness she felt. It was like Melina’s sole presence made her regress by twenty whole years.

“Ah, Natashka, what a nice surprise. You made it out okay, yeah?” Her voice sounded on the other end of the line, the heavy accent making Natasha smile.

“Yeah, I’m alive. Hey, I have a theoretical question”, she started, deciding to go straight into it.

“What is it, milaya (honey)?” She inquired softly, her brows rising up as she heard the telltale sound of a baby crying.

“So, um, what did you do to babies in the Red Room?” The redhead asked a bit tentatively.

“Oi”, she sighed heavily, thinking over her answer. “Uh, what do you need that for?” She asked warily, still trying to think of how to reply to the question because she knew that the answer would affect the way Natasha viewed herself.

“I’ve got one here with me”, she revealed. “And she won’t stop wailing”, Natasha moaned, bringing her finger to your mouth for you to suck on, the slimy gums in your mouth making her grimace. Next she started to look for the lone pacifier that should’ve been in the box.

“Babies are not my speciality”, she mumbled, biting her lip harshly. “But… touch them as little as you can at first.” Natasha didn’t agree with that even though she had noticed your panicked reactions. It went against everything she knew about comforting babies.

“Why? Did you hit them like you used to hit us?” Natasha asked bitterly. Melina wasn’t the one who had ever laid a hand on her or Yelena but Natasha did blame her for it because in her mind she could’ve done something. She could’ve taken the girls away and given them a better life. She could’ve done so much more than just give them a mere glimpse of a normal life.

“No, Natinka, they use mild electric shocks”, Melina corrected her softly as Natasha sighed heavily.

“Um, how do I undo that?” She asked desperately, realizing that any mention of what had been done to you made her nauseous.

“Take them to a professional”, she said bluntly. “It’s going to be a long process and I think it would be better if you gave them up”, she suggested, sounding a little more gentle. That was the exact opposite of what Natasha wanted to do. She couldn’t think of anything more unfair than giving you up into the foster system after having been ripped away from your family.

“Are there any substances injected into the babies? Is there something else I should know? Possible addictions that could cause withdrawal?” She asked coldly, not too fond of what she was hearing.

“How old is the baby?”

“Maybe five or six months”, she hummed, smiling down at you as the pacifier bobbed vigorously in your mouth. You were going to be a large consumer of pacifiers.

“We don’t -didn’t- start testing that early because it can do more damage than good. They do receive a special milk formula that is loaded with vitamins and nutrients, amongst other stuff”, the brunette on the line explained. So that was mildly contradicting.

“Good, thank you. I hope you’re healing well Mel”, Natasha said rather blandly, but she did mean well. “I’ll talk to you later on, bye”, she hung up the phone right after hearing Melina’s goodbye. Natasha’s fake mother made her feel conflicted. She wanted to talk to her, yet everything Melina said drove her off the edge and made her snap back at the brunette. She had gotten to play pretend for a few years and all she had made out of that was mommy issues? Natasha scoffed bitterly. “We are alone in this, aren’t we?” She cooed softly down at your sharp eyes as you simply continued on suckling the pacifier.

Natasha was not going to submit to the difficulties of taking care of you alone. She would return to America and have her other family help her. She couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t live isolated on a field in Russia. You needed a proper life which Natasha was for some reason intent on giving you. The flight on the jet was pure hell for both her and you. She couldn’t make you stop crying again but at least that time she knew that it wasn’t her fault. The first thing back home she went to a doctor and they recommended her the very same things she had googled herself and to her utter disappointment she ended up getting hormonal treatment because the longer you spent time with her, the more Natasha became attached and as reluctant as she was to take care of you she couldn’t let you go, and it seemed that neither could you. Otherwise you were completely healthy and just like Natasha was: genetically in your prime. Mentally you might not have been in the optimal condition, your reactions to certain stimuli were a bit off, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed. You were declared a sensitive baby by the doctor but that wasn’t anything new to Natasha. She was ever so determined to undo the past and ensure a good future for you.

Despite having arrived at the compound over a week ago none of the other residents had seen you. It was more than clear to Natasha that you weren’t ready for that and neither was she. Although she could’ve definitely used another pair of hands with you, but she just wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to explain to everyone who you were and where you had come from. She wasn’t ready to tell them why she had kept you and why you meant so much to her even though she borderline despised you and your crybaby ass. So she kept you to herself, crying with you in her bedroom, trying her best to take care of you.

Natasha hadn’t showered in a week. Her hair was a mess and so was the house. Her apartment was littered with anything and everything to do with babies. You had pooped all the pants you owned, burped all over every single onesie you owned and Natasha hadn’t gotten a moment to herself for long enough to even give a single thought to doing laundry. She herself was wearing a stained shirt, joggers and purple under eye bags that decorated her pale face. You were once again swaddled into the crook of her elbow, guzzling down a bottle after having starved yourself for nearly the entire day.

“Finally some quiet”, Natasha whispered to herself, wiping the tears off your cheeks with her index finger. She was downright baffled at how many tears one stinky baby could produce. “Shh, that’s it. Silence”, she mumbled. “Can you say silence for me?” She prompted. “Actually keep your mouth shut”, she added quickly, chuckling immediately after.

“I’m going crazy. Did you know you’re driving me insane, baby?” She asked you in amusem*nt. “Natty’s definitely not playing with a full deck right now”, she hummed, allowing her fingers to caress your face. She had been doing that every time you agreed to feed to try and desensitize you to her touch. She would brush her fingertips over your short hairs, cheeks, forehead and nose. You didn’t really react to it for that matter but one thing that she had noticed was that petting the slope of your nose made you relax. So once again she brought her finger to your nose and traced the curve of it in a soft, repetitive motion. Your eyes relaxed from their intense stare and soon they fluttered shut. Your body became completely limp from the slight tension you had possessed in your muscles and you eventually fell asleep, mouth still moving around the nipple of the bottle. Natasha shut her own eyes as well, her mind going fuzzy from the peace she was surrounded by. She wanted to sleep so bad her entire body was screaming for it, so it came to her as no surprise when she opened her eyes and the sun was down, the room dim and just as silent as before. She yawned heavily, eyes watering as she glanced down at you on her lap, her arms stinging from having fallen asleep in the stillness of her position. She smiled fondly, reaching for the pacifier on the nightstand with her freehand. She replaced the bottle with it, standing up and walking to the bed. She was going to take any and every chance she got to sleep so she set you down in the middle of the bed, propped a pillow behind you and scooched herself close to you to squish you into place. Natasha fell asleep in seconds, her entire body humming in pleasure at the softness of the bed she lay on.

Once Natasha had cleared up all the confusion for the rest of the team it was time to start introducing other people to you. Natasha was nervous. She was more than nervous because she didn’t know how you would react. The only other person apart from her who you had met was the doctor and you had been wailing the whole time anyway so there wasn’t much room to judge your opinion. She had decided to only invite Clint over at first because he was great with babies and she trusted him the most to see the awful mess that her apartment had become. She was also feeling quite vulnerable in her newfound chaos but she knew Clint wouldn’t judge because he had lived through it with his own children.

There was a knock at the door and your eyes widened in the sense that you were just about to start crying again. Natasha hushed you hastily, walking toward the front door. Your tiny fists gripped her shirt as you snuggled in the crook of her elbow again, mouth busy with a pacifier. Natasha opened the door, placing her index finger on her lips as soon as he came into view to keep him quiet.

“Make sure you talk very softly. She’s a sensitive one”, Natasha warned, clearly a bit on edge from the combination of being sleep deprived and nervous. Clint nodded, his hands signing the word “whisper?” to the redhead. “Not necessary”, she hummed, looking down at you. “We’ll go to the couch and we’ll take it real slow, won’t we?” She cooed to you, a soft smile breaking onto his lips at the new side of his best friend that he was witnessing. He walked to said couch and sat down, watching how Natasha followed absentmindedly in his footsteps.

“How’s it been?” Clint asked, keeping his voice low and comfortable. You seemed like you were listening intently but you didn’t seem too worried which Natasha took as a good sign. She proceeded to sit down on the cushions, a few feet from the archer.

“Oh, it’s been a lot”, she chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “I think she’s cried more than she has done anything else”, she admitted tiredly.

“Have you tried the bouncing technique?” He watched in slight amusem*nt at the way Natasha raised her brows. “Your doctor didn’t show you?”

“I’m not sure”, she mused, biting her bottom lip. “How do you do it?”

“You cross the baby’s arms over their chest and place your own hand over the arms. Then you put your other hand between their legs. Imagine the baby is now stomach to floor”, he explained as he held his own imaginary baby. “So baby is in a diagonal position, and then you just bounce gently”, he said in a wide smile, Natasha’s frown only deepening.

“And that’s supposed to work?” She asked in mild disbelief. “No amount of bouncing is gonna make her stop”, she scoffed.

“Try it next time and you’ll see”, he smirked, Natasha merely rolling her eyes. “I’m telling you”, he chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah”, she hummed, shaking her head in amusem*nt, her eyes following the way you tried to crane your neck to see who Natasha was talking to. “Clint… come a bit closer”, she prompted quietly. He did as told, slowly and carefully. A face came into your view. You stared up at it blankly. It wasn’t Natasha. It didn’t have any red around it, nor was it soft and safe. Your eyes filled with tears, a frown etching its way to your features. “Shh, sweetheart, he’s a friend”, she said in a high cooing voice. “No need to cry. We don’t need to be scared, myshka (little mouse).”

You weren’t too convinced but to both their surprise you stayed quiet, observing Clint from afar. The first visits went quite well and to Natasha’s annoyance the trick that Clint taught her actually did work at least for most of the time. During everyone’s visits she made sure none of the guests came close to you or touched you. She simply allowed you to observe them and get used to the thought of other people around you. Not everyone was vibrating from excitement to meet you but Wanda had proved to be especially curious about you and had visited the apartment more than once just to sit around in your energy. She was the first one to hold you.

“Do you know how to hold a baby?” Natasha asked warily, feeling reluctant about giving you to anyone else.

“Yeah, I do”, she hummed, a dazed smile already on her face, arms reaching for you. Natasha lifted you out of the safety of her arms and placed you into the crook of Wanda’s elbow. You didn’t seem too disturbed. You could still see Natasha but you could clearly detect the change. Wanda smelled different, she felt different.

“Hi there, baby”, she whispered, offering her finger for you to grasp. Your clammy fist wrapped tightly around her digit and you held on to it as tight as you could. You didn’t cry, you just stared up, much like you had done with Natasha in the very beginning.

The redhead was the only one who you smiled at, she was basically the only one allowed to touch you and hold you and she had no other choice but to keep you. Since the day she met you she was thrown into the deep end of motherhood in one giant hurdle and despite her having thought she never wanted to be a mother and that she wasn’t capable of it, she soon realized that she actually enjoyed taking care of you on most days. She loved waking up on those more quiet mornings when you would merely whimper a couple times to wake her. She would bring you over into her bed and cradle you in her safe arms, allowing you to feed from the bottle you had reluctantly started to trust as she spoke to you about whatever was on her mind. After eight more weeks and a green light from the doctor, it was finally time to try nursing. Natasha’s hormonal therapy had been more than effective and her doctor had marveled at the success of it which brought Natasha both pride and comfort. Maybe it really was meant to be. Maybe you were really meant to be. She was stressed. She was so nervous, but at least the disgust had been replaced by curiosity and the desire to care for you. She now knew that she wanted to do it for you, even if it made her slightly uncomfortable.

She made sure her room was quiet and dim with no distractions around as she settled down into the well-cushioned arm chair in the corner of her bedroom. She rarely used it, but the piece of furniture was quite beautiful. The dark velour welcomed her into its safe embrace as she sat down with you in her arms. You let out a coo, tugging on her hair, not really aware of what was going on, not that you really cared. Natasha’s heartbeat increased as she bit her lower lip, looking down at you. She caressed your chubby cheek, smiling widely when you immediately turned your attention to the digit, your hands reaching for her in an attempt to bring the finger into your mouth. She chuckled softly, pulling her hand away.

“Someone’s hungry”, she hummed softly, cupping your chin with her finger. She inhaled deep, pulling her tank top down. “Here we go”, she whispered, the words were followed by a shaky sigh. You seemed a bit confused at first but welcomed Natasha without hesitation. You opened your tiny mouth wide open and latched onto her. The redhead suppressed the hiss she wanted to let out at the slight sting she felt, her breast sensitive from the pumping she had done daily prior to your first nursing. The experience was completely new to her and the tight feeling in her chest from the build up of milk was more than strange. It started to tingle slightly the harder you suckled her and then she felt the warmth of it as the liquid started to pour out. It was a huge both emotional and physical relief that she felt, like the pressure was being released from her chest. She glanced down at you, smirking. You were happy as ever, your lips wrapped tightly around her, your eyes wide and focused like you couldn’t quite believe it.

“You’re mama’s snobby little princess, aren’t you?” She chuckled, feeling her chest lighten at her own words. Mama. Mother. She felt her eyes sting with tears. For the first time ever, she felt like she really was your mother, that she could actually do it. She could take care of you. She was worthy of that title.

“f*ck… oops”, she whispered, wiping her eyes and glancing down at you to check if you noticed her bad language. Naturally you didn’t. “Stupid hormones”, she sighed, not able to stop smiling. She was definitely going to blame the hormones for the fat tears cascading down her cheeks.

Natasha learned to love the connection that formed between you through natural feeding and she found comfort and safety in the way your tiny hands gripped her chest as you drank as much as your stomach could hold. You would smile and giggle at the funny faces she made, life returning to your traumatized demeanor. She prioritized your nursing, viewing it as not only meal time but also relaxation time. She valued the comfort of it and she deemed it extremely important to spend those quiet moments with you, strengthening the bond that had definitely not been there since day one.

It didn’t take long for Natasha to be positively in love with you and although you were a particularly tough nut to crack she wouldn’t have given up a second of it. Even now as she clambered up from her bed to come pick you up in the middle of the night as you bellowed and screamed your lungs out, she was more than proud of herself for making it so far with you. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, leaning over your cradle

“Shh, hey Y/N. Did my baby have a nightmare?” She inquired softly, bringing her hand to the side of your head. You cried loudly in response, your teary eyes like windows to your horrified soul. “Mama knows, angel. I get them too”, she whispered in understanding. “How about we go to mama’s bed and mama tells you a story?” She suggested with the most gentle voice she could muster, although now it came naturally to her. She pulled off her thin sleeping top and picked you up from the cradle, bringing you to her chest right after checking your diaper that to her relief was clean. You whimpered quietly, your delicate body squirming in her arms. You were so warm and soft, and you smelled like sleep, her nose sniffing the top of your head. She swayed you side to side gently as she paced the room for a while, hearing how you slowly stopped screaming.

“There we go, myschka (little mouse). You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. No one”, she assured you, her throat closing at the rawness of her voice. “I won’t let anyone ever hurt you. As long as I’m here you will be safe. You’re always going to be safe”, she mumbled, forcing to keep her tears at bay because she knew how good you were at sensing emotions, especially hers. “You’re safe”, she whispered next to your wispy hair, breathing in the baby scent that was something she had fallen head over heels for in the past few months. Once your crying was over she deemed you calm enough for bed and so she sat down, settling you over her right arm as your lips searched for her blindly. She guided you slightly to the left so you could easily latch onto her and you stopped fussing in an instant.

In the very beginning Natasha had found the idea repulsing. The first time she did it she was incredibly uncomfortable but she knew she needed to try for you, so she did. She was pleasantly surprised by how tender the moments felt, by how much she yearned to spend that extra time with you. And in turn, you seemed to be infinitely grateful for finally having proper food that you had no problem eating and it left you less cranky and a lot more smiley. Your smile was Natasha’s favorite. Sometimes when you were feeling particularly good you would even laugh; a high, joyous giggle.

Natasha opened her mouth to tell you a story just like she had promised, only for her to realize that she had no baby appropriate stories. Her life was filled with pain and misery and every story she had included violence of every sort. The best she could do was come up with her own story.

“Once upon a time… you know what never mind”, Natasha groaned. “Maybe I’ll talk to you about something else. Do you know what fairies are? Of course you don’t”, she chuckled. “Look at you, dumb little baby”, she mused with a huge grin. “I’ll tell you all about fairies whether you care about it or not.” She found it so incredibly easy to talk to you. Maybe that was because you never replied or because she felt so relaxed around you but whatever the reason may have been she truly appreciated it.

“You poor thing were starving”, she mused out loud, watching you struggle to breathe between your feeding. She used her index finger to pull you off her breast for a moment so you could gather your breath before she brought you back in. She felt herself smile at your droopy eyes, as you fought sleep.

“Fairies are these creatures, small, so very small. Even smaller than you”, she whispered, caressing your forehead. “They have gorgeous wings to help them fly through the air and they live in the woods, and in the attic. They’re everywhere. And they have this powder, this magic powder that they sprinkle everywhere. I don’t know what they do with it, mama’s not a fairytale type. Maybe they do it to dirty up our house, who knows?” She mumbled, telling her story rather clumsily but you of course didn’t mind. Her story fell off track as she watched the automatic suckling slow down once you were fully sated and on the verge of sleep again. Natasha didn’t bother pulling you off her, she just admired your little body in her arms, the whole arrangement of being a mother suddenly feeling so right despite the pain and jealousy she felt for it. In a way you were healing her by offering her the chance to give you everything she never got herself which brought Natasha an inner peace like no other.

Chapter 3: Superhero

Chapter Text

Natasha liked to take you out on walks in the compound to get you more used to changes in your surroundings. She also enjoyed seeing other people and made sure you saw them as well to get you more accustomed to the idea of others. Natasha could still clearly picture each of the team members’ faces when she had delivered the news of your arrival. She had done a special appearance in the weekly team debriefing where they had been discussing upcoming changes considering the Avengers. Natasha naturally hadn’t taken part in any of the meetings at the very beginning of your social integration which had brought many of the others on edge from the lack of knowledge. That is why Fury didn’t allow the spy to make excuses and she had to tell the truth, not that she had anything against it. All she had wanted was time and she had gotten two weeks of peace and quiet with you which was enough for her.

Natasha had entered the conference room wearing casual but neat clothes just like everyone else. The only thing that had given away her exhaustion had been the fluffy curls on her shoulders.

“I’m not going to stay for the meeting but I have a quick announcement to make to clear up some confusion”, Natasha had said from her seat at the end of the table. “I know you’ve all been wondering why I’m never to be seen around anymore. And the answer to that is: I have a baby”, she had explained with a tiny smile that she so fervently had tried to hide. There had been a moment of deafening silence before Tony had spoken up.

“Oh-kay”, he had sighed and clapped his hands together once. “Anyone else got any super early April Fools Day pranks?”

Natasha could still remember each of their faces as they just blinked at her like they couldn’t quite understand what she had said so she had had to explain a bit further.

“Y/N was rescued from the Red Room and I decided that it was my job to take care of her”, she had said, all the others still just gawking at her. “Any questions?” All hands had shot up in the air. “No? Perfect. I’ll be in touch with you guys”, Natasha had smirked, not having had the energy for stupid questions, leaving the room right after. “You guys stay safe on your missions!” She had hollered down the hall right before the doors had slid shut.

You watched Natasha chuckle to herself, a slightly confused smile tugging at your lips. She could still remember the moment so vividly that it made her laugh. Tony and his huge brown eyes shining with disbelief, Clint and his frown of confusion, Wanda’s jaw on the floor, Steve’s loading screen -face, Bruce and his impressed little nod, Thor’s fist on the table and a hooray paired with “A Mighty New Avenger!” and finally Sam and his I Know Damn Well -face. She chortled a laugh again. Her idiots.

You didn’t quite recognize any of the team members yet. They were all just a big blur to you which was probably why you were still so panicked around them. Usually you just watched from afar. Mama would often grab your slimy fist and wave it in the air when you saw someone, for whatever reason. It didn’t really make sense to you.

There she went again, pulling your hand away from your itchy gums and waving it to someone ahead of you. She hushed you gently when you let out a displeased whine, squirming a bit.

“Say, hey to my favorite tincan”, Natasha cooed to you as you looked ahead with huge eyes, blinking slightly until a face with brown hair came into your view.

“Natasha”, Tony nodded, his gaze moving to you. “Y/N”, he greeted you rather professionally. “I see you’ve brought Diapers out for a walk”, he noted, offering his hand for you to shake. You blinked, clumsily tightening your fist around his forefinger, starting to tug it to your mouth. “Still no manners, I see”, he hummed.

“Oh, give it a rest. She’s like five hours old”, Natasha groaned, but she didn’t miss the smile that stretched on Tony’s lips. Just like from the very beginning he didn’t quite know how to address a baby and so he resorted to humor. Natasha didn’t mind and neither did you. She understood what it was like.

“Hey, how come I never get to hold her but Wanda does?”, he asked with a soft frown, the redhead giving him a disbelieving look.

“You wanna hold her?” She asked with a co*ck of her head.

“Yeah”, he nodded definitively, stretching his arms out. Natasha gave him a deadpan look.

“She’s not a box of hardware”, she scoffed, watching how he softened his elbows and took a more natural stance. It was much more welcoming.

“I don’t like to be handed things”, he reminded her.

“She’s not a thing”, Natasha berated harshly yet continued anyway. “There you go”, she muttered, bringing you to his chest, his large hands wrapping around you as he stood stiffly with you staring up at him. Natasha glanced past him at Pepper whose heels were clicking against the stone floor as she approached you.

“Hey, Pep. You think we should get one of these?” He asked with a wide grin, gesturing at you, Pepper nearly glaring at him and his behavior.

“Not as long as you have this job of yours”, she muttered bitterly, Tony’s attention focusing back on you. She was not in a good mood.

“She stinks”, he said.

“Oh my god”, Natasha groaned, bringing her hand up to rub her eyes, fingertips meeting to pinch the bridge of her nose. “See, this is why you don’t get to hold her.”

Tony’s arms were much more stiff and less welcoming than Wanda and Natasha’s. The witch had been easy to adjust to because she was very similar to mama, but Tony, Tony was a whole different story. You reached your hand up, your fingers brushing his goatee. It was scratchy. You hated it. You inhaled your lungs full of air and let out a wail.

“No wonders she doesn’t like you”, Natasha mused out loud, pulling you back into her arms.

“I’ll have her know that this is the most expensive goatee you can find from the entire East Coast”, he said in defense, Natasha just rolling her eyes.

“Serves you right”, Pepper scoffed with a good-natured smile, her hand brushing over Natasha’s shoulder affectionately.

“Come on, milaya (honey), let’s leave this sh*t show”, she chuckled, walking away from Tony who was left deep in thought, rubbing his beard, Pepper already pestering him about another work related issue. “He never was good at first impressions”, Natasha mumbled to you, a small smile on her lips. “You’ll get used to him”, she assured you as you sniffled softly, trying to ease the itch in your nose.

As per usual Natasha was right. You would eventually get used to his spiky chin and inappropriate humor but that would not happen overnight. Officially meeting the rest of your family seemed to go a bit better. When you found Wanda and Steve from the living room you didn’t even flinch. Actually it took you a while to even notice them because Natasha was tickling you and it felt so funny that your eyes squished shut when you smiled as wide as you could, flailing your arms

“Oh, look at her”, Wanda squealed quietly, perching slightly up from her seat on the couch. “She’s getting tickles”, she said in excitement, her hand slapping Steve to gain his attention. A smile spread on his face. He liked you but he wasn’t exactly in his element when around babies so he was a little awkward and had even refused to hold you, reasoning that he was scared of hurting you. Wanda didn’t even have to ask if she would get to hold you. She simply got up from the couch and walked to you, making sure she approached slowly and in a way that left you without any surprises.

“Hi, Y/N, little baby. Do you remember Auntie Wanda?” She cooed, waving her hand as you studied her face. You tugged on Natasha’s hair, looking around in confusion, trying to understand where you were and why Wanda was there. Natasha couldn’t help but to smile at the way the witch acted around you.

“It’s Wanwan”, Natasha crooned, smoothing the side of your head a bit. You observed Wanda curiously until you dared to lean a bit closer. Natasha took that as a good sign and brought you even closer so Wanda was able to move you from the redhead’s hip to her own.

“Look, it’s mama”, Wanda whispered softly, pointing at Natasha as she smiled down at you. That made you show them a toothless grin, legs kicking against Wanda in excitement. You felt secure in Wanda’s arms. You didn’t cry or fuss but acted normal for as long as you could see mama somewhere near you.

“How’s it going?” Steve asked Natasha, clearly wanting to know more about you because you were quite a shock to everyone.

“Better everyday”, she replied in all honesty, brushing her fingers over your hair as you craned your neck to see him. “We’re making lots of progress. Even here, right now”, she explained, nodding towards you and Wanda as she sat herself down beside Steve.

“That’s quite the mission you got for yourself”, he joked, nudging her shoulder a bit.

“I never back down, do I?” She challenged, looking up at him.

“Not to my knowledge, no”, he grinned. “And just like always, I know you’ll excel”, he assured her, watching how Natasha cheeks flushed and she looked down and away from him.

“I’ll try my best. That is for sure”, she mumbled. She was very nervous about the challenges your future would bring her but at the same time she was excited to see who you would become.

“There’s no doubt about that”, he nodded, smiling softly when she rested her head against his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered shut on their own and she stilled completely, the whole weight of her upper body now supported by the captain. There was a soft squeal as Wanda tickled your stomach. You were so thoroughly entertained by her long brown hair that you didn’t even remember to keep an eye on mama. That was the first time ever.

“Steve?” Wanda whispered rather conspiratorially.

“What?”

“Could you hold her for a second?” She asked, walking closer to him, allowing you to inspect him from up close. “I’ll tuck her in”, Wanda mused, glancing at Natasha.

“You’ll wake her up”, he chuckled.

“Believe me, she wouldn’t wake up even if the world burned down”, she joked, handing you to Steve who received you a little awkwardly but because mama and Wanda were both there you didn’t see the point in fussing, at least not yet. You observed with Steve how Wanda cupped Natasha’s cheek and guided her to the other side where the couch was completely free of occupants, lifting her feet up as well. Steve bounced you gently, soothing you just in case you decided to have a meltdown which he had only witnessed from afar and he would like to keep it that way. Then Wanda grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over Natasha’s limp form. Her fingers automatically brushed some of her curls behind her ear in a caring gesture before she backed away, deeming her work good enough.

“Looks like it’s just us now”, Steve hummed to you, smiling as much as he could to seem more approachable. It worked quite well.

“Who-?”

“Shhh.” Clint was met with a loud hiss from both Steve and Wanda, the ruckus he was making way too loud for mama and baby. You recognized him but you were clearly wary, starting to pout a bit from the addition of another new person, your mama oddly quiet.

“Ah, hi little one”, he whispered, immediately understanding the situation. He took one good look at Natasha sprawled on the couch and then grinned.

“Did she put you on babysitter duty?” He asked, waving at you as you sat there in Steve’s arms.

“No, she was wiped out the second she sat down”, Steve explained, adjusting you a bit on his lap.

“She’s one hell of a superhero”, Clint hummed softly in admiration, walking over to her and crouching down. “Please guys, let her sleep as long as possible”, he said to the others, specifically looking at you. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss into her hair.

You brought your fingers to your lips, sucking them into your mouth as you continued to study your surroundings. You frowned. No one was paying any specific attention to you and that just wasn’t acceptable. You swung your hand at Steve, screeching a little.

“Guys, what do I do? What do I do?” Steve asked in panic, his eyes widening. “Is she gonna cry?”

“Shh, Steve you need to calm down or she’ll definitely cry”, Clint said knowingly. “Come here”, he sighed, lifting you up into his arms. You’d never been that close to Clint. He had always stayed back bar for a lone finger you had gotten to squeeze once. None of them really thought about it but it was the first time any of them really got to meet you properly.

Clint brought you to his hip, smiling widely at the memories that flooded his mind. He had missed holding a baby. He had really missed that specific feeling it gave him.

“Who’s a good little baby?” He asked in a soft coo. “You are, yes, you are Y/N”, he continued, bouncing you softly which you seemed to really like. “Maybe I’ll show you around a bit, huh?” He suggested, seeing a bit of curiosity cross your face. “Yeah? Would Y/N like that? I think she would.” Clint walked away from the couches to give Natasha some space. Wanda was physically unable to stay away from you so she skidded after you, leaving Steve and Natasha on the couch. He had pulled one of her legs over his lap and gently massaged her calf, a slight smile on his face caused by none other than the new addition to the family.

You thought you liked Clint. You liked the way he held you and the soft tone of voice he used. He was like mama. He let you kick him and prod his nose with your fingers, just like mama did. Clint didn’t mind you pulling on his ear or studying the neckline of his shirt. You were busy with his rough chin when you heard another voice that you couldn’t recognize no matter how hard you tried.

“Is that Romanoff’s baby?” Bruce asked, Clint chuckling softly.

“Who else’s?” He asked rhetorically, the curly haired man scoffing in return. He came closer to you once he noticed you turn your head into his direction, your round eyes observing him.

“Hi, sweetie”, he hummed quietly, waving at you. Him you hadn’t met once. You had no clue who he was. Your eyes widened, brows furrowing.

“Shh, baby, let’s not cry”, Clint whispered next to your ear and started bouncing you again. “Let’s not cry. There’s no need to cry”, he assured you, turning away from Bruce because his face had clearly upset you. “Look who’s there”, he cheered quietly, rushing to Wanda who was on the other side of the room in the kitchen, leaving Bruce in his own company. You observed the soft chestnut curls and warm green eyes that appeared in front of you. Wanda. You let out a soft “baba”, reaching for the witch.

“She wants me?” Wanda asked quietly, a small frown on her face.

“I think so, yes”, Clint hummed, already moving you into Wanda’s embrace.

“Oh, who’s the cutest baby in the whole wide world?” She squealed, making you squeal as well as she welcomed you into her embrace. “I’m the baby’s favorite”, she flaunted, doing a little twirl with you in her arms, Clint rolling his eyes.

“We’ll see”, he mumbled with a grin on his face.

“We’ll see what?” Another voice asked, this time it was Sam who you had seen maybe twice. You didn’t really recognize him either but his face was much more welcoming than Bruce’s had been. “Well how about that? The little lady has finally gotten out and about”, he said, shaking his head as a smile spread on his face. “Look at those tiny feet”, he mumbled, slowly moving his hand close to your foot to give it a quick squeeze. You didn’t mind it. It was actually okay, your leg kicking the air instinctively as you returned his smile. He tickled your foot again once seeing your positive reaction and you smiled, revealing your gums to him.

“Oh, she has the prettiest smile, doesn’t she?” Wanda asked with the most enamored eyes Sam had seen in a while and he was sure he had those as well when he looked at your soft face.

“She’s so cute I could just eat her up”, he cooed, your fists flailing in the air slightly as you moved yourself around. Not quite sure what was going on but you didn’t mind, you just sat, observing, and it was okay. You didn’t feel scared, but you did already miss mama a bit, feeling a needy pull for her because Wanda didn’t possess the same comfort mama did.

You were entertained by Wanda, Sam and Clint for a good thirty minutes. They had spread your baby bag all over the living room floor, playing with your brown stuffed dog and baby blanket. You were on your stomach, kicking your legs in excitement as Wanda walked the plushie in front of you, talking in a funny voice as the men chatted over you, Clint occasionally cupping the back or your head and brushing your hair, Sam tickling your feet to make you kick them a bit more. Maybe you even had a bit of fun with them until you felt like you had been on the floor for way too long. You missed mama. You missed her so much that you suddenly just burst into tears.

“Hey, shh, what’s wrong ?” Sam asked softly, coming a bit closer to you to gain your attention.

“Look, doggie”, Wanda tried hastily, glancing at Natasha. Unfortunately you didn’t really care for Natasha’s sleeping habits, or rather lack thereof. You let out a whine, thumping the carpet with your hands. Wanda didn’t know what to do other than hush you.

“She probably misses Tasha. It’s already been a while. Believe me this is probably rare”, he chuckled, lifting you off the floor and into his arms. “There, there”, he crooned, patting your tummy as he got off the floor. “Let’s go find mommy.” He couldn’t help but to smile. Natasha was the last woman he thought he would ever be calling mommy.

To everyone’s surprise you hadn’t woken mama up yet with your mild whimpers and fussing and so he hushed you again until you at least partially listened and he brought you to the couch where she was still fast asleep with Steve at the other end of it. You babbled something incoherent, immediately perking up.

“We have to stay quiet so mommy gets to sleep”, Clint explained when you tried to reach for her, kicking your legs to get closer but when you didn’t get any nearer you whimpered.

“Is she seriously still asleep?” Steve asked in disbelief, very aware of how easily Natasha was able to pull herself out of sleep at the slightest of disturbances.

“Man, she must be tired”, Sam groaned from the fluffy carpet.

“Let her sleep, honey”, Clint tried again bringing you back to the carpet but this time close enough so you could still see mama. It was a bit better that way and then the doggie was becoming more and more distracting. However you still turned your head to the side every now and then to make sure mama was still in her spot.

Ten more minutes went by with Natasha in a deep, sweet slumber, an angry cry eventually walking her up. She blinked the sleep from her eyes to see you surrounded by her –and your– family, every one of them fussing around you to make you stop crying.

“Here, little baby, look at doggie”, Wanda tried desperately, Clint hushing you as Sam tried to soothe you by petting your head. Natasha could have honestly cried from happiness at the sight of everyone welcoming you with quite literal open arms. The sight in front of her was pure chaos but it felt like home. You filled a hole that normally left the team quite cold and formal but there you were, knitting it together with your infuriating wails. Natasha smiled softly, moving a bit to stretch her stiff body, the blanket dropping off her body, Steve’s warm hand caressing over her knee.

“When’s the last time you slept that long?” He asked jokingly, Natasha chuckling as she lengthened her entire body straight, yawning heavily.

“Can’t even remember”, she mumbled, settling back down, watching how you noted her voice and stopped crying. Then you were once again wiggling as hard as you could to get to mama.

“Where’s my little Y/N?” She asked, eyes still closed as she enjoyed the few final seconds of peace. You squealed.

“Mmma!” Was all you said when Clint set you down on her chest, Natasha’s hands holding your warm body, head lifting up just enough to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Did you get to know people?” She inquired with a higher tone than normal because you always seemed to listen to it better. Your fists scrunched up in her shirt as you tugged the fabric into your mouth to try to relieve the beginning of your teething. Plus you were probably hungry. “Could we have a moment?” She hummed, looking around at everyone, their eyes glued on you and mama as if it was the most bizarre thing they had witnessed in a while.

“Yeah, of course”, Steve replied, patting her leg before he stood up, the others agreeing as well, slowly filing out of the living room. Clint placed his hand on the side of her head smiling at her upside down from above.

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself”, he murmured, lowering down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m proud of you”, he whispered, Natasha forcing another lump down her throat so she wouldn’t cry.

“Thank you.” Natasha stared up at the ceiling, tears welling in her eyes. She was so overwhelmed by everything and the little amount of rest she had gotten was nowhere nearly enough. All she wanted was to shove you into someone else’s arms so that she could close her eyes for a bit longer, but at the same time she noticed that she missed you. Even in her sleep she missed you and she was worried for you. Her sleep had been decent at best because it was laced with anxiety for you. Natasha found herself to be uneasy even though you were right there and it took her a good moment to mentally talk herself down from her sudden stress. She also felt guilty for partly enjoying her time away from you. Did that make her a bad mother?

She sat up, settling comfortably into the decorative pillows, taking a deep breath before baring her chest for you. She closed her eyes, trying her best to relax for you as you brought your mouth to her breast, suckling her immediately. It was all so overwhelming, too much. She had been away from you for too long and too suddenly. You didn’t even bat an eye, mouth all too busy with your meal.

Natasha looked down at you, holding you firmly against her, left hand caressing your cheek and chin. You got no longer distracted by her touching and found it soothing, your eyes glancing up at her as if to offer comfort, at least that’s what it felt like to Natasha. She gave you a relieved smile, noticing how you got her to relax further into the couch. You were okay. Everything was okay. She felt her eyelids droop, the warmth she felt so welcoming.

“Natasha?” Wanda asked from somewhere farther away, knocking the nearest wall for a heads up.

“Hmm?” The redhead hummed, blinking her eyes open as she turned to look at where the voice had come from.

“Can I come in?” She inquired timidly, very nervous of crossing any unset boundaries.

“Come on in, darling”, Natasha replied, not really minding the intimate moment she was sharing with you. It was time to introduce other people into her daily routine or she would slowly go crazy from lack of sleep. Wanda tiptoed to the couch, sitting down, leaving a respectable amount of space between the two of them and avoiding looking directly at Natasha, just in case. “Wanda”, she called for the younger woman’s attention. “It’s okay, you can look.” The brunette gave her a shy smile, glancing down at the bundle in Natasha’s arms.

“I don’t know how you don’t combust from her cuteness”, Wanda moaned, co*cking her head a bit as she pouted down at you.

“Believe me, sometimes I do”, Natasha chuckled, her fingers trailing down your body.

“Does it feel weird?” Wanda asked in curiosity, their eyes meeting, both of the women smiling slightly.

“At first it did, but now I’m used to it”, she hummed. “Now it’s mostly comforting”, she explained.

“I want to be a mother someday”, Wanda stated in a revering tone, followed by a determined nod. “I want to get pregnant and experience it all”, she continued dreamily. “I think I would want a boy.” Natasha chuckled at that.

“I could not deal with a boy. I have enough grown men to look after”, Natasha scoffed, shaking her head gently. “They’re a handful to say the least. Us girls get along better anyway, don’t we?” Natasha crooned down at you, bouncing you a bit. “Yes we do”, she confirmed to herself, answering for you since you were still completely clueless.

“You do have a point”, Wanda giggled, inching a bit closer to get a better peek at your face. You gave her a quick glance but remained calm.

“Does she eat baby food yet?” The brunette asked in curiosity. “Maybe I could feed her sometime”, she added hopefully and it made Natasha smile, chest warming up a bit. She couldn’t blame Wanda. The redhead herself had always found you irresistible.

“Not yet. She hates the bottle”, she explained, beaming down at you when you let out a gurgle. “I doubt she would be too interested in applesauce and mashed potatoes”, she chuckled. “But once she does I’ll get back to you. I’ll never say no to help”, she assured her, Wanda smiling brightly. Natasha yawned heavily, covering her mouth with her hand as tears sprang to her eyes. She was exhausted. She barely registered your suckling slowing down, your mouth pulling back a bit.

“I can watch over her while she sleeps so you can get some more rest”, Wanda offered with a hopeful smile.

“That would be wonderful, thank you Wanda”, she mumbled sleepily, muffling a yawn into her shoulder. She handed you to the brunette who was already reaching for you and from then on she was out like a light. She didn’t even bother to move to a different spot or fix her position. She simply pulled her shirt down and closed her eyes.

Chapter 4: Sharing is caring

Chapter Text

Slowly but surely you had learned to crawl. You were fast, really fast, which Natasha found amusing because you had the tendency to try to escape whatever spot she had set you down on. During diaper changes you tried to roll away from her and you liked to give her mild heart attacks by crawling too close to the edge of the bed or the couch you were occupying.

She had just discarded the heavy diarrhea filled diaper and cleaned the mustard yellow stickiness off your legs and butt when you rolled around again just when she was turned away from you for no more than a second. You crawled to the edge in determination, not realizing that there was no more bed left. Your balance faltered, sending you down towards the floor.

“sh*t!” Natasha yelped, grasping your onesie just in time before you hit the ground. She tumbled down onto the carpet, holding you to her chest but you only seemed to think it was funny. You giggled, when she lifted you above her at an arm’s length, kicking your naked legs in the air. “You think this is funny?” Natasha asked in a mildly berating tone. You squealed, guffawing quietly. “You think scaring mama is funny?” She asked again as you just smiled down at her, making grabby hands.

“Shi-t”, you said with the widest of smiles, Natasha’s eyes widening. She had been positively vibrating from excitement at the fact that you had started to form sounds that resembled words and she had imagined what you would sound like and what your first word was going to be. She had expected it to be mama because it was probably the word you heard the most, but this was not something she had even taken into account.

“What?” She asked as if you would’ve realized to repeat yourself. “Did you just cuss?” She asked in disbelief, sitting up and dangling you in front of her as she studied your face. You reached your hands for her nose and cheeks, prodding her a bit. “Oh, fu… Nope not saying that anymore”, she groaned in amusem*nt. You babbled something in gibberish, Natasha not able to hold in her laughter.

“Ma”, you screeched proudly at the fact that mama was laughing. “sh*t”, you repeated, lifting your fist to your mouth, chewing on your fingers.

“sh*t indeed”, Natasha mumbled, bringing you to her chest as she stood up to finish changing you. “If anybody asks, your first word was mama”, she said firmly. “Can you say mamma?” She tried, annunciating as clearly as possible.

“sh*t.”

“No, honey, let's try that again. Mama”, Natasha repeated, not able to wipe the smile off her face. It was just too damn hilarious.

“Shht”, you mumbled. She pressed her lips to your forehead, smiling against your skin as she lay you back down on the bed.

“You’re one hell of a baby”, she hummed, pausing after she realized what she had said. “Don’t say that, okay? That language is not for babies”, she reminded you. She kissed you again, peppering your face with wet smooches. “You’re so gosh darn cute”, she cooed, pressing her face into your belly as she kissed you, your hands automatically gripping the locks of red in your reach as you kicked your legs in excitement.

Even if your first word had been rather scandalous and hilarious at the same time, Natasha was still waiting for the m-word that she had been dreading her whole time as a mother. She needed to hear it. She needed the confirmation that you accepted her as your mother. Why hadn’t you said it yet? Surely “mama” was a lot easier than “sh*t” even if your first word resembled more of “shi”, the T rather silent. Sometimes you managed to include the final consonant but most times not. Ironically enough it was the only word you could say so Natasha had to submit to hearing it all day long. “sh*t, sh*t, sh*t” wherever you went.

“Put it on top, like this”, Natasha guided you, lying on her stomach on the carpet where your baby blanket was spread. You lay on your back on it in your flower pattern onesie, holding onto your feet as you watched Natasha play with the colorful blocks in front of you. “Look, it’s a tower”, she explained as you watched intently at what she was doing, the pacifier in your mouth bobbing vigorously. Sometimes, even when you were completely safe, you felt stressed and Natasha could tell it by your wide eyes and busy mouth but she did her best to seem as normal and as calm as possible to show you that nothing was out of the ordinary and you were safe with mama. She wanted you to realize that on your own because she felt like comforting you was only going to get a negative reaction when there was no actual need for it. In your distraction you grabbed your sock and pulled it off, revealing your tiny toes. You didn’t quite understand how you did what you did and it almost shocked you that suddenly you had no sock. It made Natasha smile. She grabbed the piece of fabric you chucked aside and slid it back on your foot.

“We don’t wanna catch a cold”, she hummed, caressing your leg as you swung your arms around a bit. “Here”, she said, offering you a building block. You grasped it, shaking it slightly as if to test how it felt in your hand. Natasha couldn’t resist touching you, her fingertips finding your soft belly and tickling it. You swung your hand, letting go of the block. It bounced to the edge of the carpet but you barely gave it a glance. You stared up at mama who came a bit closer to you, her face appearing above you. Her hand moved to your forehead to caress your face before she planted a kiss on your pacifier.

“My baby”, she mumbled, scooching to lie beside you, her head propped up by her elbow. She placed another kiss on your forehead. “Sweet, sweet baby.” You brought your hand to the pacifier, taking it out of your mouth and offering it to Natasha. She frowned at you when you prodded her lips with it.

“Do I seem stressed to you?” She asked in amusem*nt, dodging the pacifier. You let out a whine.

“Mama”, you screeched, Natasha pausing completely, staring down at you in awe.

“You said it”, she whispered as you offered the pacifier to her again. “Mama”, she tried to prompt you to repeat your word.

“Mama”, you squealed, nudging her cheek with the rubber again as Natasha’s eyes welled up with tears. She couldn’t believe her ears. You let out another whine, kicking your legs because she wasn’t doing what you wanted. “Ma! Mamma!” You screamed, Natasha finally giving in and parting her lips for the pacifier. She wiped her eyes dry of the tears, taking a deep breath. You could sense her distress and had offered her your source of comfort. She couldn’t have refused, not when you were so adorable.

You brought your fingers to your mouth to suckle them and Natasha couldn’t help but chuckle. She dug up a new pacifier for you, replacing the fingers in your mouth with it. Then she pulled her own pacifier out to be able to speak.

“I love you”, she whispered but you just screeched in disapproval and aimed your hand towards her mouth to try to put the pacifier back. “Okay, okay. Mama will put it back.” She said the word with such pride because now she knew you agreed with it. She sucked the rubber into her mouth, settling down onto her back, grabbing a fabric book from the floor and bringing it above you both to look at.

You were already starting to be a whole year old, or presumably. The doctors weren’t able to track your exact date of birth, but they did get pretty close. You had started to trust your new family members more. There was this funny man named Idiot or Asshole, depending on mama’s mood. He was really good with kids and he always made you laugh. You called him Cli-Cli. The rest of his real name was too difficult. Another person you had gotten more accustomed to was Dada although for some reason mama thought it was funny you called her that. But when you tried your very best to make the wa-sound it just came out as “ma” and she wasn’t mama. Natasha called her Wanda which you thought was way over your head. Third person you saw a lot was Tinman. Him you knew as Ti-ti, another one that made mama laugh so hard that you couldn’t help but to squeal loudly every time it made her laugh. Sam was somehow called Bibi and no one knew why. He just was Bibi. And lastly was Big Boy America who you called “Tsss”. He was quiet and safe, but your favorite would always be mama, no matter what.

Natasha had also introduced you to a particularly bad habit of sleeping beside her in “mama’s bed” because you had recurring nightmares and your favorite hobby after being woken up by them was to stand up and bang the bars of your crib until Natasha came and took you to sleep with her. Some days when she had been worn down by your mood swings and slight behavioral issues she just tucked you tightly beside her and called it a night. Your issues weren’t the only reason she did that, although she pretended very fervently so, but in reality she was obsessed with being woken up by you in the asscrack of dawn.

“Mmh”, Natasha moaned quietly, turning her head to the other side to avoid the disturbance that was trying to pull her away from her slumber.

“Mama!” You exclaimed, stretching the consonants, your clammy hands grasping her cheek and chin clumsily. She turned to face you, blinking her heavy eyes open to meet your goofy grin, a few teeth having already poked through your gums. Your hair had grown and you were a lot rounder than your malnourished-self had been.

“Oh, is that-? That can’t be”, Natasha gasped, feigning surprise. “Is that my little Y/N?” She cooed, turning to face you fully as you giggled in excitement, crawling over her arm to press your face into hers. You loved being close to your mama and cuddles were your absolute favorite. You babbled something incoherent, talking to Natasha, trying to explain to her what dreams you had had. She pulled you into an embrace, kissing your cheek as she made a munching sound that always made you giggle. You had recently gotten very into copying everyone around you and so it was only natural that you pulled away and slobbered all the spit in your mouth on Natasha’s cheek, doing your very best to copy the sound she had made. As disgusting as it was, Natasha’s heart melted and she pressed another kiss to your face, slyly wiping her cheek into the blanket.

“Good morning”, she greeted happily. “Can you say ‘good morning’, baby?” She inquired playfully as you just smiled, gurgling something, fists gripping the sheets.

“Ba!” Was all you could get out, Natasha’s hands coming up to your chin to tickle you. She smiled at your loud squeal and the way you keeled into her chest, your clumsy body squirming against her. She didn’t hesitate for a second to pull you into a hug, kissing your head as she cradled you to her chest. “Ba!” You exclaimed again, your tiny fingers digging into the fabric of her top, grabby hands pinching the skin of her breasts, making her wince. She eased your fists off her body, your vigil eyes following her movements as she sat up against the headboard of the bed. Your eyes slid up to meet hers as you smacked your lips, asking for food.

“You want milk? Can you say milk?” Natasha tried, knowing full well you couldn’t.

“Mmm”, you tried impatiently, yanking on the shirt. She uncurled your fingers out of the fabric yet again, pulling it up and lifting you sideways onto her lap.

“There you go”, she hummed, relaxing at the touch of your warm mouth, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. She reveled in the silence around you, an occasional squelch of your mouth the only sound in the room. She pulled the tank top completely off, sighing at your warmth. It soothed her to feel a bit of your skin against her own and ever since the first day with you she had taken it as routine just to hold you against her bare chest. It brought you an infinite amount of comfort as Natasha had figured out.

She smiled down at you, your eager mouth and tiny hands groping her sensitive skin a little too harshly. “Shh, not so roughly”, she hissed, easing you off a little. You could sense your error, pouting up at Natasha, slightly annoyed that your feeding had been interrupted. “Don’t you start with that attitude”, she berated gently, shaking her head at your protruding lip and weak frown before guiding your mouth back to her breast. It was almost as if you glared at her before focusing back on eating. Natasha only huffed at your behavior. You might’ve not been a biological daughter of hers but something about that look reminded her of herself. The comical glares, huffs and pouts were becoming nothing out of the ordinary and only increased as you started to show more and more of your developing personality.

After you were finished with your breakfast, Natasha pulled off your sleeping onesie and put you back down on her chest, both of you breathing in tandem as you lay there in complete silence. The early morning quiet moment was almost always necessary because it took you a while to wake up fully anyway so it was perfect for some mama cuddles. Natasha had also found out that without them the day usually ended in a meltdown. She didn’t know if it was a coincidence or not but it made your days easier regardless. Besides, you would never say no, that was for sure. You huffed quietly, squirming against Natasha, your face scrunching up as you let out a tiny yawn. Mama placed a hand on your back, tilting her chin down to press a kiss to your head, humming a soft tune, her nose buried into your short hairs.

Another thing Natasha had taught you was sharing. And share you did. You had a tendency to offer your food back to Natasha either because you really wanted her to have some or because you didn’t like it yourself, whatever the reason may have been you did it almost without fail.

“Open wide”, Natasha cooed, bringing a spoonful of mashed baby food to your mouth. Your lips parted in spite of how distracted you seemed, your legs kicking happily against the chair as Natasha fed you. That day was an exceptionally good feeding day apparently. You were having a new meal you hadn’t had before. It was a blend of vegetables. The taste was quite mild so Natasha figured you might agree to eat it. To her surprise you didn’t protest at all even though she had fought fifteen minutes to make you sit still in your chair. Once she realized to find you a distraction that you could focus on, you ate your food while playing with your rubber toy that you liked to chew on.

“Say ‘aa’”, she prompted again, bringing more food to your lips. She slid the spoon in with ease and pulled it back when you closed your mouth. She used the rubber spoon to scoop the excess mush off your lips and repeated the action. You swung your toy around, the slippery plastic hard to hold onto and it clattered to the ground. You let out a cry, your face morphing into a desperate frown as you tried to reach for it from your high chair.

“Mama!”

“Honey, you need to be more careful with it”, she instructed, crouching down and grabbing the toy. She gave it back to you but your attention was suddenly drawn to the bowl of food on the tray in front of you where Natasha had set it down before crouching to the floor.

You plunged your hand into the food, studying the warm texture as you spread your fingers. You brought your fist to your mouth, attempting to eat it. Natasha laughed gently, standing up and going to the sink to get a rag that she could clean your hands with.

“Myshka (little mouse), why don’t you try the spoon?” She’s offered, giving you the green spoon.

“sh*t”, you replied so cleverly, Natasha shaking her head in disbelief. She still couldn’t believe that you really knew that word even if you didn’t know what it meant. You grabbed the spoon anyway, clumsily loaded it with food and chucked it across the kitchen, completely ignoring Natasha’s guiding hand. Then she watched you dirty your hands yet again to cup some food.

“Did mama tell you to make a mess?” She asked sarcastically but you just smiled, bringing the hand to her mouth where you slapped the mush on her lips.

“Mama! Fff…”, you giggled, clapping your hands together.

“That better be f as in food”, Natasha berated gently, feeling like she would rather go onto the couch to watch a movie than try to feed a mischievous baby who might f-bomb her from out of nowhere. She wiped the food from her lips into the rag, sighing heavily. “But you’re so darn cute”, she groaned. “Mama can’t lie. You just are”, she hummed, not even caring anymore that you were eating the food with your hands.

“Ew!” Your head whipped around at the sound of Wanda whining, her sock smeared in veggie mush.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t get to clean that up yet”, Natasha chuckled, leaning against the kitchen table. The woman was basically laying on it.

“That’s alright, you look like you could use a break”, the younger woman noted, her eyes softening as she took in Natasha’s demeanor.

“Oh, just a lot of cleaning”, the redhead sighed, blinking slowly, muffling a yawn.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Wanda questioned in amusem*nt, walking to your side, her hand coming up to pet your head.

“Dada!” You exclaimed, lifting your dirty hands up. Wanda dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re being a handful again, huh?” She noted gently.

“Thirty minutes or so”, Natasha answered.

“Ah, no. Go do something in the living room. I’ll take care of her”, Wanda said, shaking her head a bit in disapproval. “Up, up”, she ushered Natasha when she didn’t move first.

“You don’t have to, Wanda. She’s my responsibility”, she reminded her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s family”, the witch reminded her. “Come on, off you go”, she said, nudging the redhead playfully as you kept yourself busy with the mashed vegetables. Natasha couldn’t help but surrender.

“Okay, fine.” She got up, kissing your head, Wanda’s temple next. The woman blushed slightly, ducking her head as she sat down in the redhead’s seat. “Thank you, Dada”, she added teasingly, watching how Wanda rolled her eyes in good nature.

Natasha trudged to the couches in the living room and slumped down. She had a bunch of paperwork to fill out but she just needed to lie down for a moment. She listened to Wanda entertain you through the rest of your meal, your happy squeals making her smile occasionally. It felt amazing to get rest without having to be away from you completely. She didn’t want to admit it but she was very clingy with you and she had to fight the urge to pluck you back into her arms whenever you spent a bit longer in someone else’s.

By the time Wanda and you were done, Natasha had made it to the armchairs where she went through a thick bundle of papers with a bored expression on her face, you and Wanda on the couch opposite of her.

“No, honey, that’s for you”, Wanda said softly, pushing back the hand that was offering her a pacifier. “That’s for baby.”

“Dada”, you whined, pushing your hand towards Wanda’s mouth.

“She wants you to put it in your mouth”, Natasha clarified from across the living room, going back to the papers she was skimming through.

“Y/N-darling, that’s for baby. Not for Wanda”, she tried again.

“She won’t give up. She’s headstrong”, Natasha smirked from the couch, watching how you stood on the couch cushions, face forming into a frown like you were about to burst into tears. Wanda was awfully bad with you when you cried, she often started fussing and panicking because she wasn’t used to babies, so she just leaned forward, opening her mouth only for you to first miss her mouth with the pacifier, then stick it up her nose until you finally got it between her lips. Natasha laughed at your antics, feeling a gentle warmth bloom at her chest. You let out a happy screech at Wanda and her pacifier, the poor woman looking more than confused.

“It’s something that makes her happy and she wants to share it with you”, Natasha explained, sounding rather distracted.

“You have another one?” Wanda mumbled around the rubber, after you didn’t allow her to take it out.

“Always do”, she hummed, digging for it in the baby bag, eyes still glued on the papers. Wanda’s scarlet magic floated the pacifier to her and your eyes widened, mouth gaping as you looked at the beautiful, dark light. You reached up for it but Wanda caught it instead, a slight pout forming on your face.

“Now we can both have it”, Wanda explained, offering the mouth-end of the pacifier to you, but you didn’t open your mouth. Instead you grabbed it into your hand, crawling to the edge of the couch. The brunette helped you down immediately, her magic lending a hand as you took wobbly running steps to Natasha. Your first steps had naturally been taken when Natasha wasn’t looking, sneaky as you were. And ever since then you had been like Lighting McQueen himself, spurting around the house like you got nothing but energy. Natasha had to admit that you had impeccable balance for a toddler.

She put her papers down, smiling at how you reached up for her. She lifted you easily onto her lap as she sat sideways on the comfortable armchair, legs hanging over the armrest.

“Mama!” You squealed, Natasha already opening her mouth for the pacifier. You giggled in excitement at the fact that she understood you immediately and you gave a very sloppy kiss on the pacifier that resembled a bit more of a wet breath and a brush of lips but it made Natasha melt nonetheless. Kissing the pacifier was something mama had taken as a habit and of course you had to do it too then. Natasha was already absentmindedly digging up another pacifier for you. She slid it in your mouth, thumb stroking your silky cheek affectionately. You snuggled into her chest, face buried in her breasts and Natasha was already starting to expect you to possibly go down for a nap, but when you heard some ruckus from the kitchen your head shot up.

“Ti… Ti”, you mumbled, the pacifier wobbling in your mouth as Tony walked over to the couch area.

“Ah, and the baby strikes again!” He exclaimed in excitement, Natasha already rolling you off her chest so you could run to greet him. “What’s up, poopster?” He asked, offering you a high-five but you didn’t really get what he was asking for so you ignored it, Tony resorting to grabbing your hand briefly, pressing it against his palm. You pulled out your pacifier, showing it to Tony. “What’s that? Wow, what a cool paci you got”, he marveled rather animatedly considering it was Tony you were talking to. “What? Tony doesn’t understand. Tony doesn’t like to be handed things”, he explained fruitlessly to you.

“Put it in your mouth”, Natasha grunted from behind her own.

“Okay. I don’t like to be told that”, he shot back at her, Natasha rolling her eyes.

“She’ll start crying in…” Natasha threatened as your brows furrowed. “Three, two-“

“Okay, Titi takes the paci”, Tony gave in, shoving the thing in his mouth as you giggled once again. You were a baby on a mission and so you turned around and skidded to mama to get your own pacifier. Natasha already had one ready for your opened up mouth. She pulled you back onto her lap, patting your bottom gently as you settled down in her embrace, vigil eyes observing that everyone had their respective pacifiers for afternoon nap.

You had so much love to give in you and Natasha could see it in almost everything you did. You loved to give toys and pacifiers to her. You would often offer food and different objects to mama and every single time it made Natasha’s heart explode into a million pieces. She could tell you felt safe around her and she valued that more than anything else. It was so important to her to have you trust her unconditionally and wholeheartedly. You were big on cuddles, hugs and kisses, a real ball of affection. It came to Natasha as a surprise how easy it was to love you. She didn’t expect affection to come easy to her when it had been so rare in her life, but you made it effortless. She was comfortable showing you all the love that she had and she had grown noticeably more comfortable with you.

“Can you say piggy?” Natasha asked, turning to look at you as you sat beside her on the couch, her arm wrapped around you to keep you close.

“P-p”, you mumbled, whipping your head around to see if you did well.

“Almost, honey. Try again”, she said softly, pointing at the book on her lap. “Say pi-ggy.”

“Pi”, you huffed. “Pipi!”

“Can you do a G-sound?” She prompted, repeating the sound a few times for you.

“Gaga”, you muttered, hand patting the pages of the book to make Natasha continue reading.

“Alright, myshka (little mouse)”, she chuckled, leaning down to press her lips to your warm head, her kiss lingering for a while as she brushed her fingers over your locks. “Let’s keep reading.”

“Baba”, you screeched, starting to climb up onto your feet.

“No more reading?” She asked in mild confusion when you started to climb onto her lap.

“Mama”, you whined, Natasha’s heart still not able to maintain a regular rhythm whenever you called her that.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You didn’t reply to her, just sat your little diaper butt on the book and looked up at mama. “What does my baby want?” She asked in confusion, her thumbs smoothing over your belly as her hands rested on your sides. “Do you want tickles?” She suggested, tickling you under your arms. You screeched, a smile cracking onto your lips. “Yeah? Does that tickle?” She asked, continuing to poke and prod you until you were guffawing loudly. “Oh, my sweet baby”, she hummed when you muffled your giggles into her abdomen, burying yourself as close as possible. Natasha patted your bottom rhythmically, smiling to herself.

“You’re such an angel”, she stated, crouching down a bit to kiss your head again. You looked up at her, your lips copying the movement of the kiss. “You wanna give mama a kiss?” She asked softly as you stood up to reach her better.

“Ki-ki”, you whispered in determination, your sticky hands grasping Natasha’s cheeks. She smiled at you widely as you slowly pressed your lips to hers, the redhead pecking you back. Your eyes were wide open and you found her distorted eyes so funny. You giggled loudly at the way the kiss tickled your lips, repeating the action in excitement. Natasha laughed along with you this time and she couldn’t help the tears that invaded her eyes. She wiped them off as quickly as she could so they would go unnoticed by you which she thankfully succeeded at. You continued to laugh, leaning into her for support.

“Ki-ki!” You shouted, bringing your mouth to hers again.

“Muah”, Natasha hummed, giving you the biggest kiss ever. You squealed again. She just couldn’t resist it. She pulled you close, pressing kisses all over your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you”, she said firmly, hugging you close. You cried out a giggle, clearly enjoying all the attention you were receiving. “Did you know mama loves you?” She asked brightly.

“Mama!” You shouted, recognizing one of the only words you knew how to say.

“Yes, mama”, she confirmed, smiling softly at you. “I love you more than anything in the world”, she confessed, cupping your chubby cheeks, just taking in your beautiful, soft features. She put the book aside and brought you to her chest as she stood up, your face resting on her shoulder. You slept a lot more than Natasha had ever expected you to and the second nap of the day was clearly coming when you yawned heavily, letting out a soft cry.

“Shh, baby, let’s not cry”, she whispered next to your ear, bouncing you softly as she walked around the bedroom. You whimpered again, sobbing softly as the hot tears spilled against Natasha’s neck. After refusing to take your pacifier she immediately knew what you wanted. She sat back down in the arm chair, pulling her shirt up for you. It didn’t take you long to stop fussing. It worked like magic every time. Although you still relied heavily on breast milk as a source of nutrition Natasha was relieved that you had started to accept other foods into your diet because her supplies were starting to run out and she couldn’t produce enough milk to fulfill your needs anymore, but she still had enough for comfort.

Natasha petted the slope of your nose, humming softly to you, watching how any and all stress evaporated from your still form. She curled one of her fingers around a lock of your hair, her smile widening. It was growing, had grown a lot and she couldn’t wait to figure out different hairstyles that she could do for you. She already knew how to braid so that was most likely going to be incorporated into your hairstyles. She had gone shopping for baby things a thousand times but she almost couldn’t wait to move up into the toddlers section and pick out adorable dresses and skirts and pants as well as hair ties, headbands and clips. She had already seen hair ties with fluffy pompoms on them and she could already imagine you with two piggy tails decorated with pompoms. She could barely contain her excitement at the thought as she gave you a tight squeeze.

“I can’t wait to share the rest of my life with you”, she whispered, running her fingers down your arm.

Chapter 5: Accidents happen

Chapter Text

“Fish!” You exclaimed, splashing around in the few inches of water, Natasha leaning her chin against the edge of the tub. You were sitting in the shallow water, giggling in excitement as you splashed your hands against the surface to create a slapping sound.

“Milaya (honey), it’s a duck”, Natasha corrected you gently, nudging the rubber ducky your way from the other end of the tub.

“Fish!” You screeched again, giggling, ignoring the ducky. You leaned back a bit, just enough to kick your legs in the water to create more splashes. You loved to do that and it was the sole reason Natasha’s shirt was wet from the front.

“Alright, why don’t we get you out?” She suggested, climbing to stand up by using the tub as support. You had been soaking in the water for almost an hour and Natasha’s knees were starting to ache against the stone floor. She hoisted you up to stand as well so she could grab the shower head and hose you down with fresh water. “Stand there, baby. Don’t move”, she instructed you, turning around to grab a towel for you.

There was a splash and a clang, followed by a horrifying wail. Natasha’s heart fell into her stomach as she whipped back around to claim you from the tub, her eyes widening at the sight of crimson blood swirling in the water. You continued to scream as hard as you could, your entire body tensed by the effort in your wails.

“Shh, malyshka (baby), shh, mama budit smatrit (mama will take a look)” Natasha tried on the verge of panic, as she set you down on the bathroom floor. Your brow was bleeding, red streaming down your face, the sight enough to make the former assassin’s hands tremble.

Natasha brought the towel to your forehead, carefully wiping the blood off but it poured out of the laceration with such speed that it was wiser to give up and go seek medical attention. She was only wearing underwear and a t-shirt when she sped out of the apartment and rushed down the halls to find the compound ER that was always on call for any and all kinds of emergencies. Clint ran into her on the third floor, Natasha’s tear streaked face and the way she was clutching you to her chest enough to alarm him thoroughly so he tagged along, no questions asked.

“Please, please help”, Natasha cried, banging on one of the doors of the doctor’s offices. A brunette man slid it open a few seconds later, taking in the sight before him. “She- she fell in the tub”, she explained hastily, offering you to the young man who received you skillfully into his arms, wincing slightly at the screams you were letting out.

“When was this?” He asked, sounding very professional.

“Just now”, Natasha replied, panting gently. She walked beside you and the doctor to observe you while he took a look at you, Clint coming up behind her and wrapping his arm around her waist. Those huge green eyes turned to him, filled with desperation. “What if I killed her?” She whispered in terror, Clint shaking his head.

“No, sweetheart, she’s going to be okay”, he assured her calmly. He knew kids get hurt all the time. He knew that accidents happened but babies were resilient. They were designed to take the blow or two because life hadn’t gotten the chance to give them all the tools yet.

“I’m a murderer. I killed my own child”, she whimpered, Clint shaking his head again, an empathetic frown on his face.

“Shh, she’s alright”, he tried again, his arm pulling her into an embrace as the doctor listened to the sound of your lungs, his other hand holding a patch to your forehead.

“Lungs sound flawless”, he noted, grimacing again at your loud wail. Natasha sank into Clint’s arms, trembling slightly as she held in her cries. “I’m sure she’ll be alright”, the doctor commented. He patted the wound on your brow with an antiseptic cloth, studying the length and depth of it. “I’ll give her some medicine to ease the pain a bit and a mild sedative to make her calm down so I can glue the wound shut. It’ll leave a more inconspicuous scar”, he explained, talking softly as he tried to calm you down with gentle touches.

“Okay”, Natasha stuttered, pulling away from Clint. “Will it take long?”

“No, not at all. I’ll apply a few layers of the adhesive. It shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes”, he said, rolling away from the examination table to the side in his office chair to grab some equipment. Natasha wiped her eyes clean, seeming frustrated as she nodded her head. You had started to calm down a bit, taking labored breaths as you still fussed slightly. “I’ll go get some supplies. Comfort her. She needs it”, he instructed Natasha who nodded once again. She lifted you off the table and into her arms, humming softly.

“I did this”, she mumbled softly, looking down at you.

“No, Natasha, this isn’t on you”, Clint said immediately.

“You don’t even know what happened”, she sighed in defeat.

“Then tell me what happened”, he prompted.

“I-I turned around to grab a towel”, she explained with a teary voice. “And I didn’t even get to turn back around before she fell.” She sniffled, looking down at you, her hand caressing the side of your face. “Prosti menya, kroshenka (forgive me, little one)”, she whispered, Clint rubbing her back softly. “I shouldn’t be a mom. I’m not a mother”, Natasha blurted. “She deserves someone better.”

“Listen to me, Tash. You’re an amazing mother. Accidents happen, okay?” He started. “You have no idea how many times I dropped Cooper or left Lila unsupervised and she fell down the stairs or off a chair. Accidents happen, honey. You couldn’t have known”, he explained comfortingly.

“Yeah, yeah but I-I could’ve lifted her out of the tub before grabbing a towel”, she reasoned, sounding heartbroken.

“Shh, hey, look at me. This doesn’t make you a bad mother”, he whispered, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “This doesn’t take away from everything you’ve succeeded at”, he assured her, catching a tear that slid down the apple of her cheek. “Laura once fell down the stairs with Coop in her arms and she beat herself up for it for weeks even though nothing happened to him.” Natasha stayed silent, seeing the blurred lines of your frame as she stared down at you. “Mistakes happen. And now you know to take her out of the bath first”, he mumbled.

“Alright”, the doctor returned into the room. “Set her down for me please. Would you mind if I offered her a pacifier?” He asked politely, sitting down in his chair and rolling it close to the table.

“Oh, no, she loves those”, Natasha replied as she set you down on the thin linen. You received your pacifier and the doctor began to fix you up. She watched as he pinched the edges of your brow together, applying the adhesive with a cotton-tipped glue applicator as you soothed yourself with the rubber nipple in your mouth. He let the glue dry for a minute or so before applying another layer. After the fourth layer he applied a nonocclusive bandage and you were all patched up.

“Give her a dose –that is 2,5 milliliters– of paracetamol syrup if she seems to be in pain. If you would rather use a suppository the equivalent dose is 60 milligrams”, the doctor said as he took off his gloves and dropped them into the trash, cleaning some of the supplies out of the way. “The adhesive sloughs off on its own in 5-10 days so you don’t need a follow up appointment unless something out of the ordinary occurs”, he added, offering both Clint and Natasha a polite smile.

“Thank you, thank you so much”, Natasha nodded, gathering you into her arms, kissing your temple multiple times. She was covered in goosebumps, the freezing floors bleeding cold up her legs. She shivered.

“Will you two be okay?” Clint asked, kissing the top of your head, his hand caressing over Natasha’s hair.

“Yeah, we’re okay”, she hummed, smiling softly when your head lolled into the crook of her neck, the pacifier bobbing gently against her skin.

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh. Go to bed. You look like sh*t”, she quipped with a teasing grin.

“Yeah, yeah”, he groaned, pulling Natasha and you into a brief hug, lips pressing to her forehead. “Don’t hesitate to call me”, he added before he walked out the door.

Natasha brought you back home, placing you into your crib where she tucked you in, the pacifier from the ER still tightly in your mouth. Then she cleaned up the blood from the bathroom, emptied the tub and got herself ready for bed. When she finally crawled under the covers she burst into tears. She was a horrible, horrible mother. She was supposed to protect you. That was her only job and she had failed to do it. You got hurt, badly, more than a bump in the head and Natasha couldn’t forgive herself for it no matter what Clint had said. She clutched the sheets to her chest, occasionally wiping her snotty nose into the corner of the blanket, body jolting from the sobs that she muffled with her hand. She didn’t deserve you. She shouldn’t have done any of it. Why had she thought that she could take care of you? She was so delusional, so caught up in her dream of being a mother. She thought of giving you up. She exhausted every possible solution of how to rid you of the curse that Natasha was, how to save you from her ubiquitous destruction. Yet she couldn’t find a solution. She couldn’t stand the thought of giving you up. She was too selfish for that. She loved you too much. She had become dependent on you. A wave of shame washed over her. She wasn’t supposed to love. She wasn’t supposed to care. She was supposed to be ruthless. So what, you got hurt? She wasn’t supposed to care. She wasn’t designed to care. She wiped her tears away, took a deep breath and turned around in the sheets. She fell asleep with relative ease after filling her thoughts with old disarming tactics that she used to practice in her mind when she went to bed in the Red Room.

You woke her up with a panicked cry in the early dawn, a searing pain spreading across the front of your head. Natasha heard the difference in your tone. She knew it wasn’t hunger or a nightmare. This was pain. She had her own throbbing headache from crying and she sympathized with you as she crawled out of bed, eyes almost crusted shut but she managed to rid them of the blur with a few more blinks. She hoisted you out of the crib bringing you to her chest as you cried. She tucked your face into her neck, hushing you softly. She walked to the dresser across the room, unboxing the medicine given to her by the doctor with her free hand. It took some extra effort to get the syrup into the syringe included in the package but she just couldn’t stand the thought of setting you down. She didn’t want to let go of you.

“Shh, there there. Mommy’s right here, I’ve got you angel”, she crooned, bouncing you a bit. Then she had to figure out how to get you to actually swallow down the medicine. You had a tendency to refuse everything but milk in the mornings. Maybe it was the wisest to first offer the syrup and flush it down with breakfast. After a brief moment of consideration and a wince from a loud cry of yours she settled on her initial plan. She brought you to her bed where the pillows were perfectly arranged for the both of you and wiggled out of her shirt. She then brought the syringe to the back of your throat and squirted it in one go, hoping for the best. You couldn’t do anything but swallow the vile liquid, coughing at the taste of it, but ultimately it went down with no further complications. Natasha adjusted your position, your mouth opening up for her breast in an instant, searching for relief from the medicine. You still hurt and Natasha could tell that by the tears that continued to streak down your cheeks but at least you didn’t seem to be in unbearable pain.

“I’m so sorry, malyshka (baby)”, she whispered, feeling herself get choked up again. She couldn’t fall apart now. She couldn’t, but she felt so awful. “I won’t make a mistake like that again. I’ll do my best.” That was something she couldn’t promise, so she didn’t. But she desperately wished she could’ve guaranteed that it would never happen again. You let out a whimper, your fist gripping the flesh of her chest. Natasha didn’t mind it, even if it hurt. She focused all her energy and attention on you, caressing your features, her heart constricting with the love she felt for you.

•

“Did baby get an ouchie?” Wanda hummed with a huge pout when your hand patted the bandaid over your brow. The woman was basically sitting on Steve’s lap because he was holding you in his arms. You nodded blankly, the pacifier in your mouth bobbing rhythmically.

“It wasn’t your fault in any way”, Steve reminded Natasha as he bounced you in his arms, coming back to the same argument Natasha had fed everyone for the past hour.

“It was”, she replied bluntly.

“It’s not like you kicked her down”, Tony scoffed, bored of the subject and tired of Natasha’s retaliation.

“I should’ve been more careful”, she grunted.

“But you weren’t. Move on”, Tony groaned. He received an angry glare from Steve. “What I’m saying is just... Man up a little. It was just a scratch.”

“That’s rich coming from a bitch boy like you”, Natasha retorted, rolling her eyes in exhaustion. None of them were of any use to her. She was right and they were wrong. It was her fault. End of story. They were just trying to protect her feelings, but she didn’t need protection.

“You didn’t know before but now you know better. Accidents happen and all we can do is move on. It doesn’t matter whose fault it was”, Clint reasoned, resting his palm on Natasha’s shoulder. “It’s better to stop dwelling on it.” She nodded at him, thankful that he was present because Tony was impossible when it came to advice.

“Why does her hair look like that”, he suddenly commented, Natasha internally ready to burst into tears as she watched him poke the pompoms in your hair.

“Well, the tutorial looked a lot easier”, she countered bitterly, standing up and plucking you back into her arms. You squealed, your arms wrapping around her neck. She welcomed the kiss you aimed at her lips, gave everyone an unimpressed once-over and left the room.

Your hair really was a mess. It didn’t look even remotely like the hairdo in the tutorial had looked. She never realized that the specific pompom hair ties were different from normal hair ties and they were used differently. After figuring that out she no longer had the time to dig out new hair ties and she was left with the double beaded pompoms. They were definitely tied the wrong way and that’s why your hair was a bit wonky but at least the pompoms looked cute. She kissed your head, smiling softly.

“We’re gonna go do your hair again, okay?” She asked you, her tone sweet and gentle, a stark contrast to the way she was fuming in her mind. No one was going to insult her daughter’s hair and she would do her damn best to make sure of it.

Natasha gathered all of the new hair accessories on the bed, sat you down between her legs and started to unravel your hair from the hairdo. Your hand reached for one of the cute green pins on the bedding, grasping it tightly in your fist as you brought the little frog decor on it into your mouth.

“Baby, take the teddy bear instead. You’re gonna choke on that and I really don’t need that right now”, Natasha sighed, pulling the pin out of your mouth and handing you a bear the same size as you. She watched you frown and then smile when your hands felt the soft fur of the stuffed toy.

“Brr”, you said, grabbing its ear.

“Yes, bear”, she hummed, bringing a comb to your hair to help her shape it a bit to slick down the wisps for a second round of space buns that were this time hopefully gonna be better. “Honey, keep your head still for mommy, okay?”

“Ok-ay”, you hummed absentmindedly because the bear was stealing all your attention. You didn’t even notice how Natasha occasionally tugged at your hair or a pin pinched your scalp. You just kept playing with the fluffy thing.

“So…”, Natasha started slowly. “What would you say if we shaved your head?” She questioned with heavy sarcasm. “I think it would look lovely on you”, she joked, trying her very best not to tug too hard on the tangled up pompoms. “Maybe we’ll try a different hairstyle.”

When Natasha had finally gotten the hair ties out of your hair she started to look up another tutorial on her tablet, the sudden lack of attention something you didn’t like. You turned your head around aggressively, trying to see what mama was doing instead of touching your hair. You left the bear alone, crawling onto your knees to move closer to Natasha. You touched the pad, copying her and you received a slightly irritated look but you didn’t care. You wanted mama. You crawled onto her lap, pushing your face into her soft belly. You let out a laugh, completely oblivious of Natasha’s despair. Her heart softened, a slight smile spreading onto her lips. You were so pure, so innocent she couldn’t help but to forget about everything else and focus on the peace and comfort you brought.

“Kiki”, you mumbled, tugging on her shirt before moving your grabby hands up towards her. She hoisted you into her arms, hugging you tightly, feeling just a little stupid for the wide grin on her face.

“Does Y/N want a kiss? Do you want a kiss?” She asked, pulling back to look at your face. You nodded your head, smiling wide, one of your teeth peeking out. “Mama will give kisses, alright?” She hummed, pressing her lips to your forehead. She kissed your cheeks and your nose as you giggled, her mouth purposely avoiding the brow that had split open. Natasha tickled your side with her lithe fingers, enjoying the pure joy in your laughter as she kissed your cheeks again. You squirmed in her arms, your eyes squished shut from how hard you were laughing. Natasha lay back on the bed bringing you to her chest so she could just hold you, but you crawled higher because you wanted to see her face. You appeared in her line of sight and you both burst into laughter. She littered you with kisses yet again, feeling at ease in your company.

“We’ll try this again”, she hummed, getting up once the laughter had died down. “We’ll just use the tiny elastic bands. They’re probably more appropriate for your hair”, she mused out loud as she got up again and set you back down between her legs. You received one more kiss in your hair before Natasha got back to work. She ended up with decent little pigtails on either side of your head. The hairs that didn’t quite reach were pinned down with the green froggy pins.

“Look at you! So beautiful”, Natasha cheered, feeling proud of herself for once. Your hand came up to your head to feel around the hairdo but you didn’t seem too interested in it because you immediately started showing mama the toy bear you were holding. She marveled at it animatedly, cheering you on as you tried to blabber whatever story you had come up with. Then you chucked the toy across the bed, pointing at it with your finger as it tumbled over the edge.

“Brr, go-go”, you explained, Natasha chuckling softly. That was your first sentence. Naturally it was impossible for her to keep her lips to herself and she drowned you in kisses as you giggled joyously.

Chapter 6: Ups and downs

Chapter Text

You grew up fast, almost too fast. Natasha could practically see you stretch in height and her arms could clearly detect the steady weight gain. She had even asked the doctor if it was normal for you to be growing so fast but she had assured her that you were as healthy as ever. Natasha was relieved by that but she couldn’t help but to feel sorrow because her little snotball was growing up and she couldn’t slow it down. Natasha was excellent with change, she thrived in it. She was a master of adjusting but with you all those master skills were of no use. She felt like you were slipping away from her even though you were right there. You were there even more than before because your clinginess only seemed to intensify the more Natasha took you out. She was introducing you to everyone around, showing you different spaces and making you taste different foods but just like as an infant you were rather reluctant towards anything but milk. Your vocabulary expanded quite quickly, especially objects and more concrete words were the ones you used the most. Even sentences were starting to become more frequent.

Certain spaces and emotions triggered you occasionally and it always resulted in tears. If someone was angry and you were in the living room the person wasn’t allowed to express it until you had been taken elsewhere. A single angry huff from Bruce had resulted in an hour of screaming and crying and Natasha soon learned that small, quiet spaces like closets were not the best place to soothe you. However a place that you loved was the rooftop of the compound where it was light and windy, where you could breathe. You liked the view, the sky. The scenery gave you something else to focus on instead of the numbing fear that came back to you with triggers. Natasha had come to accept that it might be something that you would have to battle with for the better part of your life. Sometimes you just felt sh*tty and there was nothing anyone could do. Natasha had yet to figure out how to address you when you were cranky and sensitive. Mood swings were apparently also something that was becoming more common.

“Look, Y/N, here comes a potato plane”, Natasha cooed enthusiastically, trying to bring the plastic spoon to your pouty lips. You just stared at her pathetic attempts to feed you.

“No!” You exclaimed, slamming your hands to the table of the feeding chair.

“You need to eat, baby”, she tried to reason, the spoon hanging from her fingers as if she was just about to give up.

“No, no, no, no. No food. Milk”, you tried to argue, shaking your head. “Want milk”, you whined, banging the table. Despite your angry protest, Natasha brought the spoon to your lips and nudged it inside your mouth. You didn’t like that. Not one bit, and you were threatening to be on the verge of tears.

“My sweet angel”, she sighed heavily. “What if mama gives milk after your meal?” She suggested hopefully but you just shook your head.

“Now! Now, now, now”, you babbled, hands reaching for the bowl of food, but Natasha knew your motive was anything but to eat. She had learned that the hard way, eventually having had to clean up baby food from the fridge door. She knew she couldn’t give in because then it would become a habit and you needed to consume other foods alongside the milk that you were so incredibly fond of. ”Kiss”, you suddenly whined, hands now reaching for Natasha instead as if your anger had completely vanished, replaced by sorrowful tears. You gave her the biggest puppy eyes, pleading for mama, but she simply squinted at you in suspicion.

“Are you trying to get out of the chair?” She asked, having a strong inkling of your plan.

“Kiss, mama”, you tried again, kicking your legs, a whine escaping you.

“What if mama gives a kiss when you eat?” She suggested, once again offering the spoon. You frowned, the tears spilling over your cheeks.

“Kiss!”

“No, baby, it’s lunch time”, she replied, tired of trying, tired of having the same fight multiple times a day. “We can do kisses and cuddles after, when it’s nap time”, she said softly, propping her head on her elbow, still offering you the spoon. “Open wide, baby”, she hummed, pushing the spoon to your lips again. “Mama will give you a kiss after”, she promised you, watching how you gave her a displeased frown, vigil eyes holding Natasha’s gaze as you parted your lips for the lukewarm mashed potato. She slid it in your mouth, pulling it out, allowing your top lip to scoop the spoon clean.

You smacked your lips, swallowing down the mush as Natasha wiped the excess food off your lips. You could have eaten by yourself, you were skilled enough but Natasha could certainly not trust you with the spoon. You had a tendency to chuck it across the floor or at Natasha.

“Kiss!” You demanded loudly, reaching for mama.

“Alright, alright baby”, Natasha hummed, leaning down to peck your forehead, but you only screeched in protest. “What?” She asked in confusion, leaning closer so your hands could reach her face. You grabbed Natasha’s cheeks, squishing them a little as you brought her face to face with you, pressing your mouth on her lips and letting out a loud ‘muah’. It made you smile and giggle, hands reaching back for her cheeks. Natasha smiled at you, co*cking her head a little. “That made you smile, huh?”

“Kiss-kiss”, you repeated. You knew how to talk in sentences but you weren’t too talkative to begin with, which is why you often opted for single words.

“Do you know how to ask properly?” Natasha prompted, waiting for you to say please and a full sentence.

“Wants kiss”, you whined.

“Who wants a kiss?” She asked.

“Me!”

“And how do you say that correctly?” The redhead tried, plucky as she was.

“I want kiss… please?” You muttered with a pout, not satisfied with how long your kiss was taking.

“Good girl, you did so good for mama”, she praised, caressing your cheek as she leaned down to kiss you, but the kiss was so quick you barely had time to process it.

“No!” You screamed, trying to pull her back. “Mama didn’t ‘muah’”, you whined, gripping her shirt for dear life. “Yescho raz (again)!” That was another surprising feature Natasha had discovered. She spoke Russian to you occasionally and had done so especially in the beginning but she never intended to raise you as bilingual, yet somehow some short phrases seemed to have found their way into your vocabulary.

“No?”

“No! Mama need ‘muah’!” You whimpered.

“Okay, mama will ‘muah’”, Natasha promised. “Ready?” You nodded firmly. “Mmmmuah”,she hummed, pressing her lips to yours again. You giggled, clapping your hands in excitement, opening your mouth for the spoon that she snuck to your lips. That worked for you and the mashed potatoes were consumed in less than fifteen minutes. She cleaned you and the chair off, lifting you to the floor so you could run around. You had a lot of energy. Sometimes even too much. Your anger and frustration were nowhere to be seen and you were gladly sprinting around the kitchen as Natasha put away the dishes.

“Mama!” You screamed, running into her leg and hugging it with all your might. The top of your head reached above Natasha’s knee as you nuzzled into her, giggling. “Mamaa! No clean!” You wanted to play, not clean and mama didn’t seem to understand that.

“Baby, go see if someone else can play for a while”, she said, hoping you would soon start to become a bit more interested in other people, so you would find the courage to voluntarily interact with the rest of your family because, after all, Natasha didn’t have all the time in the world.

“Stupid mama!” You shouted, hitting her leg with your tiny fists, the redhead sighing as she closed her eyes to gather herself. “I hate mama!” You bellowed, running off into the living room where hopefully someone else was. It wasn’t the first time you had done such things and Natasha knew not to take it too seriously, although the first time she had excused herself from Wanda and gone into the bathroom to cry. But when you had later acted like nothing had ever even happened and given your normal nap cuddles and kisses, she had realized that it wasn’t that serious, but she had definitely had more than a few talks about the topic with you.

“Woah, woah, woah! What is this language that I’m hearing?” Steve scolded gently from the living room couch. “You kiss your mama with that mouth?“ He asked in disbelief. You froze at the sound of his voice, staring at him with huge, vigil eyes. You were reserved around people and it became more common the older you got. You had seen Steve a thousand times but now all of a sudden you were hesitant to interact with him.

“Mama is meanie”, you whispered, your finger in your mouth.

“No, mama wasn’t”, he said softly. “Go apologize to her”, the blond ordered, still keeping his voice as soft as ever.

“But…”

“Mama didn’t deserve that, did she?” Steve tried again, leaning closer to you as you shook your head. “Go apologize, sweetheart.” You skidded back to where Natasha was, slowing down around the table, ashamed of your actions. You built up the courage to tiptoe to her, tugging on the hem of her shirt.

“Mommy”, you whispered, barely audible. Natasha looked down at you with a feigned pout. “Are you sad?” You asked quietly, turning your gaze to your feet in shame. Natasha dried her hands and crouched down to your level.

“You did a mean thing”, she said, her index finger lifting your chin up so you could see her. Your lower lip was wobbling, eyes teary and wide. “Would you like it if mama said she hates you? If mama hit you?” She asked with a little frown. You shook your head hastily. “How would that make you feel?”

“Sad.”

“That’s right, my love. Is there something you want to say to me now?” Natasha prompted softly, rubbing your little arm.

“I’m sorry”, you sighed, tears spilling over. You thought about what you had done, imagining her doing the same to you. “Mama not gonna hit me? Like I hit?” You mumbled incoherently.

“No, god no, baby. I will never lay a hand on you. I promise”, Natasha assured you, her eyes threatening to tear up at your words, at the hesitance on your face. She knew for a fact that she had once asked that very question and received a blow to the face for speaking up. You opened your arms asking for a hug timidly, shying slightly away from Natasha. She welcomed you into her embrace as you tucked your face into her neck, letting out a sob.

“Shh, everything is okay, darling. Mommy is okay. Mommy’s not mad or sad”, she said comfortingly, lifting you off the floor and walking into the living room with the intention of sitting down on the couch or the armchair. You rested the side of your head on her chest, listening to the even beat of her heart, sniffling every now and then. She was warm, so comforting. She would keep you safe forever. Mama’s hands covered your body, rubbing you softly to soothe you until your tears had dried. She spoke to Steve occasionally and they chatted for a while. You liked the rumble of her voice against your cheek. It reminded you of her presence and made you feel at ease. You wanted closer, your little fist grasping her shirt and tugging it. Natasha knew what you wanted and automatically made your wish come true. She cradled you to her right arm, lifting her loose shirt up to bare her breast. Steve’s eyes shot up to the ceiling and he immediately became more than awkward, Natasha chuckling quietly.

“Oh, don’t be such a teenage boy”, she bemoaned. “I don’t care what you see, if you wanna see both of them all you have to do is ask”, she said teasingly, winking his way. She loved to see him flustered and red in the face. “Quick! You’re gonna miss it”, she exclaimed, pretending to flash him but she knew that he’d do anything to not look and so Steve covered his eyes and turned away. She laughed at his reaction, causing you to pull away to giggle as well because if mama was laughing then it must’ve been something funny. She turned to you at the sound of it, smiling. You giggled with a wide smile, bringing your mouth back to her breast.

“Uncle Steve is scared of boobies”, she told you animatedly, glancing Steve’s way in amusem*nt.

“Silly Tss”, you mumbled, laughing again because the idea of being afraid of mama was so ridiculous to you. Natasha cradled the back of your head, fingers playing with your thin hairs.

“That’s right. Silly Steve”, she echoed, smiling as you leaned back in to suckle her.

You were starting to like Steve. He was always so gentle and quiet that he made you feel safe. Compared to Tony he was much more level-headed and less unpredictable. Steve was also starting to get more used to you and he found himself enjoying the time he spent with you. He was still too nervous to be around you alone but with Natasha, Wanda or Clint by your side it was noticeably easier for him. And believe it or not he sometimes even sought you out to spend time with you. He was intrigued by you and the tiny little thing that you were.

“Are you helping mama workout?” Natasha asked you, laying on her back, holding you above her instead of the two heavy dumbbells on either side of her head. You let out a loud laugh as she brought you down to hover above her chest, planting a kiss on your lips. “You’re gonna make mama strong”, she hummed, doing another repetition of the move and planting yet another kiss on you. The giggle you let out made Natasha laugh herself. “How many more reps? What do you think?”

“More!” You cackled, your eyes scrunching shut, your hands reaching back for mama when she straightened her hands to bring you up.

“Five? Ten? You think I could do ten more?” She questioned, bringing you down, your hands grasping her cheeks to help you aim your kiss better.

“Ten!” You said immediately, giggling uncontrollably when she almost threw you back up, speeding up her pace. Every time you came back down she littered you with kisses.

“I see you’re getting a proper workout in”, a gentle male voice said from somewhere nearby. Both you and Natasha turned your heads to see Steve walking towards you in the gym, Natasha giving him a bright smile.

“Look who it is”, she prompted, turning you towards him slightly.

“Tss!” Was all you said before you were giggling again, lying on Natasha’s chest, getting sprinkled with kisses.

“Want me to hold her for a second so you can lift something that weighs more than a tiny sack of potatoes?” He asked in amusem*nt, now standing right beside you.

“Will the weights give me kisses?” She asked with a witty smile, tickling your sides.

“I hope not”, Steve chuckled. “Those would leave quite the bruises”, he reasoned. Natasha sighed heavily.

“Maybe I should get a couple of sets in”, she groaned, lifting you up again but this time you didn’t come back down but you went even higher. You were lifted out of Natasha’s arms and into Steve’s.

“Mama work”, you huffed with a slight pout, watching Steve pick up each dumbbell and hand them to the redhead to where you had been just a second ago before she started lifting.

“Yes, mama is working out so she can be strong… er”, he immediately corrected his words when Natasha gave him a look. “Mommy is so strong”, he assured you, crouching down so you could be closer to her. “This move is great for the chest and the arms”, he explained even though you couldn’t have cared any less about some heavy things.

“She lift… so she can..she put the, the she…she”, you explained, Steve blinking a couple of times to try to decipher what on Earth you were talking about, Natasha’s grip faltering, the weights thudding to the floor. She hid her laugh behind her arm.

“What was that, sweetie?” She asked innocently, not able to even look at Steve without bursting into laughter.

“Mama lift!” You said firmly.

“Yes, and why does mama do that?” She prompted so you could try to finish the thought you had had.

“Strong!”

“Yes, to be strong”, Natasha nodded, glancing away and biting her lip. “Mama lifts so she can be strong. Can you say that?”

“Mama lifts… strong!” You said confidently, clapping your hands. Natasha shook her head in amusem*nt, sitting up to press a kiss on your cheek before going back to lifting.

You worked out a little bit yourself, climbing up Steve’s arms, screaming and giggling when he let you hold onto his hand as he did bicep curls. You got an in-depth tour of the gym and a personalized weight lifting session from Steve where he made you shoulder press a water bottle. You did box jumps with a bit of assistance from the super soldier. Each time you jumped, aiming at the very top of the box that was at least one and a half times your height, he lifted you up by your hands to boost your jump so you could reach the top. Then you would jump down so he could catch you and you could jump again. The box kept you entertained for the better part of Natasha’s workout. Another thing you liked was running, so Steve would tag you as it and run around the gym, pretending that he couldn’t get away from you. You fell a couple of times but that wasn’t enough to dishearten you. You simply got back up and kept running. Finally you got to sit on Steve’s shoulders as he did squats. You especially enjoyed the up and down motion. It felt funny in your tummy and you would scream and clap your hands in excitement.

“Oh, baby you’ve been up there forever. Steve must be exhausted”, she teased, walking to you, her arms reaching up after noticing your grabby hands.

“Yeah, my thighs are starting to cramp”, he joked, smiling brightly. Natasha pulled you into her arms and you did your usual cuddle but halted when you found your cheek to be wet. You wiped at it with your hand, frowning in confusion. It made both of the adults chuckle.

“It’s sweat, honey”, Natasha explained but you didn’t seem to be too fond of it as you rubbed your cheek. “I’m sorry about your workout”, Natasha apologized to Steve with a slight frown. “I’m sure it wasn’t what you were looking forward to.” Steve shook his head, waving his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t come here for a workout”, he admitted, his cheeks blushing slightly. “Felt like checking in on the little lady”, he explained, feeling rather bashful for admitting to it.

“Really?” Natasha asked in disbelief, her eyes shining with such excitement that it made Steve’s heart clench a bit. “You really came here for her?” She asked for confirmation.

“Yes, absolutely”, he nodded, not able to stop smiling. “I want to get to know her. I want her to have a family”, he said firmly, caressing your head gently. He heard a soft sniffle from Natasha, his eyes traveling to meet her slightly watery ones.

“I’m not crying, it’s the hormones”, she explained hastily but it was quite obvious to everyone that she was crying from his sentiment.

“Shush, mysh- (mouse)”, you hummed, your hand patting her cheek. It was a quite good imitation of what Natasha usually did to you when you were crying. She would hush you and stroke your face and you did your very best to do the same for her. It made her chuckle.

“Thank you, sweetie. I’m okay”, she assured you, kissing your temple before looking back at Steve again.

“And thank you. It means more than you know”, she whispered, patting his bicep.

Chapter 7: Tater tots in town

Chapter Text

You had just been fed your breakfast of cinnamon oats and apple slices which surprisingly enough you seemed to enjoy. Natasha had noticed some improvement in the cleanliness of your mealtimes and she was beyond relieved. She was getting sick and tired of hairy and dusty spoons that she had to pluck from the floor after your fussy eating. Not to mention the fact that no bib in the world was enough to keep your clothes clean. But this morning you had only gotten your face, hands and the tray messy which resulted in an impressively quick clean up and for once you got to watch cartoons in peace in the living room.

You sat on the floor, playing with a stuffed toy as you observed the colorful characters on the screen while Natasha did the dishes, slurping her excessively sweet black coffee every once in a while. You had an exciting day ahead of you and Natasha was hoping and praying from the bottom of her heart that it would go well. The topic of friends and peer support had recently weaved its way into the forefront of Natasha’s mind and she had been racking her brain trying to figure out where to find age appropriate company for you. Sure she could’ve put you into daycare but she wasn’t ready to let you go and there was no real reason why you should’ve been put into kindergarten because Natasha and the rest of the team were more than capable of teaching you how to read and count, plus she was too nervous about letting you out of her sight. She knew it was an issue she needed to work on but she was aggressively overprotective of you when it came to other people. So instead of all these unappealing options Clint had come up with a better one. His kids and Laura were flying to New York to come visit the absent father himself and simultaneously come greet you as well. Even if his kids were a bit older they were kids nonetheless and would surely be good company for you. You could first get accustomed to them and later you could all go to the park to possibly meet other children. Natasha liked the first half of the plan but the second half scared her to death. Everyone’s slimy, snotty, evil kids playing with you? That was Natasha’s worst nightmare.

“Come on, baby we need to go get dressed”, the redhead called from the kitchen as she made her way into your bedroom that had previously been a guest room. Natasha wasn’t going to lie, you barely spent time there because you liked to sleep with mama and she found it nearly impossible to say no to you. For the time being, the room was just a place for your things. Natasha watched you clamber up from your spot on the floor, your tiny feet running straight into Natasha’s leg, hugging it with all your might as you let out a giggle.

“What does this little leech want?” She asked, pretending to try to shake you off.

“Up!” You shouted, your hands trying to reach up for her. You cackled loudly the more Natasha shook her leg.

“You want up?” She questioned, playing her part impeccably well.

“Up! Up! Up!” You giggled, Natasha finally grasping your arms and throwing you in the air, high enough for her to catch you down onto her hip. She bounced you there, smiling widely at your overjoyed laughter that just wouldn’t stop.

“Now, let’s get you dressed. What do you want to wear?” She asked, walking to the drawers where your clothes were.

“Tutu”, you said firmly. Tutu referred to a light turquoise shirt you owned that had a cartoon doggy in the front. Recently, it had been one of your favorite things to wear. For bottoms you chose a pair of rainbow pants that absolutely disagreed with the color scheme the shirt had set for the day.

“Honey, maybe something less colorful for the bottoms?” Natasha suggested gently, sneakily pulling out beige sweats into your line of sight so you would hopefully choose them instead. She never wanted to force you into clothes you didn’t want to wear but she also didn’t want you to look like a hurricane every time you went out so mild persuasion was most times necessary. You studied the options in front of you.

“Orange”, you said, the word so perfectly butchered that it took Natasha a good while to realize what you meant by it. Then you pointed at a pair of bright orange sweats. Natasha shook her head in mild desperation.

“But look how great the beige goes with the turquoise”, Natasha tried, but you shook your head aggressively.

“Orange.” And that was that. You wore a turquoise shirt with neon orange pants, mildly resembling a Tide pod, but Natasha didn’t feel like fighting so she let you wear exactly what you wanted and the longer she stared at the neon sweats that Tony or Clint had no-doubt gifted to you, the more she wished you had worn the rainbow ones. She had to put those away for her own sake because she had never seen pants so ugly. What crowned the awful outfit were the two ninja turtles printed to your behind, and in all honesty Natasha was praying you would poop your pants just so she could change your clothes.

After battling with the toothbrush for ten minutes you were finally ready for the day, Natasha, however, was not. Her hair was a mess, half of her breakfast was still on the table and she was wearing a slip-on nightgown covered by a wool cardigan. The bed she was sitting on was so painfully tempting that she had to stand up so she wouldn’t lay down and stay down. She yanked on the first pair of pants her hands touched and pulled on a white top with a bit of lace on the neckline before throwing the same cardigan back on. Hastily, she slicked her hair back into a frizzy bun and slapped some moisturizer on her face before you were both out the door.

She hoisted you up onto her shoulders as she got into the elevator and pressed the button for the communal living room. You stared at the reflection in the mirror, patting your hands against Natasha’s cheeks, waiting for her to make a funny face you could laugh at. She filled her cheeks with air and when you patted them again it let out a funny noise, similar to the sound of her blowing raspberries into your stomach. You threw your head back, laughing loudly, so naturally Natasha continued making funny sounds for you. The giggles just wouldn’t stop. You reached over her head, trying to peer down at her face from above, Natasha able to feel your chuckles through your whole body. She looked up at you, the momentarily eye contact making you screech in excitement as you pulled back to hide away.

The elevator doors slid open and Natasha walked you into the living room. There were your usual people like Wanda, Steve and Clint who you greeted with enthusiasm, waving your hand at them from Natasha’s shoulders, chanting a repetitive “hi-hi.” But then there were three others who you had never seen in your life. Your hand dropped down from your waving and a frown appeared on your face. Everyone kind of stilled, all eyes on you which was probably not the greatest idea so Natasha swiftly moved to Wanda’s side to distract you, the witch reaching for you so she could seat you on her lap.

While you were distracted by Wanda’s happy smile, Natasha turned to Clint’s kids with the widest of smiles.

“Auntie Nat!” Lila exclaimed, jumping up to go hug her, Nate right behind her. Natasha lifted the preteen into her arms just like she always had, Lila giggling when she let out a groan.

“Someone’s been eating their breakfast cereal”, she noted, adjusting her a bit. Lila just laughed. “What have you been up to besides growing, huh?” The redhead asked in a mild tease, poking her ribs to make her laugh just a little bit more.

“Things”, the girl replied, her smile never faltering.

“Things? How exciting!” She marveled pretentiously, kissing her forehead briefly before she felt a hug around her feet. Natasha set Lila down and picked Nathaniel up instead. “You”, she hummed mysteriously. “You look like you could use some tickles”, she murmured, her fingers attacking his armpits, loud laughter echoing in the living room. “How is my baby-Nate?” She cooed, the boy letting out a vain protest at being called a baby. That was your place. This “Nate” was in your place. You let out a helpless whine, Wanda hushing you immediately.

“It’s okay love, mama will be back soon”, she tried to assure you but you weren’t stupid. Mama was right there having fun with someone else.

“What? Is Coop too cool to give Natty a hug?” Natasha asked teasingly, encouraging the teenager to come greet her properly. He tried to fight the smile on his lips but eventually failed and trudged into Natasha’s arms. She gave him a firm hug, swaying him a bit. Then she pulled back to look at him, her eyes noting how much he had grown as well. Cooper surely didn’t appreciate the way she cupped his cheeks and planted a huge smooch on his forehead. He groaned and wiped it off as he scurried back to sit beside his father where he was safe from kisses. You cried a bit louder, immediately gaining her attention. She rushed to you with a soft smile.

“Shh, milaya (honey), I’m right here”, she whispered, picking you up into her arms to bring you to the Barton kids. “Now, I know you guys are probably wondering who this is”, she started, looking at the kids. “This is my daughter Y/N”, she introduced you with pride, kissing your head as she sat down in an armchair so you could get a bit more comfortable. “I was hoping you guys could get to know each other a bit and maybe become friends. We don’t really have you tater tots around here”, she explained, mostly looking at Nathaniel because he was closest to you in age even if he was three years older. They all seemed curious about you but a bit shy as well. Nathaniel was the first to come closer to you. “She’s quite shy and sometimes sensitive so if she gets scared don’t beat yourselves up for it, okay?” Natasha said, thinking it was better to keep talking to make the situation more comfortable.

“Hi Y/N”, he greeted you. “My name is Nate.” The entire interaction was very awkward but you didn’t seem too opposed to the newcomers. The adults got morning coffees and donuts, kids opting for orange juice instead. There was a lot of talking that took place and eventually the atmosphere became more natural. You played with your toys on the floor, Nate doing his best to be included in your playing. Lila seemed to know how to handle you a bit better since she had experience from growing up with Nathaniel. Cooper was clearly more withdrawn and Natasha could sense the moody teenage hormones from a mile away so she thought it was best to ask a few simple questions to test the waters and if he wasn’t feeling it she would leave him alone.

The late morning progressed quite nicely but you couldn’t say you exactly loved these smaller people who seemed to be keen on playing with your toys. They tried their best to entertain you but you preferred your mother’s company and often sought her out whenever she disappeared from your line of sight. You no longer panicked when you didn’t see her because now you could walk and run, and thus find her on your own. Lila soon gave up on you and pulled out her coloring book and crayons to have something more entertaining to do instead of playing with your toddler toys. But unlike she had thought, that only seemed to gain your attention. There were loads of colors and shapes and the girl could make the white paper into a different color. You forgot about your mama and slumped back down onto the floor, your hand reaching for one of Lila’s markers. She glanced at you but let you continue. When you aimed the hideous green in your grip at her image of a princess she yanked the book away. You let out a whine and you could see the panic fill the older girl’s eyes. She found the least appealing picture in the book and brought it in front of you, hushing you gently.

“Look, it's a fish. It suits perfectly for your green marker”, she explained, Natasha’s head peeking into the living room to make sure you were okay. She smiled softly at the image of Lila adjusting the marker in your grip before returning into the kitchen where the adults were.

You stared at the huge eyes of the fish, planting green squiggly lines in its eyes, or rather all over the paper. It was thrilling, it was like magic to you. The paper changed color wherever you put the stick in your hand on it. You’d never drawn before, never touched any sort of pencil before and it was all so exhilarating. You let out a laugh of excitement, yanking the marker against the paper to bring more color to it. Your work was rather abstract but you didn’t care, all you could focus on was the dark shade of green that you were able to control. It seemed to be your new favorite thing. You couldn’t let go of your marker and refused any other color Lila tried to give you. When your excitement finally died down it was renewed by the need to showcase your newfound talent. You picked up the heavy book, almost toppling over in the process but thankfully Lila was there to keep you upright.

“Mama!” You shouted, running into the kitchen with Lila on your heels, clearly watching over you to the best of her abilities which Natasha appreciated greatly.

“Y/N?” She asked, smiling softly at the gentle thud of your tiny feet.

“Mama, look!” You exclaimed, clearly unable to contain your excitement.

“Woah, did you do that all by yourself?” She asked in shock, knowing you’d never gotten the chance to tap into your artistic side. Quite frankly Natasha hadn’t trusted you enough to not eat your art mediums so she had stayed clear from them altogether. “Did you do that?” She repeated in disbelief, looking at the horrible scribbling over the fish. She glanced at Lila who nodded with a wide smile.

“I do green”, you explained, pointing at all the green on the paper, Natasha chuckling from pure disbelief and joy.

“It’s gorgeous, my love. So beautiful”, she praised softly. “Did you really do that?” She questioned teasingly. “Are you sure Lila didn’t help you?”

“No!” You giggled like it was the funniest thing ever. “Me did!” Natasha set the book on the table, pulling you onto her lap.

“Mommy’s so proud of you! So, so proud!” She assured you, kissing your cheek as you giggled. “You’re so good at coloring”, she praised, loving the glint in your eye at feeling like you had succeeded. She made a mental note to go get you some crayons and paper from the store the next time she went shopping before she grabbed a napkin and started to wipe the green off your cheeks and nose, hoping the possibly poisonous marker hadn’t visited your mouth as well.

In the evening, which came right after your nap, you got to go to the park. Natasha took you there often to get some fresh air for the both of you. She loved the light bustle of the city and the fresh greenery that surrounded the park. You got to run freely in the grass and spend all your extra energy on the playground. You played tag with the kids, excluding Cooper because he was “too cool” for it. Natasha saw that as an opportunity to try to talk to him.

“So, how are you?” Natasha asked brightly, nudging him in the shoulder.

“I’m good”, he replied, Natasha groaning in her mind.

“How’s school, friends?” She tried again, wanting more out of him than vague replies. It was also amazing practice on teenagers even if your teenage years were far, far away. “Come on, Coop. I’m no stranger”, she reminded him.

“I know you’re not”, he chuckled. He liked Natasha, always had. He had known her for as long as he could remember and she had never been anything but welcoming.

“Are you feeling okay? She asked, her initial excitement dulling down a bit, a soft frown taking over her features. “I’m not trying to pry. You’re genuinely starting to worry me here”, she hummed.

“I’m okay, Nat”, he tried to assure but Natasha wasn’t buying it.

“Cooper”, she said with a gentle emphasis. “Don’t lie to me. You can bullsh*t your parents but not me.” He seemed to hesitate for a good while before he opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t tell dad okay? Or mom”, he started, Natasha nodding her head.

“I won’t”, she promised, offering her pinky to him. He linked it with his own, smiling softly.

“I’m really nervous, like anxious”, he revealed. “My stomach hurts all the time and being around people makes it worse”, he explained, Natasha not letting go of his hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Has this been going on for long?” She asked, glancing his way.

“I don’t know, like a year”, he shrugged.

“I know you don’t like it but I think you should tell your mom or dad”, she responded.

“No way! It’s embarrassing”, he groaned.

“Cooper, listen to me. It’s not embarrassing-“

“Yes it is! Even you make me anxious and you never used to do that.” He was clearly frustrated and Natasha felt for him so she eased up a bit.

“How are things at school? Are you able to go there normally?” She questioned, purposely evading the mild disagreement.

“Sometimes”, he replied.

“And other times?” She prompted, continuing to walk the path they were on.

“I get panic attacks”, he admitted, his head hanging low.

“Sweetie”, Natasha started quietly. “I’m really happy you told me and I’ll offer you all the support I can but I’m all the way over here in New York”, she said grimly. “I can’t look out for you, but your parents could, or someone at school.”

“I’m not telling them”, he protested firmly.

“You don’t have to. Not right now but promise me you’ll think about it”, she asked, halting to turn to look at him.

“I promise”, he grumbled, his gaze rising up to meet Natasha’s because that’s how you knew you could trust the other, by holding eye contact. She gave him a lopsided smirk, bringing him closer and planting a kiss in his hair. To her surprise he didn’t whine about how gross it was. Natasha made sure to mention to Clint and Laura that they paid a bit of extra attention to their moody teenager even if he retaliated against it.

“Mommy!” You cried, your little feet running across the grass all the way to mommy.

“What is it, sweetheart?” She asked, looking down at you with a soft smile on her face.

“Tummy does brrr”, you explained, patting your stomach, your beanie almost covering your eyes, your head tilted back dramatically in order to see Natasha’s face. She crouched down before you, fixing your hat so you could see properly, her heart warming at the sight of you clearly having enjoyed yourself.

“That means you’re hungry, baby”, she replied with a soft smile.

“I’m hungry too!” Nate announced as he caught up to you, his cheeks red from running, chest heaving with each labored breath he took. He was followed by Clint.

“I could eat something”, he hummed, shrugging his shoulders as Lila caught up with everyone.

“I’m starving!” She groaned, leaning into her father’s side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“What about you, Coop?” Natasha asked, glancing up at the boy as you held onto her hand, bouncing from excitement.

“I’m always hungry for New York style pizza”, he chuckled.

“There should be a pizzeria right across the street”, Natasha said, lifting you up as she straightened herself upright. She had missed the weight of you in her arms. Nate grinned in victory; he was a true pizza lover, Lila letting out a quiet “yess!”

You were tired and Natasha could tell but you did your very best to stay up and vigil just like everyone else, even if your head did occasionally slump forward as you nearly nodded off, but once the scent of cheesy goodness hit your nose you were wide awake once again, your stomach rumbling impatiently.

“I want my own!” Lila informed immediately. “I’m not sharing with Nate because he likes pineapple!” Nate scowled at that but then smiled, realizing he would get a whole pizza for himself.

“Alright, alright”, Clint gave in before it could turn into a fight. “You think you’re big enough for your own pizza, buddy?” He asked Nate who was practically bouncing at the idea, nodding his head vigorously.

“Own”, you mumbled, pointing at the screen above the counter where the menu was displayed, a large image of a pepperoni pizza in your view.

“You want your own pizza too?” Natasha asked in mild disbelief.

“Own!” You replied, Natasha sighing. She would give in just to make the night more pleasant for everyone.

“What toppings would you like?”

“Chees’!” You cheered happily.

“Anything else?” She asked for confirmation before placing the order.

“Chees’”, you nodded seriously.

“Cheese it is then”, she hummed, turning to the woman behind the cash register. “One Margherita, please.”

Once the orders were placed, the kids found a booth from the very back of the diner next to a window. It was cozy and warm inside and Natasha found herself at peace when she finally sat down on the leather cushion of the seat. You and Nate seemed to get along quite well which gave Natasha a bit more freedom to just sit with her own thoughts. Clint didn’t start a conversation with her. He could sense that Natasha was in need of silence as she rested her chin on her hand and gazed ahead blankly. Lila and Cooper would occasionally giggle and laugh as they goofed around, everyone entertaining themselves while they all waited for the food to arrive.

“Chicken barbecue?” The stocky waiter offered, looking for the owner of the plate.

“That’s for me, thanks”, Cooper said quietly, reaching for the plate. The pizza was huge and all the kids could barely hold their mouths closed as they marveled at the dish.

“Hawaiian?”

“Mine!” Nate exclaimed, his hand shooting up.

“Pepperoni for the little lady”, he said, smiling as he set down the third one in front of Lila. He soon came back with Clint’s Meat lover and your Margherita.

“Auntie Natty, how come you don’t have any pizza?” Lila asked in puzzlement.

“You’ll see soon enough”, she replied as she separated a piece of pizza for you, watching you frown at it.

“What..?” You inquired in confusion, poking the red sauce on the hot pizza. It stuck to your finger.

“It’s tomato sauce, dorogaya (darling)”, she explained. “Taste it, it’s yummy”, she tried but to no avail. There were already tears in your eyes.

“Chees’”, you whimpered.

“There is cheese, look.” She pointed at the nicely broiled cheese on top.

“Only”, you whispered.

“You wanted cheese only?” Natasha asked in bewilderment as you nodded your confirmation. “Honey, I promise it’s delicious. Just have a taste”, she prompted, offering the slice of pizza to you but you shook your head, tears cascading freely down your cheeks.

“Only chees’”, you cried. Natasha didn’t bother to argue. She did what she knew would work and dug a baby bottle from her bag, she then lifted you into Clint’s arms before she scooched out of the booth to go prepare the milk formula.

She returned with a bottle of warm milk. You reached for her immediately, now only fussing mildly as you cried silently. Natasha welcomed you into her arms and you latched on the bottle more than eagerly. She held you against her chest, her other arm grabbing a slice of pizza for herself.

“She’s a bit silly sometimes”, Lila noted, watching you guzzle down the milk. “Pizza is supposed to have sauce”, she reasoned.

“That she is”, Natasha hummed, internally groaning at how good the pizza tasted. The crust was absolutely perfect, the sauce well-seasoned and the cheese wonderfully stretchy. She couldn’t have asked for anything better at the moment, or well, maybe toppings would’ve been nice but they weren’t necessary. “But hey, more pizza for me”, she chuckled, winking Lila’s way, the girl smiling widely before taking a huge bite of her pizza.

“Y/N is still a baby, and on top of that a tired one”, she hummed. “The sauce was just too much for today”, she explained, looking down at your relaxed features, removing the bottle from your lips. It didn’t come to anyone as a surprise that you fell asleep shortly after the milk had been consumed completely, the rest of the family enjoying their pizzas in the small corner of the diner that was filled with warmth and laughter.

Chapter 8: Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird

Chapter Text

You were three years old and to Natasha’s disappointment and simultaneous relief almost finished with your weaning process. You had started to like cucumbers and carrots. You liked fruits and bread as well, but pasta you couldn’t stand for some reason. Any form of macaroni put in front of you would either end up on the floor or squished in your fists. Rice you ate but it was always messy. You had learned a plethora of new skills and were becoming advanced in counting and recognizing letters and shapes. You were a wild little rascal and loved running around the compound. You also loved climbing anywhere you possibly could. Steve was one of your favorites. He often stood still like a tree, allowing you to use his arm for support as your feet walked up his leg. He carried you around on his shoulders and whenever Natasha wasn’t around he would throw you up in the air so high you thought you would never come down. He always caught you and Natasha knew that, trusted that, but the idea of him missing that catch was something she wasn’t willing to even think about, which is why she had forbidden it. Wanda was allowed to float you around because Natasha knew that her powers were unlikely to malfunction or get out of control since the witch had become so much more practiced with them, but of course you had a height limit you weren’t allowed to cross. Another thing you liked to do with Wanda was to play guessing games where she used her telepathy to read your mind. She couldn’t understand why you wanted your mind to be read so badly but if it made you happy she didn’t mind.

“Guess now!” You exclaimed, bouncing on Wanda’s lap. “Guess!”

“Hmm, let me see”, she wiggled her fingers for show, pretending to dig through your mind, even though she already knew the answer. “Is it a unicorn with shoes on?” You giggled loudly, nodding your head.

“It’s so cute!” You shouted. “Guess again!”

“Huh, no definitely not a crocodile with a granny hat, no. Not that one either. Nope. Is it the yellow teletubby?” She questioned. You shook your head aggressively. “Is it… mommy?”

“Noo!”

“She’s got red hair”, Wanda mumbled, feigning her thinking face. “Who else has red hair? …me?” She raised her brows at you questioningly.

“Yes! Wanwan!” You screeched, clapping your hands in pleasure.

“You know what, baby? I think it’s time for us to go get ready for bed, yeah?” She suggested softly, knowing it was nearing eight o’clock and Natasha was probably done with her report by now.

“No! One more!” You whined.

“Okay, one more. But just this one. Make it good.” She was notorious for caving in when it came to you, and Natasha had multiple times told her not to allow you to have her wrapped around your finger but Wanda couldn’t resist you.

“Go”, you said, your next thought ready in your mind, but instead of the colorful snake you had thought about for a split second, Wanda found something else, something much darker, literally. She fell into a memory and she knew she should’ve pulled away and not disrespect you like that but she knew from the energy around her that it wasn’t from your new home, it was from the Red Room and most likely something you no longer truly remembered. It was dark around you and Wanda could feel the panic settle in your chest. There was no one else around and you were absolutely terrified. You wanted your mother, you were hungry and scared. You cried hard, continuing to scream your lungs out even though a bright screen was lit above you. It played cartoons, lots and lots of cartoons. Wanda could sense that something about them was wrong, the energy was off, suspicious. She thought over everything she knew about the Red Room, a sense of disturbance settling over her. And then it clicked for her. Mind control. Psychological conditioning. You kept on crying. You cried for a long while but eventually quietened down at the sight of a white, fluffy bunny. Wanda pulled out of your mind, her blank face forming into a slight smile, trying her best to make it convincing for you.

“Rainbow snake”, she said quietly, deep in thought. She needed to talk with Natasha as soon as possible. You shook your head. Wanda knew it was the white bunny but she didn’t dare say it.

“Guess”, you said, sounding a little disheartened. The witch hesitated. Your mind was screaming white bunny and she had no choice but to say it.

“Bunny”, she whispered, watching how your lower lip wobbled, eyes teary. You didn’t know why it made you sad. You couldn’t remember, but you felt scared, alone.

“Mama”, you whimpered, wiping your eyes slowly, looking down at your lap where your legs were bent in a kneeling position that toddlers often preferred, your feet opening slightly to the sides.

“Yes, let’s go find mama”, Wanda said hastily, picking you off the floor, terrified of you getting an outburst she couldn’t calm you down from. You sniffled in her arms, clammy hands playing with her orange locks.

“Mama”, you spluttered quietly, sounding a lot like you had just regressed by two whole years. Wanda sped down the halls all the way to your apartment, trying to make it seem at least a little bit like she wasn’t panicking herself.

“Mama? Is mama here?” Wanda shouted from the front door the second she had stepped inside, some shuffling coming from Natasha’s office.

“Mama!” You cried out as well, a head of red hair appearing in the living room in an instant.

“Hi, baby!” She cooed, hurrying over to you, arms already reaching for your wiggling body. You let out another cry, crawling closer to hide your face in her neck. Your hands gripped the skin of her neck and chest. “What happened?” Natasha asked, a worried frown on her face as she eyed Wanda carefully.

“I’m not sure. She remembered something”, the brunette said. “I’ll explain it all later once she’s in bed”, she assured her.

“So no one got hurt?”, Natasha mumbled to herself, trying to calm herself down as she bounced you in her arms. “Thank you for watching her.” She kissed your head, breathing you in. “I really needed some time off. Thank you, Wanda”, she whispered quietly over your sobs, leaning closer and pressing her lips to the younger woman’s forehead. The kiss was brief and very motherly, Wanda’s mind wandering off immediately. Oh, how she missed her mother, missed her old life. She would never admit it but Natasha felt like a big sister to her. Someone who looked out for her, at least sometimes. Someone she could lean on and vice versa. “Wait here while I put her to bed. I’ll be right back”, she said before walking into your bedroom.

“Shh, baby, you’re safe”, she cooed quietly, holding you firmly as you squirmed against her, your teary face pressing into her neck as you tugged on her hair. She sat down on your bed so you could sit on her lap. “Shh, look at me, honey, look at me”, she tried softly, pulling back a bit and cupping your face. “Deep breaths for me, baby. Deep breaths”, she instructed, inhaling deeply, her thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks. You blinked your huge eyes open, frowning at Natasha in sorrow. ”There you go. Can you take one more big breath for mommy?” She asked, keeping her voice low and comforting. You sucked in a ragged breath that was rather rushed and shallow but it was good enough for Natasha.

“Good girl, just like that. Look at mama”, she continued soothing you as you coughed loudly. “Can you tell me how you feel?” She asked, bouncing you softly on her knee.

“Scared”, you whined, trying to go back in for a hug.

“What makes you scared?”

“Dark.”

“Baby, we’re not in the dark”, she noted, looking around the bedroom that was fully illuminated. You pouted up at her, looking around, calming down visibly as you realized that it in fact wasn’t dark around you. Natasha knew you had distant memories from the Red Room and she was desperately wishing to maybe someday get something out of you that could explain your experience but your developing brain would most likely leave those distant memories into oblivion and maybe that really was for the best.

“But… but”, you spluttered, bringing your forefinger to your mouth for you to suck on.

“You’re safe. It’s just you and mama”, she explained with a smile to express the safety and comfort that the space should bring you. She observed your blank expression as you studied the room around you and then you looked back at her, mirroring her smile, albeit a bit hesitantly. “Look at that smile”, she cooed, tickling you under the chin. Your smile widened and you crawled closer to her so you could reach her face.

“Mama”, you sighed, nuzzling your face into hers, your tiny arms going around Natasha’s neck in a hug. “I want cuddles!” You exclaimed, pulling back and pressing your nose to hers. You giggled at the way she scrunched it, your attention shifting and you went to push up her nose, laughing loudly at the funny face she made.

“It’s bedtime for baby”, she reminded you softly.

“No, it’s cuddle time!” You retorted with a firm frown.

“You will get bedtime cuddles. Do you also want a lullaby?”

“Lullaby! And kisses, lots”, you shouted, still not very good at controlling your volume. “Story!”

“Baby, you have to choose. You can’t have everything”, she said quietly, starting to pull up your long sleeve shirt to change you into your pajamas.

“And then we can- we play”, you blabbered, sounding rather confident in your plan. Natasha set you on the floor, your little legs immediately busy running.

“Don’t you dare run away!” Natasha laughed, grasping you by the back of your pants, yanking you up into her arms. She set you down onto her shoulders.

“Hold on to mama’s head”, she instructed, placing your hands on her forehead as she navigated through the bedroom to your closet drawer, pulling out a fresh pair of underwear and a nightgown. You liked to sleep in a comfortable dress and the light blue one Natasha took out was your favorite because of how pretty it was.

“Blue!” You noted happily as Natasha moved to the bed and set the clothes down onto your sheets. “Look, mama, I’m flying”, you said, lifting your hands off her head and spreading them to your sides. Natasha grabbed you and threw you over her head onto the bed.

“Enough flying for the night”, she mumbled, tickling you from under your armpits as you wiggled on your bed, still clad in your pants and socks. “Legs up!” She commanded, just like she did every night and your legs shot up so she could easily tug off your pants and socks. You loved it and you especially loved kicking your legs to help her get them off. You laughed in excitement, clapping your hands.

“Stinky baby!” You screeched because you knew it was time for a quick bath and Natasha just loved being dramatic about it. It was your favorite part of bedtime. She grabbed you by the arms and lifted you up and away from her body, holding you at an arm’s length –something she had done quite a lot when you were an infant and covered in poop or vomit.

“Stinker incoming”, she hollered, rushing to the bathroom as you cackled, dangling in the air. She set you down inside the tub and hosed you down with the shower head. You scrubbed your eyes clean, washing your body even though Natasha was doing most of the work. You were towel dried and brought back to the bed where you got to step through the leg holes in your panties and then you lifted your arms up and allowed Natasha to slide the nightgown on you. She settled down at the head of the bed, waiting for you to express what you wanted for the night. You walked to mama and sank into her chest. Cuddles were definitely something you wanted. You breathed in her scent, noticing a yawn stretch your lips. Huh, maybe you really were tired.

“Play”, you mumbled, ever so determined to have your fun but she was so comfortable. You nuzzled closer, tugging on her shirt.

Natasha wasn’t sure about continuing breast feeding you for so long but after her doctor assured her that it was more than okay as long as it worked for both mother and baby, she continued to do it whenever you asked for it. She had noticed you forget about it way more often than before but scares like the one from that day usually affected it and you wanted that specific kind of comfort that had gotten you through the worst of your trauma.

“Hold on, mama’s gonna take her shirt off”, she whispered, pulling you back gently, her fingertips caressing your chubby cheeks and chin. You were halfway asleep, swaying slightly as you tried to force your eyes open. Natasha lifted you off her lap and turned you sideways into a lying position, bringing you to her chest. Your eyes fluttered shut and you opened your mouth, pressing it to Natasha’s warm breast, automatically starting to suckle. “Baby, you’re halfway asleep”, she hummed, brushing your hair with her fingers. You were doing your best to fight back the inevitable sleep that was going to overtake you by occasionally flinching yourself awake. “Shh, mama’s right here and mama’s gonna stay right here. You’re safe.” You huffed quietly, your hand grasping the flesh as you whined a little, moving your hand to reach up for mama. Natasha offered her finger for you to hold and you quietened immediately, relaxing into her embrace as you gripped mama’s hand.

“Hush little baby don’t say a word, mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird”, Natasha started quietly, rocking you in her arms. She studied your resting features, admiring your long eyelashes, your brows, your plump cheeks and lips wrapped around her flushed nipple. ”If that mockingbird don’t sing, mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring. If that diamond ring turns brass, mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass”

She felt the tears long before they clouded her vision, her breathing turning shallow as she tried to keep herself calm for you. Thankfully you were already half-unconscious and didn’t notice a thing. Natasha couldn’t quite express the ache inside her. She was so angry, so frustrated, so jealous that she never got to have it. She never got to fall asleep in her mother’s arms, instead she got cuffs around her wrists and a lumpy mattress. And no matter how much she tried not to feel it, the tears dripped onto your nightgown, leaving dark blue splotches behind but you were already asleep, not at all aware of the mood shift Natasha was going through.

She felt the incoming sobs constrict her chest, her breath catching in her throat. She pulled you off of her, slipping her breast back into her bra as she cradled you carefully in her arms, setting you down on the bed. The redhead pulled up the covers from the foot of the bed, tucking you in tightly, her forefinger wiping your mouth clean before she crouched over you and placed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, Y/N, good night”, she whispered, not able to resist the urge to kiss you again. “Mama’s little angel”. She hummed, placing yet another kiss on your cheek. She backed away from your bed, eyes glued to your chest that rose and fell steadily. Natasha already knew that she would return once Wanda was gone. The redhead leaned against the side of the door, reluctant to let you out of her sight but eventually after a heavy sigh, she wiped her tears away and shut the door behind her after she stepped into the hall. She left the lights on in your bedroom just in case you would wake up. Then she made her way into the living room where Wanda was reading some book that she had found from somewhere. Most of the stuff in the living room was all over the place because you took a lot of time and energy from Natasha and she just couldn’t be bothered to pick after you and herself all the time.

“She go down easy?” Wanda inquired, lifting her gaze up from the paperback.

“Yeah. She was exhausted”, Natasha mumbled, coming beside her and sitting down.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked quietly, noticing the redness of her eyes and the distant look on her face.

“Oh, yeah”, the redhead sighed, bringing her legs up to her chest as she leaned her elbow to the backrest of the couch. “She’s just a lot sometimes. And she makes me think about my own childhood”, she explained, staring ahead at the rain that whipped into the window glass.

“You can talk to me if you ever feel like it”, Wanda offered, placing her hand on Natasha’s arm. “You don’t have to be alone in this “, she said with a soft smile, her thumb brushing over her bicep.

“I know, hon. Thank you for the support”, Natasha answered as if on autopilot before she realized to slow down her mind. She stayed silent for a second. “I wish I knew what they did to her. They probably start the pain conditioning young…” She didn’t want to imagine it, but she couldn’t force her mind to stop. “What if they…” Her voice died in her throat.

“What?” Wanda prompted softly, sensing Natasha’s distress consume the energy of the living room.

“Touched her… me?” She whispered so quietly, nearly imperceptible. Wanda knew what she meant and was truly horrified by the thought. “I know they touched me but I don’t know how young”, she added, gulping quietly as she tried to keep her emotions in check. She had never said that to anyone out loud and she trusted Wanda enough as a woman to understand a fraction of her pain. Her eyes bore into Wanda’s warm green ones, both women noting the sheen in the others’ eye.

“Do- Do you want me to… look?” The strawberry blonde woman asked quietly, clearly timid about suggesting something so drastic. Natasha paused, evidently contemplating it.

“Not with me. I don’t need to know. I don’t want to know, but her… I need to know”, she mused out loud. “I need to know that their end wasn’t too merciful. I need to know that I did enough to make them hurt”, she said in a low voice, gritting her teeth.

“Natasha…” Wanda sighed, sounding pitiful, like she was trying to placate the anger that was bubbling inside of the redhead.

“I wish I could shred his skin, and dig out his organs. I wanna make him suffer for all that he did”, she continued, Wanda squeezing her arm again to gain her attention.

“That wouldn’t make you feel any better”, Wanda said. “And it wouldn’t make you better than him.”

“I don’t care. I could be the worst person in the world. I don’t give a f*ck. If he hurt her…”

“Shh, Natasha, look at me”, the witch hushed her, grasping both Natasha’s hands. “It’s not worth it. He’s dead. What’s done is done”, she reasoned. “I shouldn’t look inside her head. It’ll ruin you and eventually it’ll ruin her. You don’t need to know.”

“No, I do, Wanda. I need to know”, Natasha said hastily.

“Tell me, what good would it do?” Wanda countered, clearly able to detect the desperation in Natasha’s demeanor. “Would you love her less? Would you treat her differently?”

“No! God, no, I would never”, she hissed, seeming mildly appalled.

“I know you like to think that, but I’m not so sure. Subconsciously it’ll always have an effect on you”, Wanda said firmly. Her face was stoic and unforgiving. Your future and childhood were at stake and Natasha wasn’t in a place to make that decision for you. The witch’s offer had been for Natasha, not for you. She wouldn’t want to violate your mind like that. Young as you were, you still deserved to be treated with respect and have your privacy, especially in a matter so personal and vulnerable. “In the best case scenario she has no clue and will never remember or know and can grow up in peace. And if she has, then you will have to carry the weight of it. You don’t need that, Natasha”, Wanda explained, her thumbs swiping softly over the backs of her hands. “You’ve been hurt enough as it is.”

“I can take it”, she mumbled.

“I know you can but it’s not about that”, Wanda tried, inwardly cursing the redhead’s stubbornness.

“What did you see in her memory?” Natasha asked, ever so determined to get some sort of information on the matter.

“Just darkness. I felt cold and scared, but there was no pain. There was a screen above me and it had a white bunny hopping”, she explained, remembering the details vividly. “I don’t know if it’s just because she’s a mere baby but there was very little pain in her mind. A couple of rough nudges maybe. But when I entered your mind I was flooded with pain, so much so that it almost made me lose focus. Natasha I know your pain because I’ve felt it. Y/N’s okay. Babies are sensitive and I think I would’ve been able to tell without even digging for anything if there was something so painful and terrifying inside her mind”, Wanda said softly, an apologetic frown on her face. She knew she had violated Natasha in a terrible manner back during Ultron and even though she said she had forgiven her, Wanda was still wary about the subject. Natasha sighed heavily, sinking into the couch as she stared ahead into the ceiling above her.

“She’s okay, right?” She whispered. “She’s safe.” Natasha shut her eyes, tears spilling from the sides and into her hair. “Nobody’s touched her”, she sobbed, covering her face with her hands to hide her face from Wanda.

“She’s okay, Natasha. You’ve got her. She couldn’t be any more safe. It’s not possible”, she chuckled quietly, inching closer to the other woman. She grasped her hands, pulling them away from her face, Natasha’s reddened eyes staring back at her.

“You’re a good mother, Natasha”, she mumbled with a soft smile. “Y/N’s in great hands”, she assured her, holding on to her hands and bringing them down to her lap. “I really want to hug you right now”, Wanda said in a teasing tone, Natasha rolling her eyes.

“You’re not getting one”, Natasha scoffed in defense.

“Please?” The younger woman pleaded, batting her eyelashes. “You need comfort.”

“I’m okay”, Natasha said in denial.

“I know you are”, Wanda quipped, not too keen on arguing. “Just a tiny hug to make you feel better”, she pestered, sensing from the tug of the corner of Natasha’s mouth that she was giving in.

“Alright, you get five seconds”, Natasha sighed, opening her arms for the witch who snuggled against her chest, her arms holding the redhead tightly. She couldn’t lie. It did feel good. And she was more than thankful for Wanda’s support. She just wasn’t sure how to express it. Maybe the hug was enough for now. “Thank you again for tonight”, she mumbled into her hair.

“Of course. It was my pleasure”, Wanda hummed, giving Natasha an extra squeeze before letting go. The girl really was a hugger.

Once she was gone, Natasha tiptoed back into your room, climbing to the edge of the bed and pulling the covers over herself. You were huffing and puffing quietly in the sheets, your arms spread on the mattress as you lay on your back. She inched as close as she dared without possibly waking you up, her lips pressing to your cheek.

“And if that horse and cart fall down, you’ll still be the prettiest baby in town”, she sang the final line of the lullaby in a quiet whisper, trying not to smile like an idiot as she smelled your head again. She was so in love with you, so in awe of the tiny being that you were. “Good night, my stinkypants.”

She fell asleep to the sounds of your breathing, your little fist wrapped around her index finger.

Chapter 9: Sugar, spice and everything nice

Chapter Text

“Mommyyy!” You whined angrily, limping behind her, trying to drag her back by the hand you were holding. “Máma!” You screeched, on the verge of tears. You were exhausted and Natasha was still dragging you through the department store after you had expressed multiple times that you wanted to leave. You were so tired and you wanted kisses and cuddles and a huge nap, maybe even food, but you were miles away from home and mama was in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Shh, baby, please don’t yell”, Natasha tried softly, dragging you along as you tripped over your feet time and time again.

“Mamaa!” You wailed, now sobbing full force, trying to make her stop walking. Your words became incoherent and blended in with your cries, Natasha finally stopping. You didn’t have your carriage with you for some reason that you weren’t able to understand. She crouched down in front of you, wiping your tears with her thumbs.

“What is it, sweetheart?” She asked, pulling you closer to her body but she no longer needed your answer when your fists clung to her shirt and you leaned close to her chest. “Is my angel tired?” She asked quietly, hands caressing your body as you squirmed into her embrace. You nodded your head, sniffling.

“Nap”, you whimpered, feeling your mama lift you up into her arms, standing straight. Your slightly shorter sleeping hours from the night before usually resulted in excessive napping and that day seemed to be one of those days.

“We can’t do that yet, honey”, she explained, wincing at the cry you let out. “Shh, love, mommy has a couple more things to get. Then we’ll go home, yeah?” She tried to gain your attention.

“Home, now!” You bellowed, wiggling in her arms, now trying to get down, but Natasha knew if she let you down you would never get out of the flour aisle.

“Y/N, look at mama.” You held in your cries, blinking to see through your tears. “Good, just like that”, she praised, patting your back in emphasis. “Mama promises that we’ll take the biggest nap when we get home okay? Just a little while longer, okay?” She asked hopefully, smiling at you. She could tell you didn’t like it but you nodded your head regardless. “Is baby hungry?” She continued, tickling your stomach a bit but you just shook your head, bringing your thumb to your lips. Natasha dug out a pacifier from her bag, replacing your finger with the rubber, her lips pressing on the other end in a brief kiss. The pacifier bobbed in your mouth as you sucked on it fervently, calming down at the bit of comfort you had received. She didn’t put you down again but instead moved you to sit on her hip, feeling comforted herself when you relaxed into her hold, resting your head on her shoulder, fist still gripping her shirt.

“I love you, baby. Just a tiny bit longer. Mama needs to grab a couple more ingredients”, she hummed, kissing your forehead, trying to assure you that soon you would get your rest. Your heavy eyelids blinked slowly. You could smell mama’s familiar perfume and her warm skin, your mouth easing off the pacifier a little, your hand went limp on Natasha’s chest and you were dead weight in her arms but you couldn’t quite fall asleep in the midst of the bustle of the grocery store. Ten minutes later you started crying again from frustration, pressing your face into mama’s shoulder, wiping snot and tears into her shirt, the pacifier falling to the floor.

Natasha herself was getting tired as well. It wasn’t easy taking care of you while also shopping and it proved to be even more difficult the grumpier you got. Your pained face made her want to give up and go home, but instead she grabbed the pacifier off the floor and skidded through the aisles to collect butter sticks and chocolate chips, leaving the cart behind to get it over with quicker. After she had managed to get herself through the checkout, accompanied by your loud wails, she dangled a crying you to her black Corvette, and loaded everything inside. You had your baby seat at the back but Natasha took you to the front, sitting on the passenger seat with you in her arms. You noted the calmness of the car and sat on Natasha’s lap in mild confusion. It amused her how nuanced of a child you were and how easily you could go from zero to hundred and back down to zero in the span of just a few minutes. She hummed a laugh, combing her fingers through your hair, a smile spreading on her face as you studied your surroundings, deeming the place comfortable enough for a nap. You tugged her down for a kiss, laughing softly at the smile on mama’s face. She peppered your entire face with kisses until it started to tickle so much that all you could do was giggle loudly. You snuggled into her chest, your face resting on her soft breast that truly was the best pillow in the world. Her hand continued to stroke your hair and back, her calming scent allowing you to relax completely. You fell asleep in an instant, Natasha holding you for a while to ensure that you were in a deep enough slumber for her to move you into your seat so she could drive back home.

The redhead sighed from relief at seeing you rest, your quiet breaths puffing against her. She loved you so much. At times like these, she just couldn’t understand how there could be so much love in her. She had always thought she was disgusting and vile, incapable of anything good, yet there you were, a bundle of pure goodness snoozing in the safety of her arms. She herself had raised you to be the sweet little girl you were. She had raised you to not have a single bad bone in your body and she was certain that in some ways she had succeeded. She held you to her chest, changing your position to the one she used to nurse you in. Her eyes welled up with tears that she forcibly blinked away. She was tired of being emotional. She had quit her hormone therapy a while ago and she was starting to feel like blaming the hormones had been a big lie. You had grown so much and it felt like it had been just yesterday when she couldn’t get you to shut up in the safe house in Russia and she couldn’t quite grasp it. She simply stared at your peaceful form as you lay in her arms. Nothing in her life had ever made her feel as emotional as you did.

•••

“Okay, baby, now put the flour in the bowl”, Wanda instructed as you stood on a stool behind the kitchen island, fully recharged, doing your very best to do as told. You tilted the cup, watching how the flour puffed up a bit when it hit the bottom of the bowl. You turned to Wanda to see if you did a good job, the rest of the flour left in the cup sprinkling all over you and the table, the witch just huffing a laugh. She had expected a mess anyway. “Be careful, there’s still flour in there. You need to put all of it into the bowl”, she said softly as you peered into the measuring cup, noting that it did in fact still have flour inside. Clumsily you threw the whole measure into the glass bowl, Wanda shaking her head hopelessly behind you where you couldn’t see her. You grabbed the measure again.

“Let’s not throw things, okay?” She asked, prying the cup out of your iron tight grip. You screeched a bit impatiently but let her take it from you.

“Egg!” You exclaimed, wanting to crack them like you’d seen mama do multiple times before. You were dying to attempt it yourself.

“Not yet. We need to put baking soda into the flour”, she said, offering you a teaspoon. You took it and plunged it inside the baking soda container, pulling out a heaping spoonful of the white powder. “Maybe a little less. Shake it.” You shook all of it off the spoon. Baking was definitely a challenging task with you. Wanda guided your spoon back into the powder and got the correct amount out, emptying it into the bowl.

“Mixin’ time!” You squealed, grabbing the big wooden spoon and starting to poke the flour mixture. You hadn’t really gotten the handle of the mixing movement yet, your fine motor skills not refined enough. Scarlet wisps wrapped around the handle of the spoon, helping you mix the flour, although half of it still spilled over the edges. Wanda pulled the bowl away from you so you wouldn’t create a bigger mess and gave you a clean bowl and two eggs.

“Crack the eggs into the bowl”, she instructed, her magic holding the eggs in the air so you wouldn’t drop them. Your small hand wrapped around the other egg, your fist glowing red as you brought it to the edge of the bowl, Wanda’s powers assisting you to use the correct amount of pressure. You giggled when the shell cracked, the egg opening itself to let the yolk out. Without Wanda’s powers the eggs would’ve been on the floor before she had even placed them in front of you. No matter how careful she was though, the second egg you just decided to throw across the room, giggling when it smashed into the cupboard door and stained it yellow.

“Did you just throw it?” Wanda asked in amusem*nt. She had expected this exact kind of behavior from you. You were a toddler after all and she knew not to get mad at you for the things you couldn’t help.

“Yup”, you giggled.

“Honey, you know you have to clean that up, right?” She asked, offering you a damp rag.

“No”, you shook your head sternly, a slight pout on your lips.

“Baby, our actions have consequences. You made a mess so you clean the mess”, Wanda explained to you, lifting you off the chair and bringing you to the sticky door. You cleaned it off as best as you could with the wet rag Wanda gave you but she ultimately had to do a little touching up after you. Not that it was really about cleaning but more so about teaching you a lesson.

After the little incident you got to mix up the eggs and melted butter while Wanda added the rest of the ingredients. Then you watched as she whisked it all up to form a nice golden brown dough. You got to add in the chocolate chips and then it was time to put the oven on while the dough cooled in the fridge.

“How’s it going?” A deep voice asked from the living room, Steve nearing you with a wide smile on his face.

“Cookies!” You answered loudly, Steve huffing a laugh at the flour that decorated your face. You climbed off the chair, Wanda absentmindedly helping you down with her magic. “We put dough in fregator!” You explained, sprinting to him and grabbing his hand immediately.

“Refrigerator, honey”, Wanda corrected you from the kitchen, as you continued to climb up Steve’s leg. He pulled you off like you weighed nothing, because you did, and hoisted you up onto his shoulders. You laughed in excitement, kicking your legs a bit from pure happiness.

“Wada! Look!” You screamed, holding on to Steve’s hands. He was so tall, so tall you could see the entire world from up there.

“Be careful, baby, so you don’t fall”, Wanda said with a hint of worry in her voice even though she knew Steve was more than reliable. He would never let you fall. Steve bounced you a bit on his shoulders, your entire body jiggling as you laughed loudly, giggling and screeching, holding onto his jaw with your little hands. You two played for quite a while, the blond allowing you to climb all over him, letting you dangle from his arm or leg, whatever your silly little brain came up with. He was holding you upside down by your ankle when Natasha entered the living room, drawn in by your overjoyed laughter, a wide grin on her face once she finally spotted you upside down, all your clothes riding up your body, hair a wild mess as you tried to reach up to your foot that Steve was holding. Natasha snuck around the couches to the other side as you tried to reach for Steve again and when your abs finally gave in and you let yourself dangle limply in his hold Natasha’s upside down face appeared in front of you.

“Mama!” You screamed in excitement, immediately reaching for her, not minding at all that you were still in the air, upside down. Steve let go once you were safely in her hold, your face buried in her stomach, legs hanging over her shoulders as you laughed as loudly as you possibly could. “Let- go!” You cackled, kicking your legs. She flipped you around, sitting down on the couch behind her so you could sit comfortably on her lap. She kissed your forehead, cheeks and hair, your happy gurgles making her want to go on and on and on. You squirmed in her hold, her lips tickling you so much you couldn’t breathe.

“Who’s my baby?” Natasha asked, holding you closer to her body. “Who’s the babiest baby in the world?” She cooed, littering your face with kisses. You pushed her face away, still unable to stop laughing, and when she finally stilled enough, you cupped her cheeks pressing your puckered lips to hers, letting out a loud ‘muah’. You pressed another kiss to her mouth, your huge eyes staring up at Natasha’s. You kissed again, and again, giggling at each tickling kiss you got.

“I love mama!” You said firmly, squishing her cheeks.

“I love you more, my darling one”, she whispered with a soft smile, her heart aching at the pure happiness she was feeling. “I love you so much.”

“I love!” You shouted, pressing your face into hers. Natasha just gathered you in her arms, standing up from the couch, arms hugging you tightly.

“We’ve been playing for a while now and Wanda and her made the cookie dough”, Steve told her, smiling fondly.

“That sounds so fun. Was it fun, baby?” She asked you in excitement, patting your bum as you nodded your head.

“She’s one lively toddler. Never runs out of energy”, Steve noted, watching Natasha shake her head.

“Oh, you should have seen her this morning. Miss Crankypants”, Natasha grumbled playfully as she bounced you a bit, looking at you smile endearingly.

“This little angel? I don’t think so”, he countered teasingly, tickling your cheek as you turned around to look at him.

“I promise the entire store probably thought I was the worst mother ever”, she bemoaned halfheartedly, but there was just a hint of insecurity in her words that pushed through.

“Come on, that’s not true. Everyone knows toddlers are sometimes impossible”, he shrugged, a warm smile on his face. “You’re an amazing mother, Natasha”, he added solemnly, making sure she understood that he was being genuine. He had a tendency to do that.

“Thank you”, she whispered softly, sensing the emotions whirring inside her mind and body. She was insecure about being a mother. She never had one and she sure as hell never thought she was cut out to be one. But hearing people refer to her as a mother and tell her she was at it really got to her.

“I mean it, Natasha”, he repeated, as if sensing her inner quarrel about the topic. She nodded, those green eyes boring into his, holding so much love and gratitude. Neither of them said anything, however, you on the other hand never ran out of things to say.

“Mama! We bake cookies!” You reminded everyone, Natasha already more than aware of that, judging by the way she was dusting flour off your pants.

“I know, honey. Let’s go find, Wanwan”, she hummed, turning towards the kitchen area as you wiggled your legs in excitement. She set you down and watched how you ran to Wanda who was cleaning in the kitchen. She set her stuff down and crouched to the floor to welcome you in her arms. She hugged you to her chest, lifting you up into her embrace so she could set you down to stand on the chair that you had used before. She had already prepared the baking trays for you, the bowl of dough waiting to be scooped into little balls.

“Here, sweetie. You grab the spoon and scoop a bit of the dough”, Wanda instructed as Natasha leaned against the kitchen island, more than intrigued about observing your work. You did as Wanda had done, scooping an enormous glob of dough into your hand, smushing it between your palms. Natasha hid her laughter behind her arm as she watched Wanda take a deep breath before showing you how it was done again. Natasha had to praise Wanda for the infinite amount of patience she had with you. Sometimes not even Natasha herself had that much lenience and kindness in her to constantly forgive for your mistakes.

“It’s big ball”, you said in satisfaction, patting the oversized cookie as you sucked on your sweet, chocolatey finger.

“Honey, you can’t put your hands in your mouth when baking”, Natasha noted, pulling your arm back a little.

“Wada did it too!” You cried in protest, Natasha shooting a threatening look at Wanda who was frowning in apology. “It’s yummy”, you noted, bringing your entire fist to your mouth. By the time you were finished with the dough and the cookies were ready to be put in the oven, you were covered in dough. It was in your hair, on your face, stained in your clothes. Some of it was even on the floor.

“Come here, you stinky baby. We are gonna go take a bath while Wanda bakes the cookies”, Natasha said, chuckling softly at the way you were eating the dough off your hands. She hoisted you up into her arms and you made your way to your apartment. She tugged off your clothes and let you run around the apartment naked as she put the clothes and some of her own clothes into the washing machine. You had almost too much energy and she could tell that by the way you were screaming alone in the living room, saying something about ponies and race cars.

As the bath was filling with water, Natasha pulled off her own clothes and threw them in the hamper. Might as well be sustainable and bathe herself with the same water. She had a day off and she could use a relaxing bath, although with you it was probably going to be far from relaxing. She poured some soap into the water, sloshing it around a bit to even it out as the bubbles started forming. She could clearly hear your loud running steps as you returned into the bathroom to see what your mama was doing. You ran straight into her leg, your bottom thudding to the warm carpet. Natasha was expecting a loud cry and tears but you just giggled, your hands reaching up for her. She couldn’t help but to shake her head as she crouched down to pick you up. She placed you on her hip as she climbed inside the bath, seating you both down into the warm water.

She gave you a rubber ducky and watched you chuck it across the bath, the toy bouncing off her head. You both paused just staring at each other in mild confusion until you laughed mischievously. Natasha’s lips were a harsh line but she couldn’t hold her stoic demeanor for long. She was definitely going soft.

“Don’t throw things at people”, she said in a much less stern scolding than she had intended. “It can be dangerous”, she explained as you fished the ducky back into your arms. You puckered your lips in a giant pout, grabby hands reaching for her. She came closer to you, allowing you to press a kiss to her lips.

“Sorry”, you mumbled, sounding rather indifferent but it was good enough for Natasha.

“You’re forgiven, baby”, she hummed, her thumb stroking your chubby arm. You continued to splash around with the toy as Natasha turned to grab a bathing sponge and some of your baby body wash. It wasn’t scented and she had specifically bought it for your sensitive baby skin. It made bubbles and that was all that mattered to you. The foamy sponge made contact with your shoulder but you were already so used to it that you just continued to play, inching a bit closer because her touch felt nice as you sat there in the few inches of water, splashing the ducky around.

She scrubbed your body gently from everywhere, making sure all the dough was off your face and hands. Your hair she didn’t dare to touch simply because she hadn’t quite figured out what to do with it yet and she had just styled it out of your face before sending you to go bake with Wanda. The ties still held your hair together so Natasha deemed it good enough. You lost interest in the yellow squeaky toy, your finger automatically coming up to your mouth for you to chew on. You cringed at the taste, spluttering violently as you tried to get the taste off your tongue. Because it was a mild soap the taste wasn’t strong but it wasn’t great either.

“Angel, what have I told you about soap?” Natasha asked, hoisting you to her end, turning to the side a bit so she could open the faucet and flush your mouth. You washed your tongue vigorously, Natasha trying not to giggle. God, you were painfully adorable.

“Tastes bad”, you spat, making disgusted sounds, taking another handful of water from Natasha for you to spurt around in your mouth. And then you were okay again. You were giggling, trying to kick water in mama’s face as you splashed around in the bath, Natasha doing her very best to wash the rest of your body, including your teeny tiny toes. That one tickled and you couldn’t help but kick.

“Mama, my turn”, you insisted, grasping the sponge rather forcefully from her hands. You stood up, walking to stand between her legs, shoving the sponge at her chest that you could reach the easiest, sliding it up into her face, the foam coating half her face.

“Okay, woah, maybe be a bit more gentle, dear”, she suggested softly, pushing your hand back, wiping the white bubble mustache off her as you cackled again, squatting in the water. “Here, let mama show you.” She grasped your hand, bringing out her other arm for you to wash, guiding you to scrub her forearm. You found it incredibly entertaining, swishing your hand back and forth, back and forth, making sure mommy was squeaky clean, at least from that one single spot you went over at least ten times.

“Don’t you think that spot has been washed already?” Natasha prompted slyly watching you continue your work on her forearm.

“Make clean”, you mumbled to yourself, not pausing for even a second.

“Why don’t you try another spot?” She tried again, this time guiding your hand up to her bicep. “Wash under mommy’s arm”, she said, lifting her arm up so you could do something that was actually useful. You did as told, scrubbing very intently, finally realizing to move a little too. You spent a little too long on her shoulder but eventually moved to her chest but then you forgot about the sponge, getting distracted by the white foam, your hands busy lathering it all over her, excited screeches leaving your mouth as you listened to the squelch of your hands against her skin. Natasha just let you be, her hands lathering the soap suds on your skin, occasionally cupping some of the water in her hands to flush the foam off your body. It was soothing, the warmth of the water seeping into her bones. She had been freezing the entire morning because she forgot the air conditioner on for the night and the bath was just perfect. She sank a little lower into the shallow water, barely noticing how you were climbing on top of her, entertaining yourself by balancing on top of her slippery body.

The redhead had learned not to mind the way your feet dug into her belly or how your fists gripped the sensitive skin of her chest. She simply closed her eyes and focused on the water, occasionally smiling at your laugh or something you had said. There was probably no part of her body that you hadn’t already invaded with your grippy fists and tiny teeth. She was so used to it.

Once both of you had decided that the bath was getting too boring, Natasha hosed you down and lifted you out of the water, moving you onto the thick carpet, wrapping you tightly into a white towel poncho that had the yellow beak and black eyes of a duck on the hood of it. At the back the towel had a tiny tail. You eyed Natasha’s body as she dried herself, picking your nose, waiting for her to be done. You tried to copy her movements but she was so fast so you just ended up patting your body a bit, the towel doing its best to dry you with your minimal help. She dressed herself while you squirmed in the sheets of her unmade bed, doing god knows what.

“Solnishka (sunshine), what are you doing?” She asked as you bounced on the bed. You never did run out of energy, or so it seemed at least.

“Bounce, bounce”, you said, throwing yourself around on the bed, giggling when your head hit the pillows. That is when a brief thought of putting you into combat fighting entered Natasha’s mind.

“Honey, you need to get dressed so we can go eat cookies. Wanda’s waiting”, she reminded you, pulling a grey hoodie over her bralette.

“Cookies!” You screamed, falling flat on your stomach in the bed. “Mama, I wan play!” You cried, tugging on her pants.

“We can play later, can’t we?” She suggested but you shook your head, pouting up at her. “Come on baby, let’s get dressed”, Natasha groaned, pulling you up into her arms, where you clung to her sweater for dear life, tears forming in your eyes. You were clearly moody that day.

“Mommy”, you sniffled, burying your face into her neck, your fingers scratching over the small arrow of the logo on her hoodie.

“What is it, milaya?” She asked in mild worry, always giving you a healthy amount of concern to assure you that she cared about even the most minuscule things on your mind.

“Mama”, you repeated, hugging her tighter.

“Mama’s here, my love. Right here”, she assured you, stroking your back softly. “Is it nap time for baby?” She asked quietly but you whined out your negative response. “No? Are you sure?” You nodded. “Then what is it?” You burst into tears.

“I- I… wan cookie”, you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. Natasha was not following at all. “Mama”, you cried, slumping back into her hold. Moments like these were what confused Natasha the most. You were clearly upset and conflicted but didn’t know why or didn’t know how to say it to her. The only thing she could do was comfort you and validate your feelings. She moved to your clothing drawer, pulling out underwear, pastel pink leggings and a soft, brown hoodie that had fluffy bear ears. You liked that one a lot and you always showed everyone your little ears when you wore it.

You cried silently as Natasha dressed you rather clumsily because you wouldn’t allow her to set you down. And then you were off to the kitchen where you would get your cookies, although Natasha wasn’t sure if you really wanted them anymore or not.

“Everything alright?” Wanda asked after glancing at your teary face, her wide eyes studying Natasha’s for an explanation.

“She’s okay, nap time is definitely nearing”, she chuckled, glancing at you and pulling out the finger in your mouth, ruffling the top of your hood-covered head. Her eyes moved to the dining table where a huge plateful of cookies waited with a carton of milk beside it, some of it already poured into your sippy cup that had most likely been warmed up. “Look at that!” She cheered softly, trying to get you excited again about the cookies you worked so hard for. “It smells so good in here”, she mused out loud, encouraging you to sniff the air. It smelled heavenly in the kitchen and you felt your mouth water at the cookies that waited on the table, so once Natasha sat down at the table your hand immediately reached for one.

“What do you say, honey?” Natasha prompted.

“Please”, you whined, your hands trying to grab one.

“Here you go, dear”, Wanda hummed, nudging the plate a bit closer to you. The cookies were still warm, the chocolate chips at the top still melted. You took a big bite, the chewy goodness melting on your tongue, tasting so perfectly sweet and buttery. You offered the cookie to Natasha, prodding it against her lips until she opened her mouth.

“Mm, these are good”, she groaned, her eyes fluttering shut. “These are really good”, she moaned, licking her lips clean of the melted chocolate. “You want a bit of milk with that, myshka (little mouse)?” Natasha suggested, pulling the sippy cup a bit closer. You grasped it with both hands bringing it to your lips, your head tilting back a bit as you focused on the milk, eyelids growing heavy.

“Wanda, could you bring the cookies into the living room?” She asked, moving you to sit on her hip before standing up from her seat. The younger woman nodded, smiling down at your sleepy face. Natasha cuddled into the couch cushions, allowing you to relax in her hold as you chugged down the milk, her hand coming up to your face to caress your features. Things were changing all too fast.

“Would you mind a sitcom or two?” Wanda asked gently, Natasha immediately shaking her head.

“Not at all. I was just about to suggest”, she admitted, offering a little grin to the witch. Wanda’s smile only widened as she grasped the TV remote and turned the screen on. She lowered the volume to a comfortable level before settling beside Natasha, her elbow propped against the back of the couch. The redhead reached her hand for Wanda’s hair, brushing it behind her ear. Natasha had grown so much more affectionate with the people around her since she got you, and Wanda couldn’t help but notice how comforting it was to have someone older be there for her, almost like being on the lookout for her. She rubbed her lips together, moving her gaze to the screen. When the first episode was over, Wanda’s head was resting against the couch cushions, eyes blinking heavily. You were fast asleep and the only one who wasn’t dozing off was Natasha. She was still stroking your face every now and then, following the show whenever she was reminded of its presence.

Halfway through the second episode, Wanda’s eyes slid shut and her head fell against Natasha’s shoulder, a gentle smirk spreading on the redhead’s lips.

Chapter 10: Training wheels

Chapter Text

Natasha woke up to a loud scream, followed by heartfelt sobs. You had just started to use your own bedroom properly and this time Natasha was intending to stick with it, hoping to rid you of the constant habit of sleeping in her arms. She was worried that you would become completely dependent on sleeping with her and that was an issue that neither of you needed, which is why she had decided to make you sleep in your own bedroom even on the nights that you wouldn’t have wanted to. But she knew four years sleeping mostly beside your mother was not easy to undo, so she was lenient and flexible with you. She didn’t have the heart to deny you her comfort which led to an extended period of co-sleeping.

She knew that you had woken up from a nightmare but she still rushed into your bedroom as fast as she could, turning the lights on as she slipped inside the room. And there you were sitting in bed with a huge pout as you sobbed your little heart out, immediately reaching for mama.

“Oh, baby”, Natasha cooed softly, walking to your bedside, sitting down on the edge, her hands cupping your face delicately. You only continued to wail, too pained to move from your spot under the covers as Natasha hushed you softly. “Mama’s here and the lights are on”, she reminded you, her hands rubbing up and down your arms. You just leaned into her, searching for comfort that the stuffie in your arms wasn’t able to give you, Natasha lifting you eagerly into her embrace. She didn’t even want to try to put you back to bed. She knew it was selfish and probably bad in the long run but she needed to have you beside her. She wanted to know you were safe and right there by her side as you both slept peacefully. Maybe she even needed you in her arms more than you needed her.

Natasha stood up from the bed, holding you tightly against her as she whispered comforting words to you, occasionally kissing your hair. You were no longer screaming but hiccuping quietly as you listened to what mama was telling you.

“What was your dream about?” She asked in a hushed tone even though there was no one in the apartment you needed to be quiet for. You tuned in on her question, sniffling loudly.

“Big, big purple dinosaur”, you whimpered, your brows scrunching as you held in another cry.

“Barney?” Natasha asked in confusion, thinking back to the previous afternoon when you had watched cartoons and other children’s programs on TV. You nodded as an answer.

“He ch-chase me”, you mumbled. “And- and huge teeths”, you explained hastily, just the thought of it scaring you, breath picking up slightly.

“Shh, there are no purple dinosaurs here, honey”, she assured you, rubbing your back for comfort. “Remember what mama always tells you?” She asked encouragingly. You thought for a second, once again nodding your head.

“Dreams can’t hurt us. They’re not real”, you recited the lines, looking up at Natasha as she set you down on her bed in the dimly lit bedroom.

“Good girl, so what does that mean?” She asked, prompting you to realize the safety of the situation.

“No purple dinosaur here”, you said with a firm nod that made Natasha smile. You were so adorable she just wanted to squish you.

“Precisely”, she hummed, crawling into bed, pulling the covers up so she could get under them, but you didn’t follow suit, just kept sitting with your legs crossed beside Natasha. She turned to her side to face you, her hand grasping yours. “What is it, baby?”

“Will- will you kiss good night again?” You asked quietly, fiddling with your fingers.

“Oh, absolutely I will”, Natasha cooed with a bright smile which you immediately returned. You lifted the covers, wiggling into their warmth, making sure you were nuzzled as close as possible to your mama. Natasha rose up onto her elbow, looking down at you. She could see the excitement on your face before she had even started and her heart probably skipped multiple beats at how tiny and sweet you were. “Here we go”, she said softly.

“Hush little baby don’t say a word, mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird”, she sang quietly, her forefinger smoothing down the bridge of your nose in a repetitive motion. You blinked your heavy eyes at the comfort of it. “And if that mockingbird don’t sing mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring”, she continued, her singing turning into melodic humming so she wouldn’t have to go through all the lines of the song. Your eyes were already closed and you were holding your stuffed bunny close to your chest. “And if that horse and cart fall down you’ll still be the prettiest baby in town”, she finished in a whisper, her hand caressing your cheek, lips planting on your forehead, then on your nose and finally your chin, but the kisser that you were you let out a whine, opening your eyes, hands reaching for Natasha’s cheeks. You squished them, pulling her close so you could reach her forehead to copy her. You pressed a tiny kiss on her forehead, another on the tip of her nose but the third you placed on her lips. It made you giggle, Natasha chuckling softly as she tapped your nose.

“Now, good night, baby”, she said in a hushed tone.

“Good night, mama”, you mumbled, sighing in comfort when she hugged you close, your stuffed bunny and mama right there.

Despite the rough start to your day, you were all better by breakfast, your colorful fruit loops entertaining you with their roundness and rainbow-ness. You fished them out of the bowl when Natasha wasn’t looking and started forming all kinds of fun things. You tested how many loops you could stack up on top of each other but you never got your score because you flinched at Natasha turning around. You were trying to be subtle after all.

“Baby, don’t tell me you’re playing with your food again”, Natasha sighed, sounding quite tired.

“No, mommy, I’m not”, you assured her, your fists gathering the fruit loops into your palms before you stuffed them in your mouth.

“You know mommy is a super spy”, she reminded you, turning to look at your stuffed cheeks and guilty smile. “We’re gonna switch back to boring old Cheerios if you keep that up”, she said pointedly, going back to her fried eggs. You were definitely going to play more with your rainbow loops once you were sure she wasn’t looking.

After breakfast came cuddles because you insisted on doing your ABCs on Natasha’s lap. Her chin rested on your shoulder as she peered down at the huge book open on your lap, hands smoothing down your arms.

“What’s that over there?” Natasha asked, pointing at a snake in a tree, drawing your focus to the green reptilian.

“Snak”, you said.

“Repeat after mama, okay? Snake”, she said, annunciating very clearly.

“Sna-ke”, you repeated, this time pronouncing the A correctly.

“And how do you spell it?” She asked, pointing at the spot where the word had been spelled with capital letters.

“S”, you started rather confidently, pointing your tiny finger at each letter as you went. “M”, you continued.

“Baby, that’s not M”, she corrected you gently. “M is like mama”, she reminded you.

“Uh, it’s ‘na’”, you mused.

“What’s the first letter of mama’s name?” She guided you. “Remember?”

“Na-ta-sha”, you nodded. “Na, na”, you made the sound a couple of times but you couldn’t remember what the letter was called.

“Yes, it’s an N”, she praised you, kissing your head. “We’ve got S and N, what’s next?”

“S, N, A”, you reviewed, pointing at each letter again. “Aaa”, you said giggling. “Aaa.”

“That’s right! Aaa, that’s what mommy tells you to say when brushing teeth”, she hummed, her fingers combing over your hair affectionately. “What’s next?”

“K”, you nodded, moving to the next yourself. “E.”

“Good girl!” Natasha praised, clapping her hands. “And what does it spell?”

“Sna-ke”, you nodded, clapping your hands at your success. “Snake, snake!”

“What about this word right here?” She pointed at another word. You studied it for a second before starting the process again.

“B-E-A-R, beer”, you nodded.

“Not quite, honey. You forgot to say the A. Be-ar”, she corrected the word for you.

“Bear”, you mused out loud.

“Just like that. Bear.”

“Bear”, you repeated. “It’s Mister Bear!” You exclaimed when you recognized the bear from the picture and the story Natasha had read to you many times.

“Do you want to try that sentence?” She suggested, pointing at a short sentence under a picture.

“H-I-S, hiss, hat”, you glanced at mama who nodded in confirmation.

“His hat. Good, go on milaya (honey)”, she prompted.

“His hat… ha-s…goon…”

“Yes, gone”, she corrected you subtly.

“Has gone…” you paused, looking at the jumble of letters in front of you. “Mmm…”

“You got it, myshka (little mouse). What’s that letter?”

“I”, you replied. “Mi…sss.” You let out a whine. “Mommy!” You whimpered, desperate for help.

“You’re almost there, solnishka (sunshine)!” She cheered you on, more than proud of you already. After all, you were much more advanced than a regular four-year-old. “It’s another I”, she offered.

“Missi”, you said, trying to decipher the word. “Mama, I don’t know”, you admitted, your features forming into a frown. You were getting tired and it was time to wrap up the practice.

“There’s an N and a G”, she said, helping you a bit.

“Missin’”, you said, struggling to include the ng-sound at the end but it was good enough for the both of you.

“Yes! You did it, baby!” Natasha exclaimed, hugging you tightly as you giggled in excitement at completing your task.

After finishing your obligatory morning studying so that you could stay home instead of going into a kindergarten, you had plans to go into the park with Clint while Natasha got a bit of work done at home. The archer had promised you to teach you the secret to riding without training wheels and, boy, were you excited, but before you could go you needed a brief nap on mommy’s chest while she read through some papers. Although, she did no more than a half a page of reading before she clocked off to the sound of your soft snoring. You had kept both of you up at night with your scary dreams and Natasha was barely hanging on to begin with.

“Wakey-wakey, Nattypoo”, someone cooed softly, brushing Natasha’s cheek. Her eyelids slid open to discover Clint way too close to her for comfort. You giggled loudly from his side where you were already donning your outside clothes.

“What?” She groaned, closing her eyes again.

“I’m gonna steal your little one over here”, he explained, lifting his hand that was holding yours up slightly to show Natasha. “You keep on snoozing. We’re gonna go have some fun”, he chuckled, a smile spreading on the redhead’s face.

“Okay, give mommy a kiss”, she mumbled, feeling Clint’s stubble brush her forehead. “No, not you!” She groaned, pushing a chuckling Clint away. “Come here, baby”, she hummed, pulling you into her embrace as you giggled loudly, kissing mama. “Go have fun, kroshka (little one), and you”, she said, pointing at Clint. “You bring her back in one piece”, she commanded.

“Will do!” He hollered from the door, watching as you skidded to him, your tiny boots thumping rapidly. “Let’s go, you little hurricane”, he said as he closed the door behind you, both of you getting out of the compound right after grabbing your bike.

“We’ll do a bit of warming up first, okay?” He suggested, his hand supporting your back as you climbed on the bike. “Try to keep yourself compact. You know what that means?”

“No.”

“Don’t lean to the sides and keep yourself centered”, he explained, letting go of you to allow you to bike around a bit.

“Am I doing it right?” You shouted from a couple feet ahead, turning your head around to look at him.

“Keep your eyes on the road, hon”, he hollered back, watching how you cringed and turned back around. Mommy was always reminding you about that. You paddled forward, doing a very wide and shaky u-turn to go back to Clint.

“Can we try with no wheels?” You asked as you almost steered into his leg.

“Sure, honey, get off the bike for me”, he instructed, helping you off so you wouldn’t shove the bike down. You watched him take off the training wheels, constantly hovering at his shoulder to see what he was doing. Finally, he pocketed his screwdriver and the wheels came loose off your shiny, bright red bike. You clapped your hands, squealing in excitement, hands already reaching for the handle bar. Clint steadied you by your shoulders a bit as you got on.

“There you go!” He praised with a wide smile on his face, looking down to the pedals that you settled your feet on, those fancy Chanel boots that you had insisted on wearing shining softly. They were a gift from Pepper and probably cost more than you did. “You ready?” Clint asked. You nodded your head enthusiastically. “Start slowly.”

You did as told, paddling how you normally would have because Clint was there to support you and it felt very similar to the training wheels. Then he lifted his hands off you but let them hover so that he could grab you if you started to sway.

“I’m doing it!” You shouted, giggling slightly as you stared ahead at the road, feeling amazing even if Clint did occasionally nudge you to be more centered so you wouldn’t fall.

“You’re doing so well, look at you!” He cheered, picking up a light jog to keep up with you, his hand moving to the center of your back.

“I can bike!” You exclaimed, laughing again as you continued to go forward. After a couple more feet you started to slow down.

“Come on, hon, slow down a bit more. You have to learn to use the brakes as well”, he suggested, drawing your attention to the hand brake on the left. You reached your fingers for it, your balance swaying quite drastically but Clint kept you upright. You squeezed the brakes and the bike came to a stop. “Now, how do you get off without falling?” You seemed to ponder his question for a second before hopping forward, your feet on either side of the bike. “Good, now lift your right leg up and over the bike and step to the side”, he instructed, helping you do so. “Excellent! You’re a natural!” He praised, squeezing your upper arm as you cheered. “Wanna try again?”

You got back on the bike, paddling away with Clint’s assistance, of course, more than excited about the new skill you had learned. You did a couple of laps around the park, until you were getting good enough that Clint only had to hold the back of your seat to assist you. He used the oldest trick in the book, letting go when you weren’t paying attention. You rode the bike all by yourself and when you finally noticed that he wasn’t there beside you anymore, you craned your neck to see where he had disappeared. You steered to the left, the bike no longer in your control as you swerved into oncoming traffic. Your weak scream couldn’t be heard over the loud honk of the car horn. There was a loud crash and nothing to be done to your bloody and broken body or the mangled bike that got caught under the car.

Natasha shot up from the couch, her body shivering from shock as she blinked the tears out of her eyes, getting accustomed to the lighting of the living room. Her chest heaved with each intake of breath as she fumbled for her cell phone. She immediately dialed Clint’s number and brought the device to her ear as she chewed on her lower lip anxiously.

“Hi”, Clint’s voice came on the line.

“Is she okay? She’s okay, right?” Natasha asked immediately. He could clearly hear the panic in her voice, recognizing the tone of a frightened mother.

“Completely fine. Wanna say hi to mommy?” He suggested you and after some ruckus your voice found Natasha’s ears. “Mommy, I ride a bike!” You shouted, all too loudly, but Natasha did not care. The weight lifted off her shoulders and she sighed deeply.

“You did? All by yourself?” She marveled, wiping her tears away.

“I did! I did!” You yelled, clearly more than excited.

“We did a couple of laps around the park, nothing too extreme and I never let go of her but don’t tell her that”, Clint added once you were off the phone. “I know how to keep her safe, Natasha”, he reminded her sincerely.

“I know you do. I just… had an awful dream”, she sighed, rubbing her eyes. She could feel a headache coming and she was completely behind on everything she was supposed to have done that day. “Tell her that mommy loves her. And to stay away from cars”, she added before bidding goodbyes and getting off the couch. She would need to do something to distract herself from the tight knot that had formed in her stomach during the dream. You would be back home in her arms in no time.

•••

“Mommy! Mommy!” You screamed, your muddy boots creating footprints on the recently cleaned floors, Natasha sighing in exhaustion before receiving you with enthusiasm.

“Hi, baby!” She squealed, lifting you into her arms for an embrace, Clint smiling softly. “How was the park?”

“Bike, bike, bike!” You shouted, bouncing in her arms, Natasha pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I ride a bike!”

“So I’ve heard”, she marveled, looking at your eyes that twinkled with excitement. “We have to go again tomorrow so you can show mommy too”, she said, holding you close, glancing at Clint who was grinning softly.

“Yes! We go again”, you stated, nodding your head, your pearly white teeth peaking through your smile, Natasha kissed your forehead.

“Yes, we will”, she affirmed, her fingers tickling you, making you giggle loudly. “Now let’s get this jacket off you and go for dinner”, she said, setting you to the floor, peeling off your jacket as you tried to kick off your boots, flailing around, nearly tripping over your own feet until Natasha finally helped you unzip the shoes and pull them off.

“What do you want for dinner, myshka (little mouse)? You staying for dinner, Clint?”, she asked, glancing up at him before standing up.

“No, thank you. I have to go-“

“‘paghetti-Ohs!” You informed her, running into the living room.

“Oh, no, milaya (honey). We’re not eating that crap”, she countered.

“Crap!” You shouted back.

“Exactly that”, Natasha hummed, Clint giving her an amused look.

“Not gonna tell her off?” He asked in mild surprise.

“Nah, why bother? She’s home anyway”, she shrugged. “She knows not to say those words when out.”

“Laura would’ve killed me for doing that”, he chuckled.

“She might’ve… just a little bit”, the redhead agreed, pinching her fingers together in emphasis.

You said goodbye to Clint, Natasha navigating her way into the kitchen to go prepare dinner. You still wanted your Spaghetti-Os that you had seen on TV once but you had never eaten them in your life, simply because Natasha wasn’t the biggest fan of American canned food. So instead, she made Spaghetti and meatballs, serving the dish without the tomato sauce because you had still not gotten quite used to it.

“Here’s your fork”, she hummed, handing you the plastic toddler fork. You grasped it in your hand, scrunching your nose at the pasta in front of you.

“Don’t give me any of that”, Natasha warned as she moved the small bowl closer to you. She went back to the stove to get herself some as well. You poked at the meatballs for a good while before spearing one of them into your fork. You brought it to your mouth, nibbling on it with your front teeth, your attention turning to Natasha as she set her plate of food on the table.

“Mama, I want…” you explained, pointing at her serving of food.

“Honey, we’re having the same thing”, Natasha replied.

“Tomato”, you mumbled, reaching for the food.

“My sweet child”, the redhead sighed. “You don’t like the sauce”, she explained, twirling her fork in the spaghetti before bringing it to her lips.

“I want tomato!” You whined in determination.

“Okay, mommy will give you sauce”, she hummed, standing up to get you a spoonful of the tomato sauce. “Open up, myshenka (little mouse).” You did as told, Natasha watching your face form a harsh grimace at the taste. She felt like saying something along the lines of “I told you so” but refrained. She offered some spaghetti first after already expecting you to refuse but you didn’t. “I guess pasta wins over tomato sauce”, she hummed to herself.

“I want mama food”, you whined again after you had recovered from the sauce.

“Baby, I’m eating the same food as you”, Natasha explained but you wouldn’t give in.

“No!”

“Just when I think I have you figured out…” she groaned, twisting some spaghetti around her fork and bringing it to your lips. You opened up, fitting the small bite in your mouth. Then you just ate it. Natasha blinked in confusion, unable to understand anything as you opened your mouth for more. “You confuse me more and more everyday”, she whispered, giving you another bite of her food.

Chapter 11: A piece of my childhood

Chapter Text

“Mama! Mommy!” You screeched, banging at the bathroom door.

“Honey, sweetie, I’m on the toilet right now”, Natasha replied, covering her eyes with her hand as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Mama, look! Mommy”, you cried, starting to sound like you were preparing for your famous crying concerto so Natasha turned the doorknob that was thankfully in her reach and opened the door for you. You let out an excited laugh, skidding to her, holding a crumpled piece of paper in your hand.

“Show me what you got there”, Natasha said encouragingly, grasping the corner of the paper.

“Look! It’s me”, you explained, pointing at an odd blob with facial features resembling mildly of a smiley face. “And that’s you!” Your finger moved to the left a bit to show scribbles of red accompanied by a pair of twig legs.

“Wow!” Natasha croaked, trying not to sound like she was indeed tearing up. “Oh, it’s gorgeous!” She praised in genuine amazement over your skills. You had never really drawn anything, just scribbled, but now you were drawing figures with intent, clearly observing the world around you just like a healthy toddler should. “How did you get mama’s hair so perfect?” She asked in bewilderment, studying the mess of scribbles as you just giggled, clearly pleased by her comments, muttering a faint “I don’t know” as your face flushed with pride.

“This is so beautiful, my angel. Why don’t you go wait outside and then we’ll hang it up on the fridge?” The redhead suggested, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You grinned, rushing out of the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. Natasha looked at you go, the tears spilling over against her will. She sniffled, wiping them off her cheeks immediately.

“Great, now I’m crying on the toilet”, she mumbled, grabbing the toilet paper.

After she had gathered herself and deemed herself ready enough to see your adorable face again she got out of the bathroom to find you in the kitchen where you were already waiting for your picture to be hung up.

“Mommy! Mommy! I want it high”, you exclaimed, jumping on your feet when she finally emerged from the living room. “Up! Up”

“Wanna do it yourself?” She suggested with a wide smile, her arms already open for you so she could lift you to her hip. You ran to her, hopping a little for her to catch you. “Which magnets do you want to use?”

“Bear and… heart”, you decided, your free hand reaching for the red heart.

“Here, let mama hold it in place”, she hummed, pressing the paper to the cool steel of the fridge as you moved the magnet into the corner of the drawing. You repeated the same with the teddy bear magnet before Natasha stepped back to admire the work, both of you sporting wide smiles. “It’s gorgeous, sweetheart”, she said into your hair before kissing your head.

“Okay… down”, you informed her, wiggling your legs a bit to make her put you down. She frowned at your sudden request but followed orders regardless. You took one more glance at the drawing, giggling almost mischievously before sprinting into the living room couches. By the time Natasha had reached you, you were knelt before the coffee table, scribbling something with a crayon. A fond smile crossed her face as she rounded the couch and crouched down to sit beside you.

You didn’t say anything, just gave her a brief glance, focusing back on your work. Natasha’s eyes raked over the table that was littered with pencils and markers of all sorts, her hand reaching for a soft pink. She pulled a blank piece of paper before her and started to draw, not having the slightest idea of what it was going to be. After noting what your mama was doing you took a quite long peek at her work. You were curious. You’d never seen her draw before. She merely colored the pages of your coloring book sometimes. You accepted her presence, focusing on your own drawing once again, occasionally peeking at hers.

Natasha wished she could dive inside your mind and see every single thought you had. She was so curious of the way your brain functioned and of the thoughts that bounced inside your head. She could see from your eyes that you were very focused and not quite present. The redhead tucked some of your baby hairs behind your ear, caressing your head gently, your gaze turning to her. After a moment of consideration, you slid the paper and crayon in front of Natasha before schooching your little butt onto her lap, going back to work. Natasha wrapped her right arm around your waist, pulling you closer just a smidge as her left arm continued to color her drawing.

“What are you drawing?” You asked, glancing up at Natasha with your huge eyes. She smiled down at you, kissing your forehead, her gaze moving to the image she had drawn.

“It’s a little piggy”, she hummed, her thumb rubbing your soft belly.

“No!” You giggled, studying the image. “It’s a big one! Big piggy!” You laughed in excitement.

“You like it?” She asked, co*cking her head to see your face.

“Yes! We put it on the fridge”, you said immediately.

“What did you draw, honeycomb?”

“This- this is… Wanwan”, you explained, pointing at the red swirls on the paper, coupled with a few black dots here and there. The image resembled a bit more of a firework than anything human.

“Wanda? Oh, it looks just like her! We’ll have to show it to her, won’t we?” She asked you brightly, watching you nod in determination. Natasha smiled softly as she brushed some of your hair back. “Sweetie?” She began, gaining your attention almost immediately. “You know how mommy has a sister?” You nodded again, going back to the crayons. “How would you feel about meeting Auntie Yelena?” She asked, co*cking her head a bit to see what your face was saying. She hadn’t told you much about Yelena, mostly things from the time spent in Ohio, the rest of her time with her sister consisting of many unpleasant memories. Although Yelena had been there when Natasha had found you, she never got to properly meet you.

“Auntie Yelna”, you stated rather solemnly, most likely trying to remember who she was and if you knew her.

“Yes, Yelena. She’s visiting New York and I asked her to come over and stay the night. Would you like to meet her?” She asked again. “She likes ponies too”, Natasha added, tickling your side a bit as a wide grin spread on your face.

“Does she like blue ponies?” You inquired as if deciding whether she was worth meeting or not.

“I’m sure she likes all kinds of ponies”, Natasha hummed, allowing her hand to caress your bicep comfortingly. It was settled and when Yelena came to visit that evening, you were clutching to Natasha’s hand, observing the blonde woman who strode in as if she owned the place.

“Natasha”, she hummed, her heavy accent shining through from the single word. Mama let go of your hand, wrapping her arms around Yelena and embracing her tightly, both of them chuckling softly. The hug was brief and suddenly all the attention was on you. “Who’s this kroshenka (little one)?” Yelena asked. You noted her voice was lower than your mother’s, she felt much less put together than mama. She felt wild and reckless. You lifted your hand up to your mouth to bite your index finger, feeling quite nervous as Yelena crouched down to your level. Natasha placed her hand on your back encouragingly, her thumb stroking over your shirt.

“Honey, why don’t you say hi to auntie Yelena”, Natasha prompted, watching how you waved your hand at her sister, uttering a brief greeting.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Yelena. I hear you like ponies, yeah?” She said, doing her best to seem welcoming enough for you. You simply nodded your head. “Your mama told me you want your own pony.”

“Uh-huh”, you nodded, clearly shying away from her, but you were still intrigued.

“What kind of pony?”

“Blue”, you replied immediately, your smile widening.

“Wow, that is so cool!” Yelena praised, glancing up at Natasha who was unable to hide her smile. “Is your pony fast?” She inquired, noting how you were starting to warm up.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. You were very passionate about the subject, especially when it came to the speed of your pony. “Faster than race cars”, you said confidently.

“No way! Faster than a Ferrari?” Yelena marveled animatedly.

“Yes!” You giggled as if it was the most obvious question ever. You and Tony had had endless debates about the subject, your blue pony always somehow faster than any of Tony’s cars from his collection.

“What’s its name?”

“I don’t know”, you replied, scrunching your nose.

“She hasn’t decided yet. Currently we are between Princess Sparkle Pony and Pony Pony Twinkletony”, Natasha explained, her tone rather serious considering the twitch in the corners of her lips when she revealed the names that made her laugh internally every time.

“That is a tough choice!” Yelena sighed animatedly. “Why don’t we go into the living room to figure it out?” She suggested, watching how your eyes visibly brightened at the idea. You turned around sprinting into the living room where the crayons were still splayed on the table.

“You’re so good with her”, Natasha said quietly in disbelief, her face clearly displaying her surprise.

“Kids love me”, Yelena shrugged smugly, Natasha nudging her playfully as they made their way into the living room where you were already drawing.

“This is… pony”, you stated, coloring the paper blue, still hesitant about what to call your precious pony. You drew an oval for the head, a big plump body and four stumpy legs, everything colored blue, of course.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Yelena asked, clearly intrigued.

“It’s just pony”, you replied firmly.

“So is pony a princess?” Yelena prompted. You nodded your head. “Then I think Princess Sparkle Pony would suit perfectly.” But little did Yelena know that Natasha had already gone over this with you.

“No!” You whined. “It doesn’t fit”, you complained. “Because, because there’s no sparkle”, you grumbled.

“Pony doesn’t sparkle, it twinkles”, Natasha elaborated, Yelena nodding in understanding.

“Then Pony Pony Twinkletony suits better.”

“No”, you protested again.

“The pony is a princess after all”, Natasha reminded Yelena who hummed in thought.

“What if it was called Princess Pony Pony Twinkletony?” She asked, watching how your eyes widened. You hadn’t thought of that. Your gaze turned to mama in awe, clearly over the moon with this sudden turn of events. You grabbed the piece of paper where the pony was drawn and placed it on mama’s lap alongside the blue crayon.

“Write it!” You commanded in excitement, Natasha raising her brows expectantly. “Please”, you added hastily.

“What’s the first letter of princess?” She asked, scooching off the couch and onto the floor so she could use the coffee table as a stable surface and be on your level as well.

“P!” You shouted impatiently, Yelena following you curiously.

“Next?” Natasha prompted, wanting you to use your new spelling skills.

“I!”

“Not quite, honey. You skipped a letter”, she said softly, writing the I on the paper but leaving a blank space for the overlooked letter. “What’s the letter for rrr”, Natasha rolled her R in demonstration.

“R!”

“Good girl”, she cheered, writing down the letter. You were too impatient to spell more than “princess” but Natasha deemed it good enough and wrote the rest of the name down on the paper.

“Princess Pony Pony Twinkletony!” You shouted, showing the picture to both Natasha and Yelena, unable to contain your excitement as you ran around the apartment.

“She is absolutely adorable”, Yelena stated solemnly as they both watched you go.

“Everyday I die just a little bit inside because of that”, Natasha hummed, a smile tugging at her lips. At the moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to drown you in kisses.

“I can see why”, she chuckled, glancing toward the kitchen.

“Yes, I bought you box mac and cheese”, Natasha replied before Yelena had had the chance to utter a single word.

“Coolest sister ever!” She cheered, briefly kissing Natasha’s forehead before bouncing off the couch and into the kitchen, Natasha following in her footsteps.

“Mama what is Yelna eating?” You inquired when you were all seated at the dinner table. You and Natasha were having leftovers from the day before because Natasha couldn’t stand box mac and cheese and she knew you didn’t like pasta for the most part so she played it safe with potato wedges and nuggets.

“Mac and cheese”, Yelena replied instead. “Want to taste?” You looked at Natasha for permission.

“You can have some, but not from her plate”, Natasha said, getting up and going to the stove with your plate in her hand.

“Why?” You asked in confusion.

“Because Yelena likes hot sauce. It’ll burn your mouth”, she explained, returning your plate in front of you with some of the yellow goo on it. You poked at it with your fork, a hesitant look on your face.

“Try it. You are going to love it”, Yelena assured you, encouraging you to scoop just a crumb onto the tip of your fork. Natasha seemed to have a different opinion. You brought the fork to your mouth, slurping the pasta off it. It was slimy and warm and you were quite convinced that you didn’t like it, but you ate it anyway because Yelena was eating it as well.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it. Mama doesn’t like it either”, Natasha explained, patting your back gently as you picked up a potato wedge and dipped it in ketchup before chomping a bite. You would surprise Natasha a week later by requesting mac and cheese for dinner because you wanted to be like Aunt Yelena.

Dinner time went by fairly quickly for you and once you were excused you took your dishes into the sink and skidded off, leaving Natasha and Yelena to discuss alone at the table. You weren’t really interested in their adult talk and difficult words that you didn’t understand so you kept to yourself, wandering around the house playing with whatever you came across. It didn’t take long for you to become bored. You lay on your back on the floor of your bedroom, your feet facing the ceiling. You didn’t know what you were doing but swinging your legs in the air ended up being surprisingly fun.

You heard loud laughter come from outside the room, grabbing your attention immediately. It had been a while since Natasha had had company just for herself. You always shared your company, whether it was Wanda or Clint, or someone else from the compound. You, however, did not like to share your mama. You got up from the floor, sneaking back into the living room to find out what was so funny. The women had moved to the couch, facing each other, both curled up on the cushions. They were talking quite loudly.

“Y/N? Did you know your mama is a goody-two-shoes?”, Yelena asked you, including you in the conversation despite your attempts at staying hidden. You should’ve known you could never hide from professional spies. Natasha protested immediately at Yelena’s words.

“Am not!” She butted in, clearly alarmed. “Don’t tell such lies to my daughter.”

“Oh, please”, Yelena groaned theatrically, making you giggle as you walked closer to them. “You so are”, she teased, smiling even wider when she saw Natasha take the bait “Remember that time I broke the neighbor’s bike and you tattled on me?” She inquired, watching how Natasha tried to splutter out a defense of some sorts.

“That is because…” She couldn’t come up with anything.

“Because you’re a loser”, Yelena finished for her. You giggled loudly, finding it incredibly funny that this aunt you had just met was teasing mommy. You climbed onto the couch, automatically aiming for Natasha’s lap where you knew you would be comfortable.

“You’re ruining my image as a cool mom”, Natasha mumbled, feigning her attitude. Secretly she loved to bicker with Yelena and she loved it even more now that she knew you found it funny.

“Let’s see… what else can I tell your little girl?” Yelena hummed, tapping her chin in thought.

“Did- did mama pee her pants?” You asked, clearly holding back your laughter as Natasha rolled her eyes discreetly. You were at that specific age where toilet terms somehow were the funniest thing ever.

“She did”, Yelena replied, Natasha’s jaw falling open in shock.

“No, that is not true”, she protested immediately, but you were already dying of laughter on her lap, your joyous cackles sounding in the room. “Yelka peed her pants too!” Natasha countered, her behavior a lot more childish than normal.

“I did no such thing”, Yelena retorted, her voice squeaking softly. “I have full control over my bladder.”

“That is a lie”, Natasha laughed. “Remember when dad was telling jokes at the dinner table and you laughed so hard you peed all over the chair?” She had finally gotten back at Yelena, and you were having the time of your life. Yelena, however, looked appalled.

“I was six!” She pointed out in her defense. There was another loud giggle.

“Six is too old to pee your pants, isn’t that right baby?” Natasha asked you as you nodded. “Six-year-olds are big kids already”, she added as you nodded your head, a wild grin on your face. In reality, Natasha didn’t think so but it was something she knew you would find truthful. You yourself were well potty-trained and no longer wet your bed, well, there had been a couple of accidents but Natasha wouldn’t tell that to Yelena. She held you loosely against her chest, kissing the crown of your head briefly.

“Whatever”, Yelena mumbled. “At least I didn’t sleep between mom and dad at eleven”, she murmured, Natasha flicking her forehead. “Ow! You’re giving her bad examples”, Yelena whined, rubbing over the stinging spot on her head.

“I was having nightmares”, Natasha countered, seeming slightly offended.

“What kind of bad dreams?” You inquired innocently, the women sharing a glance.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older, dorogaya (darling)”, she promised, her thumb stroking your cheek. You seemed a bit bummed out by her reply but accepted it anyway, yawning heavily. “I think it’s sleepy time for someone”, Natasha hummed, smiling down at your droopy eyelids. “You’re a big girl, go get yourself ready for bed, sweetie”, Natasha said, lifting you off her lap. “I’ll come tuck you in when you’re done, okay?” You let out a whine of protest, trying to clamber back onto her lap.

“Want me to time you?” Yelena asked in a challenge. You co*cked your head at her in confusion. “I’ll put on a timer that counts how long it takes you to get ready for bed”, she explained. You were definitely intrigued by the idea. You liked anything and everything that had to do with speed.

“Okay”, you nodded, getting off Natasha.

“One, two, three, go!” Yelena counted down the start for you, your small footsteps echoing through the apartment as you rushed into your bedroom.

“Remember to come visit the dentist!” Natasha hollered after you.

“What does that mean?” Yelena asked in confusion.

“I just check that she’s brushed her teeth correctly. I’d rather not have her get cavities”, she explained.

“I want to see this dentistry action”, Yelena mused, both of them waiting for you to return with a toothbrush clutched in your hand. It took you a whole five minutes to get changed into your pajamas because first you tried to put your head through the sleeve, but then it didn’t fit so you had to pull the garment off to find the hole for your head. But eventually you emerged from your bedroom, mouth full of white foam and your red toothbrush in your hand. You sat sideways on Natasha’s lap as she placed a hand on your back, her mouth making a whirring sound as she pretended to lower the back of your “seat” down.

“Open up for me, miss”, Natasha hummed, smiling widely when you opened your mouth as wide as it would go. She poked the brush inside, making sure to scrub each of your molars clean. “Front teeth”, she ordered and you bit down, baring your front teeth for her to clean. “Tongue.” You pushed out your tongue as far out as it would go, Natasha gently brushing over it, skillfully avoiding making you gag. “Great job, little miss! Looks like you’re done”, Natasha cheered, repeating the chair sound as she lifted you back upright. “Go flush your mouth and I’ll come say goodnight”, she ushered you, Yelena’s lips forming into a pout as the scene unfolded before her.

Yelena felt warm yet melancholy inside. She could so vividly see what Natasha and she herself had endured in their childhood reflected in the way Natasha treated you. She rarely saw parents treat their children with such adoration, such carefulness and compassion. It pained her to know that Natasha never got to have that, both of them only had gotten a glimpse of this life you were living. Yelena’s eyes felt sore, her vision blurring briefly. She recognized the strong presence of her own parental issues, the sudden yearning for someone older, someone stronger to take care of her returning at full force. Oh, how she wished her childhood had been different.

“You okay?” Natasha asked carefully, breaking Yelena out of her reverie.

“Yeah. Just… she’s one lucky child”, she mused out loud, still looking toward your bedroom door, some incoherent noise coming from your direction. Yelena sniffled softly, wiping under her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. Natasha knew what she was feeling, she had battled those emotions for months until finally having come to terms with the misfortunes of her upbringing. She slid her hand into Yelena’s, squeezing firmly.

“I’ve got you”, Natasha whispered, Yelena’s warm green eyes rising up to meet Natasha’s paler ones. She blinked away the sheen of her eyes, trying to offer a smile, but her lips barely moved. She nodded instead.

“Mama!” You shouted loudly from your bedroom, demanding for Yelena to come as well. “Yelna!”

Upon arrival in your room they found you from under the covers, your stuffed toy tightly in your embrace, an excited smile on your face.

“What’s the time?” You asked, practically vibrating on the bed. Yelena paused the stopwatch, showing the screen of her phone to you.

“Eleven minutes and forty-two seconds”, she revealed, returning your smile. “You did an amazing job”, she added.

“Yes, you did”, Natasha echoed, crouching down beside your bed. “I’m so proud of you.” She leaned over you, kissing your forehead, your nose and your lips, your eyes fluttering open once she pulled away.

“I love you, mama”, you whispered.

“I love you more, myshka (little mouse)”, Natasha replied, fingertips caressing your smooth face. “I love you so much.” She pressed one more kiss on your forehead before getting up. “Good night, baby.”

“Good night, mama. Good night, Yelna”, you mumbled quietly, waving your hand at them as they moved to the door, Natasha switching on a night light before turning off the big light.

“Sleep tight, angel”, Natasha whispered into the dim room, shutting the door behind. “She’ll crawl into bed with us somewhere after midnight”, Natasha warned her sister, Yelena just smiling softly. “She still gets scared most nights.”

And sure enough, when it finally struck half past one you scooched out of your bed and tiptoed across the hall into Natasha’s room, finding a perfectly suitable space from between mama and Yelena.

Chapter 12: And chaos ensued

Chapter Text

“Y/N! You in here, poopster? Uncle Tony’s got a little gift for you”, Tony informed, looking for you in the living room.

“Right here!” You exclaimed running to greet him. You rarely hugged him. It just didn’t come naturally to either of you. Sometimes you were even a bit reserved around him because you never really built a bond with him like the ones you had with Wanda, Steve and Clint. Regardless of that you still trusted him and recognized him as a part of your family.

“I made you something”, he said mysteriously, pulling out a bracelet. Your eyes widened almost comically as you marveled at the rather plain piece of jewelry.

“Cool!”

“Put it on, pumpkin”, Tony prompted, helping you slide it around your wrist. It let out a sound, your mouth hardening into a line from mild fear. “It’s okay. That’s supposed to happen.” You eyed him for a second, his firm gaze assuring enough.

The small plaques of the bracelet started to multiply and spread up your arm, the quiet whirring growing a bit louder. Your wrist was suddenly wrapped in iron, the repulsor in the palm of your hand activating, glowing a faint blue. You gasped, looking at Tony who was smiling in excitement as the suit engulfed you whole. You chuckled at the way it tickled you and then finally a face plate slid down in front of you, a screen displaying all kinds of statistics that you barely knew how to read. If you had tried it would’ve taken you the entire afternoon.

“Try to walk in it”, Tony said, clearly giddy about his new invention, or rather newly adjusted gadget. You took a step forward, expecting the armor to be heavy but it wasn’t. It felt pretty good. All you could do was laugh and giggle because words weren’t enough to express your excitement.

“Can I try these?” You asked, gesturing the repulsors and copying the pose you had seen Ironman make a thousand times.

“Go ahead, buttercup. Aim at the wall, never people”, he guided you with little to no regard for the interior of the compound, nudging you to turn toward the huge wall of the living room. It took you a second to figure out how to make the repulsors work but when you finally did, it blasted energy so harshly from your hand that you flew back onto the floor, not only surprised by the power behind it but also by the fact that your fall hadn’t hurt at all. There was a loud sound, the wall in front of you tearing. The damage wasn’t irreparable, but the basketball sized hole in it was definitely not going to go unnoticed. You let out a mildly shocked cackle as you sat up onto your elbow, the repulsor of your dominant hand ready to shoot again.

And soon enough you both heard the rushed footsteps that neared the living room, Tony squinting his eyes at you in mild irritation.

“You didn’t tell me she was here”, he groaned in annoyance.

“She’s always here”, you retorted with a scoff. “It’s not like you asked”, you mumbled, already sensing the chastise you were about to receive. Your mother’s figure arrived from the kitchen, her widened eyes taking in the sight of Tony and a burning hole in the wall, an Ironman suit conveniently the same size as you right there beside him.

“Tony, what is that?” Natasha asked as she slowly walked closer to inspect the damage done to the wall, her vigil eyes making sure you weren’t going anywhere from the scene.

“It’s an Ironbaby suit”, Tony shrugged.

“It’s a what?” Natasha shrieked, whipping around to look at Tony, her fingers wrapping tightly around his earlobe as she walked him to the side to get away from your little ears because there was going to be a mouthful of curse words in a tone that she didn’t want you to hear.

“I baby proofed it”, he whined in defense, bending his neck more to avoid the sting of Natasha’s grip on his ear.

“There’s a hole in the wall”, she said bluntly as you giggled at the bit of smoke that came from the burnt edges. “Y/N, get out of that suit.”

“Mommy!” You whined, the face shield sliding up as you gave her the most pleading frown you could muster.

“Out, Y/N. I won’t tell you thrice”, she grumbled, her attention tuning back in on Tony. “What in the ever living f*ck were you thinking?” She asked, gritting her teeth as he winced at her tightening grip.

“It’s just a little prototype. It’s basically protective gear”, he tried to reason but Natasha wasn’t having any of it.

“This better be the last time I see her anywhere near that suit. Does it have jets?” She asked, her infuriated eyes boring into his. He should probably lie.

“No”, he shook his head like a school boy caught in a lie.

“Bullsh*t”, she spat.

“It has jets?” You shrieked in excitement.

“No, baby, it doesn’t”, Natasha countered, holding Tony’s gaze, lowering her voice even more. “I’m sparing you only because she likes you, got it? Let this be the last f*cking time you put my baby in danger”, she hissed, letting go of him and walking to your side, ready to help you out of the suit that was already starting to disassemble on its own.

“And you, young lady, don’t think we’re done here”, she reminded you, crouching down beside you.

“Please, don’t ground me, please”, you whined in panic. Natasha had never grounded you in her life but it was a scary thought to a five-year-old and it was something she used to scare you with if you were misbehaving.

“Hmm? Grounding? That’s a great idea”, she mused playfully.

“No!” You shrieked desperately. “Mommy!” She could see the fear flash in your eyes and it only mildly amused her. She had no intention to ground you. This was Tony’s fault.

“I’m not going to ground you, but I want you to understand that this could’ve gone seriously wrong. You could’ve hurt Tony badly, and even worse, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.

“You’re being a bit dramatic”, Tony intervened, his tone indifferent.

“Tony, out!” Natasha hissed with such venom that the man skidded out quite quickly after giving you a sly wink. It never seized to amaze you how everyone just listened to your mother. “Do you understand mommy?” She questioned firmly, her voice drastically softer when aimed at you, Natasha focusing back on lecturing you as you nodded your head. “A life is something you can’t repair, sweetheart, and that’s why we have to be careful. We only get one life”, she explained to you as you nodded your head at her words, clearly thinking over your actions, but those thoughts didn’t stick around for much longer because it only took you two days to find more trouble.

Tony could see the mischievous side to you and he loved it because he could relate to it the most. It started small and innocent with the two of you switching up the cream between Oreos into toothpaste. No one could be mad about it because you were so overjoyed by everyone’s reactions that they had simply laughed along with you. Another hit had been blasting music whenever the fridge was opened. Tony had helped you to rig the speakers to the fridge. Then you had waited in the living room for each of the Avengers to go and open the door, only for it to blast AC/DC as loud as possible.

Natasha didn’t exactly love that Tony was teaching you such things but she appreciated his effort to spend time with you especially since he hadn’t really done so in the past. The traps and gags that you built with him taught you many things and kept you entertained. As long as no one got hurt it was okay. Some of the pranks were definitely followed by a reprimand, but it just made it all the more fun because it brought a bigger risk factor into the game.

“Y/N!” Tony called to gain your attention as you were doing some morning reading at the kitchen table, a bright smile on his face.

“Anybody seen my shield?” Steve asked as he strode into the kitchen where most of the team was having breakfast. Your head shot upright, your eyes widening in guilt. You glanced at Tony who winced at the question. You had more than seen the shield. You had definitely seen it. You had definitely ridden down the snowy slopes on it with Tony. Not only had you gone sledding with the prized shield, you had hidden it in Natasha’s closet where she kept all her undercover mission dresses that she hadn’t used in God knows how long, so that you could play with the shield when pretending to be a superhero in the comfort of your own bedroom.

“No”, you replied to Steve, going back to reading, your nose theatrically close to the book as Tony patted your back.

“I’ll take care of it”, he murmured in your ear, his goatee tickling you. His hand brushed over your hair as you lifted your eyes up to him, offering him a grateful smile.

“Thanks”, you grinned, Tony’s smile only widening, his dark brown eyes holding a softness to them.

“I got it”, Tony announced. “I needed it for my lab… stuff”, he explained, Steve nodding slightly hesitantly, not sure if Tony’s explanation was all too convincing. “Where did you hide it?” He asked, crouching back down to your level.

“Mommy’s closet”, you whispered, glancing her way to where she was cutting up fruit.

“What’s in mommy’s closet?” Natasha inquired, raising a brow at you.

“Princess dresses”, you said quickly, Tony smirking at you and showing you thumbs up. You giggled, thinking Natasha had no clue what was going on but the spy saw right through you. She knew something was up with you and Tony even if she didn’t know exactly what it was.

“Hey, Y/N, you coming to watch the group training?” Clint asked, grabbing a protein shake from the fridge.

“If mommy lets me”, you sighed. Natasha wasn’t sure if she should let you watch. She wanted to protect you from violence, not that you hadn’t seen them fight before, but she still tried her best to keep you safe and away from all the combat commotion.

“Oh, come on, let her come”, Steve reasoned, Wanda appearing into the kitchen as well.

“She knows we’re not actually fighting”, Wanda noted, lingering beside Natasha so she could steal some of the fruit the woman was preparing for you.

“Yeah, mama, you have to let me come with you!” You whined. “There’s no one to babysit me”, you pointed out.

“Excellent point!” Tony chimed in.

“Fine, kroshka (little one) you can come”, Natasha relented, setting the plate of fruit in front of you.

The matter was settled and you got permission to attend the training session. You were dying to see them in action, not because they were cool but because you and Tony had something planned. You and Wanda ate your fruit snack, Natasha unable to be anything but amused by the fact that Wanda -a grown woman- was snacking on your apple wedges and peanut butter.

The afternoon ended up being a spectacle you wouldn’t have missed for anything in the world. You had switched Clint’s regular arrows into slime ones, the entire training field covered in green goo. Nearly all of them had slipped in the slime and you ended up running into the field to play in it. Natasha had had to rein in her frustration and take a deep breath as she watched you ruin your clothes and hair in the sticky, green slime. You and Tony were the only ones that saw anything fun in it, the rest of the team finding it extremely tiresome. Although they couldn’t be mad at you because they knew it was Tony who was encouraging your child-like ideas. You weren’t the one who was bringing them to life. The blame was not on you. After the very short training session Natasha got the chance to lecture both you and Tony on people safety. His version of the speech was much less toned down and included almost getting kneed in the scrotum.

“Honey, you have to slow down, okay?” Natasha stated, scrubbing your arm in the bath, trying to rid you of your green skin, your hair soaking in a thick layer of conditioner to ease the inevitable combing of your hair that was ahead of you.

“Why?” You asked, clearly upset.

“Because you’re going to get hurt”, she reasoned. “Sooner or later something will go wrong if you keep messing around like this”, she said, moving back to grab a comb off the bathroom counter. She brought it to your hair, gently starting to brush out the clumps of slime.

“Why?” You asked again, Natasha sighing heavily. What could she even begin to say to that? She was so tired of your delinquency. She was exhausted from worrying over your safety every other day. She was tired of constantly having to reprimand you for the trouble you kept finding. Despite her initial joy, she had had enough of beating Tony up for encouraging and enabling your bad behavior. It was too much stress for her. She couldn’t lose you.

“Mommy is scared for you”, she began. “I’m scared that you’ll get seriously hurt. We talked about this, didn’t we?”

“Uh-huh”, you nodded, wincing as the comb got stuck on a clump of slime in your tangled up hair.

“I know you’re not scared”, she mumbled, slightly regretting raising you to be so fearless. “But mommy is. I’m so scared of you getting injured… or dying. Do you understand what it means to die?” She had explained death to you before. You knew what it was but she wasn’t convinced enough that you actually comprehended what it entailed.

“Yes”, you whispered.

“You know that if you were to die mommy would be so, so sad?” She questioned.

“Yes, but I’m not gonna die”, you protested immediately.

“Malyshka (baby)”, Natasha sighed. “No one can guarantee that.”

“I can”, you retorted. Natasha had to fight the urge to show you just how frustrated she was with you but she opted not to do so.

“Imagine mommy died. I would be gone forever. You could never see me again, never talk to me, never kiss me or hug me. I would no longer exist. How would that make you feel?” She attempted to evoke any kind of emotion in you to help you understand what she was feeling. You sat quietly in the bath, staring at the bubbles floating on the surface of the water. You glanced up at her, guilty eyes averting her gaze. “What are you feeling right now?” There was a lengthy moment of silence as you thought over your answer.

“I feel sad”, you whispered. “And scared”, you added hesitantly.

“You wouldn’t wanna make mommy feel that way, would you?” She asked softly, hoping she was getting through to you.

“No”, you admitted, shaking your head as she grabbed the head of the shower and started to rinse your hair.

“That is why you can’t put yourself in danger”, she whispered, her left hand cupping your cheek to make you look her in the eyes. She gave you an empathetic frown, kissing your forehead. “I’m not trying to scare you, angel. I just need you to understand so that we can avoid accidents”, she explained as you nodded your head again in understanding.

Among all the trouble you found yourself in, perhaps the worst of the worst was when Tony taught you how to fly a helicopter. His intentions were innocent, he merely wanted to show you how the intricate machine worked and how it was capable of carrying someone in the air. You had asked yourself, demanding to know. He never took you for a flight because he knew Natasha wouldn’t like that and you would most likely not be able to keep that to yourself. You would eventually babble, weaving Tony into a trap. So he settled for showing how the buttons worked, how to turn on the rotor at the top, and how to ignite the engine because you were clearly interested and he saw no harm in teaching you. It had been very brief but the consequences that followed were something no one could’ve seen coming.

“There’s an unauthorized helicopter take off. Who’s down there?” Steve asked, scrolling through the pad that had alerted the security breach. Tony shrugged.

“Maybe it’s Barton”, he suggested, but Steve didn’t seem convinced.

“He was in the gym with me”, he pointed out, Tony reaching for the pad. “Friday, give me an aerial view”, he commanded, a screen popping up in front of them. He used his hands to zoom in on the helicopter that was gaining altitude in an odd angle.

“That’s not… is it?” Steve mused out loud, Tony’s horror-struck face answering his question as they both stared at the zoomed-in footage of the helicopter.

“sh*t!” He hissed, having pieced the puzzle together far faster than Steve ever could have. “Find the witch for me!” He growled, rushing out to the balcony, pulling on the strings of his hoodie, activating his Ironman suit. He leapt off the railing, the suit slowing down his fall enough to avoid the ground. He soared into the air toward the wobbly helicopter, his heart beating out of his chest. “Friday, connect me to AEC-756!”

“Will do, Sir”, the feminine mechanical voice replied, followed by some static before it fully connected to your aircraft.

“Y/N”, he started, reminding himself to keep his tone down to avoid alarming you.

“Tony?” You asked in panic at hearing his voice. You knew you were so far off from behaving appropriately that you couldn’t even imagine what would happen if your mother found out. You knew you had done wrong.

“Hey, it’s me pumpkin”, he greeted you, offering a wave a few feet away from you. Tony pondered what he should do. The steering of a helicopter was too complicated for a toddler with barely any fine motor skills to understand. You wouldn’t be able to land safely even if he instructed you step by step. Opening the door was unnecessarily risky and he would rather not start off with that.

“I’m in so much trouble”, you whispered, mostly to yourself. You knew you were a goner.

“Let’s not focus on that, sweetie. Right now we’re gonna get you down”, he assured you, watching how you turned around in your seat to face Ironman, hands coming off the control panel. The helicopter plummeted, Tony swiftly sliding under the machine, blasting his jets on the highest they could handle, his heart beating in his throat.

“Stark!” Wanda’s voice echoed from down below.

“Max! I could use a little help here!” He groaned, the crushing weight of the helicopter starting to push him down toward the ground, albeit at a much slower pace than gravity would have insisted.

“What do I do?” She asked, not really sure what the best approach was.

“Get her out!” He hissed, realizing it was probably your only option. Wanda immediately flew through the air, glowing a deep red. She had no shoes or socks on and was only wearing her pajamas, damp hair flowing down her back. She attempted to wrap her magic around the helicopter to keep it in the air but she found herself struggling too much to keep it steady. Mindful of the blades above, she found her way to the door, her magic invading the lock that prevented her from getting access to you. Your face was slack with fear as you stared at a horrified Wanda who was quite literally tearing the door down to get to you. She didn’t say a word, she simply yanked you out of the aircraft, enclosing you in her embrace, making sure you were safe in her arms.

“She’s out!” Wanda informed Tony who immediately let go of the helicopter that thudded into the wilted grass in seconds, the 70 foot (21 meter) drop over in the blink of an eye. Wanda sighed heavily, her hand caressing the back of your head softly.

She brought you to the same balcony Tony had jumped down from, shivering as her cold feet touched the stone tiles. Despite saving your life, Wanda threw you straight under the bus by bringing you to your mother’s petrified presence, Natasha only having arrived in time to witness the very end of your extraction. There was a loud explosion when the helicopter blew up into smithereens, her eyes widening at the smoke that billowed into the air. You were so screwed.

Chapter 13: For I warned you a thousand times

Chapter Text

“Y/N Romanoff!” That tone of voice you had never heard come from your mother in your five years of living. She had never raised her voice at you like that. “Let this be the last time, you hear me? The last f*cking time you ever, ever, do something this idiotic!” She shouted angrily. You flinched hard at how loud she was being, tears already brimming in your eyes. It was supposed to be a bit of fun. You didn’t mean to upset her.

“Mama-“

“No, shut up“, she commanded through gritted teeth.”You don’t get to say a single word! You’re grounded. End of story”, she ordered, voice cold as ice. “Boga radi! (For f*ck’s sake!)”, she growled, bringing her hand to her forehead as if her head was aching. She was scaring you. She had never been one to yell at you, to punish you. You didn’t recognize her and all you could do was cry. Wanda, who had been the one to finally retrieve you from the crashing helicopter, was looking from afar, worry bubbling inside of her.

“I am so disappointed in you! I thought you knew better. What the hell were you thinking, huh?” She demanded, her tone not easing up in the slightest. You couldn’t reply, frozen with fear as tears cascaded down your face, sobs that you tried to silence falling from your lips. “You could have died! You could be f*cking dead right now!” Her face was slack, too void of emotion, eyes harsh and demanding.

“I’m s-sorry”, you lamented, stuttering your way though the words. “I’m sor-ry”, you tried again but she didn’t listen to you. She was unable to react to your sobbing in any way.

“What am I going to do with you?” Natasha bemoaned, truly feeling desperate. She co*cked her head, crouching down a bit to try to gain your attention. “You want me to lock you up in your room for good? Is that it? What do I have to do to make you stop?” She bellowed helplessly, her movements abrupt and threatening. You wailed loudly, too scared to move from your spot in front of your mother. She was going too far.

“Enough, Natasha, that’s enough”, Wanda said sternly, grasping her arm only for Natasha to swing her fist at her. Wanda didn’t always present herself as someone not to be messed with. She was on the softer side and she liked that, but if anyone was going to swing fists in her face she would put a stop to it immediately. Wanda’s eyes flashed crimson, her magic wrapping around Natasha’s wrists as she pinned her into the nearest wall.

“You have made your point”, Wanda hissed, Natasha’s head thudding into the unyielding wall, the woman practically feeling her brain jolt inside her skull at the impact. “She’s sorry”, Wanda growled angrily, her forearm pressing down on Natasha’s chest to keep her flat against the wall. “Now, you’re going to go take a hike and you leave the child alone”, she muttered definitively, emphasizing the fact that you were indeed just a small child and Natasha’s behavior was more than inappropriate. Wanda’s tone was noticeably lower, much more threatening than the tone you were used to hearing from her. She was always so gentle and happy.

You looked away from the two arguing women, focusing on your ragged breath that made your chest hurt, large hands wrapping around your torso, pulling you off the floor. It was Tony. You recognized his stubble against your cheek as he picked you up into his arms, tucking your face into his neck.

“Shh, there, there”, he whispered in your ear. “Keep breathing, peanut”, he instructed gently, walking away from the scene to provide you a more comfortable environment. “Take a deep breath with me, okay?” He said quietly, trying to sound bright despite the situation you were in. You inhaled as deeply as you could, clutching onto Tony for dear life. He took you to the large windows facing the forest to where the sun was starting to set, turning his back to it so you could look outside over his shoulder and possibly find something else to think about as he bounced you repetitively in an attempt to soothe you. After a good while of Tony bouncing you, you started to grow calmer, your sobs dying down, tears beginning to dry up.

“Mommy hates me”, you whispered, staring ahead at the treetops that were starting to look two dimensional in the stark contrast of the sky.

“No, mommy does not hate you”, Tony denied immediately, pulling away from your embrace to look at your tear-stained, puffy face.

“Yes, sh-she does”, you insisted, nodding your head as tears continued to trickle down your cheeks.

“No, absolutely not. Mommy loves you so much”, he assured you. “Mommy just got scared”, he explained. “Mommy loves you so, so much and she thought you were going to die”, he continued, caressing your jaw with his free hand. Truth be told, for a second, he too had thought you were going to die and he understood the pure terror that was behind Natasha’s behavior. “Your mommy is so scared right now that she’s not herself”, he reasoned, his voice gentle. “She would never hate you.”

“But- but”, you whined, Tony interrupting you.

“No buts, pumpkin. We are all going to calm down for a while and then mama is gonna apologize and you are gonna apologize and it’ll all be okay.” Or so he hoped at least. He had never seen Natasha so livid, never mind toward a child. That kind of anger was dangerous, something you should’ve never been exposed to at such a young age, especially not by your mother.

“Okay”, you hiccuped, giving in and choosing to believe Tony.

Natasha’s unbridled anger was at its peak, her mind a dangerous mess that blinded her from seeing anything clearly. The fear that loomed in the pit of her stomach was so strong, so stagnant that it made her numb. It made her nauseous. It made her livid. Her rational mind was telling her to stop, telling her to calm down, but she couldn’t get a hold of her emotions. All of it was out of her reach. She watched herself from the outside, yelling at her child until you were too petrified to even move, terrorizing everyone around her with her fury that she couldn’t reign in. She found herself from the gym, beating herself rather than the targets. The raw power she hit the dummies with was almost agonizing, but she needed to get it out of her system. She needed to feel something other than fear.

An hour later she had gotten over her initial dread but that had been replaced by overwhelming shame over her actions. She felt guilty, which enabled her with about a thousand new reasons to loathe herself. She despised what she had done and she couldn’t believe she had taken her anger out on you first, most likely having done irreparable damage to your developing mind. The events of the night were just confirmation of what she already knew. She wasn’t a mother. She was never meant to be one, but it was too late now. You were stuck with her, stuck with the horrible monster that she had always been. Who knew, maybe she would make you into one as well.

Natasha sat in the gym for what felt like an eternity, trembling from both the cold and the fear she couldn’t seem to let go of. She thought over the words she was going to tell you, practicing her apology over and over again in her head until the words got jumbled up in her head and lost all meaning. She was afraid of facing you because she didn’t know what she would do if she was no longer welcome in your life. What if you didn’t want to see her? What if you were scared of her? What would she do then?

“Natasha? Are you in here?” Wanda’s voice echoed in the dark gym. Natasha didn’t reply, hoping from the bottom of her heart that Wanda would go away. She had humiliated herself thoroughly enough. She didn’t want to show her face anywhere. It was quite obvious that everyone was going to take your side and she would just be the awful mother who overreacted and hurt her child. “I know you’re in here”, Wanda continued, walking farther into the gym to where all the sniffling was coming from. She found Natasha from the corner of the room, sitting against a benching chair, her knees drawn to her chest, arms loosely wrapped around them in a hug. Natasha refused to look up at Wanda, staring ahead as if she hadn’t seen her at all.

“She’s asking for you”, Wanda offered, Natasha’s defensive front breaking, brows furrowing as she felt the shame swallow her whole again.

“No”, she whimpered, shaking her head, ever-so determined to keep the tears at bay. “She- shouldn’t”, she hiccuped, letting out a shaky exhale, sniffling again.

“Natasha”, Wanda hummed, her voice filled with empathy as she crouched down in front of her, searching for her eyes that were still staring fervently ahead. “You can’t hide here forever. It’s better to go and apologize sooner than later”, she reasoned, placing her hand on top of Natasha’s in a comforting gesture. “You know she will forgive you”, she tried again after a moment of silence.

“Do I?” Natasha challenged, Wanda sighing at her stubbornness.

“Yes, you do. You’re her mother. She loves you more than anything in the world. She will understand. If not now then maybe later in life”, she assured her, Natasha’s eyes finally connecting with Wanda’s.

“I should stay away from her”, she mumbled angrily.

“No, definitely not that”, Wanda argued immediately. “Sitting here while she waits for you is the worst thing you can do right now”, she said. Natasha knew Wanda was right, but she couldn’t even fathom what she would say to you. She wanted more time so she could give you the perfect apology you deserved. “You are going to get up and you are going to go take care of your little girl”, she said firmly, Natasha giving her an unimpressed look.

“Right”, she muttered, rolling her eyes as she used her arm for support, pulling herself upright, but instead of the step she was going to take to her left she found herself in Wanda’s embrace. Her arms were warm and adamant around Natasha’s upper body, a stark contrast to her own cold and shaky body. Wanda rested her cheek against the side of Natasha’s head, holding the woman with all she had.

“It’s going to be okay”, Wanda whispered, her arms squeezing Natasha closer to her. The redhead didn’t want to be hugged, initially, that is. But she would’ve been lying had she told Wanda not to touch her, to stop hugging her.

“I’m sorry I tried to hit you”, Natasha mumbled, having yet another reason to be embarrassed.

“I know”, Wanda replied softly, already having forgiven her. Natasha bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying, allowing herself to stay in the hug until Wanda pulled away. “You got this”, she said, cupping Natasha’s cheeks for a brief moment to make her look her in the eyes. Natasha nodded, pursing her lips in an attempt to smile, but her grimace was far from it.

When Natasha entered the common living room of the compound everyone else filed automatically out, giving you your privacy. You seemed to be doing okay, your face much less horror-stricken than before. Your lips were still a bit puffy from crying but otherwise you seemed to have calmed down. You were so small, nothing but a baby and Natasha’s heart ached at the sight of you. How could she have lost her temper like that? She approached you with what she hoped was a gentle smile on her face, kneeling on the floor in front of you to be on the same level as you. You observed her carefully, noting that she didn’t seem to be angry anymore. Natasha reached her hand for you, prompting you to come close if you so desired.

“Mama’s not angry at you”, she uttered, her voice barely above a whisper. You stayed put. “I’m so sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to take it out on you”, she explained, squeezing her other hand into a fist against her thigh in an attempt to reign in her tears. She didn’t want to cry. You stayed quiet, features blank. “I’m sorry Y/N”, Natasha tried again, feeling nauseous because you were giving her no indication of what you were feeling or thinking. What if this was irreparable?

She felt herself grow impatient, the frustration and anger starting to flood back into her veins. She wasn’t in control of her emotions, her mask slipping, eyes filling with tears. No, no. She didn’t want to guilt you into forgiveness. It was not fair that way. She knew you hated seeing her sad. Your big heart would never allow you to just watch while your mother cried. She saw the gentle tremor of your lower lip as your brows furrowed in worry, Natasha immediately wiping the tears off her face to avoid benefitting from your incredible empathizing skills.

“Mama’s not angry”, she whispered, her voice wavering slightly.

“You’re not?” You inquired softly.

“No, baby, I promise”, she hummed. You stood up from your spot on the carpet, scuttling into her arms like a frightened cub, emitting a high-pitched wail as you did. Natasha opened her arms to welcome you, relief flooding through her entire being as she tightened her hold on you, completely unable to speak or move, a fresh wave of tears cascading down her cheeks. She was so terrified of losing you, losing any part of you. She had worked so hard to build the relationship you had, sacrificed her own sanity at times to maintain your trust and love toward her. You were the one thing that she couldn’t lose and today she had come dangerously close to it both emotionally and physically.

You cried loudly, your small body jolting in her arms as you let out all the fear and shame of the day. You were completely safe there, safer than you had been in Tony’s arms. Here you were allowed to fall apart and there would never be any negative consequences. You sobbed wholeheartedly, Natasha doing her best to console you with her soothing hands and comforting words.

“I’m sorry!” You cried, your hands clutching her shirt for dear life.

“Shh, baby, shh, it’s okay. I forgive you”, she said softly, pulling away from you to look at your face. You whined out a protest, forcibly keeping yourself close to her, clinging to her as hard as you could. “Okay, okay”, she hummed into your ear. “Mommy will hold you.” She pressed her lips to your cheek, kissing your skin, breathing you in. Her lower lip trembled as her face formed into a pained grimace, forcing herself to silence her sobs. “Ya ljublju tebya, ladno? Mama tak ljubit tebya (I love you, okay? Mommy loves you so much)”, she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Your sobs were starting to die down as you hiccuped quietly against her, snot smearing all over her shirt. Natasha felt a tiny nod against her shoulder.

“Tebya ljublju (I love you)”, you whispered, your body aching from how hard you were holding onto her. You had been so scared, practically terrified of mommy hating you, but she didn’t. She didn’t hate you. She loved you. Natasha waited for the both of you to calm down, rocking you in her arms to soothe you, her mind going over her apology time and time again, trying to choose the best words so you could understand her pain.

“I want you to look at me, malyshka (baby)”, Natasha whispered, pulling back a bit to gain your attention. You had a huge pout on your face and she could see the exhaustion of the day shine through. “I’m sorry”, she uttered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry”, she repeated helplessly, hoping her apology would be enough. There was nothing else she could say. There was no way for her to justify her behavior. She waited for your reaction, the silence stretching on and on. Natasha’s eyes welled with tears as she held your gaze, watching you observe her as you brought your hands up to cup her cheeks, clumsily wiping her tears away. It broke her heart, yet your gesture comforted her immensely.

“Shh, mama, don’t cry”, you mumbled, wiping off her tears again, but it only made Natasha want to cry ten times harder. Your hands grew more aggressive with each new tear that trickled down her cheek, your frustration making Natasha let out a watery chuckle.

“Okay, honey. Mommy won’t cry anymore”, she whispered, forcing herself to keep the tears at bay. Her words made you smile and you fell against her chest in an embrace, Natasha’s arms tightening around you. You felt warm and safe there. Everything was going to be okay. You were sure of it. “Would you want to come sit with me on the couch?” She suggested, still feeling the need to explain her outburst to you a bit more in depth. She wanted you to understand because she couldn’t think of anything worse than your relationship faltering because she didn’t offer you an explanation.

“I wanna stay here”, you mumbled, squirming slightly to get more comfortable.

“Honey, I’m not going anywhere”, she hummed softly into your ear. “We would just move to the couch”, she clarified.

“Okay, go”, you whispered, chuckling as Natasha stood up from the floor a bit clumsily with you in her arms, carrying you to the couch. She lay down onto the cushions, keeping you secure on her chest as she faced. the ceiling, her hands rubbing your back gently.

“Do you know why mommy got so angry?” She inquired, her voice low and gentle, fingers carding through your hair.

“You’re scared”, you whispered, adjusting your head on her chest, the even thud of her heart hollow and soothing.

“That’s right, angel”, Natasha crooned, caressing your arms that were left bare by your t-shirt. “And sometimes when you’re really scared or really angry you can’t control it”, she explained to you, her eyes fixed on the ceiling above. “Have you ever felt that way?”

“I’m not sure”, you hummed, lifting your head off her chest to look at her. Natasha tilted her chin down to face you. “When I threw that Barbie at you.” Your face conveyed your puzzlement but Natasha was proud of you for trying to identify your feelings. “And I hurt you. Is it like that?” You asked hopefully, Natasha offering you a smile as she cupped your cheek.

“Yes, something like that. You didn’t mean to hit me in the face, right?” You shook your head no. “Just like I didn’t mean to yell at you”, she replied. “Sometimes we do things that we don’t mean to do when we’re hurt or scared”, she explained, observing the way your face contorted into a focused frown as you processed the information.

“So… you were hurt”, you stated, Natasha nodding her head for confirmation. “And you didn’t know what to do.”

“Yes. Mommy lost control of her emotions”, she whispered.

“Am I really grounded?” You asked suddenly, your face dropping, showing Natasha just how upset it made you.

“No, honey. You’re not grounded, but…” She inhaled deeply, briefly gathering herself. “You need to promise me something.” You seemed to perk up a little at her words, listening carefully.

“What?”

“Never do something like that again… please”, she said quietly, her voice wavering, eyes burning with tears again. “You can’t get hurt”, she whispered. “I won’t survive if you do”, she whimpered. “You have to promise me, Y/N”, she did her best to sound stern but to her own ears she only sounded like she was begging. “You have to promise mommy”, she repeated, feeling her throat close up.

“I promise.” You held her gaze, watching the tears start to brim in your mother’s eyes.

“Pinkie promise?” Natasha asked, bringing her hand between you, offering her pinkie to you. A smile spread on your face. You loved pinkie promises, immediately digging your hand up from somewhere between the couch and Natasha. Your balance faltered a bit but you were eventually able to hook your finger with hers.

“I pinkie promise”, you said firmly, nodding your head.

“Thank you”, Natasha sighed in relief, her hand stroking your body comfortingly. You dropped your head back down on her chest, your eyes automatically fluttering shut. You would need a big nap after all that chaos and what better place to do that than your mommy’s arms as she gently petted your hair or caressed your cheek. You were forgiven and you were loved regardless of your actions.

Needless to say you toned down your delinquency by a lot after the helicopter incident, deciding to be a bit more careful with your actions, not because you weren’t fearless anymore but because you saw what it did to your mother. You had also heard that Tony had found himself going one on one against the Black Widow and just for his sake you hoped it would not happen again because Natasha had quite unabashedly kicked his ass in the gym and left him with a bruised heinie.

Chapter 14: It’s a big, bad world

Chapter Text

There was a knock at your door, your head turning toward the noise. “Come in”, you mumbled briefly, moving your T-Rex across the wide balcony of your princess castle, letting out a growl.

“Hi, sweetheart”, Natasha hummed softly, getting inside the room, coming to sit down next to you. You didn’t really pay any attention to her, your dinosaur pushing a Barbie off the balcony.

“Oh”, you sighed grimly. “Do you think she’s dead?” You asked her, Natasha smiling softly.

“No, honey, she’s okay”, she assured you, reaching her hand for your arm to gain your attention. “Could we talk for a moment?” You turned around properly, nodding your head. “There’s something we need to go over before your big day tomorrow”, she started, trying her best to not seem so grave, but the topic was very difficult for her for personal reasons. She hated, despised, loathed that the day had finally come but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“What?” You asked innocently, coming closer to her.

“Do you want a hug?” She asked suddenly. You could always use a hug, you were a notorious hugger and Natasha knew that. You nodded your head, walking between her legs as she sat on the floor, falling into her embrace. Natasha wanted to cave, she wanted to drop the conversation more than she wanted anything else at the moment, but she couldn’t. She pulled away from you to see your face. “Do you know why mommy is allowed to hug and kiss you?” She asked softly, her hands caressing your body in a way to soothe the both of you even if you didn’t really need it.

“No, why?” You frowned. You couldn’t really understand. You had just always hugged mommy and it was always okay. You loved her and you enjoyed her attention, unable to even fathom not wanting her touch.

“Because mommy has your permission, your consent, okay?” You nodded, seeming to follow along. “But if you don’t want a hug or a kiss from mommy you say no and push her away, got it?” You had a confused frown on your face. You couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t want a hug from mommy. “Now, let’s say you don’t want me to hug you”, Natasha started firmly. “But I do so anyway.” She tugged onto your hands, trying to go in for a hug. “What do you do?”

“No”, you said immediately, pushing her away although you seemed a bit hesitant, not truly grasping what she was saying.

“Good, good girl. That’s exactly what you need to do”, Natasha sighed, glad you seemed to at least listen to her even if you didn’t fully understand why. Then you immediately skidded back onto her lap with a smile on your face.

“Mommy, why are we doing this?” You inquired, clearly not understanding and truth be told Natasha never wanted you to understand.

“Because there are bad people in the world and you are allowed to have control over who touches you”, she whispered. “Now, if someone does this at school or anywhere for that matter, you tell a trusted adult about it. That can be a teacher or someone at home. And then you tell me. You always tell mommy”, she watched you nod your head. “Let’s go over it again, okay?” She suggested, moving you to stand on your own. “You don’t want a kiss”, she stated, her hands already tugging you close enough for her to reach. “But mommy tries to kiss you anyway. What do you do, honey?” She asked, allowing you a window to think about your answer.

“I say no”, you replied, clearly thinking over your answer. Then you pushed Natasha’s face away from you before her lips could press down on your forehead.

“Good, excellent job. Then what?” She prompted, feeling nervous. She wanted you to get it right. She needed you to get it right.

“I go tell the teacher”, you said.

“Who else?”

“Mommy. Always mommy”, you said firmly.

“It doesn’t matter who wants to hug or kiss you, you can always say no, even to mommy”, she explained, noting how her tone grew weaker, her throat feeling constricted. “And never kiss someone on the lips. Only mommy and only if you want to”, she said sternly, emphasizing her point. You nodded again. There were times when you also kissed Wanda on the mouth, or Steve but now that you were getting older it was starting to become less of a habit. It never bothered Natasha, nor would it bother her if you continued it but it was the easiest option to exclude everyone else but herself. Including others in the mix could easily confuse you and she didn’t need that. “One more thing, okay? Then I’ll let you go back to playing”, she hummed with a soft smile that you returned immediately. It broke Natasha’s heart to be even thinking about such things but she ploughed through. She took a deep breath gathering herself briefly before continuing to talk. “Do you know what your private parts are?”

“Like my butt?” You questioned, not sure if you got it right.

“Yes, sweetheart, your butt. And what do you have in the front?”

“vagin*”, you nodded. You knew that. Mommy had taught you that.

“Yes, good! And what do boys have?”

“Penis”, you nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. No one is allowed to touch your private parts, you hear me? No one. Not mama, not your friends, not the teacher. No one”, she said, her voice quivering but it didn’t seem like you really noticed it. “Do you understand me?” She asked firmly, her eyes staring right at your own. You seemed a bit flustered as you nodded. “Can you tell me that?”

“No one is allowed to touch my butt or vagin*”, you repeated.

“That’s right. And it goes for you too. You do not touch anyone’s private parts even if they ask. You do not kiss or hug anyone if they don’t want it. It doesn’t matter how much you want a hug or a kiss. If they don’t want it, you respect that, got it? Always ask for permission”, she added, her thumbs brushing over the tops of your hands as she held them in her own.

“Yes. I don’t touch private parts and I have to ask for permission when hugging and kissing”, you repeated, showing her you understood.

“Good! Amazing job, baby”, Natasha cheered quietly, welcoming you into a hug. “You’re the smartest, brightest, most excellent little girl in the world”, she praised, holding you tightly against her as you giggled. “Now you can go back to playing”, she said, patting your back gently. You pulled away, scrambling back to your toys before you paused. You turned back around and ran to Natasha again.

“Can I have a kiss?” You asked, grinning brightly. You were a quick learner, Natasha unable to hold her smile.

“Of course you can”, she mumbled, pecking your lips before you were once again off to your princess castle. With a heavy sigh Natasha stood up from the floor, walking to the door. She shut it behind her, bringing her trembling hands to cup them over her mouth. Her eyes slid shut, nausea taking over her. She felt awful and disgusting. She felt like she couldn’t breathe as she tiptoed across the hall into her own bedroom, sinking into the sheets to recover from the emotional toll the task had taken. Her hot tears decorated the pillowcase with dark blotches, her runny nose making her even more irritated. She could never truly protect you from the horrors of the world. She could never ensure that you stayed safe at all times and that was just the harsh truth of the world.

At that moment Natasha felt very lonely. She didn’t have anyone to share her struggles with. She contemplated her options, knowing she could call anyone in the compound to babysit you for a second while she went outside for some air or went to see a friend, but she knew she didn’t want that. She wanted more than a friend. She wanted someone to take care of her. She wanted someone to hold her until she felt better. However, she scratched the idea very quickly, deeming herself to be in too vulnerable of a state which elicited these pathetic thoughts in her head. She didn’t need anyone else. She was perfectly fine taking care of you alone, but she couldn’t help but to wonder who was going to take care of her?

Once the tears had dried Natasha fed you, bathed you, and dressed you for bed, kissing you good night. She did it all a bit earlier than usual because she needed more time for herself and you needed more sleep than normal to get yourself through the following day. Natasha stayed up in her bed, wallowing in her sadness, mindlessly watching a show on her computer, although she wasn’t really watching it at all. Her mind kept returning into her past, picking out the worst moments of her life, the image of them happening to you on repeat. She hated it. She hated herself for choosing to be your mother. You deserved so much better than her. You deserved a real family, not some pathetic wanna-be mother who never even got to play house as a child. Natasha slammed the laptop closed, sliding it to the foot of the bed so it was out of her way. She popped a sleeping pill into her mouth, flushing it down with some water before cuddling into her sheets. She was tired of being awake.

Few hours later Natasha heard a quiet creak at the door, soft pads of feet sounding in the dark, luring Natasha out of her light slumber. It was followed by a sniffle and a tug of her duvet. She rolled around to the side you were standing on, eyelids fluttering open.

“Mommy”, you started in a quiet whisper. “Mama, I’m scared”, you tried again, still yanking on her sheets, your other hand wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “Mama”, you spluttered quietly.

“What is it, baby?” She whispered just as softly.

“School”, you whined, trying to hold in your tears. Your voice was small, wavering. Tomorrow was going to be your very first day of school and you were more than nervous. Mama had explained it all to you many times but the idea sounded very, very scary to you. “Mama, khochy (Mama, I want)”, you whimpered, doing grabby hands for her.

“Oi, solnishka (sunshine), come here.” Natasha sighed, using her arm to pull you up onto the bed. You hiccuped quietly as she lifted the duvet up to welcome you into its safety. A sad mewl left your lips as you fell into her open arms.

“Mommy”, you cried, tears streaming down your face again. “Mama”, you whimpered, ragged breath making you cough lightly.

“Shh, baby girl, shh, mommy is right here”, she said soothingly, reaching to turn on the nightstand light because she knew it brought you comfort. “It’s going to be okay, angel”, she assured you, resting her chin on top of your head as you gripped her silky nightgown, nuzzling into her chest for both warmth and safety. Natasha knew you weren’t going to stop until you found a distraction to take your mind away from the nerves and butterflies that were plaguing your little tummy, so she began to sing.

“A ya igrayu na garmoshke, u prokhozhikh na vidu (And I play the accordion in front of everyone on the street).” Her voice was melodic and low, the melancholy tune one that you had heard a thousand times. It was one of Natasha’s go-to lullabies. Possibly because it was one of the only ones she had been able to remember six years ago or perhaps because it was close to her Russian origins. Nonetheless, she had always liked it. She seemed to gravitate more towards melancholy tunes and found them calming. “K sozhaleniyu, den' rozhdeniya tol'ko raz v godu. (Alas, birthdays are only once a year)”, she continued, her singing turning into humming as she filled in the instrumental part.

You didn’t even notice yourself calm down as your head rested against her upper chest where you could best hear the rumble of her voice. You no longer used pacifiers, but you wanted the comfort of it, stuffing your thumb into your mouth to suck on it. Natasha automatically thought about pulling the thumb out of your mouth like she often did but decided against it, not wanting to remove the small bit of comfort you had found. You let out a hum of contentment, closing your eyes as Natasha’s warm hands smoothed over your pink teddy bear nightie, sinking into the hairs at the back of your neck to caress your head as she continued to hum the song, mind struggling to remember the lyrics. She held you there until you fell asleep and made sure to keep holding you throughout the night. Natasha breathed in the top of your head, listening to the gentle huffs of your breath.

“I love you, my darling one”, she mumbled, her eyelids trying to fight off the sleep that was about to take her. “Mama tebya ljubit, tebya tak ljubit (Mama loves you, loves you so much)”, she whispered, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “You’ll do great in school”, she assured herself, trying to pretend that she herself wasn’t scared of letting you go.

Morning emerged in the blink of an eye, Natasha’s alarm clock going off, effectively waking you both up. You nuzzled yourself into the pillow, refusing to wake up yet, Natasha doing the same. It was endearing how much you behaved like her sometimes.

“Come on, milaya (honey). Time for school”, she mumbled, voice heavy with sleep as she patted your back. You let out a whine of protest. “Let me see my baby”, she whispered, tickling your side a bit to get you to turn around. You had a huge pout on your lips, groggy eyes glaring up at her.

“I don’t wanna go”, you said firmly.

“I know, sweetie, but it’s going to be so much fun”, she tried encouragingly. “You’re gonna meet lots of other little girls who you can play with”, she tried again, but you didn’t seem to like the idea.

No amount of words could get you out of bed so eventually Natasha just hoisted you into her arms and carried you into the bathroom. She set you down on the toilet where you peed, wearing a grumpy frown on your face. Your hair was styled to look a bit more neat before your teeth were brushed. Your clothes you had picked out the day before and were reluctantly yanking them on as Natasha made you breakfast. You left the apartment right on time, Natasha watching you sulk the whole way to your school in the backseat of her car. She had done her research very thoroughly and ended up choosing a private elementary school from the Upper West Side of Manhattan. She had stressed herself into tears over which school to pick only to realize that she made it hard on purpose because she was so scared of letting you out into the real world. Eventually she had just chosen one that seemed like it would fit you and your needs the best.

Natasha pulled up to the curb, parking her car on the side of the street, a block away from your school. She opened the back door for you, unbuckling the straps of your car seat. You seemed very tired and overall unenthusiastic about the whole situation, but you didn’t protest when Natasha lifted you out of the seat. She picked up your small, glitter backpack, sliding it on you before she grasped your hand, closing the door as she crouched down before you.

“You’re going to be okay, darling”, she assured you once again. “Mama’s gonna come pick you up in six hours”, she reminded you. “And the teachers have mama’s number if you need to call me”, she said in a quiet whisper. You nodded your head, the slight sheen that covered your eyes tugging at Natasha’s heartstrings. She nearly teared up herself. “Let’s go take a picture for everyone at home”, she said, her voice conveying excitement to get you into a bit more of an uplifted mood. “We’ll show them what a big girl you are”, she hummed, pleased that a smile was starting to form on your lips. You nodded your head, Natasha guiding you to the front gate of the school, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of you.

“Do I say cheese?” You asked knowingly, Natasha smirking.

“You can say whatever you want”, she replied.

“Ice cream!” You exclaimed, smiling for the camera as you clutched the straps of your backpack. The flash of the camera went off and the picture was taken. “Let me see!” You rushed to Natasha’s side, watching how she pulled it up from her gallery.

“You look so beautiful”, she hummed, kissing your head as you peered down at the picture. She could tell that you were getting warmed up.

Hand in hand you made your way up the steps, entering the large building. You immediately looked around, studying your surroundings as Natasha navigated your way to the teacher in charge of the first year pupils. They spoke for a while as you observed the other kids in the lounge, clearly intrigued by the sight of so many tiny humans like yourself. But when it came time for you to say goodbye you started to panic. You held tightly onto Natasha’s leg, scared of letting go. She was going to leave you here and this time there would be no Tony, Wanda, Steve or Clint. You would be all alone with these complete strangers.

“Baby, I promise I’ll be back before you know it”, Natasha said, looking down at your eyes that were brimming with tears, her fingers brushing back some of your hair. She pried you off her leg, kneeling to the floor and bringing you into her embrace. You clung onto her like a koala bear, your face buried in her neck where you felt warm and safe. You wrapped your legs around her waist, the tears spilling over as you sobbed quietly. “Hey, no need to cry”, Natasha whispered to you. “It’s just a couple of hours.” She rubbed your back, waiting for the crying to cease. “We’ll do something fun in the evening when you come home, okay?” She suggested. “How about we make your favorite food for dinner?” You pulled back at that, your huge eyes studying her face for a second before you nodded.

“And ice cream?” You asked in a little whimper.

“You’ll get all the ice cream in the world”, she promised you, both of you smiling. “Now, give mama one more kiss.” You giggled quietly, pecking her on the lips before falling into her embrace once more. Natasha pressed her lips into your hair, kissing you a few more times.

School ended up being incredibly fun. After you had gotten over your initial temper tantrum and feelings of abandonment you were able to partially relax in the new environment. You never knew how much fun kids your age could be. At first you struggled to talk to anyone, but after a couple of games that you all played together you found it much easier. There were so many new things that you felt overwhelmed by it, but what shocked you the most was how fast the day was over. Before you knew it, just like mama had said, she came looking for you. However, you weren’t happy about it. You held a grudge toward mommy for leaving you alone, no matter how many times it had been explained to you. Upon arrival, unlike she had expected, Natasha was faced with a grumpy frown and a whole lot of sulking. She didn’t even get a greeting from you which she tried to push aside, feeling a bit rejected, but she wasn’t going to force you to give her the affection she desired. The car ride was silent and so was most of the afternoon. Natasha wasn’t really sure what to do.

“Sweetheart”, she tried, knocking on your door. You had been alone in your room for over an hour. In any other circ*mstance Natasha would have been okay with giving you your space but she was starting to get worried because you weren’t just generally upset but rather upset with her. “I made you a small snack”, she said through the door, hearing some shuffling from the other side.

“Screw your stupid snack!” You countered angrily, Natasha’s brows shooting up in surprise.

“What was that?” She asked with a lower tone. You didn’t reply to her. “Okay, I’ll be in the living room for when you’re ready to talk”, she noted, leaving you alone.

Natasha was upset. It hurt her that you were mad at her. She had never intended to offend you. If she had had things her way you would have never gone to school and you would spend your whole life in her arms where she could keep you safe and sound, but she knew she couldn’t have that and she knew it wasn’t reasonable. So she sat down on the couch, turned the TV on and opened up a bottle of wine, pouring herself half a glass. Realistically, she knew you were perfectly fine but she couldn’t help the maternal instincts that were whirring inside of her, screaming at her to do something, yet she didn’t. The teacher had told her about your day and said you did more than well for your first day away from home. Natasha would give you your time to work out your feelings. She ate your snack herself, the peanut butter sandwich exceptionally delicious, but it wasn’t enough to uplift her spirits and neither was the wildlife documentary that played on the TV.

A little over half-past six your door finally creaked open and you tiptoed into the conjoined kitchen and living room. Natasha heard you but paid you no attention. You went into the kitchen, tugging open the fridge, only to discover that there was no snack for you. In pure confusion you padded over to the couch to Natasha, frowning slightly.

“You ate my snack”, you accused immediately, Natasha’s gaze turning to you.

“I thought you didn’t want it”, she replied. Tears welled up in your eyes as you hit her leg as a way to express your anger. It didn’t hurt, but Natasha certainly didn’t appreciate the gesture. “Do not hit me. We’ve been over this”, Natasha said sternly. Your lower lip trembled dramatically as you finally broke down, the tone of her voice turning out to be your final straw.

“I wanted snack”, you cried, sinking to the floor.

“Baby, we can make you a new one”, she reasoned, scooching to the edge of the couch to get closer to you.

“No!” You sobbed loudly, now laying on your back, legs sprawled on the carpet and hands wiping the tears on your face. Your cries were loud and agonizing, but because Natasha recognized your behavior she had learned not to work herself up. You were having a meltdown over the stressful day that was starting to be behind you and you simply needed an outlet, and the outlet of your choice happened to be your vocal chords.

“Myshenka (little mouse)”, Natasha whispered in a soothing tone, sliding off the cushions to the floor. You stopped wailing, your chest heaving as you paused for a moment, looking at mommy. Your brows furrowed again as you were reminded of the way she had left you all alone with the strange lady at school, a fresh wave of sobs falling from your lips. “Shh, Y/N, honey. It’s alright”, Natasha tried to assure you, but you didn’t seem to agree with her statement. She didn’t touch you, nor did she try to talk to you anymore after that. She simply sat beside you as you cried and wriggled on the floor, staying there for you in case you wanted her support and comfort.

A couple of minutes later you crawled up into a sitting position, wiping your itchy eyes fervently from the almost dried up tears. Natasha’s gaze turned to you, your eyes meeting for a moment before you ducked your head.

“You left me”, you mumbled almost incoherently. 


“I know, baby”, she whispered. “But that’s how it’s going to be from now on. I can’t be with you at school”, she explained softly, keeping her tone low and comforting.

“Why?” You asked bitterly.

“Because mama already went to school and now it’s your turn”, she said, offering a small smile to you. “You want to learn to count and write, don’t you? Do arts and crafts? Learn anything and everything about the world?” She asked, finding it difficult to look for another perspective on the situation, one that you hadn’t heard yet. You seemed hesitant at first, but after doing some thinking, you nodded “That’s the only place you’re gonna learn all that”, she reasoned. You gnawed at your lower lip, something Natasha did quite often when stressed, huffing in frustration.

“Why can’t we do that here?” You inquired persistently.

“Do you know what socializing means?” She prompted, knowing you didn’t. You shook your head. “That’s when people meet and spend time with other people. That’s how you develop important communication skills. Do you know what those are?” Once again you shook your head. “You learn to talk to people, you learn to understand others”, she explained to you, watching you focus completely on her. She knew you were an intelligent kid who thrived on knowledge. She recognized a piece of herself in you and saw the curious little child. For her, the curiosity had been snuffed out by the horrors of the world, but for you, for you it could open doors to just about anything.

“Just like you and me”, she continued. “We didn’t always know how to communicate”, she said, your brows furrowing in surprise.

“That’s just silly”, you giggled, Natasha smiling back at you.

“When you were a baby”, she hummed, demonstrating your small size with her hands. “You we’re about this small”, she chuckled. “We didn’t know how to communicate. You cried and you cried, and mama didn’t know what to do.” You seemed to find that amusing, your smile widening. “We had to learn to communicate without talking because you didn’t know how to yet.” Natasha paused, nearly falling into reverie, realizing to pull herself back from her thoughts. “But eventually we figured it out and now we do know how to talk to each other”, she concluded, her arms opening up for you as you crawled into her embrace. “Now you have to learn to do that with others”, she added in a hum, hugging you tightly to her chest.

“But you’ll always come pick me up?” You asked for confirmation.

“I’ll always come pick you up, I promise. You’ll never be left behind at school, or anywhere. I will never leave you”, she assured you, speaking softly into your hair as she rocked you gently side to side.

“Never?”

“Never”, she repeated firmly, her arms tightening around you.

“Will you make chicken nuggets and ice cream for dinner?” You asked hopefully, your ear pressed against her chest, a cheeky smile on your face.

“What? Does your tummy want dino nuggets?” She inquired playfully, poking your belly teasingly. It made you cackle loudly as you tried to avoid the tickling fingers.

“Uh-huh”, you laughed, squirming against her. “And ice cream!”

“What kind?” She asked as if it was the most important question for now, and it really was because it mattered to you.

“Cotton candy!” You squealed, Natasha’s lips blowing raspberries into your neck. She hated the flavor and couldn’t understand why you would like a sugar flavored ice cream but she always bought it for you, knowing it was your favorite.

“Well what are we sitting here for? Let’s go get dinner”, she said, helping you up from her lap. You sprinted into the kitchen, Natasha following after you, an empty wine glass and a small plate in her hand and a wide, relieved smile on her face.

Chapter 15: Hobby-hunting

Chapter Text

“Mama!” You shouted, running into the kitchen to find her. “Mommy, I need help”, you requested, clearly sounding agitated.

“What is it, darling?” She asked, shutting the dishwasher and turning to you.

“The teacher told us we should think about extra-curry stuff”, you explained, seeming very confused as you handed a sheet of paper to her.

“Extra-curriculum?” She asked for confirmation, biting back the smile from her face. You nodded firmly.

“She said we could play sports or something”, you mumbled. “But I don’t like ball games”, you reasoned, not knowing what other options you had.

“Let’s see”, Natasha hummed, pulling up a chair for herself, sitting down as you did the same. “There are lots of options. You said you didn’t want ball games, yeah?”

“Yeah”, you sighed, peering at the paper that had so many words that you weren’t familiar with yet.

“How about gymnastics, dance or cheerleading?” She suggested, but you didn’t seem too interested. “They also have a couple of art options. You could do fine arts, that’s painting and drawing, or maybe pick up an instrument?” Natasha skimmed through the list, looking for the options that she thought might interest you.

“Oh! Could I play a bassoon?” You asked in excitement, Natasha a bit surprised that you knew such an instrument.

“I’m sure we could find you a teacher somewhere”, she hummed, a small amused smile playing on her lips.

“Or a harp! Like in Aristocats!” You exclaimed, starting to get more excited.

“Honey, I don’t think your school provides harp lessons. You might have to choose something a bit more traditional like piano or violin”, she reasoned.

“Never mind”, you groaned. “What would you choose?” Natasha eyed the list yet again, studying the options.

“Ballet”, she uttered definitively. “I used to love ballet”, she said.

“Did you do ballet in your school?” You asked in curiosity. Natasha didn’t talk much about her childhood and when she did she only mentioned vague things like her interests or Aunt Yelena.

“Yeah, we all did. It was mandatory”, she replied, brushing her hand over your hair in an indirect way of soothing herself.

“What’s mandatory mean?”

“It means everyone has to do it”, she said.

“Even boys?” You asked in surprise.

“No, mommy went to an all-girls school.”

“Why?” There were many things you couldn’t understand but your mother was perhaps one of the biggest mysteries to you and the more you spent time at school with other kids, the more you understood that you didn’t come from a traditional family. You didn’t seem to have a father, or grandparents. Most other kids had siblings or pets, but you had none. Although what you did have were the Avengers. You had witches and gods of thunder. You had magic and science.

“I don’t know”, she hummed, her response sounding a bit too curt to you so you dropped the subject.

“Do you think I could do ballet?” You looked down at your hands on the tabletop, fiddling with your fingers as you swung your feet above the floor.

“I know you could. You can try it out with me and see if you like it. How does that sound?” Natasha sounded much brighter now, and you felt pretty excited about trying out your very first hobby. After dinner and a moment of sleepy cartoons on the couch, you got to go to the gym at the compound where Natasha often danced. There was a long floor to ceiling mirror and a barre on the left wall of the room. The space was huge and one of the walls was a single window into the woods surrounding the compound. The view would have been quite beautiful but it was getting too dark outside.

“Can you dance for me first?” You asked, letting go of Natasha’s hand.

“Sure”, she nodded, moving over to the side where she plugged her phone into the speakers. She chose a song for herself, pressing play before walking in front of you, where you were sitting against the mirror. The room was filled with soft, beautiful music, the melancholy tune all you could hear. Natasha hadn’t planned anything, simply improvising something that she thought would suit the music. She hadn’t danced properly for a good while since getting you but she was starting to find the time for it once again. Her ankles were definitely a bit rusty but she enjoyed the pain nonetheless.

You observed her every move, watching how she rose to en pointe, standing on her toes only. You noted how she could balance herself on her left toes, her other leg high up in the air. You marveled at the way her back arched, her arms elegant and delicate in every move. You watched her spin and twirl. She did a couple of jumps here and there, her feet moving so fast in entrechat that you couldn’t even process it. She did chaine turns, spinning across the floor, landing a grand jete and finishing in fifth position. She curtsied for you, turning the music off to hear you clap vigorously at her. You couldn’t believe her talent. You had never really seen her dance before because it was something Natasha preferred to do alone.

“You’re so good!” You cheered, getting up and running to hug her. Natasha wiped her tears slyly with her fingers, the dancing having stirred up an emotional response to the situation. Something that she had not expected. There was something about it, something about exposing that side of her to you that made her feel grim and dark.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you so much”, she hummed, crouching down a bit to kiss the top of your head. “Does that still seem like something you would want to try?” She inquired and you nodded your head. “We’ll start at the barre”, she said in determination.

You found it extremely difficult to stand up straight the way your mama was telling you to do. Constantly, there was something wrong in the way you were standing, whether it was your butt sticking out or your back being too hunched. You weren’t able to hold your arms the way she showed you to pose them. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like it one bit.

“Turn your toes outwards, like this”, Natasha told you, showing how she spread her feet open, purposely not going as wide as she could so she wouldn’t unnecessarily frustrate you by not being as flexible as someone who had a lifetime of training behind. You did as she had done, your knees bending as you did so. It was impossible. It was all impossible because now your butt was sticking out again and you were in an incorrect position. “Remember what mommy said about your core?” You did remember. You needed to squeeze your tummy tight, tense the muscles there to keep yourself upright but it was so, so hard.

“Mommy”, you whined, slumping to the floor, completely giving up on first position. “I hate ballet”, you admitted. “When do I get to spin? This is so boring and so hard”, you complained, not wanting to look up at her as you sat on the floor. She crouched down in front of you.

“I know, solnishka (sunshine). If you’re not interested we can just stop here. At least you know that ballet is not for you”, she said softly, silently thanking the heavens that you didn’t like it because after doing a little thinking of her own she realized that she wanted you nowhere near it.

“But what about my extra-curricu- stuff?” You asked, your huge eyes looking at her with a sad frown.

“We’ll find something else, darling. There are lots of other hobbies to try out”, she countered, offering her hand to you to pull you up from the floor.

The next thing you tried was swimming, but this time you didn’t have the choice to quit because you needed to learn how to swim so you wouldn’t drown if you fell into any amount of water. It was kind of like school except you went there once a week and you spent your time shivering by the pool, practicing how to kick your legs underwater. You did get to actually swim as well but it took you a while to figure out. Another thing that frustrated you to tears was the starfish float. Many car rides to home you cried about the stupid starfish float that had made you inhale more than a few mouthfuls of chlorine water. But by the end you had a small graduation ceremony where you got a certificate that declared you could indeed swim a couple of feet without drowning. However, the experience didn’t leave you with an intense desire to enter the pools again which meant swimming was out of the question as well. You revisited the idea of gymnastics a couple of times but it never quite seemed to peak your interests. You tried to play the recorder but that too was stupid and boring, just like nearly every other hobby you had tried.

“You know what you should do?” Clint asked you as you sat on one of the large blocks in the training gym where Natasha and Clint were sparring.

“What?” You asked grumpily, not too pleased about being bored and hobbyless.

“Martial arts”, he quipped, Natasha’s fist swinging at his head, allowing him just a fraction of a second to duck.

“No”, she grunted immediately, glaring at Clint.

“What’s that?” You asked, not really understanding what martial arts were.

“Fighting. Kind of like mommy and me right now”, he explained, a sh*t-eating grin on his face when Natasha flipped him into the mat under them, pinning him down.

“Can I try?” You asked, perking up. You slid off the block, skidding to the edge of the boxing ring. You had always looked up to the intricate choreographies that formed between whoever was fighting in the ring. You wanted to be strong and fast, take down people twice your size, your interest in the activity most likely mediated by your mother’s ability to beat someone into pulp. Not that you had seen her do so. You had only heard things. You knew Natasha’s opinion on combat training and she didn’t like to let you near it so the thought never really crossed your mind.

“No, honeycomb. You’re not getting inside the ring”, Natasha said firmly.

“Come on, let the kid try”, Clint reasoned, Natasha yet again giving him a death stare.

“No”, she said to you, turning to Clint. “You’re a dead bird chirping”, she hissed, but you were already climbing inside the ring. You marched in front of Clint, who had just stood upright, drawing your arm back before punching him square in the belly. He let out a groan, backing away a bit as a wide smirk spread on Natasha’s face. “What did I tell you?” She chuckled.

“I won!” You exclaimed, Natasha shaking her head in amusem*nt.

“Kid’s got a mean punch”, he groaned, straightening himself upright. “Why don’t we start off with the basics?” Clint suggested, crouching in front of you. “Show me your fists.” You did as told, offering both of your hands to him. “Good, never tuck your thumbs inside, keep them here on the sides”, he explained, adjusting your thumbs just a bit. “Now, punch my left hand with your right”, he instructed, gesturing the movement for you. Once again you did as told, Natasha observing you. You punched his palm as hard as you could, giggling quietly as he made a grunting sound.

“Come on, is that all you got?” He asked in a challenge. “Put your entire body weight into the punch”, he directed, the slapping of your hands echoing in the gym. Natasha could see the difference immediately. You enjoyed what you were doing. You were genuinely excited. She took a deep breath. Maybe she should have seen it coming. You grew up with the Avengers after all.

You ended up going to karate class because your school didn’t offer boxing lessons, which you would probably have preferred but Natasha didn’t tell you that. You actually liked karate. It was the perfect way for you to blow off some steam. You were a lively rascal that definitely needed a physical outlet for all that energy and what was even more fun was that you had a slew of fighting partners at home. You had loads of experience in being thrown around by super soldiers and it was something you had always enjoyed.

“Mommy! I wanna show you what we did today!” You exclaimed, still wearing your karate gear after practice as you sprinted into the living room. “Look! Look!” You shouted, Natasha smiling widely as she leaned against the wall to watch. You bounced on your feet in a defensive stance, your fists held up to your chin. “Jab, cross. Jab, jab, cross”, you muttered to yourself as you punched the air in front of you, alternating the fists you were using. Natasha found it so adorable she could’ve melted into the floor tiles right then and there. “And kick”, you huffed, doing a sidekick so wobbly that you needed to grab the coffee table for support. You finished the sequence in a traditional bow toward Natasha.

“Wow, oh my gosh!” She marveled, walking closer to you. “You’ve learned so much already!” She praised, genuinely moved by how excited you were. She felt pride bubble in her chest at how happy you looked. “Come on, let’s see those jabs again”, she hummed encouragingly as she knelt before you, holding her hands up for you to punch. You let out a completely unrestricted laugh of joy, preparing yourself for another round of jabs.

“Good, good, just like that”, she said as you jabbed and crossed, jabbed and crossed. “Remember to move your upper body with your arm to get more strength behind those punches”, she instructed. “Perfect!” She exclaimed when she felt a stronger punch against her hand. “Keep going, sweetheart”, she praised, unable to stop smiling. You hit and you hit until you were out of breath and had to stop. “Good job!” She patted your arm, watching you smile widely.

“Can we try the kick?” You asked, still out of breath.

“Of course, myshka (little mouse)”, Natasha hummed. “Come a bit closer”, she ordered. “Now, you’re going to kick this leg up and while you do so, your upper body leans to the opposite side”, she instructed. She was very familiar with the move and knew exactly how to teach you the basics. She guided the tilt of your upper body, supporting you with her hands as you kicked the air. “Remember to tense your muscles. You can’t do anything if you’re a noodle”, she said, poking your sides, making you giggle. You repeated the move a couple of times until you were noticeably less wobbly. “Don’t aim too high with your leg. We’ll start from a low target”, she instructed, watching you brace yourself in a fighting stance once again. Natasha was actually surprised by how much you had learned from a single class. You kicked her hand, unable to put much force behind your kick but at that point it was more about form than strength.

“Good! You got it”, she cheered. “Slow it down a bit, focus on the balance”, she instructed as your foot connected with her hand again. “Perfect!” You kicked once more before slumping to the floor in exhaustion. Natasha could tell you were thoroughly worn down and she had a feeling there would be no nightly energy spurts before bedtime. “Give me your hands”, she mumbled, crouching a bit closer to you. You did as told, screeching when she yanked you up into her arms in one swift motion, your legs wrapping around her waist.

“Let’s go take a bath so you’ll be all clean for bed”, she said, kissing your cheek. While Natasha set up the bath for you, you pulled off your sweaty clothes, dumping them in the hamper that was overflowing with laundry. You climbed inside the bath even though it wasn’t properly filled yet, Natasha staying with you while you bathed. You were capable of washing yourself without her help but she always stayed just to make sure you didn’t drown. It was an irrational fear because you knew how to swim but the accident from your toddler years had stuck with Natasha very personally and she would much rather sit beside you than worry about you in the kitchen or the living room when she could easily just keep an eye on you in the bathroom. Besides, you didn’t seem to mind her company as you scrubbed your body with a loofa, blabbering about your karate class.

Chapter 16: Joy to the world

Chapter Text

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you barged through her bedroom door, jumping onto her, Natasha letting out a grunt as you crawled over her groggy body. “Let’s go open gifts!” You exclaimed, forcefully grabbing her arm and yanking on it, trying to get her out of bed as she blinked her eyes open. Your manner of waking her was way too energetic for her, Natasha whining quietly.

“Shh, angel, shh, let’s give mommy a moment”, she whispered, moving her body a bit to get it going after laying still for hours. She glanced to her side, a heap of blonde hair buried under the covers, still as a rock. Yelena had come late at night, jet lag and general exhaustion having wiped her out in an instant.

“But soon, right? We’ll open gifts?” You pressed, Natasha chuckling at your enthusiasm as she finally pried her eyes open to see your overjoyed smile. You were so excited. Every single year on Christmas Day morning you would be bursting at the seams waiting to get permission to open the gifts under the tree. Her heart melted at the toothy grin on your face, her hand brushing over your messy head of hair, absentmindedly fixing your twisted up pajamas.

“You’ll get to open the one you chose yesterday before breakfast. Just like every year”, she reminded you. It was a way of relieving the insurmountable excitement over the presents because Natasha knew if you were to first open them all she would have to physically pry the gifts out of your hands so you would have the patience for breakfast and other mundane tasks. Because of that she had let you pick out one gift the day before to open on Christmas morning.

“Okay!” You nodded as soon as the words were out of her mouth, backing off the bed to go back to the presents so you could go get your chosen gift. Natasha burrowed back into her sheets, groaning softly at the comfort of her bed as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Mommy!” Natasha’s eyes snapped open immediately, your face once again in her view. “No more sleeping!” You commanded with a firm frown that she couldn’t find to be anything but adorable. You tugged on her covers with your free hand, the other arm hugging a wrapped up gift. She must have fallen back asleep.

“I’m awake”, she mumbled, stifling a yawn as she sat up a little, patting the bed for you. “Let’s see what you got for Christmas”, she said, making sure she stayed wrapped up in her duvet to avoid the cold that she so desperately didn’t want to feel. “Who’s it from?” She inquired as you climbed onto the bed, your eyes searching for a note on the side of the medium sized box.

“Santa!” In the beginning Natasha hadn’t bothered with Santa Claus, feeling like it was unprogressive to lie to a child about a fat man who brought gifts, but she wanted you to be able to relate to the other kids who would return from the holiday break and brag about everything that Santa gave them. So eventually she had given in and started to play Santa for you, wrapping up gifts with the name of Santa Claus. She had found it to be silly and pointless at first but she could see just how much it did for the mind of a child, the whole lore bringing you so much joy that Natasha had to keep doing it. There was no denying that she actually grew to enjoy it.

“What a great choice!” She marveled, leaning closer to kiss your head. “Let’s see what Santa’s got for you”, she prompted, your hands immediately tearing the wrapping paper into shreds to reveal a toy you had been drooling after for months. There was a loud scream that made Natasha wince as your eyes spread as wide as saucers, both hands grabbing the box of legos.

“Mommy look!” You cried, showing her the box that Natasha had picked out herself a month ago after you had a meltdown over not getting it on a grocery run, Yelena finally starting to stir from all the screaming, but you couldn’t focus on her at the moment.

“Wow, no way! Honey, isn’t that exactly what you wished for?” She asked in astonishment, receiving another scream of excitement and a vigorous nod of your head.

“Yes! I want to show everyone!” You announced, Natasha shaking her head in amusem*nt as you bolted out of the room. Of course you did, but you would have to eat breakfast first.

“Go after her before she comes back”, Yelena grumbled, her foot kicking Natasha’s behind rather forcefully as she turned around to face her sister, huffing at the strand of hair that tickled her face.

“I should ask her to scream one more time for you”, Natasha chuckled, pinching Yelena’s cheek in the most annoying way possible, Yelena slapping her hand away.

After you had gotten over your initial burst of excitement, Natasha managed to make you sit still at the dining table while you ate your breakfast a bit too quickly in Natasha’s opinion, practically inhaling your oats and only nibbling half of a cinnamon roll that you had baked the day before. Once your mouth and hands were wiped clean you went back to marveling at your gift, Natasha moving to the couch to sip her coffee and eat your leftover bun as she watched some Christmas episode of a Disney Channel show, not bothering to change the channel. She decided that it was good to know what media her child consumed, but ten minutes in she was completely hooked on the shenanigans of little Timmy trying to save Christmas. The TV channel and your new Lego set kept both of you entertained for the entire morning, Natasha wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with her coffee watching TV while you tried to figure out how to build the castle according to the rules of the small instructions manual.

“Can Yelena come? And can we ask Tony to come outside too? And what about Wanda?” You asked Natasha as she was zipping up your overalls, finally having succeeded at convincing you to go outside to play so you could get some exercise and fresh air for the day.

“Why don’t you go ask? Make sure you scream in her ear”, Natasha said with a mischievous smirk, patting your bottom in encouragement. You smiled brightly, running into the bedroom where Yelena was still snoozing away. Natasha heard the scream loud and clear, followed by manic giggling and cackling that could only mean that you were being tickled. You returned with messy hair and a wide smile.

“Good job. You can call Tony while mommy ties your shoes”, she suggested as you sat back down in front of her, dialing Tony and handing you her phone. She slid your foot into one of your boots, making sure it was secure before she tightened the laces. You waited for a moment, listening to the beep of the phone, patiently waiting for a response.

“Hi Tony!” You chirped in excitement, Natasha smiling at your wide grin. “Will- will you come outside with me and mommy?” You waited for a second again. “Sledding”, you replied, Natasha slowing down your swinging foot to be able to put your other boot on. “He’s coming!” You shouted, handing the phone to Natasha who brought it to her ear.

“Uh-huh, just bring everyone else too”, she hummed. “So I don’t have to call them”, she chuckled, looking your way as you smiled brightly, pulling on your hat. She ended the call, focusing back on you.

“Everyone is coming!” You shouted. Your volume seemed to be maxed out for Christmas and Natasha was more than glad to take you outside to hopefully expend some of that energy.

You ran into the snow that was up to your waist, laughing like a maniac, Natasha following behind you, dragging a sled. You fell into the snow, swimming in the soft powder, your mother on your heels, wearing a quilted jacket and pants, doing her best to promote appropriate clothes for the weather despite not wanting to wear them. She chased after you, grabbing your waist to pull you back. You screamed loudly, giggling as you fell face first into the snow, Natasha crawling after you, making growling noises. You cackled out a laugh, throwing snow into her face to try to wiggle out of her grasp.

“Come on, let’s go mommy!” You shouted, tugging on the string of the sled to take it to the top of the small hill on the yard, Natasha following in your footsteps. She sat on the sled, welcoming you to sit between her legs, her arms tightening around you to keep you secure. She nudged the sled down the slope, gaining speed steadily, the wind blowing into your faces. You did your best to steer you into a ramp you and Tony had made out of snow, Natasha already grimacing at the painful impact from the drop that was to come. For you it was cushioned by Natasha’s thighs, your bottom avoiding all the bruises. “Again, again, again!” You cheered once the sled came to a stop and you climbed out.

“I see you’ve started without us”, Tony shouted from the yard, bringing his own sled with him that was equipped with all kinds of gadgets that added speed or functioned as brakes. Steve, Wanda and Thor who was visiting for Christmas were behind him, all tugging sleds with them, followed by Bruce and Vision who mostly seemed confused. The final one to arrive was Yelena who was shivering in her boots, her face still groggy from sleep.

“Mommy! We have to race!” You screamed, starting to run into their direction to welcome them. Natasha just smiled, scooping up some snow from the ground and forming it into a ball. She aimed it at your moving figure, chucking the ball and hitting you square in the back. She laughed unabashedly when you turned around to cast a scowl her way.

“I’ll get back at her”, Tony assured you, patting your shoulder. “I’m gonna run her to the ground”, he threatened playfully, scooping snow into his hand and throwing the ball at Natasha who dodged it.

You all lined your respective sleds on top of the hill, listening to you count down before heading down the slope. You did your best to try to push the sled forward to make it go faster but it didn’t. Everyone else was much heavier than you and sped past you without any effort, even Natasha was down before you, Thor winning with ease. That did not suit you. No one else was supposed to win the race. There was a huge pout on your lips as you sat in your sled, your arms crossed.

“Sweetie, why don’t you ride with someone so you’ll have more weight in the sled”, Wanda suggested, patting the top of your hat to comfort you.

“Thor!” You announced, hoping to be on the winning team.

“What an honor!” He announced triumphantly, smiling brightly, all of you dragging the sleds up the hill again to compete in another race. You went down the hill at least ten times until Natasha and Tony clearly got bored, wrestling in the snow, playful shouts and grunts sounding in the air.

“Watch what you say to me”, she snarled, pushing his head into fresh snow as she sat on him, Tony laughing so hard there was snow in his mouth. “Fight back, you wuss”, she chuckled, her front breaking as he laughed even harder at the way she shoved him into the ground again.

“You want me to fight back?” He asked, throwing her off him, the powdery snow puffing as she sank into it. “I’ll fight back”, he assured, grabbing snow and rubbing it in her face. Their wrestling was playful and completely void of any technique, filled with lots of childish kicking and punching, both of them oblivious to the snowball fight that the rest of you were having, your version much more child-friendly. Wanda was trying to explain to Vision everyone’s behavior, guiding him to chuck a snowball at Steve who was using his shield to protect you from all the snow flying you and Yelena’s way. Bruce and Thor were relentless with their outgoing fire, Thor’s large hands making balls twice as big as yours. Thankfully, all of them thudded either into the shield or on Steve and Yelena. The latter ended up leaving the makeshift fort to go take down Thor only to end up face first in a pile of snow.

The play date lasted until your fingers and toes were so cold they felt stiff and painful, the team taking you inside to the communal kitchen where Natasha made hot chocolate for you as you warmed up under the blanket, the rest making warm drinks for themselves as well while Wanda, Vision, Bruce and Steve started to prepare the Christmas Day dinner. You drank your hot chocolate, eating a small snack on the side as you watched some cartoons with Natasha, your head resting against her chest. You chewed on your granola bar, eyes fixed on the screen as Natasha petted your hair absentmindedly, adjusting your blanket to keep you warm. The kitchen was filled with the scent of ham, gravy and potatoes, Christmas lights twinkling in the dim living room as the sun set outside. Tony, Yelena and Thor moping around, none of them, including Natasha, wanted in the kitchen because they were all prone to disaster so you waited patiently on the couch. You showed the men your Lego set, asking their help in building it while Yelena napped on the couch, but it didn’t keep you entertained until dinner, eventually consumed by the overwhelming need to know what the rest of your gift packages contained.

“Okay, how about mommy brings you one more to open before dinner?” Natasha suggested, her hands rubbing your back as you sat on her lap with your puppy eyes, pleading for another gift even though she had told you that you would get to open them after Christmas dinner.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, jumping off her to go choose your next gift to open.

“Woah, that’s a big one”, Tony marveled as you started to tug on the largest present under the gorgeous Christmas tree. You couldn’t wait to open the package that was easily the biggest of them all. You had been ogling at it for the past two hours, already having checked that it was meant for you. Natasha watched you struggle with the gift, allowing you to bring it to the middle of the carpet where you kneeled down, tearing the paper open. There was a loud giggle and some more wrapping paper that got torn apart by your greedy hands before you revealed your gift, a large cardboard box with an image of a two-wheeled scooter on the side. Tony had gotten it for you after Natasha had forbidden him from making you one that he had called an “advanced” scooter.

“What is it, sweetheart?” She asked as if she didn’t know exactly what it was, crouching to the floor to see better.

“Scooter!” You screamed, beaming up at her, the excitement you were feeling almost too much to handle. “Mommy, I got a scooter!” You cried, running into her arms as a way of regulating your emotions and expressing your gratitude. She chuckled quietly at your behavior, embracing you tightly, moved by the joy you were experiencing. Playing Santa was definitely worth it. She pulled back, kissing your forehead, offering you a bright smile.

“Why don’t we get it out of the box?” She suggested, letting go of you so you could start to unbox the gift. With a little help from Tony and Natasha the scooter was assembled and adjusted to your height and you got to test it a little bit on the hardwood floors. Tony gave Natasha an amused glance as you spun around the living room with your scooter, some of your turns rather tight and clumsy. There was a moment when everyone, Wanda, Bruce and Steve included, thought you were going to crash into the Christmas tree, Thor’s quick reflexes stopping the scooter before it had the chance to mangle all the gifts that were still left.

“That’s enough for now”, Natasha ordered, taking the scooter from you and bringing it to the side of the couch where she could make sure you wouldn’t try to sneak it into the halls to continue racing.

“Can I try?” Yelena asked, sounding genuine as she stroked the handles of the shiny, new scooter, Natasha giving her a frown of disbelief. “What, I wasn’t serious”, Yelena grouched, crossing her arms and glaring at Natasha. Yelena was very serious indeed.

You weren’t happy about the confiscation of your gift but you were also pretty tired from wheeling around the living room and a quick break didn’t sound half bad. Despite your mild exhaustion you weren’t capable of sitting still, lingering around the kitchen in the hopes of getting something to eat, Wanda constantly shooing you out because you were in her way and there were lots of hot pans and stoves that could cause unnecessarily dangerous accidents.

“Baby, stop bothering Wanda”, Natasha hollered from the couch, bright red magic shoving you out of the kitchen again, but you only found it entertaining, trying to sneak back time and time again to steal some of the sliced ham from the kitchen island. Steve was in on the game, his expressions always letting you know when the rest of the cooks weren’t watching.

“I’m not bothering!” You countered stubbornly, looking at Steve who was whisking cranberry sauce, smiling at your mischievous attitude. He glanced at Wanda who was adding butter to the mashed potatoes, her back turned to the ham. He gave you a green light by nodding his head, receiving a grin back from you.

“I’m sure that’s not true”, Natasha chuckled, already having heard the way Wanda had scolded you for stealing a green bean.

The poor woman was stressed out of her mind with all the fussing about a Christmas meal even though it had been her idea to make everything from scratch. Natasha’s suggestion had been takeout and everyone except Clint and Wanda had agreed, but he was gone for the holidays anyway, spending it with his own family, yet somehow Wanda still got her way. Dismissing your mother’s words, you snuck back into the kitchen, eyes on Wanda as you grabbed a slice of ham from the plate, skidding back into the living room to hide your prized loot. Natasha eyed the greasy ham that was all over your hands, glancing at the kitchen in thought. She huddled close to you, gaining your attention.

“Go get mommy one of those rolls under the cloth”, she whispered, stealing the rest of your ham, but you were just happy that she was included in your misbehavior. You skidded back into the kitchen, glancing over the island to see that Wanda was still working on the potatoes, Bruce sautéing vegetables and Vision lingering by Wanda like the fool in love that he was. All Steve saw was your small hand sneaking under the cloth that covered the pile of rolls, pulling out one bun at a time. You brought them back to your mother, giggling quietly as you both bit into the warm, lush bread.

“Y/N!” Wanda’s voice sounded from the kitchen a moment later, your eyes widening as you looked at Natasha. “Did you steal my butter rolls?” She asked firmly, Natasha trying not to laugh. She pressed a finger to her lips to gesture for you to be quiet until she had swallowed her bread.

“Did you?” She asked you as if she was about to tell you off for it, but she had a wide smile on her face, putting on a show just for Wanda.

“I didn’t, I swear”, you whined.

“Well, at least one of them is missing”, Wanda argued, looking at the dent in the pile.

“Blame Tony for it, that’s what I do”, Natasha whispered to you, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing.

“It must’ve been Tony”, you stated confidently, Tony perking up at the sound of his name. He was right on the verge of falling asleep to the sound of Thor and Yelena arm wrestling, so far from looking like the culprit that it was almost comical, but Wanda decided to drop the search for a perpetrator, staring to be finished with the dinner.

You all ate together at the long dining table, candles and Christmas lights illuminating the dining area, Pepper arriving just in time for the setting. You loaded your plate with everything Wanda had cooked, Natasha constantly having to remind you that there was no way your stomach could fit all of it, but you were headstrong and ignored her warnings, Yelena doing the same. The room was filled with chatter, Thor asking how your holidays had been going which allowed you to explain all about your karate lessons and the classes you were taking at school. It had been a while since his last visit and you had more than enough to tell him. Natasha was mostly quiet, still not quite used to the serenity of the scene even though it was starting to become a tradition. She never had that growing up, she never even received a single gift as a child, but you had it all. She was able to give you all of it. The gifts, the food, the traditions and most importantly family. You had a huge family, each and every one of them always looking out for you and she couldn’t help but to feel like she had succeeded as a mother for providing you such a healthy environment to grow in. What was even better was that she had someone from her second family with her, Natasha’s eyes landing on Yelena’s face that had a wide grin on her lips as she laughed at something you had said. Natasha never was big on the holidays for obvious reasons, but as she nibbled on her ham dipped in gravy she felt like maybe she could be one of those people who had time for family and silly little traditions.

“Mama, I’m so full”, you whined, turning to her with your heaping plate, a pained frown on your features.

“Milaya, ya zhe tebe govorila. (Honey, I told you so)”, Natasha countered, glancing at Yelena who seemed to be struggling just as much with her three butter rolls that she was stacking on top of each other. “What am I gonna do with you two?” She hummed to herself, shaking her head. “You’re excused, baby. Go play in the living room”, she hummed, wiping your mouth clean with a napkin. “You too, Yelka”, she ordered, both of them fleeing the dining room after thanking Wanda for the delicious meal.

It took you three different occasions of whining until the rest were finished with dinner and agreed to move into the living room to open gifts. You were very efficient in reading each of the name tags, delivering the packages to their rightful owners, your pile of presents seeming to grow in a much faster pace than everyone else’s. That was because the adults cared much less for gifts and had agreed to not make a big deal out of it, settling for the joy of watching you freak out over every single present you opened. You got a large, light brown teddy bear with a chocolate brown nose, leaving him on Natasha’s lap where he too would get to watch. The next present was a bracelet set that allowed you to design your own jewelry, multiple ideas popping into your head in an instant. You got a couple of Barbie dolls and a hot pink car for them, every single item you discovered bringing you so much joy you couldn’t even process it. You also got some regular clothes for school such as jeans with butterflies on the back pockets, an assortment of colorful T-shirts as well as a thick knit sweater. You also received a beautiful designer winter coat from Pepper who absolutely loved picking out clothes for you. Finally, the last gift in your pile ended up being a gorgeous, blue princess gown with a bow in the back, creating it that voluminous backside that you saw in all your favorite movies.

You immediately undressed yourself, throwing your clothes aside and bringing the dress to Natasha so she could help you put it on. The specific shade of blue suited you so perfectly, making you look like a real princess as you twirled in a circle, the hem of your skirt spreading beautifully around you. Natasha felt herself grow emotional but she bit back the tears that didn’t even get a change to form in her waterline. You just looked so stunning wearing that overjoyed smile on your face, the elegant dress only making you more beautiful.

The adults watched you play amidst their own conversations, everyone enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, either snacking on sweets or sipping their co*cktails. Natasha had a hot, buttered rum with a little extra rum, the warm liquid coating her throat, warming her up from the inside. She was sitting on the couch, still holding the bear as she leaned against Steve’s firm bicep, feeling warm all around, tempted to close her eyes and just let go.

“Mama, did you see the Barbie car?” You asked, coming to her for the millionth time to show a detail of one of your gifts. She nodded her head, setting her mug on the coffee table.

“I did”, she hummed, caressing your cheek as she sat upright, smiling softly, your eyes landing on the bear in her arms.

“I have to give him a name”, you stated, clearly in thought, studying the button-eyed teddy that had large fluffy ears and a big, round belly. “Booby”, you hummed, Natasha biting her tongue to keep herself from bursting into laughter. “Do you think it suits him?” You asked, looking up at her.

“I’m not sure if he looks like a Booby”, she mused, the corners of her mouth tugging downwards as she tried not to smile. “Do you have other options?”

“Brownie”, you replied, your hands playing with its round paws, fiddling with the fur. “Because of the chocolate nose”, you explained, booping its nose.

“I think that suits him very well”, she reasoned, petting its head.

“You think so? I like Booby better”, you mused, Natasha already feeling herself give in, but she decided to try one more time.

“Awkward and foolish people are called boobies, honey. Do you think he’s a dumb bear?” She asked you, watching your brows furrow as you thought it through. There was also something else that was called boobies but she didn’t have the heart to make that connection for you.

“He could be dumb”, you countered in defense, Steve muffling his chuckle as he listened to the conversation between you, Natasha sighing at the thought of having to hear you call the teddy a Booby for the following years.

“How about Tubby? Or Buttons?” Steve suggested, deciding to help Natasha out. She gave him a soft glance as a silent thank you.

“Tootsie!” You shouted like a lightning had struck you, Steve’s ideas inspiring you somehow. “Like a tootsie roll!” You explained, grabbing the bear into your arms, Natasha closing her eyes briefly in mild relief. “Tootsie’s gotta meet everyone”, you said, running to Thor who was the nearest to you.

“I’m just glad it’s not Booby”, she sighed, knowing you wouldn’t be asking for Booby-cuddles that night, taking a sip of her drink before leaning back into Steve who chuckled softly.

“Bless her heart”, he hummed, moving his arm out of the way to bring Natasha into his embrace, his hand rubbing over her bicep in a comforting gesture. Natasha was half asleep the next time you came to her with yet another comment. You were clearly not even near exhaustion which was mildly disappointing to Natasha who was hoping for a moment of silence.

“Mommy what’s that?” You asked, pointing at the mug on the table.

“It’s alcohol, baby, you can’t have it”, she mumbled, not opening her eyes, the said liquid weighing her eyelids down.

“Why not?” You inquired, peering inside the mug that only had a bit left.

“Because alcohol is bad for children”, she explained, knowing you wouldn’t give in that easily.

“Why?” You asked again.

“It’ll make you sick”, she hummed.

“Then why are you drinking it?” You questioned with a confused frown. “Are you getting sick now?”

“No, sweetie, I just like the taste”, she reasoned.

“I want some”, you uttered.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because of what I told you”, she tried, but you were intent on having your way.

“You always tell me to taste new things”, you argued, Natasha rolling her eyes.

“I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass”, she grumbled. “Fine, take a sip”, she said with a daring voice, knowing exactly how much you were going to hate it. You brought the large mug to your lips, the smell of brown sugar and spices filling your nose. Your tongue touched the liquid, a horrified grimace falling on your features as you put the mug immediately down, trying your best to keep a straight face to not let your mother get the chance to say “I told you so” again.

“See, what did I tell you?” She groaned, sitting up and grabbing a cookie from the table, offering a bite to you which you eagerly took.

“Yuck! I can’t believe you choose to drink that”, you whined, desperately munching on the cookie to erase the taste of rum from your tongue. It made Natasha smile, her lips pressing to your forehead.

“Yeah, mommy’s silly like that”, she hummed, brushing her fingers over your hair. Yelena sat down next to Natasha, groaning from exhaustion even though she had slept most of the day anyway, Natasha jabbing her with her elbow as a warning for sitting so close. Yelena gave her a grimace in return, welcoming you to sit on her lap as you climbed onto the couch. The clock was nearing midnight which was way past your bedtime, but Natasha couldn’t be bothered. There was no reason you couldn’t stay up for Christmas if you so wished. Natasha, however, was falling asleep on the spot as a result of the late night she had had with Yelena. Her eyelids drooped, Steve smiling softly as he allowed her to rest against him. Natasha’s whole body relaxed, the warmth and dimness of the living room lulling her into sleep as you introduced Tootsie to Yelena, the latter marveling at how big of a nose he had.

After what must have been at least two hours of sleeping, Natasha woke from the couch, feeling almost too hot in the excessive heat the super soldier possessed. She rubbed her eye, sitting up from the reclined position they had been laying in, her eyes scanning the room for the others. Most of them were gone, the candles blown out, only the Christmas tree lights illuminating the space. Thor was still in the room, deep in slumber on a couch, holding one of your Barbies in his hand next to the hot pink convertible, all your toys scattered on the floor. Natasha glanced to her side where she had last seen you, Yelena still slumped on the couch with you on her lap, arms locked around your waist, holding you the same way you were holding Tootsie. She smiled softly at the image, standing up so she could lift you into her arms and take you home. Yelena woke up when her hands slid off your waist, Natasha offering her an apologetic frown.

“Time for bed”, she whispered teasingly, adjusting you on her hip, fixing your princess dress and making sure you wouldn’t drop Tootsie. Yelena yawned, doing a similar scan of surroundings as her sister had, before getting up. Natasha then crouched down to face Steve, her hand first caressing his cheek then patting it enough to wake him.

“Go to bed, soldier boy. You’re gonna ruin your neck like that”, she hummed, Steve blinking up at her in confusion. “Good night, Steve, and Merry Christmas”, she whispered, offering him a smile before sneaking out of the living room with Yelena on her heels.

Chapter 17: Stranger danger

Chapter Text

Natasha turned the steering wheel, her eyes scanning the crosswalk for any possible children to avoid ending up in an accident. The surroundings of the school were littered with children of all ages and the last thing she wanted was to drive over one of them. She smiled softly, arriving at the front of the school. She was already peering through the gates to try to see if you were in the front yard waiting for her. There were a bunch of kids from your class that Natasha recognized. Some of them were definitely kids whose parents Natasha had directly –but tastefully– threatened before allowing you to go over to their house. She observed the small, black haired girl with cornrows, colorful beads decorating the tip of each braid, her two front teeth missing. She was your best friend Makena who Natasha had met many times. She was a sweet girl and you never shut up about her. So why was it that you weren’t with her?

She drove slowly forward, looking for a parking spot while simultaneously trying to find you. After a while she gave in, assuming that you were still inside, her gaze moving to the other side of the street, a glittering backpack catching her eye. The car halted in an instant in the middle of the street, the one behind her honking angrily when she shoved the door open and stepped outside. Her heels clicked rapidly against the concrete as she caught up with the man wearing a gray beanie, holding a little girl's hand in his own. Natasha grabbed his arm, yanking it off the child in one swift movement, the man letting out a surprised grunt. You whipped around at the sudden intrusion, your eyes wide and mouth agape in a silent scream that halted in your throat as your initial fear dissipated.

“Mommy!” You cheered, completely oblivious, immediately reaching for her to greet her. The man’s eyes raised to look at Natasha’s, their gazes meeting. There was a moment of impregnated stillness where none of you dared to move an inch, Natasha’s eyes cold and threatening as she deemed the man to be a stranger. Her uppercut was lightning fast, sending him tumbling to the ground, a shocked groan falling from his lips as she pushed you behind her to keep you safe. At that point your initial excitement was gone and you felt scared, recognizing an element of danger in the situation. Those who had noticed Natasha’s violent act were staring, horrified pairs of eyes looking at you, at your mother, at your new “friend”. You held onto Natasha’s thigh, your face pressed into her lower back, trying to peek past her to follow the man’s movements from your hiding place.

“Who are you?” She hissed angrily, the man frightened by the strength behind her blow, his hand rubbing his jaw. You moved swiftly from your spot, kicking him in the shin with your rainbow sneakers. He seemed very offended by your act of conformity with your mother, starting to clamber up from the ground. “I said, who are you?” She repeated, pushing you back once again before taking a step closer to his face and crouching down beside him, co*cking her head in emphasis. “Tell me your name”, she ordered with a low and even voice, bringing her hand to his throat, squeezing so hard he started to kick his feet and flail his arms in an attempt to alleviate the sudden pain.

“Gary- Wall- Wallstone”, he stuttered after briefly contemplating if he should lie, but Natasha’s stance and confidence told him that he wasn’t dealing with a regular civilian. She handled the situation with such composure he couldn’t help but to be scared. This wasn’t his first time by any means and he was familiar with the desperate screams and angry, panicked yelling that the woman in front of him hadn’t even considered.

“I’ll have you arrested… or murdered, we’ll see”, she hummed, sounding rather upbeat considering the pure rage that flooded through her. “Now, get the f*ck out of my face”, she added, roughly letting go of him, definitely leaving behind a bruise that he would remember. He wasn’t sure whether he should trust her or not, whether he was actually allowed to go, but eventually he scrambled up, running down the street to get away from her. She turned around to find you from behind her, opening her arms for you and lifting you onto her hip. She sighed in relief, hugging you tightly to her chest, relief flooding through her

“Oh baby, what were you thinking?” She asked you, pulling back to look at you.

“He said you were gonna pick me up from a different spot. He said we’re friends and that he was gonna bring me to mommy”, you explained, still not quite grasping that the man had not been there to help you but to take you.

“Why did you believe him?” She had told you about stranger danger. You knew not to trust adults you weren’t familiar with. She had explained to you a thousand times that only she or someone else from home was going to come pick you up. Natasha would never send someone you didn’t know.

“I don’t know”, you quipped, Natasha frowning at you as she got into the car, pulling the door shut.

“You never, never leave with a stranger”, she said firmly, her intense eyes boring into yours. “He was trying to kidnap you”, she explained, moving you over the console box to sit on the passenger seat while she drove the car off the middle of the street.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking up at her as she steered the vehicle into a free parking spot.

“It means that he was trying to take you to do god knows what with you”, Natasha replied, her heart still thudding in her chest like that of a tiny bird. The school was definitely going to get a piece of her mind. You looked at her blankly, not sure how to react to her distress.

“What I mean is he could’ve killed you or assaulted you. These people are bad people. They take children and they do bad things to them”, she explained, putting the parking brake on and turning to you. “They try to lure you to them and then they take you far, far away from home.” You didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“And I wouldn’t see mommy?” You asked quietly.

“You’d never see mommy again”, Natasha whispered, the thought sending shivers down her spine, a heavy lump forming in her stomach.

“Never?”

“Not ever, honey”, she confirmed. Your face formed into a frown as the tears brimmed in your eyes. You didn’t want to be taken away from mommy. You liked your home. There was a long, high-pitched whine that Natasha always recognized without fault, leaning closer to you, cupping your face. “But you’re here with me, angel”, she reminded you. “And I’ll keep you safe.”

“What- what if…”

“No, darling. I’ve got you”, she whispered, connecting your foreheads, her nose brushing against yours. “Just remember to stay away from strangers”, she added, knowing you would listen to her from then on. You nodded vigorously, seeking to press your face into her neck. She allowed you to clamber over the console box and into her arms where you were able to calm down from your scare, Natasha holding you tightly until you were ready to be let go.

“I’ve got a surprise for you”, she whispered softly into your ear, immediately gaining your attention.

“What?” You inquired, pulling back enough to squish your face into hers. Natasha could clearly see how excited you were even if your face was practically smushed up against her own.

“Someone’s coming over”, she teased, watching your eyes spread wide.

“Who?”

“Starts with a Y”, she hummed, waiting for you to piece it together, her thumbs wiping the tears under your eyes.

“Yelena!” You exclaimed, Natasha’s smile widening into a toothy grin. She adored the relationship that had formed between you and Yelena and she was more than glad that her sister felt the same way. “When is she coming?” You asked immediately, virtually vibrating from excitement. It made Natasha chuckle, glad that you were able to move on so easily from the scary incident. Hopefully, she hadn’t traumatized you with her course of action.

“Well”, she sighed, brushing your baby hairs aside. “She’s already waiting at home”, she revealed, your mouth falling open.

“Mommy, we have to go!” You insisted hastily, starting to tug on the door handle to get you into the backseat where your car seat awaited. Natasha pulled you into her arms, smiling gently as she tugged you close enough for her to kiss your head before opening the door for you.

As soon as the front door of the apartment had been opened you barged inside, giggling from excitement, ready to go greet your aunt. Natasha followed behind you, an amused smile on her face as she watched you hurdle your backpack into your room.

“Yelena!” You screamed loudly when your eyes finally landed on her figure in the living room.

“Y/N!” She shouted just as excitedly, taking a few running steps and scooping you into her arms. Your legs swung in the air as she spun you around, loud cackles falling from your lips before she finally brought you closer to her body, your arms wrapping around her neck. It had been months since you had last seen her. “How is my favorite troublemaker?“ She asked brightly, her wide grin matching yours, Natasha going into the kitchen to make something small for you to eat while you waited for dinner.

“I’m okay!” You replied, your arms tightening around her neck as you squished your cheek against Yelena’s, trying to hug her even harder.

“Just okay?” She asked, her fingers tickling your sides.

“Yes!” You screeched, wiggling out of her hold, running into your bedroom to get something, Yelena’s eyes finding Natasha’s. There was something she was hiding, the look in her eyes too emotionless to be deciphered by Yelena, but she didn’t ask questions. “Look!” You shouted, showing Yelena a stack of papers, each displaying a beautiful artwork from you.

“Oh, wow! Come, let’s go sit on the couch so you can show me your work”, she marveled, guiding you to the living room where you could spread the drawings on the coffee table.

“This one is Tootsie”, you pointed out, the brown outlines of an obvious bear drawn into the white paper. In Yelena’s opinion it was recognizable enough, the bear’s huge brown nose a clear indicator of who it was supposed to be.

“How is he doing?” She asked, looking at you, treating Tootsie like he was actually alive, something that you appreciated a great deal. She could see the way you perked up at her question, your small feet skidding into your bedroom once again to go find your beloved bear.

“Here”, you said firmly, giving the bear to Yelena. You specifically liked it when Yelena pretended that the bear was actually talking to her, whispering things to her. It was a particularly difficult job on her part because she actually needed to know what kind of personality Tootsie had so she wouldn’t say the wrong thing.

“What’s that? You rode on the Barbie mobile?” She asked with a shocked look on her face, hearing your quiet giggle.

“He did!” You confirmed, not knowing that Natasha had sent Yelena a picture of you playing two days prior where you had been pushing around the hot pink Barbie car with Tootsie inside it, or rather hanging off it.

“And then… What? Did you really?” Yelena pretended, trying to keep the corners of her mouth down so you couldn’t tell that she was smiling.

“What?” You asked immediately, eager to know what Tootsie was saying.

“You were in a crash?“ She asked in bewilderment as you laughed loudly.

“No!” You giggled, clearly more than amused. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Your little bear is lying to me”, Yelena pointed out, handing him back to you so you could continue showing your art. You huffed a laugh, telling the bear off for misbehaving.

“This one is a spaceship”, you continued, moving one of the papers toward her. “The thingies inside are scwarps”, you explained as if it was common knowledge what these blue scwarps were. “They are from Jiggybong. It’s a planet”, you told her, Yelena listening intently to your stories. “And then this is Yabafar. The scwarps tried to live there but the quinkies didn’t like that”, you continued, showing pictures of each of the characters and places you mentioned, Yelena truly impressed by your abilities to create an entire world from your imagination. On top of that the drawings were getting increasingly better.

“So what happened to the quinkies?” She asked, still studying the images you had drawn.

“Quinkies kicked scwarpses ass”, you stated, Yelena chuckling at your enthusiasm. “And they made them leave. So scwarpses needed to find a new home. This is Irianika”, you said, sliding an image of a pink planet in front of her. “They live there now with ibbiteens”, you finished with a definitive nod.

“Wow, this is incredible. Did you come up with that all by yourself?” She asked in astonishment, fingertips caressing over the pink planet and purple aliens. You nodded your head, feeling proud of yourself for eliciting such a reaction out of your aunt.

“Do you like them? I think they’re cool”, you hummed, Yelena huffing a laugh at that.

“Are you kidding me? I love them. You’re an amazing artist!” She cheered, ruffling your hair, your smile beaming just a little brighter.

“Snack is ready!” Natasha hollered from the kitchen, both you and Yelena sharing glances, hurrying into the kitchen to see what you were having. “I’ll be in my bedroom if you need me”, Natasha said softly, fleeing the kitchen once you had sat down, Natasha’s hand smoothing over your hair. You didn’t find it that odd, but Yelena’s eyes followed her intently as she walked away.

“Mm, yummy! I love sandwiches”, you groaned, grabbing yourself a triangle from the plate and taking a huge bite. It even had all your favorite fillings. Yelena poured your cup full of apple juice, feeling a little uneasy. Something was wrong but she decided it could wait until after snack time, focusing back on you to avoid making you upset by being absent. You munched your sandwich half in record time, gulping down your juice just as fast before wiping your mouth. You were ready to go again.

“Can we play Barbies now?” You asked hopefully, waiting for Yelena to put the dishes and juice away.

“Yes, of course. Why don’t you go set it all up? I’ll be there soon”, she suggested, placing her hand on your upper back to guide you toward your room, walking past it to find Natasha’s. She placed a knock on the door, waiting for a response.

“Yeah?” Natasha’s quiet voice sounded from the other side, Yelena’s brows furrowing slightly. She knew something was wrong, sliding the door open to find Natasha who was just standing up from the bed, moving to the window where her back would be facing Yelena.

“Natasha”, she hummed, closing the door to avoid you hearing their conversation, taking a few steps closer.

“I’m okay”, she assured her immediately, her voice uneven and teary.

“No, you’re not”, Yelena countered, still walking closer in a cautious manner. Natasha was visibly uncomfortable crying in front of someone else, her eyes fixed on the view outside, body stiff. “What’s wrong?” Yelena asked, reaching her hand for Natasha’s who yanked it away hastily as if burned by her touch. “Okay, I won’t touch. Sit down with me”, she suggested, moving to the bed, patiently waiting for Natasha to turn around and join her. She hiccuped quietly, bringing her hand up to her face to wipe her tears as she reluctantly sat down, her eyes averting Yelena.

“What’s up lisichka (little fox)?” Yelena asked with a small voice, using Natasha’s nickname from decades ago that had most likely last been used in Ohio when they were nothing but children, but Yelena had held onto it, her child’s mind clinging to any piece of happiness she could.

“Nothing much, Yelka-belka (Yelka-squirrel)”, Natasha huffed teasingly, wiping her nose aggressively, trying to lighten the mood and avoid the real problem.

“Natasha”, she said firmly, giving her a stern look and a co*ck of her head. “What’s wrong?” She tried again, Natasha huffing through her nose, attempting to appear indifferent, shoving down her anguish even though she knew she couldn’t hide from Yelena and it would all eventually bubble to the surface no matter how hard she would try to resist it. There was a soft whimper, Natasha sobbing quietly, dropping her forehead onto Yelena’s shoulder, the latter taking it as a sign that she wanted comfort. Yelena wrapped her arms around her, Natasha welcoming the placating gesture and moving her head to get more comfortable. Yelena squeezed her tightly, her heart aching for her big sister who always tried to be the stronger one until the very end.

“I’m so tired”, she whispered with the softest of voices, a sob escaping her at the admission. Yelena’s hand came up to cup her head, fingers sinking into her hair.

“That’s okay”, Yelena replied just as quietly, rubbing her back. “It’s okay to be tired”, she reasoned, knowing very well that at one point in their life it hadn’t been okay to be tired, tired got you killed.

“No, I have a child”, she whimpered, clearly feeling guilty for not being able to keep herself together for you even if you weren’t physically there.

“You’re allowed to be sad, Natinka”, Yelena hummed, hoping that she was willing to listen to her. Natasha stayed silent for a moment, mild shivers racking through her body, making her tremble against Yelena.

“Someone tried to kidnap her”, she cried, another wave of sobs falling from her lips.

“What?” Yelena pulled back to see her face, fingertips wiping away the tears that cascaded down her face. “When?”

“Today”, she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. “Some man, just outside school”, she added, knowing Yelena would ask questions.

“Did you get any identification?” She asked immediately, Natasha feeling her tense up.

“Wallstone, Gary, most likely an alias”, Natasha mumbled, wiping her eyes again, staying quiet for a while. “I was so scared”, she whimpered, covering her mouth with her hands, trying to stay quiet.

“Shh, I know, but she’s safe. She’s okay”, Yelena assured her, pulling her back into a hug. “Tell me you at least hit him”, she asked with a little chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

“Of course”, she huffed. “Would’ve done a lot worse had Y/N not been there”, she hummed quietly, feeling a flush of anger go through her as she recalled the events.

“That must have been really scary”, Yelena mumbled, skillfully hiding the anger that seethed inside her as she continued to console Natasha. “No wonder you were scared”, she added, hands rubbing Natasha’s back. “It is completely normal. I would say it is expected”, she reasoned, earning a small hum of agreement as the door clicked.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” You asked the second you laid your eyes on the two women hugging. You could see your mother’s reddened nose and teary eyes, your features immediately starting to mirror her.

“Shh, no honey, nothing is wrong”, Natasha soothed you, pulling away from Yelena, but you were a smart kid and you knew that something must’ve been really wrong if mommy was crying. You rarely saw her cry at all. Your eyes teared up and you let out a quiet sob, running to Natasha who welcomed you into her arms, hugging you tightly. After a moment of evening out your breathing you pulled back, your huge eyes and pouty lips facing Natasha. She offered you a smile that was meant to be comforting but you could see that it took a lot from her to smile at all.

“Why are you crying?” You asked, your voice high, resembling a whine. Natasha kissed your forehead, hugging you a little closer as she gathered herself enough to be able to answer.

“Mommy got a bit scared today. That’s all”, she assured you.

“Because I went with that man”, you said. It wasn’t a question, you already knew, but you hadn’t realized the effect it had on her. Natasha nodded, biting her lip to control her features. “Mommy, don’t cry”, you pleaded, your slightly sticky hands coming up to her face to cup her cheeks, thumbs wiping off the fresh tears.

“I won’t, myshka (little mouse)”, she whispered, her heart aching at the idea of losing you, losing this wonderful baby that she had gotten into her life by sheer luck and who had grown to be the most caring, beautiful child in the world, at least in Natasha’s opinion. It pained her that you had come so close to the face of danger somewhere as ordinary as school. She knew that she had exceptionally good odds of finding you again if that were to ever happen, but it wasn’t enough to comfort her. She needed you safe at all times.

“Promise?” You asked, fervently wiping the tears that still kept coming, a small, frustrated frown on your face.

“I promise”, she nodded, sniffling heavily, forcing herself to stop from crying even though it seemed to be the last thing her body wanted.

“Good”, you nodded with a small smile. “Do you want cuddles?” You asked, sounding so innocent and kind that Natasha had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself together. “Your cuddles always make me feel better”, you explained, a soft huff of a laugh coming from Yelena at the adorable offer. “I’m gonna hug you so tight”, you stated, wrapping your arms around her neck, your body pressing tightly into hers. You let out a whine of effort from how hard you squeezed her into a hug, successfully making Natasha laugh as her arms tightened around you as well.

“Wow, you’re getting quite strong, aren’t you?” Natasha chuckled, swaying you gently in her arms, appreciating the effort in your embrace. She couldn’t lie, it did feel good, especially when it assured her that you were safe and unharmed, warm against her chest.

“See? I knew it would help”, you giggled, pulling away to look at her, a wide grin on your face.

“That it did”, she hummed, kissing your forehead.

It took you quite some time to allow Natasha anywhere from your sight and you insisted that she would come play Barbies with you and Yelena because it was your idea of having fun and cheering her up. Natasha appreciated it a great deal but she didn’t have the heart to tell you that she wanted some time alone so she stuck around for the night, up until it was time for bed. She excused herself from the apartment, leaving you with Yelena to get you ready for bed, Natasha desperately needing to clear her head and she knew just where to go.

She halted in front of the glass gym doors, her eyes landing on all the equipment that lay neatly in their respective places. She was so tired. Just the thought of having to do anything physical made her irritated and frustrated. She pulled her hand away from the door handle, allowing herself to be honest with her feelings. Working herself to the brink of physical exhaustion wasn’t the way to go. It wasn’t what she needed. She didn’t want to feel the pain in her muscles and lungs when she lifted as much weight as she possibly could. She didn’t want to feel the sting in her fists and feet when she beat up the mannequins over and over again. She wasn’t angry anymore. There was no need to let that anger out. She sighed heavily, turning around and walking back to the elevator, changing her course of direction. She was crushed, emotionally burdened and she wanted company.

The door of Clint’s apartment swung open, Natasha walking inside without so much as a knock on the door as a warning, Clint waving a greeting from the couch where he was waiting for Rust Valley Restorers to start, a stupid car reality show that Natasha couldn’t stand, yet they always watched it together.

“You want a beer?” He asked her, eyes nailed on the screen even though it was only playing commercials.

“Sure”, she mumbled, heading toward the fridge.

“Nice, bring me one too”, he grunted, Natasha rolling her eyes at him, knowing full well that the only reason he had asked was because he wanted her to bring him one. She got two and slumped down next to him on the couch, Clint’s arm automatically wrapping around her shoulders. He took a look at her for the first time, her puffed up, blotchy lips and reddened eyes catching his attention. His brows furrowed into a concerned frown, Natasha’s eyes moving to the screen. She had been fighting tears all night long, pretending that she was okay in order to keep you happy and calm. Once the front door of her apartment had shut behind her, the tears had invaded her eyes in an instant.

“What are we watching?” She asked casually, trying her best to hold it together. It frustrated her that her walls seemed to come down around him on their own especially when you were removed from her surroundings and she no longer had to put on a brave face for you.

“Only the greatest reality show known to man. You came just in time for Rust Valley”, he noted, sounding amused but his eyes lingered on her cautiously.

“I don’t know about that”, she chuckled, but it was void of any real humor. There was a moment of silence, Natasha able to clearly sense the way he observed her.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, Natasha daring to make eye contact with him. It was evident to Clint that she wasn’t but he already knew she was going to deny it before he had even asked the question.

“I’m okay”, she mumbled, averting her gaze when she felt her eyes well up with tears. It was a new kind of low for her to even be at his apartment when feeling so vulnerable, but she didn’t know what else to do. She wanted company that was other than you or her sister. She maybe even desperately needed it. “Here to watch the show”, she added, offering him a smirk through her tears. She always hated how comforting Clint was because it made it harder for her to resist him. His presence alone was so serene and easy that it would’ve lulled Natasha immediately into a sense of safety had she allowed it.

“What’s up, sweetie?” He asked in a low, almost fatherly tone, reaching for the TV remote to turn it off. Natasha glared at him.

“Drop the endearments”, she commanded, but the corner of her mouth was already tugging up into a smile.

“Fine. What’s up Natasha?” He repeated, her smile dropping as she stared ahead, lower lip starting to tremble. She sighed, dropping her face into her hands to hide herself from him, even if it was ineffective.

“I…” She exhaled quietly, shaking her head to clear her mind and get a better grip of her emotions. She wiped her tears, blinking them away and turning to look at him. “Y/N almost got kidnapped today”, she told him, pursing her lips and shrugging, trying to rid herself of the urge to start sobbing wholeheartedly right in front of him. Clint’s eyes widened in shock as he let the new information sink in.

“At school?” He asked in bewilderment, Natasha nodding.

“After school. I went to pick her up and she wasn’t there”, she whispered, unable to speak any louder. “I then found her walking down the street with a stranger”, she explained, closing her eyes as she recalled the nauseating moment when she had recognized your glittery backpack. “He told her he was gonna take her to mommy…” There was a soft wheeze as Natasha covered her eyes with her hand, her body jolting lightly as she held in her sobs, clearly struggling to hold herself together.

“Come here, honey. Let it out”, Clint whispered, opening his arms and bringing her to his chest. She didn’t fight it, allowing him to rest his chin on top of her head as he held her. “Laura once called me from a park with Lila. She was maybe three or four. And Laura told me there was a black van nearby. They were alone at the park and she told me the van had appeared out of nowhere and that she was scared to leave because the driver was standing by the gate.” He spoke quietly, telling his story with the hopes of providing her some comfort. “They got out okay and nothing happened, but she had mentally prepared herself for everything”, he explained, his hand brushing through Natasha’s loose curls, occasionally getting caught in small knots. She sniffled again, breathing out evenly, trying to calm down. “She cried on the phone the whole night, talking about how she had planned to protect Lila and what she was going to say or do if someone attacked them. It’s a natural instinct to react like that when it comes to your baby”, he hummed, hugging her just a little tighter.

“It’s embarrassing and it’s not natural to me”, she grumbled back, wiping her tears again. “I’m a trained assassin”, she reminded him, a smile stretching onto his lips. She was so stubborn.

“That you may be, but you’re also a mother”, he replied, trying not to sound so amused. “Someone tried to take your baby. You have every right to be upset”, he assured her, feeling her adjust her head against his chest. He gave her a moment to respond but she couldn’t really get anything coherent out, only soft sniffles coming from her. “And hey”, he started again, pulling away enough to see her snotty face, his steady hands cupping her cheeks. “We’re gonna find that bastard and give him hell”, he nodded firmly, Natasha’s watery eyes wide and sad, giving her a certain kind of vulnerability and youth that he wasn’t sure he had ever seen in her before. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen her cry. It made his heart ache to see her in such pain, knowing the events of the afternoon had truly rattled her up. His hands brushed over her cheeks to collect the warm tears, Natasha’s pouty lips quirking up into a smile.

“I know exactly what I’m gonna do to him”, she hummed, clearly relieved by the mention of revenge, it was her speciality after all.

“That’s my Nat”, he chuckled, a grin spreading on his face. He could see the way she observed him for a moment, her lips rubbing together briefly before she leaned back into a hug, adjusting herself so her legs crossed his lap. She sank into his hold, just glad to feel physical contact and human warmth against her body.

“Turn the TV on, you’re gonna miss your Hot Wheels”, she teased, earning a laugh from Clint who reached for the remote to turn the screen back on so they could look at three men restoring cars.

“I better not have missed anything important”, he said jokingly, Natasha huffing.

“You could miss the entire series and that still wouldn’t happen”, she jeered, nuzzling closer to him, enjoying the way his hand brushed down her back. “If you mention tonight to anyone I’m going to rip your arms off”, she threatened halfheartedly, his chest rumbling as he laughed.

“I’ll use it as blackmail someday”, he mumbled, fingers brushing over her curls and down her back again, his eyes fixed on the screen. Natasha wasn’t affectionate, not ever, at least she liked to think that but it wasn’t always the truth. She had come to Clint’s apartment in the hopes of any kind of affection she could get and no matter how much she wanted to deny it she had wanted exactly this, her mind finally at ease in her best friend’s embrace. She had chosen him out of everyone else for a reason and she was more than glad to have made the right choice. Clint was always safe and he always cared no matter what the issue was. She had surprised herself by even going through with the idea of seeking for someone and despite the embarrassment she felt for it, she couldn’t help but to feel content knowing she wasn’t alone.

Chapter 18: Mommy’s here

Chapter Text

“Good morning, solnishka (sunshine)”, Natasha whispered, her hand pressing down on your duvet covered shoulder, shaking you gently. “Time to wake up, honey”, she hummed, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over you to kiss your forehead. You huffed quietly, wincing at the sunlight in your room. You immediately tugged on the duvet to cover your face with it. There was a quiet whine as you wiggled your body to hide under the covers, Natasha chuckling at how adorable it was. “Come on, angel. You don’t want to be late for school”, she reminded you, but all she got in return was a raspy protest.

“No, no school”, you whimpered, clutching onto the duvet as tight as you could, resisting Natasha’s hand that was trying to pull it down.

“Honey, you have to go to school”, she tried again.

“No”, you cried, trying even harder to stay hidden under the covers until Natasha finally got a good enough grip to tear the covers off from your upper body.

“No?” She asked in surprise at your defiance. “Are you sure?” She asked in a lower tone that often got you moving pretty quickly.

“No”, you repeated, pouting up at her. She could see you were very tired and that your eyes were glossed over. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, Natasha’s brows furrowing. She placed the back of her hand on your forehead, feeling your temperature that seemed to be quite regular.

“Does your throat or tummy hurt?” She asked, her hand caressing your cheek. “What about your head?” You shook your head no. You felt physically mostly okay but you knew you didn’t want to go to school. “Are you trying to get out of going to school?” She inquired, her eyes searching your face like a scanning lie detector.

“No”, you muttered.

“Did you stay up all night playing?” Natasha asked. You felt tears well up in your eyes. No you hadn’t stayed up. You just felt awful, but mommy wasn’t going to believe you because it seemed like you were trying to get out of going to school. “Then what is it, dorogaya (darling)?”

“I don’t know”, you sobbed, tears spilling over, Natasha’s face softening immediately.

“Shh, there’s no need to cry, love”, she assured you, bringing you a bit closer to her so she could hug you. “You don’t have to go to school today, okay? We’ll stay home”, she said, smoothing your back with the palm of her hand. “Do you want to continue sleeping?” She suggested, feeling you nod against her shoulder. “Okay, you go back to sleep, sweetheart”, she whispered, lowering you back into the sheets. She kissed your forehead, brushing some of your hair aside. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me”, she added. You nodded your head, closing your eyes and snuggling into the sheets as Natasha left the room.

You had never tried to get out of school in the mornings so it was easy for her to believe that you really were feeling under the weather, but she did find your behavior a little odd despite it. Briefly, Natasha wondered if there was something at school that made you feel bad, if there were bullies. It felt like a bit of a reach because she had full trust that you would come to her if you needed help. In fact, she had told you multiple times to do so if someone was giving you trouble at school. Deep in her thoughts, Natasha made her way into the kitchen, deciding to surprise you with waffles for breakfast in an attempt to cheer you up. She whipped up the batter, slicing some fruit and berries for you as well before starting to fry the waffles. They smelled heavenly and Natasha was partly hoping the scent would lure you out of your bedroom eventually. To her surprise you emerged nearly three hours later from your room, your pajamas all twisted around your body, hair looking like a mess. You yawned heavily, going into the kitchen for something to drink, but before you got to the fridge you stopped by Natasha who was sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling on a tablet.

“Hey, look at you, sleepyhead”, she hummed, welcoming you into her embrace, kissing your head.

“Morning”, you groaned, your forehead resting against Natasha’s chest. You were unwilling to move, still feeling like you hadn’t quite slept enough.

“Are you thirsty?” She asked, feeling a little nod against her chest. “Sit down, baby.” You did as told, Natasha getting you a glass of water.

“Can I have warm milk?” You asked quietly, Natasha feeling your forehead again, starting to think that you really were getting sick. You grabbed the water she handed to you, guzzling it down in one go.

“Yes, but drink some more water first, okay?” She suggested, pouring you another glass. It was important to stay hydrated, especially if sick. You sipped on it much more slowly, feeling the cold liquid soothe your throat. “Would you like a waffle for breakfast? I made some earlier”, she offered. You nodded your head silently. You had a plain waffle, three strawberries and your warm milk before you left the kitchen to go use the bathroom. You used the toilet and brushed your teeth, but you didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas because they were so comfortable. Once you returned into the kitchen Natasha was no longer there.

“Mommy”, you asked quietly, peeking your head around the corner to see if she was in her bedroom. “Mommy!” You tried a bit louder when you couldn’t see her in the kitchen either.

“In the living room, honey!“ Her voice replied and you immediately bounced into that direction, your small, bare feet flapping against the stone floors. You scurried your way to the couch, crawling onto her lap a bit clumsily. She welcomed you with open arms, smiling softly when you nuzzled close to her. “Why, hello there”, she hummed in amusem*nt, your beautiful eyes taking a peek at her face.

“Hi”, you whispered quietly. You offered her a soft, slightly shy smile before you hid yourself against her chest again. Natasha’s hand scratching your scalp gently, the other stroking your back soothingly. She didn’t say anything, just smiled to herself as she enjoyed the quiet moment with you. Her chest felt light as she listened to your even breaths, mind suddenly at ease from your act of affection.

There was nothing you loved more. You felt warmth bubble inside you, your muscles relaxing even further, making you sink into her embrace. Your cheek rested against the top of her breast, Natasha’s scent filling up your nostrils with each deep inhale you took. Your eyes were shut, your small hands gripping her shirt loosely as you felt yourself rise and fall in tandem with her breathing. You needed to be close to her, needed to have her right there simply because you felt like it. You wanted attention and comfort from her and thankfully Natasha was more than happy to give it to you. She held you tightly to her chest, her lips pressing into your hair as she breathed you in, her hands roaming all over your body in the most soothing way possible. She kissed your head every now and then, completely having forgotten about the book she had been reading. Her chest rumbled slightly, a gentle melody coming from her lips as she hummed the first lullaby that popped into her head. She swayed you slightly, continuing to caress your body comfortingly. It didn’t matter that you were a bit older by then, Natasha would never stop treating you like the baby that you were to her.

“Hmm, I love you”, she whispered, kissing your head that popped up right after it. You offered a bright smile, puckering your lips for a kiss until Natasha dipped her head down to press one to your lips. “Muah”, she hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“More”, you chuckled, climbing closer to her. You gave her another kiss. “More, more, more”, you giggled, each little kiss paired with a long “muah”. Natasha littered your entire face with kisses, her hands holding you in a tight grip. “One more! Pleaseee!” You begged. “Just one!” You tried, although Natasha never needed much persuasion. She cupped your cheeks firmly, looking into your amused eyes, rolling her own in good nature.

“Okay, one more”, she sighed, kissing you yet again. You chuckled softly, burrowing your face into her neck as you giggled. Natasha sighed deeply, rubbing circles into your back. “What’s up?” She finally asked, feeling like there was a reason you needed a bit of loving.

“Nothing”, you mumbled. You were a big girl and it was silly anyway.

“You know ‘nothing’ is always something”, she hummed, resting her cheek on your head. You sighed, contemplating whether to tell her or not. After a moment of consideration you decided to go for it because your mother was always a safe option.

“I miss cuddles”, you admitted, Natasha understanding immediately what you were after. With school, hobbies and work there had been little time left for cuddles. You had gotten fully accustomed to sleeping the nights in your own bed and rarely wandered next to Natasha anymore. Mornings were always a hassle, the afternoon you were at practice or spent doing homework and then by evening you were so tired that you got put into bed shortly after dinner. There hadn’t been much time to just sit and cuddle. She had also been spending more time with adults only, since you had a life outside of her now.

“I miss cuddles too”, she replied, your head popping up again to look at her face.

“Really?” You asked brightly, Natasha nodding her head.

“Yes, really. Mommy loves to cuddle you”, she assured you, patting your back again. “For all I care, you could just stay here for the rest of the day”, she chuckled, squeezing you tightly. You would be staying home the whole day anyway and it suited Natasha more than well to have you in her arms for the afternoon.

“Can I nap?”

“You silly, little baby, of course you can”, she replied in amusem*nt, tickling your sides as you giggled into her chest. You relaxed fully into her hold, closing your eyes. You had slept around the clock already, getting a bit more sleep than a seven-year-old needed, yet you still felt like you could really use a nap, your eyelids weighing a ton. Up until you fell asleep Natasha just held you, smoothing her hands over your body, sometimes massaging your muscles gently. You were very warm and you felt so familiar in her arms that nothing else could have made her happier at the moment. Her heart soared at the soft huffs and snores you let out, feeling content with you in her embrace. Her body almost ached with the love she felt for you. The maternal connection she so often experienced was something words could never describe accurately enough. You carried a part of her in everything that you were. She would do anything, be anything, for you.

Eventually, Natasha went back into reading, propping the book against your lower back, diving right back into the mystery novel that she had positively already solved. It was when the main character fell into a well that Natasha noticed how warm you were getting. She pressed her lips to your forehead, the skin way too warm to her touch. You were running a fever. Natasha thought you had avoided the flu season by now but apparently her hopes had been too high and you had finally caught the flu that had been going around the elementary school. She hated that she couldn’t hold you for longer, but she had to make sure your fever wasn’t getting too high so she set you down on the couch, getting up to go find a thermometer. And sure enough, your temperature was well above average, Natasha sighing heavily. Going back to check the medicine cabinet, she discovered expired cough syrup and an empty bottle of nasal spray. She would need someone to babysit you while she went to the pharmacy and grocery store. She had been planning on going to the store with you since you were staying home but she wasn’t about to take a sick child anywhere near the public. It just wasn’t smart. Picking up her phone, she dialed Wanda’s number, closing her bedroom door behind her to make sure she wouldn’t disturb your sleep.

“Hey, you doing anything right now?” She asked once she heard her pick up the phone.

“Hi! Not really, I was gonna head for lunch”, she replied brightly.

“I have to go to the store and Y/N’s sick. I was wondering if you could come babysit her for a sec so that I can get us some food. We currently only have the lightbulb in the fridge”, she explained, chuckling when she heard Wanda huff.

“Oh, poor baby. Is it the flu?”

“Yup, probably got it from Savannah. She was sick just a few days ago”, Natasha explained.

“I’ll come, but you have to bring me donuts. I have a deficiency”, she said, the smirk audible in her voice as Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll get us donuts. Now, start moving, witch girl. I don’t have all day”, she threatened teasingly, Wanda bidding goodbye before ending the call. Natasha shook her head affectionately. She would never get enough of that woman.

While she was already in her bedroom she grabbed whatever child-appropriate painkillers she had on hand just in case your flu developed any additional symptoms to the fever. She was just bringing the medicine back into the living room when the front door slid open, revealing Wanda and her soft smile.

“Hey”, Natasha whispered, walking to the entrance of the apartment to greet Wanda. “You know where everything is, there’s some meds on the table if she’s feeling worse than before. I won’t be long. And-“

“I’ll call you if anything comes up”, Wanda finished for her, knowing the speech by heart. Natasha smiled softly.

“Thank you again”, she hummed.

“Of course”, she nodded, opening the door for her. “Don’t forget my donuts.” That earned Wanda a small scoff from Natasha. Wanda chuckled, shutting the door and moving to the couch where you slept on your side, turning on the TV and lowering the volume so she wouldn’t disturb you. She pulled your leg onto her lap, gently stroking the bottom of your foot in a repetitive motion. You had such small feet. Wanda smiled to herself, looking down at you. She definitely wanted kids with Vision. She wanted a child of her own, had wanted one ever since you moved into the compound and sometimes it pained her that she couldn’t just steal you all to herself. She wanted to be a mother so bad. All these years she had been watching you run into Natasha’s arms with the biggest smile on your face, and she couldn’t lie, the relationship that had developed between you and Natasha was more than admirable. Wanda too wanted someone to call her mommy. She wanted to take care of someone small, raise a beautiful child whom she loved with all her heart. It was one of the reasons she liked to babysit you so much. She got a chance to experience what it would be like to have and take care of her own sweet, little child.

Your foot twitched, the touch of her fingers tickling you. It made her smile even wider if that was possible. She was downright obsessed with the quiet huffing you emitted as you slept, your nose clearly blocked by congestion. Oh, how she wanted to just pull you into her arms and hold you, but it wasn’t a good idea because you had fallen asleep in your mother’s arms and waking up in someone else’s embrace would only be an effective way to scare you. So, Wanda watched over you as you slept, patiently waiting for either you to wake up or Natasha to return.

On the third commercial break that was boring Wanda to death you started to stir, your eyes fluttering open. She didn’t know a sight cuter than your tired, little face, offering you a gentle smile.

“Hey, princess”, she hummed, your features forming into a frown as you looked around the room.

“Where’s mommy?” You croaked, a pout overtaking your lips.

“Mommy went to the store to get some food”, Wanda hummed. The tears were virtually instant. You wanted mommy. “Shh, honey, mommy will be back”, she assured you, watching you sit up. Your head swayed to the side slightly, the world spinning in your vision. Your head felt so full, the congestion in your nose making you feel stuffy, like you were suffocating.

“I can’t breathe”, you whined, wiping your nose aggressively into the sleeve of your pajamas.

“Use a tissue, sweetheart”, Wanda suggested, bringing one to your nose for you to blow. You mustered all your energy into the huff, the yellow snot flooding out of your nose, wetting the tissue. It alleviated your headache just a little, offering a bit of relief while Wanda cringed at the warm, damp tissue.

“My head hurts”, you whispered, looking up at her with your puppy eyes, Wanda caving immediately.

“Come here, baby”, she murmured, pulling you into her arms even though she knew you were supposed to be cooling down. You were just happy to be held and sank into her embrace without complaint. Wanda smelled like cinnamon. It was different from your mother’s scent but nearly equally comforting. You rested your chin on her shoulder, your hands fiddling with her long locks. You heard her grab medication from the table, popping out a painkiller for you. She then stood up with you in her arms to go get a cup of water to help you get the pill down. You swallowed it, feeling slightly like it stuck to your throat but you pushed through it, the water helping you a little. Wanda stroked her hands down your back comfortingly, feeling your arms tighten around her.

“I want mommy”, you whispered, your voice wavering slightly, tears wetting her neck.

“Shh, princess, I know”, she hummed, bouncing you in her arms. You were still just a little bit too warm, Wanda’s brows furrowing in worry. “Let’s take you into the bathroom”, she hummed, adjusting you to her left hip for better support.

“What’s in the bathroom?” You asked in confusion, pulling back from her neck to look at Wanda’s green eyes that held a softness to them. She cupped your cheek briefly, offering a gentle smile.

“The floor is really cold”, she whispered. “It will bring down your temperature”, she explained, lowering herself to the cool tiles of the master bathroom. “Come on, sweetie, you have to lay down”, she instructed, but you only snuggled closer to her, seeking her warmth more fervently. Wanda pried off your long sleeve shirt, goosebumps erupting over your skin at the coolness of the air as she chucked the shirt aside. She lay down with you on top of her, sighing at your stubbornness as you whined in protest. She opened a cupboard that was right in her reach, pulling out a soft towel that she placed on the floor as a makeshift pillow, patting it gently. “Put your head down”, she tried again but you didn’t move an inch, your face hidden against her chest.

“No, it’s cold”, you cried, making Wanda chuckle.

“Darling, that’s why you have to lay down”, she reasoned, receiving a huff from you as she slid you off of her and onto the tile floor. You whined angrily, the tears that had dried a while ago making a comeback. You cringed and shivered at the cold stone against your skin. “Shh, look at me baby”, she mumbled, your head turning to the side to meet her eyes. “That’s it. Take deep breaths. Don’t focus on the cold”, she guided you, watching how you sucked in a long breath, filling your cheeks with air. You trembled lightly, screwing your eyes shut as you clenched your fists to manage the change in temperature that you absolutely did not approve of. But the longer you lay on the floor the less the cold stung, the waves of shivers wracking your body less and less frequently as you cooled down.

“Your eyes are green”, you mumbled, staring intently into Wanda’s, making a rather obvious observation. She nodded in confirmation as you scooched closer to see better. “There’s stripes in your eyes”, you noted, studying the fibers in her irises, realizing there were flecks of gold and darker green in them.

“Stripes?” Wanda questioned in confusion.

“Yeah”, you nodded, bringing your hand to her face and stuffing your pointer finger up her nose. You giggled joyously, Wanda huffing out a laugh as she pulled your offending hand off her. You coughed lightly, wiping your nose into the palm of your hand. “When’s mommy coming home?” You were clearly bored of laying on the bathroom floor.

“She should be home soon enough”, Wanda reasoned, popping the thermometer she had brought with her into your armpit, making sure you were squeezing your elbow to your side to hold it in place.

“When’s that?” You inquired, your puppy eyes looking up at her.

“Honey, I don’t know”, Wanda hummed, the front door clicking conveniently right after. You bounced up from the floor, the thermometer clattering onto the tiles as you ran out of the bathroom to go greet your mother who was carrying two large grocery bags and a medium box of donuts.

“Mommy!” You screamed, your voice sounding rather hoarse. She smiled brightly at you, dropping the bags to the floor to welcome you into her arms, Wanda sneaking the donuts for herself before Natasha even had a chance to set them down anywhere.

“How’s my baby girl holding up?” She murmured into your neck, tickling your sides a bit. Her coat felt freezing cold against your naked skin, goosebumps covering your chest and arms but you were just so relieved that she was home again that you didn’t care. You giggled loudly at her poking fingers, snuggling as close as you could get, joyous screams coming from you every now and then. “You were nice to Wanda while mommy was away, weren’t you?” She asked teasingly, knowing you always behaved well with Wanda. You nodded your head, used to the way Natasha was juggling you in her arms to remove her coat and scarf without setting you down. She dropped them on the small bench in the entrance of the apartment, walking into the living room where she could properly give you the attention you clearly craved. Your usual spurt of energy was cut short by your sickness and she could visibly see how the energy was drained from you quickly after.

“Mommy, will you read me a story?” You asked quietly, slumped against her chest as you shivered from the cold, nuzzling closer to her for warmth.

“Myshenka (little mouse), we have to eat first. It’s getting late for lunch”, she reasoned but you just let out an angry whine.

“I’m not hungry”, you grumbled against her shoulder, huffing forcefully as a way to fight the congestion in your nose. Natasha grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and brought it to your nose, pressing your other nostril shut. You huffed with all your might, some of the snot coming out, but your nose remained blocked.

“Wanda-honey, will you bring me the nasal spray from one of the grocery bags?” She requested, glancing over at Wanda who was emptying the bags all over the kitchen, crimson light levitating the food items in the air as they floated into their rightful places.

“Coming right up”, Wanda hummed mouth full of donut, the small cardboard package flying Natasha’s way. She unboxed it, sliding the tip up your nose and spraying each nostril. You winced, feeling some of the medicine drip down your throat, the flavor worse than any other medicine you had ever taken. You coughed right in her face, offended by the ghastly taste that you tried to get rid of.

“Could you bring some water in here?” Natasha asked again, feeling bad for ordering Wanda around like that but she didn’t have the heart to set you down onto the couch when you looked so sick and worn down. She brushed her fingers over your forehead and hair, cradling you to her chest to get you more comfortable as you pushed some more air through your nose to try to get the snot moving. You turned your face into her chest, coughing loudly again, the sound starting to turn gravelly. Natasha frowned in concern, welcoming the glass of water that Wanda brought alongside a full carafe that she set down onto the table. “Thank you”, Natasha whispered, turning back to you. “How are you feeling, baby?” She asked softly when you tried to nuzzle closer to her.

“Cold. Head hurts”, you mumbled as a thermometer was stuck into your armpit by Wanda’s magic.

“We were in the middle of taking her temperature when you came home”, Wanda explained, walking into the living room with your shirt in her hands. “She got a painkiller about thirty minutes ago”, she informed, Natasha nodding in acknowledgement, a pensive look on her face.

“Would you mind staying for a bit? At least until I’ve managed to get her some lunch?” She suggested hopefully, feeling like she needed another set of hands to take care of you.

“Of course not”, Wanda chuckled as if her request was ridiculous. “I’m free until the evening. I’ve got nothing but time”, she assured Natasha, handing her your shirt, reciprocating the soft smile she received from her.

“You’re a lifesaver”, Natasha mused, Wanda grinning back at her.

“I’ll go get some of that soup you brought”, Wanda announced, turning her gaze to you, her finger tickling your cheek softly. “Would the patient like a sandwich with that?” She asked, hearing a muffled mumble come from you, Natasha’s shirt making it unintelligible.

“That would be a yes”, Natasha chuckled, her hand brushing over your head. She felt her heart ache at how adorable you looked despite your condition, her arms hugging you closer, a sudden wave of sadness washing over her when reminded of the fact that time would never stand still. She had barely even noticed how much you had grown and as she held you close she realized that your head was positioned higher than before, and your legs seemed to stretch farther than she remembered. You were growing, something that none of you could escape. She sighed heavily, her pout replaced by a smile when you rubbed your face against her, grumbling quietly.

“Mommy”, you whined, a piercing pain shooting through your head as you coughed lightly again, the thermometer letting out a quiet beep.

“What, malyshka (baby)?” She asked, removing the device from your armpit and checking the number it displayed. Your fever had thankfully lowered a good amount.

“I want a story”, you whimpered, tugging on her shirt childishly.

“Mommy will read you a story after lunch, okay?” She suggested, hearing a whine from you but you didn’t seem to protest further than that, allowing her to slide your pajama top back on.

Natasha spoon fed you your soup because you refused to do it yourself, keeping your eyes closed to avoid making your headache any worse even though it was starting to feel slightly better as the painkiller slowly kicked in. The soup was warm which you liked and it soothed your throat. It was easy to eat unlike the sandwich Wanda had made. It felt like a thick paste that stuck to the roof of your mouth, making it hard for you to swallow. You did take a couple of bites from the sandwich whenever Natasha offered it to you, but eventually she ended up finishing it off herself, your tummy filled up by the noodle soup. Once your lunchtime was over you got to choose a book that Natasha would read to you while you sat in her embrace with your eyes closed, imagining all the wild things she was reading about. You loved stories and most nights you got a bedtime story if there was time for it. On the nights when there was no time you would often resort to begging and pleading until Natasha promised to read you twice as much the following night. You had just recently finished The Jungle Book which you had adored through and through, Natasha’s colorful impressions of each character something that always drew you in without fault. You had many, many unread books lying around in your room, some for you to read and others for Natasha to read during bedtime. You had chosen the thickest book from your collection, one that you knew to be for older kids but it was just so irresistibly beautiful that you had to know what was inside it. You had already looked at the pictures and even read some of the text from the beginning, but you just wanted to hear your mother put her own twist on it.

You slammed the large book onto Natasha’s lap, its red frame decorated with gorgeous gold curves, the cover displaying a dark castle and the name Harry Potter below it. Natasha frowned at the book in front of her, giving you an amused look. She was slightly against reading a book that was definitely meant for kids a few years older than you, but she couldn’t lie, she was intrigued by the flashy yet elegant cover, curiosity bubbling inside of her. She had heard of the legendary children’s story that took the world by storm but she had never gotten the chance to read it herself, never even stumbled across the movies. All she knew was that it was about a wizard boy. Natasha felt a bit childish at the excitement that she suddenly felt and it was by no means the first time she had felt it when reading stories to you. She loved to experience all the iconic tales that had lightened up so many people’s childhoods even if she was already an adult by the time she got her hands on them. That didn’t matter to her because she could experience it all through you and connect with her own miserable childhood and maybe in some ways heal that inner child that still sometimes rose to the surface.

“Are you ready?” She asked, taking a peek at your face that rested against her shoulder, your legs lain across her lap, the book on top of them. You nodded your head, Natasha opening the cover, skipping the first few pages. “Chapter one, The Boy Who Lived”, she began, changing her voice from its mundane tone to the one she used when reading. It was a bit more formal and her annunciation was clearer, bringing a storytelling quality to her tone. You snuggled up against her, holding onto her shirt, your eyes shut as you imagined what Privet Drive and the Dursleys looked like. You giggled quietly whenever she lowered her voice to sound like Mr. Dursley or raised the pitch for Mrs. Dursley. She made them both sound annoying and tiresome which was loosely based on the character descriptions.

“Mommy, what’s a tabby cat?” You interrupted her for the third time already, eager to learn new things.

“It’s a type of cat with stripes, I think”, she hummed, frowning when she realized she wasn’t sure what defined a tabby cat.

“And what’s that peculiar-word mean?” You mumbled, squinting to see if the page had any interesting pictures for you.

“It means odd, unusual”, she replied, pressing her lips to your forehead as her eyes skimmed the page to find the spot she had been in so she could continue. You relaxed back into her body, listening to the even rumble of her voice, her accents and the different sounds she made sparking your mind with the most peculiar images, making you forget all about your sickly feeling. Slowly her voice turned into an even hum where you were no longer able to separate words, the world you had created in your imagination starting to slip away from you, fading into a ubiquitous darkness. You heard her flip the page, becoming more aware of your surroundings again, jolting slightly to prevent yourself from falling asleep.

“Wait”, you moaned, blinking your eyes open. “I have to see the pictures”, you mumbled, forcing yourself to look at the pages so you wouldn’t miss a single thing. Natasha found it beyond adorable, turning back the previous page to show you the small pictures on the margins. You studied them for a moment, nodding your head when you were done and she could flip the page again. “Mama, I wanna sleep with you tonight”, you said quietly before she had the chance to continue reading, her lips pursing at your request, chest blooming with warmth. “If I fall asleep will you take me to your bed?” You asked hopefully, glancing up at her, clearly fighting off sleep in your deeply relaxed state.

“I’ll make sure you sleep with me tonight”, she whispered, brushing her finger down the bridge of your nose a couple of times, smiling widely before going back to reading.

Chapter 19: Dingbat alert

Chapter Text

“Y/N!” Natasha raised her voice in the kitchen, immediately gaining your attention as you sat in your room surrounded by your school work. She sounded a bit disgruntled as she stared at the laptop screen in front of her, reading an email sent from the school. You had a feeling that you knew exactly what she had discovered, slowly tiptoeing out of your room to find her, purposely lingering outside the kitchen to gain some distance to your upset mother.

“What?” You asked softly, feigning innocence, but you had a guilty look on your face. You knew what you had done.

“I got an email from your teacher telling me that you’re displaying antisocial and violent behavior at school. Come here”, she said evenly, gesturing for you to come closer with her hand. You did as told, moving to stand beside her, carrying an air of retaliation around you. “It says you punched a kid in the face so hard his nose bled”, Natasha read quietly, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Is that true?” She asked, turning to you, her eyes scanning your face as you nodded. She sighed heavily, clearly upset by your behavior as she shook her head, reading parts of the email again. “Why would you do that?”

“He was begging for it”, you huffed, reminded of the events, an angry frown falling onto your face.

“Begging for it?” Natasha asked incredulously, shocked by your attitude. It was starting to sound like you weren’t sorry at all.

“Yes”, you nodded.

“Well, how did he beg?” She inquired, truly baffled by the situation. “Sit down”, she ordered, pulling up one of the dining table chairs for you.

“He called me a bitch”, you grumbled, the insulting word loaded with such venom Natasha was taken aback.

“And then what?” She asked, an appalled expression on her face, slightly ashamed to be intrigued by elementary school drama.

“Then I called him a dingbat”, you stated, Natasha letting out an amused scoff, bringing her hand to her mouth to keep herself from laughing. “He’s stolen Makena’s lunch a few times and he did so today too”, you explained, Natasha’s brows drawing into a frown.

“Honey, is that why you asked for bigger lunches?” She inquired softly, the pieces clicking immediately.

“Yeah. Me and Sav always share with her”, you admitted, Natasha brushing her hand over your head, petting you gently, a small pout on her lips.

“That’s very sweet of you”, she hummed, offering you a comforting smile. “So what happened today?”

“He took her lunch box and when I tried to take it back he pushed me and called me names. I told him to stop but then he pulled on my skirt so I punched him in the face”, you told her, looking down at the floor to avoid her disappointment. “I know I wasn’t supposed to”, you mumbled quietly, playing with your hands that sat on your lap, the knuckles of your dominant hand a bit bruised. Natasha’s gaze trailed down to your small and clearly capable hands, grasping the one on top. She bent the fingers carefully, testing your range of motion.

“Does that hurt?” She asked, receiving a shake of your head. “Good. It’s most likely just a little sore”, she whispered, her smile an attempt to cheer you up. “Do you want to know what mommy thinks of all this?” You nodded again.

“You did the right thing”, she hummed, your wide eyes rising up to meet her own. Her reaction was definitely unexpected, your lips parting in surprise. “You defended your friend, you told the bully to stop, and when he put his hands on you you defended yourself”, she explained, a proud smile on her face. It was all she could ever ask for. She had raised you right no matter how much the school tried to tell her that you were misbehaving. In Natasha’s opinion you were far from it which was something she was definitely going to bring up in the parent-teacher conversation the school wanted to have with the kids involved and their caretakers.

“A bleeding nose is a bit extreme for playground fights though”, she mused, earning a little smirk from you. She could tell you were nothing but happy about finally standing up for your friend. Maybe you had even thought about it before but hadn’t had the courage to go through with it. “We don’t want any real damage like a broken nose, right?” She questioned, waiting for you to agree with her.

“Right”, you nodded.

“Next time, if you have to punch someone you punch just hard enough to make them remember it”, she instructed. “Never aim in the eyes or nose because you can accidentally injure someone very severely. It’s better to target the middle of their body”, she continued, gesturing for your shoulders and abdomen. “However, if you’re in real danger you’re allowed to do whatever you can”, she reminded you, slipping in a bit of self-defense advice just in case, even if you wouldn’t be needing it on a playground. “But remember, always try to communicate first. Never lead with your fists”, she said in all seriousness. Despite being proud of your physical defense abilities she did not want the incident to become a regular in future. The kind of dedication and fire that you had inside you could easily result in trouble and as a child it was much easier to confuse the line between good and bad, to separate your emotions from your impulses. You nodded at everything she said, still seeming a bit confused by her acceptance. “Come here, baby”, she hummed, pulling you close enough to kiss your cheek. “I’ll make sure the school knows what really happened”, she assured you.

“You’re not mad? The teacher was pretty mad”, you mumbled, looking up at her with your adorable eyes, frowning sadly. “She yelled at me”, you whimpered bitterly.

“No, I’m not mad, sweetheart”, she said. “I’ll have a word with the teacher. Everything’s gonna be okay”, she assured you.

“And Makena can still sleepover tomorrow?” You inquired hopefully, nervous that your plans would have to be canceled because of your bad behavior. Maybe Makena’s mom didn’t want her hanging out with bad kids.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here”, Natasha nodded, brushing aside your hair. Makena was going to come over regardless of how you behaved because she needed a babysitter. You had invited Makena for a sleepover on the upcoming Thursday because her parents were going on a trip and the kids couldn’t stay alone at home, each of them staying somewhere else the night. It worked out perfectly for you and Makena because Natasha was able to both pick you up and drop you off at school. It was a bonus that her mother got along with Natasha and vice versa, your own mother having a tendency to black list people for the smallest of mistakes as well as what she considered “suspicious characteristics''.

“Mommy”, you whispered, gaining her attention.

“What, solnishka (sunshine)?” She inquired, co*cking her head and offering you a sweet smile.

“I need help with my Russian”, you whined, having a pile of homework on your floor that you hadn’t even touched yet because despite your language knowledge it was really intimidating and so was your teacher. Natasha had signed you up for Russian classes to attend a couple of times a week, just to ensure that you wouldn’t lose what little you had learned in your life. She also found it very useful and saw it as a way for you to connect to your roots as well as feel more included around her and Yelena. It was like your own secret language.

“Let’s go see what you’ll learn”, she said encouragingly, sliding her laptop shut and getting up from the chair. You led the way, skidding into your room, relieved you didn’t have to do it all by yourself. You knelt to the floor, searching for a couple of sheets of paper, opening up your text book that you couldn’t read at all because most of it was in Russian.

“I have to do these for Monday”, you explained, pointing at the letters that you needed to trace and practice, the other sheet displaying words you needed to translate and sort into grammatical genders. You had barely started on the letters, the first line of As neatly traced with a red marker.

“Okay, let’s start with the alphabet”, she hummed, looking over the work you had ahead. “Where’s your pencil?”

“Here”, you mumbled, crawling to the side and grabbing it from the corner of your carpet where you had thrown it in frustration, Natasha giving you a mildly confused look. You lowered yourself onto the floor, supporting your upper body on your elbows, pulling the worksheet and book under you.

“What’s the first letter?” She prompted, getting more comfortable on the fluffy carpet, her hand sliding down your back.

“I’m not sure”, you mumbled, tracing the lines of the letter Б, making sure it matched the example given.

“Smotri na kartinka zdez (look at the picture here)”, she instructed, pointing at the small image of a banana. “Chto eto? (What’s this?)” You looked at the image, very aware of what it was.

“Banana”, you replied in English. “So that’s letter B”, you reasoned, tracing it a few more times.

“Khorosho. Skazhi banan dlya menya. (Good. Say banana for me)”, she instructed, watching you process her words for a moment. “Ponimayesh? (Do you understand?)” You looked at her, clearly a little confused.

“Um, banana”, you replied in English again, not really understanding what she was getting at, some of her words not a part of your vocabulary.

“Б kak banan (B like banana)”, she explained to you. “Skazhi po-russki (Say it in Russian)”, she asked, watching you ignore her and move onto the next letter. She shook her head gently. Maybe she should’ve put you into Russian class a little earlier when you had been less stubborn. “I’m not going to help you if you’re not going to listen to my help”, she reminded you gently, earning a glance from you. “What’s banana in Russian?” She asked again, giving you another chance to fix your attitude.

“Banan”, you muttered, going back to tracing the third letter of the Cyrillic alphabet that was shaped like a B.

“Good. What’s the next letter called?” She asked.

“B”, you replied, Natasha feeling her patience get tested.

“We just had B. There’s only one B”, she reminded you, watching you work it out in your head.

“Then why can there be like a gazillion S letters but only one B?” You asked defensively, too tired to try to decipher a foreign alphabet even if you somewhat spoke it with your mother.

“I don’t know, I didn’t make it”, she countered, taking pity on you and answering her one question. “It’s a V, honey”, she revealed to you, pointing at the image of cherries on the side. “V kak vishnya (V like cherry)”, she added.

After a slew of letters your concentration started to wear off, your pencil tip wandering off to the sides, coloring the marginals with angry scribbles. The paper was slightly crumpled up, the edges abused by your fidgeting fingers. It frustrated you that there were letters like Н,В,P and C that weren’t at all what they looked like and were actually pronounced like the English N, V, R and S. You didn’t even want to try to process all the seven S-letters or the odd scribble that was the letter Д (D). Natasha could tell you were tired, deciding that it was better to take a small break or maybe even finish the homework some other night.

“They’re the same!” You cried desperately, trying to find anything that actually made Ш and Щ different. They sounded the exact same to you.

“Listen to me, solnishka (sunshine). Ш kak shapka i щ kak shchotka (Sh like hat and shch like brush)”, she tried to explain but you couldn’t listen anymore, it felt like torture to make your brain try to understand something it clearly couldn’t comprehend. Tears pricked at your eyes, your frustration bubbling to the surface, your stomach growling loudly. You were hungry and tired, and on top of it all you were incapable of understanding Russian. It upset you because you wanted to understand, you wanted to be cool like mom and Yelena, but it was just so hard.

“No! It doesn’t make sense. No!” You whimpered, hiccuping quietly, wiping your eyes rather roughly.

“Look at me, baby”, she said soothingly, her fingers caressing the underside of your chin. You blinked up at her, trying your best not to cry more. “It’s just like with З and Ж, remember? Change the position of your tongue”, she instructed, opening her mouth a little more to show you where you were supposed to place your tongue. “You know how to say zaika (bunny), right?” You nodded your head, sniffling quietly.

“Zaika”, you said, Natasha’s smile brightening.

“That’s it! And you still remember how to say zhiraf (giraffe), right?” She asked encouragingly, trying to make it fun for you because you were so close to being finished with the alphabet exercise.

“Zhiraf”, you nodded.

“That’s perfect! Pay attention to where your tongue is. Zaika in the front and zhiraf farther back. Got it?” She asked, her hand caressing the side of your head, trying her best to comfort you enough to get you through the exercise so you wouldn’t have to battle any longer with the single task when you had much more left to do.

“I think so”, you hummed hesitantly.

“Show me where your tongue is when you say zhiraf”, she told you, smiling softly at the way you bared your teeth for her to see the placement of your tongue. “And for zaika?” You moved your tongue to the front just a little shy from touching your teeth, letting out a buzzing sound for zaika.

“Excellent!” She cheered you on, nudging you a little, showing you just how impressed she was with you, praising you for your pluckiness. “Ready to try with shapka and shchotka?” She asked almost playfully, noticing the tone really worked wonders on you. “Say it with me”, she instructed, moving her mouth very clearly for you, purposely using an exaggerated manner of talking to help you catch onto the pronunciation better.

“Shapka”, you said with her, the s falling a bit flat.

“Very good. Try to think of a whooshing sound. You know how the wind sounds”, she continued, imitating the low whoosh of a wind with her voice, making all kinds of fun patterns, going high and low. You laughed at the funny sound, immediately trying to copy it. You found that much easier than thinking of any letters or words. It was like the wind, low and almost swishing. “And then you just say shapka.”

“Shapka!” You exclaimed, shocking yourself with how much better your pronunciation was. You sounded exactly like your mother had. “Mommy!” You squealed, overjoyed by your success.

“Yes! That’s my girl”, she exclaimed, welcoming you into the embrace you initiated. You were nearly vibrating in your boots.

“Shchotka”, you tried, pushing your tongue into the front like your mother had taught you to. “Did I get it?” You asked hopefully, pulling back to see Natasha nod.

“You got it”, she whispered, a proud smile on her face as she looked at your happy grin. You glanced at the rest of your homework that was still on the floor, your smile faltering. You weren’t done yet and you had other subjects too that you needed to work on.

“I have the other sheet still”, you mumbled, pulling away from her hug, your success long forgotten, replaced by disappointment. Natasha frowned sadly, unable to accept your sorrowful demeanor. You had succeeded and learned something new. That was enough for the night.

“Leave it, darling”, Natasha hummed, grabbing your hand to pull you back to her. “We’ll find the time to finish it later this week”, she reasoned, climbing up from the floor, her knees feeling a bit sore from being bent for so long. You looked up at her in disbelief.

“Really?”

“Do you want to do it?” She asked for confirmation, your head moving immediately in a disagreeing shake. “Then it’s settled. There’s no point in overworking you. It’ll only make you grumpy”, she said teasingly, poking you a little. “And I’d much rather eat dinner with a happy, little girl”, she mused, sliding her hands under your armpits when you reached up for her as a sign of wanting to be picked up. You still did that sometimes and Natasha was nothing but overjoyed to lift you into her arms, picking you up with ease, your legs wrapping around her waist. She found the weight of you comforting, a habit she had gotten used to during your toddler years.

“We have to be quick so I can go sleep”, you reasoned, looking at Natasha with a little grin as she walked out of the bedroom, turning off the lights.

“So early?” She asked in confusion, your nod confirming her your intentions. “Why so early?”

“So tomorrow will come quicker”, you revealed, a sense of understanding flashing across Natasha’s face. The sleepover.

You woke up before your alarm with the help of the pure excitement you were feeling that morning. You were an energized ball of lightning dragging a sleepy Natasha out of bed, bouncing around her bedroom, waiting for her to get dressed because you had had your breakfast before her alarm had even gone off and had nothing better to do. You barely even noticed how sluggish she was, her hair a frizzy, unruly mess, face pale and slightly puffy from sleep. You were too excited to function, waiting by the front door as Natasha poured her black coffee straight into a travel mug, slipping in a couple sugar cubes before grabbing a granola bar off the counter. Despite finding your excitement partly adorable she couldn’t help but to be relieved once you kissed her goodbye and ran through the school gates to meet with your friends. It was too early in the morning to hear so many children scream. Not to mention the screaming you and Makena would be doing at home in the blink of an eye, for Natasha that happened to be quite literal. She accidentally fell back asleep on the couch, spending the better half of the day snoozing away, drooling into the cushions.

•••

Natasha heard loud, joyous laughter from your room, followed by screams that could’ve shattered glass. Nevertheless she was relieved to know that you had friends at school and even more relieved to know that they and their families seemed to be decent people. You liked Makena a lot. She was your best friend, maybe even your first friend ever. You always had so much fun with her that you could barely contain your excitement. There wasn’t anything you couldn’t do with her. You liked the same games and movies. She loved the same stories and toys as you did. It was always so easy to be with her whether it was at school or at home, or at her place that you had visited a couple of times. They lived in Washington Heights, closer to the school than you did, the compound located farther in the north. Makena had an older brother Marco, two younger sisters Jackie and Alana, and a dog named Bruno. Her mother Vivienne had invited Natasha over just to show her around and assure her that you were in a safe environment with trusted people. Your mother was very cautious when it came to other people, especially when she had to trust you in the care of someone who she still considered an acquaintance which is why you had a cellphone you could use to text and call Natasha at any time, even at school if necessary. You rarely used your phone but it was something that gave your mother a feeling of security and peace.

Natasha’s grin widened as she listened to the unmistakable sound of excited little girls screaming, the piercing sound echoing throughout the entire apartment. She leaned against the frame of your bedroom door, purposely staying out of sight just so she could enjoy the happiness that billowed from your room, all sorts of toys littered across the floor where you had at least three different play sessions going on. She could clearly see the Barbies and your beloved Barbie mobile, a stuffed animal -tea party where Tootsie was wearing a princess dress and a tiara, and a third one that was clearly an imitation of house. The latest one you had only just started and you were assigning roles which Natasha found more than amusing.

“I wanna be mommy!” You whined, Makena frowning in disbelief.

“But I’m mommy!” She cried back, trying to pull on the purse that was clearly supposed to indicate who was mommy. It actually happened to be a purse stolen from Natasha’s closet, her brow arching as she recognized the piece that she thought had been lost for ages.

“I’m a girl”, you reasoned, Natasha covering her mouth at your unreasonable argument.

“I’m a girl too!” Makena pointed out, huffing in frustration. You stayed quiet for a moment, a pensive look on your face as you thought over your situation. “We can both be mommies”, you suggested, Makena looking at you like you were crazy.

“Well, then who’s gonna be daddy?” She asked, clearly puzzled, which made sense because she came from a rather traditional family, you however, did not.

“We don’t need daddy”, you scoffed. “We’ll be wives. Girls are so much cooler anyways”, you explained, clearly not too fond of the opposite sex, Makena needing a moment to process this revolutionary idea.

“But…what if we have to kiss? Girls don’t kiss like that”, she reasoned, trying to make sense of the new concept.

“Yes, they do”, you countered, Natasha unable to believe her ears, fully invested in the turn the conversation was taking. Makena seemed to ponder the idea for a while, clearly contemplating her options.

“Alright, well then we’re both mommies”, she agreed after a moment, nodding her head definitively. “We need another purse”, she mused as you handed her the one on your shoulder.

“I’ve got another one”, you announced triumphantly, pulling out yet another one of Natasha’s bags.The problem was solved and you could finally begin.

Natasha swallowed down her chuckle at the non-traditional version of playing house where you were cooking paper scraps in a bucket and Makena was bouncing Tootsie in her arms like she had seen her own mother do with her younger siblings. Natasha couldn’t help but to be amused, feeling like there was a good chance you wouldn’t be bringing home boys any time soon, if ever. She took notice of the way you stood on one foot, loosely stirring the pot, copying the stance that she often had when cooking you food, the bored look on your face really selling the imitation. Grinning widely, she returned into the hall, giving you two your privacy by going into her bedroom to go over some new mission files she got sent the day before. She was planning on returning to the field at some point, slowly including more work hours in her days to keep herself sane. She found it easy to immerse herself thoroughly in her work, her eyes scanning quickly over mission intel and reports. She worked specifically on files from any missions that the rest of the team had participated in, more than familiar with their way of operating. She was also good with planning attack strategies for certain buildings or people that needed to be approached with caution and care. She quite liked her job, especially when she could do it from the comfort of her own bedroom, knowing you were happy and safe in your own room and she was able to concentrate on work while consuming a whole bag of whole nut m&ms. Bonus points if you didn’t end up begging for a share of her candy.

In the evening you girls rushed out of your room in the middle of Natasha making dinner, both sporting disheveled appearances, one of Makena’s space buns missing a hair tie, her thick hair sticking up toward the ceiling.

“Miss Romanoff”, the little girl started, still a bit shy around Natasha. “Will you please fix my hair for me?” She asked nicely, offering a snapped hair tie to her. Natasha eyed the black rubber band, glancing at you after.

“Honey, go get a new one for Makena from the bathroom”, she instructed, turning the girl before her around to get a better angle of her head, Makena’s smile widening into a toothy grin. You bounced out of the kitchen, Natasha’s hands gathering the gelled up hair back into a tight bun, fingertips puffing up some of the hair to give it more shape as she waited for the hair tie.

“Is it true that you’re a superhero?” The girl asked, taking Natasha by surprise. Makena was often very shy and only resorted to brief greetings when around Natasha but somehow she had gathered up enough courage to ask her such an important question. “Y/N always tells people you’re gonna kick their butts”, she explained, Natasha’s eyes widening in bewilderment.

“She’s telling the kids what now?” She questioned playfully, hearing the child giggle.

“That you’re gonna beat them up”, she repeated, clearly amused by Natasha’s shock.

“I don’t know about that”, she hummed, shaking her head, a delightful smile on her face.

“Well, could you beat up bullies?” She asked, her voice much more quiet, Natasha reminded of the fact that Makena had bullies at school, or at least one particular bully. “Could you?” She repeated, turning around to see her face, Natasha’s hands slipping out of her hair. She looked at the girl for a moment, noting the sadness that shone in her eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do”, she hummed, her heart plummeting at the small, hopeful grin that spread on Makena’s lips.

“Here”, you chirped, offering the hair tie to your mother who caressed her hand down Makena’s arm, gently turning her around so she could finish doing her hair. You waited patiently so you could go back to playing again. Your hair wasn’t much better but Natasha and you were both used to it. She would fix it later. She stretched the elastic around Makena’s dark curls, wrapping the tie as many times as it would go to keep her hair secure. She flattened the bun with the palm of her hand to give it an even shape, turning the girl around again to see it from the front so she could make sure the buns were symmetrical.

“There you go”, she hummed quietly, her eyes soft and loving, her hand briefly touching the side of her head. “You look beautiful”, she praised, receiving a shy giggle before you both ran away to continue whatever it was that you were doing.

The night was filled with excited giggling all throughout bedtime, Natasha having no clue what was so funny all of the time. It also surprised her how both of you seemed to have endless energy in you, although some of that might have been her own fault for giving too much ice cream during dessert, but she just couldn’t resist watching you two pile syrup and candy over your bowls of ice cream, essentially creating heaping piles of sugar for you to consume. She just wanted you to have fun, considering your first ever sleepover a special occasion that deserved a celebratory amount of sweets. It also happened to be something she was very fond of, two big bowls of ice cream with a hefty amount of rainbow sprinkles and a caramel sauce drizzle barely enough to soothe her own sweet tooth.

The next morning Natasha got you both ready for school, making sure you were dressed up and eating breakfast on time, empathizing with your tired frowns. She knew you had stayed up all night because she too had been awake for the most of it, listening to your attempts at being quiet. Ever so often either of you would burst into giggles as you played with your dolls in the dark, giving away your little secret despite trying your best to convince Natasha that you were tucked up in bed. She hadn’t bothered to tell you to go to bed, knowing you would suffer the consequences of your own actions the next morning which Natasha couldn’t help but to be amused by as she watched you both struggle with your breakfast. Makena was leaning her face into the palm of her hand, eyes shut as she missed her mouth with the spoonful of cereal, the milk dribbling down her chin and back into her bowl. You weren’t doing much better, your face smushed up into the table, holding an apple wedge to your lips, nibbling tiny bites off the sour fruit, although Natasha had a feeling you were no longer conscious. After your incredibly slow and low-energy breakfast you were finally ready to leave the house, Natasha dropping you and Makena off at school, walking into the classroom holding both of your hands, Makena’s grip just a little tighter than yours, clearly nervous.

“Baby, why don’t you go sit at your desk?” She suggested, nudging you a little into the direction of your seat, letting go of your hand. She crouched down so that her face was level with Makena’s. “Who is it?” She asked, waiting for the anxious girl to point out the boy who was giving her trouble. Her finger rose up to gesture toward a blonde boy laughing with his friends, throwing around an eraser, the rubber hitting someone in the head, all of them bursting into loud laughter. She could see why they would be intimidating with their behavior, gently rolling her eyes at the children. “Go with Savvy and Y/N. I’ll take care of it”, she assured her, letting go of her hand, Makena unable to return the soft smile on Natasha’s face. The girl took a step toward your desk before halting, her smile brightening. She almost surged into Natasha’s arms, giving her a quick, shy hug before running off. Natasha pursed her lips, feeling a gentle tug in her heart, watching her go sit next to Savannah.

Natasha walked across the classroom to the blonde boy who was very obviously wealthy, maybe even wealthier than the rest of the private school class. He had an obnoxious dress shirt on and sharply tailored slacks with shiny black shoes. Somehow he was already painfully annoying solely based on Natasha's subtle observations. She had seen his father flaunt his shiny car that was every bit as vexatious as the father himself, Mr. Chambers. She stalked up to the kids, interrupting their clamor by her rather intimidating presence.

“You in the white shirt, come here”, she ordered, waving her hand to the side to get him farther away from his friends. He was very obviously confused by the woman he had probably never seen in his life, but oddly enough listened to her, albeit a bit reluctantly.

“What’s your name?” She asked, guiding him to stand to the side where it was more secluded from others, his blue eyes observing her, trying to find out what she wanted.

“Grayer”, he replied with a hint of arrogance in his tone.

“Uh-huh”, Natasha hummed, leaning closer to his face. “Listen up, dingbat. You lay a single finger on my daughter again and I’ll make sure that snooty, little ass of yours is gonna regret it”, she said in a restrained grumble, Grayer’s face going slack at the threatening tone. “If I ever hear that you’ve stolen Makena’s lunch again it’ll be the last time your daddy’s beloved Lamborghini goes out for a ride”, she hissed, smirking a little at the wide-eyed look on the boy’s face. She was getting through to him.

“Yeah, as if! My daddy-“ He started defensively, Natasha giving him a pitying look at the pathetic attempt to fight back.

“Once I’m done you’re not gonna have a daddy left to cry about”, she whispered back with a smile, his jaw falling open, a scared expression taking hold of his features. She knew she was being cruel to him, but if the teachers weren’t going to do it someone had to. He was clearly full of entitlement that he didn’t deserve, and Natasha certainly wasn’t going to just stand by and watch him bully her babies for the hell of it. Maybe a bit of a scare would knock some manners into him. “Now, get your ass back in your seat and behave”, she ordered, shoving him gently back to his friend group.

Who would’ve thought that she would some day come to use her superpowers to fight against schoolyard bullies. Natasha walked over to your desk, greeting your friends before kissing you goodbye. She ran into the teacher by the door, the young woman hurrying inside, carrying a pile of books. Natasha took a once-over of the classroom, her eyes landing on Grayer who was staring after her. She squinted her eyes at him, his gaze immediately turning to the teacher. Poor thing was probably scared out of his mind. She glanced at you once more, winking Makena’s way, the girl’s smile widening visibly before Natasha was out the door.

Chapter 20: Peach in June

Chapter Text

You woke up just a tad too warm in your bed, kicking aside the covers to cool yourself down a bit. You had slept in, the first day of summer vacation allowing you to sleep as long as you wished, Natasha also enjoying the benefits of such luxury, fast asleep in her bed. You tiptoed to her bedroom door, peeking inside to see the dim room, confirming that your mother was still in fact asleep. You made your way into the kitchen, your bare feet nearly silent against the cool stone floors, your pearl white sleeping gown flowing around your legs, the nightwear a piece of clothing that you loved a great deal because it made you feel like a princess. The apartment was silent, early morning sun shining through the blinds of the living room, giving it a yellow glow. You opened one of the kitchen cupboards, pulling out a container of chocolate puffs, making sure you were being as quiet as possible so as not to disturb your mother who was beyond sensitive to any kind of noise. You found yourself a large cereal bowl, pouring yourself a hearty amount of puffs before going to the fridge to find milk.

You carried the bowl of cereal over to the living room coffee table careful not to spill the milk onto the floors. You jumped onto the couch, smiling to yourself, grabbing the TV remote from the table, eagerly pressing the red on-button, searching for your desired channel, just in time for your favorite show. You lowered the volume immediately before reaching for the bowl, once again meticulous not to splash on the couch so you wouldn’t ruin the cushions. You felt at ease spooning the coco puffs into your mouth, huffing quietly whenever something funny happened on TV. You knew you had an exciting day ahead and you almost couldn’t wait for your mother to wake up so the day could finally start.

Natasha woke up to the quiet murmur of the TV, blinking her sleep heavy eyes a couple of times to get used to the idea of being awake again. She glanced at the screen of her phone, checking the time, mildly surprised that you hadn’t come to wake her up before 8am. She yawned, deciding to get out of bed to see what you were up to since you hadn’t come into her room to look for her. Natasha didn’t bother with pants, the apartment already warm enough as it was, definitely prompting her to take a look at the air conditioning to lower down the temperature that was starting to be too warm for comfort. She found you from the living room, the serene scene before her making the corner of her lip quirk up in a soft smile before she went into the kitchen to soothe her parched throat.

“Good morning, solnishka (sunshine)”, she hummed from the kitchen, gaining your attention for the first time that morning.

“Morning”, you chirped, scooping more cereal into your mouth, barely patient enough to glance away from the screen.

“I see you already got breakfast and everything. You’re gonna have me unemployed in no time”, she joked, walking over to you and bending over the backrest of the couch to press a kiss on the crown of your head. You beamed up at her, proud of your independence. “I’m gonna have some toast and maybe scrambled eggs. Do you want any?” She asked, her eyes moving to the screen to see what you were watching. “Mm, Kim Possible again”, she mumbled in amusem*nt, noticing that she had seen the redhead on the screen more than a handful of times that week.

“Uh-huh”, you nodded, a girl named Shego appearing on the screen. You glanced at Natasha to see her reaction, hiding into your bowl as you felt your cheeks flush. “She’s really cool”, you murmured, Natasha watching the two girls fight, plates flying everywhere, the green girl slamming Kim into a table. There was more green magic and grunts as Kim wrestled against Shego’s glowing arm.

“Did you want toast?” She asked you, amused by how engrossed you were in the show, earning a slow nod of your head, Natasha leaving you to watch your cartoons to find breakfast for herself. Her eyes spotted a pocket-sized digital camera on the kitchen island, a soft smile spreading on her lips as she grabbed it. She had charged it the night before so it wouldn’t die in the middle of your fun day, Natasha pressing the on-switch and aiming the lens at you, zooming in a bit to get less of the living room into the frame. She snapped a quick candid picture of you, the sunlight and your silky dress making you look more than beautiful. There was something so precious about your large cereal bowl and your focused eyes. You didn’t even notice her take the picture, Natasha unable to start her breakfast before she had given you another kiss.

Once the slow morning was starting to be in the wraps and your cartoon time was over you were ready to start the day. The first thing you did was get changed for your first beach trip of the summer, tugging on a new two-piece that you had gotten a week ago. It was neon green and frilled, decorated with rhinestones that would glitter in the sun. You were downright obsessed, doing a little runway performance for Natasha where you showed her how the pretty swimsuit looked on you even though you had already tried it on a bunch of times and she had seen it every single time. You covered yourself up with a loose summer dress and paired the outfit with flip flops because you loved the funny sound they made. While you were styling yourself to look like the coolest seven-year-old in New York Natasha was packing everything essential for the beach trip, folding up towels and a change of clothes, also making sure she had swimming goggles and toys for you. Finally, she grabbed some water and juice from the fridge, sliding the bottles into a thermostat bag that would keep them cold for the duration of your trip. You squinted your eyes as Natasha’s fingers spread sunscreen over your cheeks, lathering the thick, coconut-smelling lotion all over your face to avoid the harms of the sun. You weren’t exactly fond of the process, but you knew there would be no beach trip without your mother dousing you in sunscreen. Regardless of the unpleasant feeling on your skin you were beyond excited to go swim in the ocean and play outside all day. The drive to Long Beach went by surprisingly fast while listening to the happy songs that played on the car radio as you watched the scenery change. Before you even knew it you had arrived at your destination.

Natasha watched you run toward the shore, your flip flops flinging around sand as you sped by the dozens of other people who also had decided to have a beach day. She spotted a small, vacant area near enough to the water that she could keep an eye on you when you were swimming, spreading her thick blanket over the sand, setting down her bags to keep it in place. You tugged your dress off immediately, throwing your sunglasses into one of the bags, bouncing on your feet, unable to stay put.

“Can I go swim already?” You asked hastily, nearly vibrating from excitement as you waited for an answer.

“Come here, baby”, Natasha commanded, tugging you to sit down on the blanket. “Remember, no funny business. You stay where your feet touch the bottom, got it? And make sure you stay nearby”, she ordered, knowing you needed clear boundaries and rules to protect you because you had a tendency to forget all about them when you were in your own little world. You nodded your head eagerly, already standing back up so you could go into the water. “I’ll come with you later”, she promised, kicking off her sandals and opening the button of her black jean shorts, shimmying the worn denim down her thighs. Not patient enough to wait for her to undress, you bolted off into the waves, Natasha unbuttoning her loose-fit blouse to reveal her dark brown bikini that hugged her curves. The triangles of her top were made of ribbed fabric, a golden rectangle cinching it in from the middle. It was an old swimsuit she had had in her closet for ages but it never disappointed, always leaving her feeling comfortable yet just a little sexy. She left the blouse on, squirting some sunscreen into the palm of her hand, spreading it over her legs, already knowing she was going to go home sunburnt. Not really sure what to do next, she grabbed the camera from one of the bags, searching for interesting shots through the small screen, taking a couple of pictures of her surroundings and a few more of you in the water. She wasn’t exactly sure why she did it, but she grabbed the swimming goggles and put them on, the tiny sockets digging into her eyes, everything around her a hue of bright blue through the plastic. She turned the camera around, aiming it at her face and taking a picture to see how she looked before yanking the goggles off her head. There was a soft, amused scoff when she saw just how stupid she looked, giving up on the idea of photography. She scanned the shore, making sure you were in her vicinity before laying down on the blanket, basking in the warm midday sun that caressed her pale skin, an occasional, light breeze tickling her. She angled her head in a way that allowed her to keep an eye on you as she lay under the sun, feeling thoroughly relaxed knowing she wasn’t needed anywhere else.

Your concept of time was much different from Natasha’s and after you had chased the waves for a solid eternity you trudged back to the blanket in search of company, Natasha’s eyes barely even open anymore. You sat beside her in the sand, receiving a questioning arch of her brow to see what you were up to as you gathered sand into your hand and started to drizzle it into Natasha’s belly button. Neither of you said anything, Natasha allowing you to put small piles of sand over her abdomen, waiting for you to express what you wanted. While you continued to play with the sand without saying anything, she grabbed the camera from the blanket and took a picture of you, the device making a clicking sound that gained your attention immediately.

“Hey, you took a picture”, you pointed out, a shy smile on your face.

“Come on, sweetie, give me a big smile”, she prompted, building up your confidence for the picture. You did as told, offering her a toothy grin as you sat still, waiting for her to take your picture.

“Let me see”, you mumbled, Natasha turning the screen toward you, observing your reaction to the image.

“You’re such a gorgeous little princess”, she hummed, pulling the camera back to snap yet another picture of you. She smiled even wider when you giggled, trying to take the camera from her, the couple next pictures blurred by motion.

“I want to take one of you!” You exclaimed, reaching for the camera again, Natasha finally handing it to you. Instead of getting your mother’s face into the picture, you decided to photograph the piles of sand on her stomach, Natasha shaking her head in amusem*nt. “Don’t move”, you ordered, standing up and aiming the lens at her again, this time fitting most of her in the frame. Her legs were bent, the messy sand piles covering her abdomen as she looked into the camera, her hand raising up to cover her face so she wouldn’t have to squint at the bright sunlight. You snapped a picture, waiting a couple seconds to make sure the camera took it, looking at the small screen. “Look how pretty”, you said, giving the camera back to her, your focus shifting on the sand piles again. Natasha observed herself in the image, she didn’t hate the way she looked, feeling a fond smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

“Mommy, what’s that scar on your belly?” You asked suddenly, sliding your finger over the raised bump that was a couple of shades paler than her complexion. She put aside the camera, her other hand caressing your foot that was in her reach, blinking her eyes shut to avoid the blaring light of the sun.

“A bullet went through”, she mumbled, sounding indifferent, like it was just another feature on her body that you were curious about. She didn’t see the benefit of acting like it was anything special. Bodies were different, and accidents sometimes happened. The scar was no different from body hair, pores, moles or anything else you might have questioned before.

“A bullet?” You gasped in surprise. “Did it hurt?” You inquired in excitement at hearing such a wild explanation.

“Yes”, she hummed, smiling a little at the curiosity in your tone.

“How much?”

“A lot”, she whispered, cracking one of her eyes open to see your shocked expression. Your hands brushed the sand off her stomach, vigilant eyes trailing over the planes of her abdomen, suddenly noticing more than just one scar.

“What are these?” You asked, trailing your finger along small, white lines on her hip that had ragged edges. You could barely see them, the sunlight bringing out the different textures of skin. Natasha could have felt insecure with you pointing out every little detail on her body that most would’ve considered as flaws, but she didn’t have it in her to care.

“Stretch marks, honey”, she offered as an explanation. “I got those when I grew up”, she continued.

“How?” You asked in confusion, not sure what she meant.

“Sometimes your body just grows faster than your skin stretches and you end up with these tiny, tiny scars that heal over time and become almost invisible. Sometimes they’re bigger and more obvious and sometimes you can’t even see them”, she explained, knowing you were listening intently, eager to know more about the world around you. “The ones on my hip I’ve had since I was fourteen”, she added.

“You’ve been fourteen?” You asked in disbelief, unable to understand that your mother had once been a child herself.

“Yes, I have”, she chuckled, teasingly poking your side a bit.

“There’s no way!” You exclaimed, crawling above her to look down at her, your hair dripping cold water over her face. She winced, causing you to shake your head a bit more to annoy her.

“Alright, let’s go swim”, she huffed, tickling you enough to get you off her. She sat up, sliding the blouse off her shoulders before getting up and running after you. She dodged a couple of toddlers, easily catching up with you as her feet sank into the cool water, hearing your joyous laughter amidst the soft roars of the waves. It wasn’t very windy that day but the waves were a decent size, knocking you down with a single push, Natasha openly laughing with you and admittedly at you. Another large wave washed over you as you sat on the wet sand, throwing you back enough to make you tumble to the side. You wiped your eyes, screaming in excitement, the funny feeling of being knocked around making you cackle loudly. Natasha helped you up, sitting down beside you to experience it with you, the waves crashing into her chest, her arms keeping her upright. She didn’t mind the refreshingly cold water or all the sand that was wedged up every crevice of her body, she found it fun regardless, a wide grin on her face that she couldn’t seem to let go of. She huffed out a laugh when you got slammed into the sand again, very clearly enjoying the hilarious sight.

“Mommy, can we go where it’s deep?” You asked hopefully, knowing you weren’t allowed there alone, Natasha clambering up from the ground, her arm helping you to get onto your feet.

“Go ahead”, she hummed, watching you jump into the water, taking big strides to fight against the resistance of the waves. “Khoroshiy plovets (water-dog)”, she muttered to herself, following in your footsteps. It didn’t take long for the waves to lift your feet above the ground, your bodies conforming to the movement of the water. You found it incredibly fun when large waves would bounce you up and down, the feeling of weightlessness exhilarating. You laughed loudly, making all kinds of noises as you rode the steady waves for as long as they would allow, Natasha floating in the water, much less relaxed than by the shore even if you were doing just fine in the new depth that still allowed Natasha to stand with both her feet firmly in the ground.

“Look, mommy, look”, you told her, pinching your nose shut before you dove into a wave, barely going fully under the surface. You wiped your face rather aggressively to get the salt water out of your eyes before being able to open them, looking for Natasha’s reaction.

“Wow! Do you want to show me again?” She asked, feigning her excitement for your rather average skill. You nodded your head, diving again, this time deep enough that your entire body remained under the surface for a few seconds.

“Your turn!” You exclaimed, Natasha rolling her eyes in good nature as a smile spread on her lips. The waves had moved you closer to the shore, Natasha easily able to stand in the water that reached her ribs. She offered you a playful smirk, filling her cheeks with air to give her dive a bit more theatrics before sinking into the water. You could only see a bit of ivory and auburn in the distorted, slightly murky water, Natasha moving under the surface. She was under for much longer than you had been, making you wonder how she did it, suddenly feeling hands on your waist, the tickling sensation making you scream as you were tossed in the air, your uncoordinated limbs splashing in the water, your body sinking under.

“Again!” You screamed before you had properly even resurfaced, swimming back to Natasha, laughing maniacally. She grabbed you by the waist again, using her legs to spring you up enough to throw you in the air. It was the most fun game you could’ve ever thought of, repeatedly asking Natasha to throw you into the waves. She did it so many times that she was starting to think that her workout for the day was in the wraps.

“Mommy, mommy, can I sit on your shoulders?” You asked urgently, tugging on her arm to pull her lower so you could climb onto her, eager to try yet another fun trick.

“Mommy, mommy this, mommy, mommy that”, she muttered teasingly, guiding you behind her, arms yanking you up enough to help you climb onto her shoulders. You sat up comfortably, hands holding onto her head as you kicked your legs to splash water in her face, Natasha moving to the more shallow area so that your feet no longer reached the surface, her hips barely underwater.

“Hey!” You whined, the cool breeze erupting goosebumps over your skin, Natasha’s hands brushing over your shins in the front. She had to admit that she loved teasing you and often did so in a playful manner, just to see your reaction which was usually followed by uncontrollable laughter. “Go back into the water”, you ordered, trying to swing your legs to make her move. “Mommy.”

“Back into the water?” She asked, feigning the appalled tone of her voice. “Let’s get you back in the water”, she smirked, shoving your dangling legs up to drop you off, hearing a loud scream as you flipped in the air, your voice snuffed out by all the splashing. She knew you would find it funny, already smiling when you resurfaced with a bewildered grin on your face, ready to beg for more.

“I did a flip!” You announced, shocked by the experience, but more than excited to relive it. Natasha grinned down at you, briefly considering bringing Steve to the beach so he could throw you around more than you could handle. “Can I try standing?”

“Sure thing. Go ahead, love”, Natasha replied sarcastically, waiting for you to stand up in the shallow water.

“No!” You giggled, clambering up from the water. “I meant on your shoulders”, you laughed, already going around her and starting to climb up her. Natasha knew she was going to have at least five big bruises the next day, but she couldn’t say no to you. Every single giggle out of your mouth was worth any bruising she might get, her very soul at ease when you were having fun with her. She walked against the waves so that you weren’t as far away from the surface when you would inevitably fall from her shoulders. You inched up her back until your knees dug into her neck and upper back, Natasha offering her hands to you for support so you could step your foot onto her right shoulder, repeating the action on the other side until you were standing up.

“I’m doing it!” You exclaimed, gasping for air. You were so high up, feeling like the tallest person in the world, Natasha wincing when the side of your foot pressed down on her neck, knowing for certain that she would have a stiff neck for the next week or so. “I wanna try without hands”, you informed her, your entire body trembling, searching for balance on the uneven surface.

“Okay, honey, stay upright and tense your muscles”, she instructed, moving her right hand to your calf to offer some more support. You were swaying left and right, not even a little bit stable but you let go of her hand despite it, standing up straight before you wobbled forward, falling face first into the water.

You couldn’t think of anything in the world that could’ve been more fun, swishing and splashing in the water until you were exhausted and starting to get cold. You swam to Natasha, a large grin on your face, your hands wrapping around her neck as you pulled yourself into her embrace, your legs tightening around her waist. You needed a break from all the swimming, your arms and legs feeling weak as you relaxed into her, Natasha holding you close in the relatively deep water.

“Should we go get some juice in that tummy of yours?“ She suggested, hugging you softly as you nodded your head against her cheek, noticing a mark on the reddened skin of her left shoulder.

“You’ve got another scar”, you stated, feeling compelled to touch the white spot.

“Another gunshot wound”, she replied. You were still panting gently, clinging to her wet body as she walked to the shore, smiling softly, kissing your bare shoulder.

“Another?” You shrieked, pulling back to look at her in the eyes, your brows raised in surprise.

“Yes, another”, she chuckled.

“Mommy, you have to be more careful”, you whined as she set you down on the blanket, finding a fluffy towel for you from one of the bags. She wrapped you in it tightly to warm you up a bit, kissing your forehead chastely.

“I am careful, dorogaya (darling)”, she assured, knowing she was even more careful now than she had been back when she had gotten said gunshot wounds. Natasha was worlds apart from the person she had been before you. Now she had someone who needed her, someone who made her life worthy of protecting.

“Then how come you got so many scars?” You asked in puzzlement, feeling slightly upset by the clear indicator of Natasha having been hurt in the past. She had many marks on her body, most of them quite inconspicuous because they were so old, but regardless of that her story was mapped out on her body and sometimes it was too grave a burden for her.

“Mommy had a rough childhood”, she hummed, settling down on the blanket with you, pleased to feel the sun warm her up.

“Rough how?” You inquired, Natasha feeling slightly uncomfortable. You were too young.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older”, she answered, pulling out a towel to dry her hair with. “I know I have a lot of scars and you’re curious, but I’ll tell you everything when the time is right, okay?” She suggested, handing you the bottle of multifruit juice.

“Okay”, you nodded, screwing open the cork.

“Mommy doesn’t mind that you’re curious. You’re my baby after all”, she hummed in amusem*nt, pinching your toe to make you smile. “But some people who have scars might consider it rude if you ask about them, so it’s polite to not mention them at all”, she told you, feeling the need to teach you some manners as well. She didn’t mind a question here or there about her past or scars but when you tried to dig deeper it often made her defensive and irritated, knowing that if it was anyone else asking she would take offense in their behavior.

“Why?” You asked after finishing half the bottle of juice, offering it back to Natasha.

“It can be a sensitive topic and make people sad”, she replied, earning an understanding nod from you. She brought the mouth of the bottle to her lips, taking a long swig of the cold juice, feeling thoroughly refreshed by all the swimming she had done with you.

The day went by lounging around on the blanket, reading and talking. Natasha even took a small nap with you nuzzled to her side while you played with an action figure, occasionally sipping some more juice as you both dried under the sun, your skin and hair left sticky and dehydrated, but you didn’t care. When your stomach started to grumble rather loudly you finally left the beach, walking down Oceanfront to find a restaurant. You were clearly intrigued by a blue themed diner called Beach Burger, it being the first one you had even considered, Natasha noticing you become whiny and frustrated the longer you searched for a place to eat. Starving as well, she walked into the burger place, seating you down to go grab a menu. You ended up choosing an adult meal instead of anything from the kids’ menu, managing to convince Natasha that you were starving so badly that you would definitely finish the whole meal. She knew you were exaggerating, but let you have your way because she herself was feeling famished and she knew she could easily finish what you couldn’t. You tried to talk your way into ordering The Grand burger that was double beef and double cheese but that was where Natasha drew the line, knowing the meal was way too large for you and you would most likely end up with a stomach ache.

“Why don’t you take the Classic one?” She suggested, eyes scanning the menu for something she was craving.

“I want it double”, you huffed grumpily.

“Baby, it’s too big for you”, she reasoned, sensing a temper tantrum coming, so she pulled the waiter to the table and started to order. She took the Hightide burger for herself and allowed you to order your Grand burger which she later changed into the Classic one while you were under the illusion that she was going to use the restroom. You couldn’t even tell the difference, Natasha finding it more than amusing as you bragged about your not-so-giant burger. Finally, you got to split a mermaid cone with Natasha, the soft ice swirl covered in bright blue sprinkles. She made you stand your back toward the beach as you held the ice cream cone in your hand, taking a couple more pictures of you with the impossibly blue cone.

“Want me to take one for ya?” The sound of a middle aged man asked, his voice laced with a thick Southern drawl. Natasha turned around, the much taller man offering a charming smile.

“Yes, please”, Natasha almost whispered, suddenly realizing how much his offer meant to her. She really wanted a picture with you to remember the special day by, handing him the camera and walking over to you. She crouched down to your level, wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you for the picture, pressing her cheek against your own. The man snapped a picture, smiling at the scene.

“I oughta take another one. Y’all look as pretty as a peach in June”, he chuckled, readying the camera for a second shot, his silly idiom making you laugh. He took a couple more pictures, one with you both laughing, another where Natasha was kissing the top of your head and a third where the melting cone was smeared all over your face because you were too impatient to wait for the man to be finished with his pictures. Natasha licked the cone from the other side, saving your fingers from the blue that melted down the waffle, the shutter of the camera clicking again, capturing the moment where you both had your tongues on the ice cream. That one ended up being your absolute favorite and you even asked Natasha if you could get it framed to sit on your nightstand where you could look at it whenever you wanted to. It didn’t take much to persuade her to participate in such an idea.

Two hours later, Natasha parked her Range Rover in the compound garage, shutting the engine, a sudden silence engulfing you both. You shut your eyes swiftly, freezing still to make it look like you were asleep, patiently waiting for her to come get you. Natasha of course knew you weren’t asleep because you had been peeking outside no more than five minutes ago, but she had no problem with carrying you upstairs. She wanted to do it and more importantly wanted to play along with your little game. She glanced at the backseat, the activity rich day evident on your sun-kissed skin and messy hair. Your muscles ached and you were most likely a little dehydrated, but you didn’t care. How could you when you had had so much fun?

Natasha exited the car, unbuckling you from your seat and carefully moving you into her arms as if you were actually asleep. She shut the door, making her way to the trunk to get her bags before locking the car and walking toward the elevator. She hugged you to her chest, your hair carrying just a hint of the smell of salt water, your skin possessing only a ghost of the coconut sunscreen. She kissed your warm shoulder, nuzzling her nose into your neck to breathe in your scent. You moved against her, hugging her tighter, Natasha’s mouth curving into a smile as her free hand rubbed your back soothingly. An intense feeling of contentment washed over her once she opened the door to your cooled down, dim apartment, feeling more than satisfied by the successful first day of summer vacation. She dropped the bags down, but kept you in her arms, walking over to the couch where she sat down, taking advantage of the opportunity she had to hold you in her embrace for just a little longer.

Chapter 21: Tooth fairy

Chapter Text

“My tooth is moving. Mom!” You exclaimed from the backseat of the car on your way to the mall. “Look!”

“Honey, I can’t look, I'm driving a car”, Natasha explained, hearing an annoyed huff from the backseat. “Baby, I’ll check it out the first thing when we park”, she promised you, turning to the parking lot of the mall.

You had insisted on coming with her, most likely possessing an ulterior motive of getting something special from the store. It was one of your go-to moves. Her eyes scanned for a free spot among the lines of cars, finally discovering an empty space between a black Cadillac and a blue Volkswagen, Natasha steering the wheel to the right to fit her Range Rover into the spot. You kept wiggling your loose lower incisor, a slight, metallic taste on your tongue from forcibly tugging on the tooth all day. A few of your teeth had fallen out before, including the outer incisors of your upper teeth that were already growing in, flashy and sharp, but every time you discovered a new tooth that gave in to your touch you felt a thrill of excitement for it, always too impatient to let it fall out on its own. Once the car came to a stop you started to tug on your seatbelt to get it off, but you couldn’t quite reach the buckle, patiently waiting for Natasha to come help you as you swung your legs into the back of her seat, not quite hard enough to count as kicking so Natasha wouldn’t tell you off for it.

“Let’s see that tooth”, she noted, once she opened the back door, reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt. You bared your teeth at her, pointing to the loose tooth and bleeding gums, an impressed smile falling onto Natasha’s lips. “Look at that”, she mused, helping you out of the seat to stand on the concrete. “You think it’s gonna fall off soon?” She asked, earning a confident nod. “Alright, but keep your hands out of your mouth for now, okay? They’re gonna get dirty in the store”, she reminded you, slamming the car door shut and adjusting the purse on her shoulder. You nodded again, running through the cars to get to the front doors.

“Baby, don’t run!” Natasha warned immediately, knowing that it took less than a split second to get run over at a full parking lot where it was easy to appear out of nowhere especially if you happened to be a small child. You slowed down your pace, waiting for your mother to catch up with you. Once she was close enough you sped up again, running through the doors, your sneaker getting caught in the grates at the entrance, hurdling you straight into the slow automatic doors that had yet to react to your motion. All Natasha could do was watch your face slam into the moving doors as you fell onto the entrance mat that covered the floor tiles. She ran after you immediately, hurrying to your side, her face forming a mild wince as she knelt down beside you, afraid to find out the extent of your injuries. You looked at the floor beneath you, your entire face burning from the hit you had taken, a bloody tooth laying under you as you hoisted your upper body off the floor. You spat out blood, another crimson covered tooth falling beside the first one. There was a quick pause as you processed the events before you emitted a long cry, accompanied by instant tears.

“Oh my god”, Natasha mumbled under her breath, helping you off the floor to get a better look at your bleeding mouth. “Shh, darling”, she hushed you, pulling you closer, your face pressing into her neck as you screamed your little lungs out, trembling from pain. Your knees were scraped up and ached along with your elbows, but the worst part was your mouth. Your lip felt numb, yet you knew it hurt, you could taste the blood on your tongue, your gums radiating a sharp pain throughout your head at the forced loss of your teeth. Natasha pulled back enough to see your watery eyes despite your protests, bringing her thumb to your tender lip, gently raising the bloody upper lip to see the damage done to your teeth. She spotted two dark red spots where your front teeth used to be, producing a bit more blood than a loose tooth would have since they were knocked out prematurely. She knew they were milk teeth which was a huge relief to her, her concern shifting to the split lip that dripped blood down your chin. You cried loudly when her thumb made contact with the irritated skin right by the wound.

“I know it hurts, milaya, ya znayu (honey, I know)”, she tried to console you, continuing to hush you gently. “Let mommy take a look, okay?” She said, frowning as she studied the cut to determine whether it needed acute medical attention or not. It was very clear that the wound was quite severe, maybe even deep enough to need a stitch or two, your lip slightly deformed by the injury,

Natasha picked up the two teeth from the floor, pocketing them to leave a little less frightening scene behind as she hurried back to her car with you in her arms. She put you back in your seat, pained by the agonizing cries you let out, watching you thrash around in your seat because you didn’t know what else to do. She opened up the trunk of the car, her hands hastily searching for an emergency kit among all the junk that had been left to lay around in the back of the car. She unzipped the red bag once she found it, digging out an ice pack and gauze before slamming the trunk shut. Natasha came back to you, pressing the folded up gauze to your bleeding lip.

“Hold it there, myshka (little mouse)”, she instructed, moving your hand to press over the bandage to control the bleeding as she burst the small bubble of water inside the instant ice pack, feeling it grow rapidly cold to touch. “Can you hold it in place while mommy drives to a hospital?” She asked, trying to look you in the eyes to get a better idea of how bad the situation really was. You nodded your head, a new wave of tears cascading down your cheeks as you hiccuped loudly. “That’s it. You’re a big girl”, she whispered in encouragement, squeezing your knee as a comforting gesture. She shut the car door, getting into the driver’s seat and speeding away.

To her utter relief the emergency room had staff and beds available, the nurses welcoming you inside immediately, ready to take care of you. She didn’t leave your side not once while the doctor examined your split lip. By that time you were no longer screaming from shock and pain courtesy of the nurse who had given you pain medication as soon as your situation had been explained to her, allowing you to sit still while you were getting treatment. The doctor who was sitting in front of you, stretched your top lip up with his glove-covered hands to see the condition of your bleeding gums. You glanced at Natasha, reaching for her with a sad frown on your face, your eyes glossed over. You were scared and still most likely in a small amount of pain, Natasha immediately scooching closer to you on her plastic chair and grasping your hand in her own.

“You’re such a brave girl”, she whispered, offering you an encouraging smile, her thumb rubbing circles into the smooth skin of the back of your hand.

“Your mommy’s right”, the doctor agreed, using a cotton swab to spread antiseptic over the laceration, careful to not get any of it in your mouth. “You’re doing so well”, he assured you both, turning to Natasha. “I’m going to put a single stitch on her lip to hold the edges even in order to minimize any scarring and hopefully there will barely be a mark to remember this unfortunate event by”, he explained, gesturing around your face and lips as he used his hands to demonstrate his approach on your treatment. Natasha nodded her head, not really caring what he had to do to patch you up. She just needed you to be okay. You squeezed your mother’s hand as hard as you could when the doctor pierced your skin with a syringe needle, injecting you with a dosage of lidocaine to numb your lip enough to relieve the pain of the stitching needle. After only five minutes your lip was completely numb, your round eyes turning to Natasha once again as you opened and closed your mouth, trying to feel your top lip.

“Is it moving, mommy?” You asked expectantly, Natasha leaning a bit closer to see better.

“No, honey, it’s not moving”, she replied, observing you carefully, playing along with you to make the experience a bit more pleasant. “Are you sure you’re trying to move it?” She asked, feigned skepticism in her voice.

“Yes!” You squeaked defensively, trying to bare your upper teeth, or rather gums by curling your lip up but it wouldn’t budge.

“That’s what happens when the muscles are numbed. It affects the nerves in the area and blocks the pain”, he explained, his tone of voice letting Natasha know that he was used to children. You found it amusing, giggling quietly as your hold on Natasha’s hand started to loosen. You weren’t that scared anymore, curiously following the doctor’s movements to see what he was going to do to you next. Your eyes crossed as he brought the curved needle to your lip, but you couldn’t quite see what was going on, his hands working the thread through your skin, stitching the laceration shut.

“There you go, young lady”, he stated, his work on you finished in under ten minutes. “It’s all better now”, he assured, turning to Natasha for the paperwork she needed to fill. “I’m going to prescribe her some pain medication to relieve any aches that might follow. The lidocaine will most likely be effective for the next two hours or so. You should return in five days to remove that stitch. I know she took a pretty gnarly fall so if anything out of the ordinary comes up please don’t hesitate to contact me”, he instructed, writing something down on a form in front of him before he turned to you again. “I suggest you eat lots of popsicles to ease the swelling, and you’ll have to stick to soft foods for now. That means no chips or candy”, he told you, smiling softly. You nodded your head, moving to the edge of the bed to hop off it. “After 24 hours make sure you wash around the cut with clean water at least twice a day and try to keep it clean in general. Avoid anything that might cause the wound to reopen”, he added, Natasha listening intently so she wouldn’t miss anything important, absentmindedly welcoming you into a hug, her hand caressing the side of your head as you rested your cheek against her breast. You were clearly tired, leaning heavily on Natasha, something you did very often when exhausted and in need of comfort. She dropped her lips to the crown of your head, kissing your hair as she squeezed you tightly, feeling the way your arms wrapped around her waist in a loose hug. She thanked the doctor on multiple occasions, the man gaining even more respect from her when he offered you a SpongeBob sticker for being such a good sport. You walked out of the emergency room hand in hand, Natasha watching you study the fun sticker as you made your way to the car. She buckled you in, kissing your forehead briefly.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asked quietly, observing your face for any signs of discomfort as you leaned your head into the side of the seat. You nodded your head, trying to smile but the local anesthesia was still working full force. “Will you be okay if we stop at the pharmacy and grocery store for those meds and popsicles of yours?” She inquired, offering a playful smile because she knew you were a sucker for anything sweet and cold. You nodded again, letting out a giggle that was slightly unsettling because your face didn’t match the happy sound you made. She kissed your forehead again, thumb stroking your cheek. “Okay, you just sit tight”, she hummed before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine, heading to the closest pharmacy she could find, making sure it was near a grocery store so she would only have to stop once.

A little over an hour later you were sitting on the couch of the communal living room, suckling on a Bomb pop, hissing quietly when the cherry flavored ice made your sensitive gums ache, Natasha turning on the TV to watch the six o’clock news. You were feeling much better with the effect of painkillers and your ice pop, following the news from the corner of your eye even if you didn’t understand most of the things they were discussing. You leaned your head against Natasha’s arm, your eyes searching for the remote so you could possibly change the channel to watch something a bit more interesting, but when your fingers grasped the remote that sat beside her she smacked your hand away. You only shot her a grumpy frown before focusing back on your popsicle, finding yourself to be bored once you ran out of your sweet treat. You tried to change the channel again to see what else was on but after your second attempt at stealing the remote Natasha grabbed it out of your reach, still sucking on her first ice pop as she followed the news anchor intently, for some reason caring about something as insignificant as stock market crashes. The second you heard someone come in you perked up, leaning over the couch backrest to see who it was.

“Guess what happened?” You asked impishly as Tony walked in, heading for the fridge, a piece of unfinished tech in his hand, a bunch of hologram screens following him around. He turned to look at you and Natasha on the couch, slightly shocked by your presence, having been too immersed in his work to even notice that anyone else was in the communal spaces. He took a double take at your busted up face that was still quite swollen, the screens shutting off as he placed the tech on the kitchen island, walking closer to you with a worried frown on his face.

“What happened to her?” He asked Natasha, clearly concerned about you, his hand cupping your chin and tilting it up enough to allow him to see the stitch on your lip.

“I fell!” You announced before Natasha got a chance to respond. “Look”, you told him, bringing your hand up and lifting your still numb upper lip to show off your bloody gums.

“What?” He asked in shock, peering at your lacking teeth. “How the hell did that happen?” He inquired, unable to fathom how you suddenly had two teeth missing.

“And look, look!” You added, moving your hand to your lower teeth, wiggling the one that was still loose and remained in your mouth.

“She slammed her face into the mall doors”, Natasha hummed, trying not to chuckle because in hindsight when everything was okay and you were safe it was kind of funny, Tony wincing as he pictured the accident.

“Owie, what are you supposed to eat with no teeth?” He marveled, tilting your chin again to see better into your mouth, a couple molars missing from you.

“Popsicles!” You giggled, pleased by the attention you were getting. It was all so exciting.

“Popsicles, of course”, he reasoned. “How didn’t I think of that”, he hummed theatrically, pulling back and patting your head. “Try to keep the rest of those intact, okay?” He said, unable to hold the smile that tugged on his lips. You nodded your head, glancing down at Natasha’s hand that caressed your leg absentmindedly.

“Do you know where Steve is? Where’s everyone?” You inquired, eager to show them what had happened to you, Natasha trying to encourage you to stay on the couch and take it easy, but you just didn’t have it in you when you had something so cool to share for once.

“Uh, I think I saw him in the east wing, doing some arts and crafts or something”, he replied, watching your eyes light up immediately as you hopped off the couch, heading for the elevator, Tony going back to his tech, screens lighting up once again.

“Y/N!” Natasha exclaimed, gaining your attention in an instant, halting you in your tracks. “No running. You saw what happens when you run where you’re not supposed to”, she reminded you, giving you a stern look. You nodded your head, waiting a second to see if she had anything else to say before speed walking out of the living room.

Once you were out of her sight you sped up your steps, running through the halls at full speed even though it made your bruised knees ache. You reached the elevator, the doors sliding open to reveal Wanda inside, her curious eyes taking a look at your flushed appearance as you panted gently.

“In a hurry?” She asked you with her calm and quiet tone, her hand hovering above the elevator buttons to silently ask you where you were headed.

“Look”, you said brightly, instead of replying to her question, the doors sliding shut. You displayed your mouth to her, Wanda’s brows furrowing in obvious concern as she crouched down to your level.

“Oh, dear, are you okay?” She asked, sounding quite alarmed, but it just made you giggle.

“Yes, I’m fine”, you chuckled. “Look I can’t move my top lip cause the doctor man put this needle into my face”, you explained, trying your best to move the muscles of your face, your top lip remaining still.

“What happened?” She inquired, feeling herself grow a bit protective over you, her maternal instincts kicking in despite recognizing that you were clearly not in danger anymore.

“I fell”, you explained, the doors to the elevator opening. “Clint!” You screamed, your pronunciation of everything slightly off due to your unmoving top lip. He looked at you for a moment, noting the stitch and your swollen lower face. He eyed Wanda, silently asking the question that was so popular that day.

“Look, look, look!” Wanda and him shared a frown, both just as puzzled by your injury and excitement, Clint taking a look at your mouth to see the damage.

“That’s quite a blow you’ve suffered”, he mused, his hand brushing down your cheek in a comforting gesture. “Where’s mommy?” He asked in confusion, Wanda clearly not accompanying you if her polished appearance was anything to go by. Clint noted her long dress and glossed lips, Wanda’s cheeks dusting a gentle pink.

“I have a date”, she whispered, Clint nodding in understanding, offering her a knowing smirk.

“You look pretty”, he offered, Wanda responding with a smile that was just a little brighter than before.

“Mommy’s in the living room”, you stated, completely missing the small conversation they were having without you. “I’m looking for Steve”, you continued, not exactly sure in which part of the East wing he was. “And I was looking for you too, and Bruce and Sam cause they haven’t seen this yet”, you explained, pointing at your mouth. “And Pepper!” You gasped, realizing you wanted to show her too.

“That I can help you with”, Clint chuckled, pressing the button for the floor where Pepper’s office was. The elevator doors slid shut, taking you a floor lower. You waved goodbye to Wanda and Clint, rushing toward Pepper’s office, already spotting her strawberry blonde hair through the glass walls.

“Peppy! Peppy!” You shouted, barging into her office where she was stacking papers and folders on top of each other, organizing the finished load of work.

“Y/N! Come in”, she said, despite you already being very much inside. “What are you doing here?” She inquired, pushing her office chair back when you rounded the table to get to her. You could once again point out the exact moment when she took in your swollen face, her lips parting in surprise. “Baby, what happened to you?”

“I knocked my teeth out”, you replied proudly, showing her your gums. She wore a shocked expression on her face, peering at your raw lip and the bloody dents that were in place of your lost teeth.

“Wow, that must have hurt a lot”, she marveled animatedly, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks affectionately.

“It wasn’t that bad”, you lied, wanting to seem tougher than you had been after your accident, your attention starting to shift to something else. You dropped your gaze down to Pepper’s stomach, reaching your hands for her bump. “You’re not supposed to be working”, you remembered suddenly, giving her an inspecting frown. “Why are you working?”

“Shh, don’t tell anyone I’m here”, she whispered secretively, pressing her finger to her lips, earning a smirk from you in return.

“Clint knows you’re here”, you told her, Pepper letting out a soft sigh.

“Well as long as Tony doesn’t”, she chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

“Can I listen for the baby?” You asked hopefully, your hands petting her belly with gentle strokes.

“Sure”, she hummed, guiding your ear to the bump. “Be careful, it might kick”, she warned halfheartedly, your eyes widening in surprise as you listened for the baby inside her. It made no noise, just like Pepper had told you before, but you still liked to try, just in case.

“Does it feel weird?” You asked, pulling away to look her in the eye.

“The kicking?” She asked for clarification, earning a nod from you.

“It did at first, but I think I’ve gotten pretty used to it by now”, she mused, caressing her belly with a small smile on her face.

“What’s it feel like?” You inquired, ever so curious about such an intriguing phenomenon.

“It’s a fluttering sensation most times. Have you ever had butterflies in your tummy?” She asked, getting an affirmative answer from you. “It feels a bit like that and then other times it feels like bubbling, almost like popcorn popping”, she explained, her smile only widening as she recalled the feeling, wistfully waiting for another kick from the baby just to feel the sensation of being connected to it. You looked at her with a hint of awe in your eyes, trying to imagine how it would feel. “What are you here for?” She finally asked after a stretched moment of silence.

“I came to show you my face”, you said brightly, Pepper shaking her head in amusem*nt. “I’m also looking for Steve”, you added, glancing up at her expectantly, hoping she could help you.

“Why don’t we ask Friday?” She suggested, your face telling her that you had completely forgotten that you could ask the all-knowing AI for just about anything.

“Yes, Mrs. Potts?” The smooth female voice of the AI asked politely, Pepper giving you a look, indicating that you should make your request.

“Miss Friday, will you please tell me where Mister Rogers is, please?” You asked, feeling a little nervous. You didn’t get to talk to Friday that often, your language sounding a bit foreign to your own ears, Pepper omitting a chuckle at your attempt at being proper.

“Mr. Rogers is painting in the gallery, Miss Romanoff”, Friday replied, her gentle voice whirring above you, Pepper watching your face light up at the important piece of information. You immediately hurried to the door, already on your way when Pepper exclaimed after you.

“Don’t tell Tony I was working!” She chuckled in amusem*nt, watching through the glass as you ran along the hallway. “That goes for you too, Friday”, she added pointedly, shooting a look at the ceiling above her.

It didn’t take you long to finally find Steve, who was completely immersed in his painting, working on a street view of New York. His work was a bit more abstract, but still distinct enough that you could tell there were buildings and cars. The background had a lot of grays and muted blues, allowing the car headlights and lit-up windows shine bright in hues of yellow, white, and orange.

“Wow”, you marveled in awe, staring at all the colors that lived on the canvas in perfect harmony, complementing each other more than well. He turned around sheepishly, giving you a shy smile. He didn’t share his art often but you were definitely one of his biggest fans. “That is so cool!” You praised, walking closer, leaning into his knee as a sign for him to lift you onto his lap where you liked to sit. You continued to look at the canvas, your eyes traveling to the side table that held all his instruments. There were tubes of paint littered on the surface, a wooden palette with multiple shades of paint mixed on it. He had a couple of paintbrushes as well as some weird metal things that reminded you of a spoon except they were flat where a spoon would be curved.

“What are those?” You asked, pointing at the tools, the tips covered in paint.

“Palette knives”, he said. “They’re used to mix and spread the paint. Like here”, he explained, pointing at the spots on the canvas that had been done by using the palette knives, making a clear distinction between a brush stroke and a knife stroke. You nodded in understanding.

“Can I try?” You asked hopefully, always eager to try new things.

“Of course. Here”, he offered, grabbing one of the palette knives and scooping some yellow on its tip. “Hold it in your hand like this”, he instructed, wrapping your fingers around the wooden handle before guiding it to the canvas. “You can do the other headlight of that car. All you have to do is tap it softly to leave a small dot behind. Be gentle with it”, he directed, supporting your hand from the elbow as you hovered the knife above the blue of the painting.

“Can I?” You asked for confirmation, quickly glancing his way to make sure.

“Go ahead, doll”, he nodded, knowing he could easily fix the painting if your result wasn’t what he was looking for, the spot he had chosen simply consisting of a couple different shades of blue and gray that were very easy to replicate and use to cover up any mistakes. You pressed the knife to the surface, leaving behind a warm yellow dot. “You can try another one there. Swipe the knife straight down, okay?” He guided you, using his hand to demonstrate the movement you should make. You repeated the action, gliding the knife down to create a fading stripe of yellow. You were surprised how nice it looked and even more surprised that you had done a decent job.

“How’s that?” You asked, turning around to look at him, his eyes finally getting a proper view at your face. He pulled back a bit to see your lip better, tilting his head as he inspected the neatly done stitch. “You did an excellent job”, he assured you, his frown not matching the praising tone of his voice. “When did this happen?” He asked, his large hand cupping the side of your head.

“Today. I fell”, you mumbled, no longer that excited about it as you felt the prominent ache slowly return to your face, your top lip feeling much warmer, like it was irritated. You lifted your top lip with your fingers, feeling a sharp sting, the effects of the lidocaine finally starting to wear off.

“Oh, wow. You must be the tooth fairy’s favorite client”, he hummed, trying to cheer you up a bit after noticing that you seemed slightly bummed out.

“The tooth fairy”, you gasped, unable to believe that you had forgotten such an important aspect of your accident. You lost two teeth. You would get double the money. “I hope mommy has my teeth”, you mumbled to yourself, setting the palette knife down on the side table. You leaned back into Steve’s chest, your head pressing to the side of his own. He could tell from your demeanor that something wasn’t quite right.

“Everything okay?” He asked in mild concern, rubbing your belly gently.

“My head hurts”, you mumbled. “I hit it pretty hard”, you reasoned, trying to massage your forehead to alleviate the pain, but it had no effect since the worst of your pain was located in the region of your mouth that you couldn’t touch because you knew it would only make it worse.

“How ‘bout we go find mommy?” He suggested, his voice low and soothing.

“Will I get a piggyback ride?” You inquired hopefully, hearing him chuckle.

“We’ll do piggyback”, he agreed, grabbing you by your waist as he stood up, hoisting you to his shoulders in one smooth movement, practically without any effort. You were still as light as a feather to him.

When you finally returned to the communal living room you found out that almost your whole family was gathered around the lounging area, Natasha in the middle of explaining something. You frowned, confused by their presence as Steve sat down on the couch, allowing you to climb down.

“Why are you all here?” You inquired, clearly puzzled.

“Milaya (honey), you’ve been running around the compound showcasing your busted up face. People are gonna have questions”, she explained, hiding her amusem*nt at the tooth-debriefing she was having with the rest of the team, currently in the middle of explaining to them what had happened whilst assuring everyone that you were going to be as good as new once your lip healed.

“Okay, well, I told them I fell”, you huffed, but let the topic slide because you had something much more important on your mind. “Mommy did you get my teeth? For the tooth fairy?” You asked in visible concern, Clint smilingly widely at your hasty tone. Natasha paused for a moment, trying to recall if she did anything to the teeth or if they still sat in the pocket of her jacket.

“I’ve got them”, she promised you, earning a relieved sigh from you as you slumped into the cushions. Natasha could easily recognize the pain signals you were showing, her brows furrowing at your lethargic attitude as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Does it hurt?” She asked softly, pulling you to her side, her arms wrapping around your middle. You nodded, looking up at her with your sad eyes, a concerned pout on Natasha’s features.

“It burns”, you mumbled quietly, your eyes glinting a little more than usual, not far from shedding tears. Your head felt like it was being squished by something large and heavy, creating a feeling of pressure inside your skull, not to mention the sharp ache in your gums and the sensitivity of your top lip that you couldn’t move because you knew it would make your pain worse.

“Okay, I’ll get you some of those painkillers”, she mumbled into your hair, kissing the top of your head, her hold on you tightening. She was just so glad that your injuries weren’t any worse, feeling immense relief over the fact that she didn’t have a reason to be worried about you, although she was going to worry herself sick regardless. She already had a feeling that she wasn’t going to sleep all night because she would have the compulsive need to check in on you every other minute.

“And an ice pop?” You asked knowingly, Natasha giving you a small smirk.

“And an ice pop”, she nodded in agreement, standing up and briefly cupping your cheek before heading for the kitchen.

Chapter 22: My only sunshine

Chapter Text

“Hit harder”, Natasha ordered, taking languid steps as she rounded from behind you, observing your form when your hand connected with the chest of the beige mannequin again. “Don’t get sloppy on me now”, she warned, noticing your punches lose their form once you added more power to the impact. You let out a grunt, drenched in sweat, your lungs burning from effort. You really wanted to get better. You wanted to be the best. “Keep them sharp, precise- yes!” She praised, your fist connecting with the rubber, letting out a dull smack. “Take some distance. Good”, she instructed, watching you take a couple of steps back to put some more space between you and the dummy. “I want you to try the 360 kick”, she said, crossing her arms as she smirked at your slightly panicked expression. “You know the steps. Make your aim and go”, she told you, gesturing toward your target. She saw the moment you decided to go for it, gathering all your courage to include the specific move you had been practicing for weeks now.

You took a quick, shallow breath, taking a step forward into a defensive stance, turning half a circle to switch sides before alternating the leg you kept your weight on by doing a swift hop. You placed the leg that remained in the air in front of you, once again alternating the sides before twisting your torso away from the target to charge your roundhouse kick with all the energy you could possibly muster. Your bare foot smacked into the dummy, a loud grunt falling from your lips. The impact faltered your balance and you thumped onto the mat beneath you, panting heavily, your tired hands coming up to your forehead to wipe away the sweat.

“Excellent work!” Natasha cheered, coming over to you and crouching down to be able to high-five you with both hands, receiving surprisingly firm slaps despite your worn down exterior. You let out an exhausted moan, slumping to the floor, your body relaxing against the slightly cushioned surface.

“Was it good?” You asked in a hasty exhale, swallowing thickly as you tried to catch your breath.

“It was really good. Powerful and fast, but your aim was a bit off”, she answered, your face falling slightly. “You’ll get the hang of it eventually”, she said encouragingly. “It’s a difficult move.” You nodded your head, closing your eyes as you evened out your breathing, Natasha handing you a water bottle to soothe your dry throat. “You’re done for the day”, she hummed definitively, not wanting you to overwork yourself even though your enthusiasm would’ve surely allowed it.

“I wanna try one more time”, you persisted but Natasha shook her head.

“No, myshka (little mouse), you can try it next time. Now it’s time to rest”, she told you, chuckling quietly when a huge pout appeared on your face.

“Can I stay while you workout?” You asked hopefully, Natasha offering her hand to you in order to pull you up.

“Sure, I don’t see why not”, she hummed, moving to the direction of the weights section of the gym with you hot on her heels.

“Are you gonna lift today?” You asked, taking another swig of your water.

“That’s the plan”, she replied with a nod, moving her arms around to warm them up a bit more even though she had already done her warm ups with you about an hour ago.

“I bet you can’t lift me”, you smirked, Natasha giving you a look. She could most definitely lift a little delinquent like you in various different ways. Your body mass of around 60 pounds/27 kilograms was nothing for her.

“Oh, we’ll see about that”, she said playfully, knowing what you were after. She put her arms down, seizing her warm up as she walked closer to you. “Come here”, she mumbled, yanking you up into her arms with one quick scoop, your legs wrapping automatically around her waist.

“This doesn’t count!” You announced in a hasty giggle as she tickled your sides, her mouth blowing a raspberry into your neck.

“What do you want then?” She inquired, her eyes inspecting your excited face.

“Squat me”, you chirped. “I bet you can’t”, you added as if you ensure that Natasha had a reason to show you she could.

“Squat me”, she muttered in feigned annoyance as she set you back down, sliding her arm between your legs to wrap it around your thigh, her free hand grabbing your arm. You practically flew onto her shoulders, hanging there limply as you giggled. Natasha had carried full grownups out of collapsing buildings on her shoulders. To her you were nothing but a bag of sand.

“Now squat”, you commanded, Natasha’s legs bending as she lowered herself into a squat. You waited for her to come up but to your surprise she jumped, a shocked, joyous scream falling from your lips. She landed softly into another squat, jumping up again, doing five repetitions in total.

“How’s that for a squat?” She asked, hearing nothing but laughter from you as you clung to her desperately, trying your best to stay on her shoulders.

“Again”, you whined, kicking your legs a bit to ask her to move, your grip tightening to prevent yourself from sliding down her back.

“Again?” She asked teasingly, building your excitement up a bit more. You nodded your head, Natasha adjusting her grip before she jumped again, your laughter echoing in the empty gym.

You were relentless with your little bets, curiously watching as Natasha loaded a barbell with plates, prepping her equipment for deadlifts. You wanted her to pay more attention to you since you weren’t allowed to touch the weights without her supervision, doing your very best to distract her from her workout session which was exactly why she didn’t workout with you too often.

“There’s no way you can lift that”, you commented, Natasha chuckling at your behavior. “I bet you can’t even lift me”, you challenged, hearing a small scoff come from her.

“Get on the floor. I’ll use you as a warm up”, she chuckled, settling to stand beside you as you lowered yourself onto the floor. “Cross your arms and legs”, she instructed, demonstrating the movement with her own arms, a smile spreading on her lips at how happy you looked. She bent her upper body, reaching down for you, her hand clamping around your bicep, the other pressing into your inner thigh. “Tense your body. I can’t lift a squiggly worm”, she reminded you, smirking down at you as she lifted you off the floor with ease, doing so many repetitions that your limbs started to ache from how tense you were keeping yourself. But it didn’t take you too long to recover, already betting her to hip thrust you next. That one was beyond hilarious to you, reminding you of a rollercoaster. You couldn’t believe how strong she was, giggling loudly when she brought her hips up with such force that you nearly bounced off her lap completely, unsure if she was purposely trying to throw you on the floor or not. Regardless of her intentions you were more than overjoyed to get even a moment of her attention before she had to ditch you for the barbell. You couldn’t understand how she was capable of lifting her maximum weight of six plates on each side and on top of it all do repetitions with the astounding amount of weight. You watched in awe as she worked, wishing you would get the chance to try to lift it as well, but you knew she wouldn’t let you even if you asked. The very moment she was finished with her set, the weight thudding to the mat beneath her, you were ready for more, betting her to bench press you next as she moved on to set up the bench for her use.

“I bet you can’t make any more bets”, she responded, earning a laugh from you as she lay down and lifted you above her, doing her best to balance you in the air so you wouldn’t tip off her and the bench.

“Hey!” You exclaimed in offense. “Then how will I get you to lift me?” You whined, holding onto her wrist to remain steady as she slowly did a couple repetitions, your weight noticeably more on the muscles of her chest and shoulders. She let out a soft groan, tilting your body to the side so your feet hit the ground and you could stand upright again.

“By doing what I tell you”, she huffed, smirking at you. “Go stretch. I’ll finish my workout and we’ll have dinner after, okay?” She suggested, inching higher on the bench so that she was comfortably located under the bar.

“Wouldn’t it be more fun if I was your weight?” You protested, lingering beside her, Natasha letting out a quiet laugh.

“Go stretch”, she said firmly, earning a heavy sigh from you.

“Fine”, you grumbled, Natasha patting your lower back encouragingly before going back to her bench presses, clearly able to hear your little stomps as you returned to the cushioned mats and sat down to stretch. You really didn’t like stretching at all. It was your least favorite part of your training sessions whether you were with your instructor or your mother. You hated how much it hurt to stretch for the flexibility that you needed for kicks and many other stuff. You knew just how important it was, but despite its benefits you found it boring and painful.

A long, steaming hot shower later you were sitting at the dinner table with Natasha, scooping up a big forkful of creamy tortellini into your mouth, humming at the delicious taste despite being more than tired from your eventful day. You stared ahead blankly, your mind a huge mess as you recalled your day, remembering a bunch of details that flashed across your mind. You speared a piece of chicken, bringing it to your lips absentmindedly, Natasha observing you with a hint of amusem*nt. At times like these she couldn’t even comprehend how adorable you were, feeling a sudden urge to smother you with love. She smiled softly, taking another bite of her food before reaching for her glass of water.

“You’ve had a long day”, she stated, observing your slow movements and droopy eyelids, gaining your attention immediately, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah”, you mumbled, rubbing your eye a bit to fight off the exhaustion you were feeling. “We had PE at school”, you mumbled, starting to really feel the effects of all the exercise you had been doing that day.

“Would you like a bedtime story tonight?” She asked knowingly, watching a small smile spread onto your lips as you nodded.

“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?” You asked hopefully, Natasha’s smirk only brightening. You couldn’t wait to know what would happen now that Charlie had gotten his golden ticket.

“That would be the one”, she hummed, gathering some of her side salad onto her fork.

You couldn’t wait to get into bed under your warm and thick covers, surrounded by your stuffies as you leaned into Natasha’s thigh, listening to her soothing voice, waiting for sleep to come. You could already feel the sweet relief of your soft bed and the darkness behind your closed eyelids, quickly finishing your dinner to get to bed a bit faster. Natasha cleaned up the kitchen while you brushed your teeth, putting the dishes into the dishwasher and wiping the table clean before accompanying you in your bedroom. She sat onto your bed next to your pillow, waiting for you to cuddle into her thigh like you always did, your arms hugging her leg to your chest, face pressed into the fabric of her pajama pants. She began to read, the first twenty minutes of the story interesting until you started to feel frustrated with the sleep that didn’t seem to come. After thirty minutes Natasha’s voice finally quietened and she shut the book, marking her spot for the following day before prying you gently off her leg, thinking you had fallen asleep like normally. You didn’t dare to move, too afraid of scaring your sleep away, your mind feeling groggy and slow. You allowed Natasha to kiss you good night, her warm lips pressing to your forehead a couple of times, her hand smoothing over your hair. She brought her mouth to your ear, a nearly imperceptible whisper coming from her, the words “I love you” causing a soft smile to tug at your lips. Maybe sleep would come eventually.

You tossed and you turned, but you couldn’t sleep, something from school on repeat in your mind. You sat up against the headboard of your bed, huffing quietly, angered that you couldn’t force yourself to fall asleep whenever you so wished. You held on to Tootsie, hugging him to your chest for comfort as you tried to figure out an answer yourself. You knew you weren’t normal, you weren’t like other kids at school and it made you feel different, like you were an outcast. You loved your mother and she was very important to you, but you didn’t have a father. You knew everyone had to have a mother and father, so where was your father? How come your mother never talked about him and why didn’t you have grandparents? You had so many questions but not a single answer. There were kids at school who were missing a father or a mother but most of them seemed to at least know who they were even if some didn’t like their parents at all. It was very confusing to you and unfortunately Tootsie wasn’t of any help. You glanced at the clock on your night stand, knowing Natasha was already asleep. It was way past bedtime, even for her, but you knew you couldn’t sleep before you got some answers so you got out of bed, tucking the teddy bear under your covers and leaving the room. You tiptoed to your mother’s bedroom door, twisting the door knob open and stepping inside. You walked to her bedside, gently nudging her with both hands to wake her up, Natasha sighing softly as she started to gain consciousness.

“Mommy”, you whispered, nudging her again, feeling urgent with your dilemma. She rolled around under the covers to face you, blinking her eyes open, only able to see your outline in the dark.

“What is it, myshka (little mouse)?” She asked in a quiet murmur, finding your hand to grasp it in her own.

“I need to ask something”, you stated, Natasha automatically making room for you in her bed by scooching back enough to fit you next to her, but you didn’t move.

“Ask away”, she mumbled, her eyes closed, thumb swiping gently over the back of your hand.

“Mommy, where did I come from?” You inquired, the loaded question taking Natasha by surprise. Her eyes fluttered open to try to see your face, brain attempting to figure out an answer that was appropriate for a conversation to be had in the middle of the night.

“Um”, she started but she couldn’t come up with anything reasonable to say, always having avoided the topic because the thought of you having so-called real parents made her stomach twist in knots.

“I need to know, mommy. I can’t sleep”, you pleaded, tugging on her hand to get her out of bed, Natasha closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. The time had come. She couldn’t avoid it anymore. She shoved the covers aside, sitting up and abandoning the comfortable warmth of her bed as well as the very inviting dreamland she had just been submerged in.

“Alright, baby, we’ll talk on the couch, okay? Do you want tea or hot cocoa?” She asked, walking you into the kitchen, still holding onto your hand as she turned on the lights, making sure they were on the dimmest setting possible.

“Cocoa”, you hummed, watching her switch on the kettle before grabbing mugs from the cupboard. You helped her find the cocoa powder and milk, doing your best to be quick so you would get your answers faster.

“Are you comfy?” She asked as you both sat on the couch, wrapped up in blankets, each nursing your own steaming drinks. You nodded your head, feeling a little anxious, your feet and fingers cold as you trembled lightly.

“So…” She started, exhaling softly as she gathered her thoughts. “You know how babies are made”, she stated, knowing she had explained it to you before. Mothers gave birth to children after having sexual intercourse with fathers. “I didn’t give birth to you. I adopted you when you were around six months old”, she explained, staring ahead as she recalled the memories from eight years ago.

“I know I’m adopted”, you replied, looking down at the chocolate drink in your hands. She had explained it to you that time you had asked where babies came from. She was beating around the bush, trying to figure out anything reasonable that wouldn’t make you feel as bad as the truth would. Natasha really didn’t know how to explain anything without having to reveal parts of her past that she wanted to keep uncovered.

“You’re from Russia”, she said finally after swallowing a mouthful of tea. “I saved you from a collapsing building”, she told you, watching your eyes widen in surprise, it was definitely something you hadn’t expected. “I was on a mission. You know how mommy goes on missions for work?” She asked you, making sure you were following. You nodded again, staying silent so she would keep going. “There was this school in Russia that I went to ever since I was a baby”, she started again, her racing mind making the telling of the story advance very poorly, causing a bit of confusion for you but you pushed through. She stayed silent for a moment, taking pauses to piece together a child-appropriate version of the events, doing her best to include everything necessary without revealing anything too grave.

“It was a very scary, bad place. I was there for years, until I turned eighteen and escaped. It was so awful that I wanted to make sure the school got shut down, which is why I returned years later to do just that”, she continued, purposely leaving out Budapest and Dreykov’s daughter to avoid adding any unnecessary details to the mess that her story already was. She sniffled, looking away to avoid your innocent eyes that were loaded with curiosity.

“I went back into the Red Room –the school– to save all the other students who were going through what I had gone through”, she whispered, her voice feeling weak, the thought of you in the Red Room making her stomach plummet. You didn’t dare to let out a peep, observing your glum mother, waiting for her to keep going. “And you were there”, she revealed with a broken voice, doing her best to not sound so grave, but she found it more difficult with you looking at her like that.

“Why was I there?” You asked, opening your mouth for the first time in over ten minutes.

“Honey, you were one of the students, just like me when I was a kid”, she clarified to you.

“But I was a baby”, you protested in confusion. You had never heard of schools for babies. They were supposed to stay with their mothers until school or kindergarten.

“They started school really young there”, she explained, continuing the story to get through the worst of it as soon as possible. “I shut down the school, making sure that it would never, ever go into business again. I destroyed it with Yelena and just as I was leaving the exploding building I heard a baby cry. That was you”, she revealed, her finger pressing your nose gently like a button, a smile spreading on your face. She could see the excitement on your features, see the eagerness at finally knowing a new piece of who you were and where you were from. She knew what it was like to have someone withhold information about her past and she understood your pain. It was the sole reason why she felt the need to be completely honest with you.

“Was Yelena with you in the school?” You asked her quietly. “Is she really your sister? Maybe I could’ve had a sister there too”, you mused, Natasha feeling like she couldn’t continue the conversation anymore. It went against every single fiber of her being to keep going and break the perfect illusion you had been living in. She took another sip of tea, forcing back any negative emotions she was feeling in order to keep herself together.

“Yelena and I are sisters, but not by blood. We met in the school and we’ve known each other almost for our whole lives”, she said, earning a disappointed nod from you.

“So I don’t have siblings”, you hummed, looking away.

“Milaya (honey)”, Natasha whispered, reaching her hand for your forearm to console you. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have people that you love around you”, she reasoned, trying to comfort you. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone who you love so much that you feel like they’re your family. Or maybe you’ve already got someone important like that in your life”, she suggested, hinting at Makena because she knew the girl was the closest thing to a sister that you had ever experienced.

“Like Makena?” You asked immediately, cheering up a bit at the possibility.

“If you so choose.” She offered you a soft smile, your own smile widening.

“What about my real mom and dad?” You asked suddenly, the suggestion that Natasha wasn’t your real mother making her whole body ache. She knew that you were referring to your birth parents but it still hurt because she saw you as her own through and through, and nothing in the whole wide world was able to change that.

“I was just getting to that”, she said, her voice gentle as she took the empty mug from you and placed it on the coffee table alongside her own mug. You glanced at her empty hands and lap, wiggling down onto the couch so your head was resting on her thighs, facing up to have her in your line of sight. She tucked the blankets around you a little tighter, offering you a comforting smile as her hands remained on your body, caressing your head and chest absentmindedly. “Because of the school I don’t know my parents. I was so young that I don’t remember ever seeing them in my life. I was taken from my parents. I don’t even know their names. I don’t know anything”, she admitted, feeling slightly nauseous, the topic of her parents always a tough one for her.

“But who sang you lullabies and tucked you into bed every night?” You asked in confusion, not able to grasp not having someone like your mother around. “And who did you sleep next to when you had nightmares?” You continued, frowning sadly up at her, your tone tugging at her heartstrings, Natasha’s eyes shining with tears as she tried to blink them away. “And what about kisses and cuddles? Who gave you kisses and cuddles?” You asked in very visible concern, unable to imagine anything worse than not getting that kind of affection from your mother.

“No one, honey. I never had a mommy or a daddy”, she whispered, her voice breaking, conveying only a fraction of the anguish she was feeling. “That’s why you don’t have grandparents”, she lamented, refusing to include Alexei or Melina in the mix because they didn’t even deserve to know you, Natasha unable to let go of the grudge she still held against them for not fighting harder for Yelena and her. “And that is also why I don’t know who your parents are. No one knows where the girls of the Red Room come from”, she explained, feeling like her reasoning for everything was a letdown for you. She wished she could’ve given you it all: both a mother and a father, two sets of grandparents, and possibly even a couple siblings, but her non-consensual hysterectomy was not something she needed to bring to the surface at your ripe age of eight years old.

“That’s okay”, you said after a long pause of complete silence, not quite able to process what you were hearing because life outside of Natasha didn’t exist for you. It was all too far out of your reach and held very little significance to you. There were no memories of a time when you hadn’t been hers, so none of it mattered. “I don’t need them. I have you”, you reasoned in a quiet whisper, hoisting yourself up into a sitting position to hug her as tight as you could, a soft sob escaping her as she encased you in her arms, squeezing firmly. “I can be your mommy”, you suggested, Natasha’s watery chuckle making you laugh as well. The offer was beyond sweet and it made her heart ache to know how much you cared about her. “I can sing and tuck you to bed”, you continued, pulling back to bring your index finger to the slope of her nose, brushing it down the gentle curve, repeating the soothing gesture that Natasha had used on you your whole life. Her features softened visibly as she took in your beautiful face, watching a shy smile spread on your lips.

“How do you always know which lullaby to sing?” You asked suddenly after a moment of silence where you had tried to figure out something to sing for her.

“I just choose one that feels right”, she mumbled, closing her eyes when your finger brushed down her nose again, her hands caressing your waist softly. You seemed to consider your options before you readied yourself, adjusting your position on her lap to be more comfortable.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine”, you began, maybe slightly off key, your voice a bit raspy, but the tears were instant for Natasha regardless of your singing skills. She felt them slip down her cheeks from under her closed eyelids, the urge to break out into sobs squeezing her throat harshly. The lullaby you had chosen was one that Natasha had started to sing only a few years ago, but it made her heart ache worse than any other song could have. “You make me happy when skies are grey”, you continued, your voice a little squeaky on the higher notes. You frowned when you saw her cry, noticing that she was clearly struggling to hold it together.

“Mommy, it’s supposed to make you happy”, you pointed out with a huge pout on your lips, Natasha’s eyes fluttering open.

“I am happy”, she protested in a gentle chuckle.

“No, you’re not”, you countered, wiping her tears with the sleeve of your pajamas.

“Come on, what’s next?” She prompted, already seeing your eyes glint a little more than normal in the dim lighting of the living room, desperate to distract you from her own pain.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you”, you tried, but your lower lip started to wobble, Natasha bursting into sobs as she hid her face into her hands, the lyrics of the lullaby only seeming to make it worse for her. She held her breath, forcing back her tears, forcing herself to be quiet before it would be too late to hold anything in. She took a quick breath through her parted lips, wiping her eyes.

“Please don’t…” She sang, urging you to go on despite her strong emotional reaction to the song and the situation, her fingers caressing the side of your head.

“…take my sunshine away”, you finished the song together, your own tears spilling over as you looked at her with your big eyes.

“Mommy, I love you”, you whimpered, the corners of your mouth turning downwards as your features formed into a sorrowful pout.

“I love you more, baby”, she sniffled, cupping your cheeks in her hands to bring you a bit closer, her lips pressing down on your forehead.

“I don’t wanna lose you”, you cried, both the lullaby and the idea of not having a mother making you feel scared. “What if something happens?” You sobbed, your voice creaking as another wave of sobs fell from your lips. “And I don’t have my mommy”, you whimpered, Natasha biting harshly down on her lip to control her emotions.

“Listen to me, angel. You will always have me”, she said firmly, looking you in the eyes. “Always, you hear me? Always”, she promised you, earning a soft nod of your head, bringing you into her embrace where she knew you would feel safe and comforted. She swayed you a bit in her arms, hugging you tighter, allowing her tears to fall. The thought of leaving you all alone in this world was something she could’ve never forgiven herself for. You deserved the world, you deserved more than Natasha could ever give you. She knew she couldn’t give you everything, she couldn’t be everything for you no matter how much she wanted to and she hated herself for it. She could never be perfect for you. And unfortunately, she was the only person who couldn’t see just how perfect she already was. She had given you so much more than you could’ve ever even thought to ask for. She had given you a home, a huge family, by blood or not, it didn’t matter. You had everything. The whole world was wide open for you, filled with every opportunity you could think of, but more importantly, you were loved. You were loved and you knew it. Every day she made sure you knew it.

“You’re the best mommy in the world”, you mumbled into her shirt, rubbing your face against her neck affectionately.

“Thank you, malyshka (baby). That’s quite the compliment from the best daughter in the world”, she mused, pulling back to see your face, her lips finding your warm cheek, a soft smile adorning your features. You inched low enough on her body to place your head back on her lap, nuzzling your face into her abdomen, curling into a tight ball as your tears started to cease. You were exhausted and Natasha could tell, her eyes finding the clock on the wall. It was nearing four in the morning, Natasha’s own eyelids feeling heavy as well.

“Did you have any more questions?" She asked softly, brushing her knuckles down the side of your face as you fought the sleep that was trying to take you.

“What was I like when you found me?” You asked quietly.

“Oh”, Natasha chuckled fondly, wiping her tears away. “You were an infuriating, little snotball”, she teased, poking you gently to hear you giggle. “You screamed all day every day and puked and pooped on all my clothes”, she continued, feeling a smile form on her lips as she looked down to see your closed eyes and small smirk. “But you were every bit as adorable as you’re now. You had these huge, vigilant eyes that would always follow me around. You were such a beautiful baby”, she mused, reminiscing about your past, feeling a weight lift off her chest at the change in topic.

“Was I funny?” You asked, half-asleep under the blankets.

“You were a hoot”, she hummed, brushing her fingers down your nose one by one. “A real jokester”, she assured you, smiling wider. “You never failed to make me laugh. You would always chew on my fingers and tug on my hair”, she mumbled, remembering very clearly what kind of a baby you had been.

“What made you wanna keep me?” You asked tentatively, sounding a little shy. Natasha went silent, thinking over her answer. There were many reasons, but only one of them stood out to her.

“I realized… that no one in this world was going to understand you and your past as well as I would. We come from the same place and it made me want to take care of you, give you a better chance with someone who understood you.” Her tone was gentle and comforting, the low timbre of her voice what eventually lulled you into sleep. Despite knowing you were no longer conscious, Natasha continued to talk to you, telling you all about how she had felt when she was still learning to look after you. She relived a bunch of memories as tears continued to cascade down her cheeks. No matter how much she loved you and no matter what she did for you she still felt like an inadequate mother and she needed to let those feelings go in order to be better for you, finding out how much talking to you helped her, even if you were asleep.

When the clock struck five in the morning Natasha finally decided that it was time for her to hit the sheets, her arms sliding under your body to carry you into bed. She halted at your door, glancing down at your serene face, feeling a gentle pull in her chest. After a moment of consideration she walked past your door and took you into her bed, tucking you in tightly to the middle of the mattress where you would have all the space you could ever need before crawling under the covers as well. She didn’t know how long you were going to tolerate sleeping next to her and she wanted to take every chance she got before her bed would remain empty no matter what kind of dreams or issues you had at night. She rolled onto her side, pressing her nose against your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your pajamas as her hand found your forearm to caress. She could feel the waves of anxiety ebb away from her tired body, listening to the even breaths you took, her eyelids sliding shut on their own. She had never known peace like you.

Chapter 23: Morgan

Chapter Text

There was a loud, horrendous scream that echoed through the apartment, Natasha grimacing when she heard something hit the wall rather forcibly. You screamed again, a high, piercing sound that was filled with rage. You clearly kicked something over, a loud rustle sounding from your room as you took your anger out on everything you owned. Natasha placed the heavy pot in her hands back into the sink, wiping soap suds off her hands before making her way into the hallway to find your room. She could already see the mess you were making of your room, careful not to step on the pile of dolls at the entrance of your room.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid”, you grumbled to yourself, throwing Tootsie across the room, the poor bear flipping in the air before smacking into your bookshelf.

“Y/N-sweetie”, Natasha started softly, calling for your attention, very displeased by your behavior, but choosing not to show it. You turned to look at her as if in defiance, sniffling loudly before kicking over your Barbie castle. “Y/N”, she repeated more firmly, adding a sense of order into her tone. You became a bit more tentative, eyeing the pink castle on the floor as tears brimmed in your eyes. “Come here”, Natasha said, waiting patiently for you to stomp over all your toys to get to her. You gave her a grumpy frown, crossing your arms rather theatrically as you pouted up at her.

“What?” You mumbled, averting your gaze because she was still your mother and you were not one to fight with her. You would always lose. You knew that.

“We should talk”, she said, seeing your frown only deepen.

“I don’t wanna talk. I’m going to move away”, you stated firmly, Natasha raising her brows in shock. “Yeah, I’m gonna move away to get away from you cause you’re so stupid!” You threatened, Natasha’s eyes landing on a backpack that sat in the middle of the room, a princess dress halfway stuffed inside it. She felt a small twinge of insecurity within her, choosing to push that feeling down, too afraid to address it. You had called her names before in the heat of the moment and they were usually very shallow, holding no real insult behind them, but you had never wanted to leave your home before. Rationally she knew you were being a normal child, but emotionally she was struggling to keep herself together and keep herself from falling into a rabbit hole of doubt.

“I know that you’re upset and that is okay, but what’s not okay is you calling me names, breaking your toys, and making an even worse mess of your room”, she chastised, crouching down to pick up a baby doll that was missing a leg and had purple and green lines decorating its bald head. She showed the doll to you, co*cking her head questioningly. “Why did you do this to poor Annabelle?”

“Cause she’s an ugly, bald bitch”, you shot back, Natasha doing a double take at your words. You could see your mistake very clearly on her face, her mouth hardening into a thin line as she looked at you with her firm eyes.

“I’m going to give you five seconds to word that better”, she stated evenly, your tears spilling.

“I hate you!” You shouted suddenly, demanding every ounce of Natasha’s patience. Your words hurt her no matter how much you didn’t actually mean them. You had still felt enough negative feelings toward her to say such a hateful thing, a flush of disappointment washing over her. She had raised you to be better.

“Hating me and being mean isn’t going to change how you feel. I didn’t deserve that”, she whispered definitively, backing away from your room, deciding that you needed some more space to sort out what you were feeling. She wasn’t going to stand around and take your bad behavior when she had done nothing to deserve it. She saw the panic settle in you, your angry frown disappearing, morphing into a scared one. “Come find me when you’re ready to apologize”, she added before she was out of your sight. Your eyes scrunched shut as a sob escaped you, resonating in your room and down the hall. You sank to the floor, your knees giving in, your body curling in on itself to seek comfort. You cried openly for the hurt you felt, unable to find the strength to go after her. You hadn’t meant it. You really hadn’t. You just didn’t know how to express the feelings you had inside you. There was so much disappointment and anger, all of it heightened by your exhaustion from the previous week of school and practice. You immediately regretted your words after seeing the hurt cross your mother’s features. It was too much for you to bear. You never wanted to hurt her, at least not as much as you had.

Natasha had heard the phrase in question from you before, having a feeling that she would hear it again in the future, but as she sat on the couch, fervently fighting back her tears, she felt nothing but despair. Every time you resorted to the thing that hurt her the most it felt like confirmation of her inability to be a mother. What kind of a mother must she be if her own child hated her enough to threaten to move away at eight years old? She felt like a failure, the intense feeling of insecurity prompting her to grab her phone from the coffee table. She opened her messages, finding Laura’s contact at the top, opening the chat. She contemplated her predicament for a moment, eventually deciding that she wanted to talk about it with someone who might be able to teach her a thing or two. Natasha typed up her message and sent it, surprised to see that Laura read it almost immediately. A few minutes later she received a long response, a small smile tugging at Natasha’s lips.

L: Oh I think every mother has heard that sentence before. Nate has told it to me the most, but he stopped once he finally grasped the true meaning behind it. They just don’t know how to express themselves. I promise you Natasha, you’re an excellent mother. She doesn’t hate you.
And what comes to moving away, Cooper loved to pull that move on me. Once he even made it to the shed where he claimed to be living, but he came running back when the temperatures dropped for the night.
Y/N is just trying to deal with her disappointment. The best you can do is talk to her later and try to help her express her feelings in another way. Try to make her understand the feelings she’s experiencing and hopefully it’ll help.

L: You got this!! Let me know how it goes <3

Laura wasn’t enough to completely throw aside all Natasha worries but she did bring her comfort, giving her just enough to keep her tears from spilling. You didn’t hate her. She wasn’t a bad mother. She should believe Laura. Laura was an excellent and experienced mother who knew what she was talking about. It would be alright, Natasha decided as she typed up a response, her attention shifting to the sniffles that grew louder, accompanied by the soft sound of your feet approaching her slowly. You appeared in front of her, your teary face pouting at her in a way that tugged at Natasha’s heartstrings.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, you wailed loudly, still unable to hold in your cries, feeling an overwhelming amount of remorse for your actions. “Mom-my, I’m sorry”, you lamented. “I didn’t- I don’t know”, you cried, sinking to the floor, unable to word your feelings. You were upset that you didn’t get to go visit Pepper who was giving birth at the hospital and when your mother had finally told you to clean your room you had simply lost it, feeling helpless in your frustration that you couldn’t handle. You were tired and sad, trying to navigate your way through the disappointment of not getting to meet the baby like you had been promised. It just didn’t feel fair. You had been waiting for months.

“It’s alright, kroshenka (little one), just let it out, okay?” Natasha whispered, crouching down to the floor beside you, grasping your hand to give you some comfort. Your temper tantrums were becoming increasingly more rare as you got older, but there were still times when you got so upset that you didn’t know how to address it. Natasha was good with you and she had learned to deal with both your emotions as well as her own over the years but on some days her patience wore thin and she was more than tempted to either put you in your place or ignore you completely, but she knew you weren’t doing it to annoy her or to be a brat. You were a child and it was completely normal for you to have outbursts when your feelings got too intense for you. It was Natasha’s job to guide you into the right direction and teach you how to deal with them in a healthy manner, something that she had had to learn later as an adult because she had been taught to shove every piece of human emotion so far down it never saw the light of day again.

“I’m sorry”, you cried, knowing you had been rude to her. “I’m sorry. I don’t hate you”, you hiccuped, wiping your tears into the sleeves of your shirt.

“I know. You’re forgiven, solnishka (sunshine)”, she assured you, brushing her hand down your arm in a soothing gesture. “You’re forgiven.” You looked up at her with your huge, sad eyes, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t hate you. I really don’t”, you whimpered. “I’m just sad”, you tried to explain, Natasha nodding her head, pulling you a bit closer to her.

“What’s got my baby so upset?” She asked, despite knowing exactly what was wrong. She just wanted you to word it out for her, prompting you to verbally express your emotions, encouraging you to communicate your issues with her.

“I wanted- I wanted to see the baby. I was so excited”, you whimpered, wiping your eyes again.

“I know, milaya (honey)”, she assured you, rubbing your back comfortingly. “But the baby needs a bit more time before she’s ready to enter the world. We can’t control when she comes out”, she explained again, despite you knowing the reason behind the postponement of the visit.

“It makes me angry”, you mumbled. “Cause I waited so long and now it’s not happening”, you explained, Natasha nodding her head in understanding.

“It’s perfectly reasonable to feel disappointed. I’m disappointed too”, she replied, offering you an encouraging smile when you looked up at her again. You averted your gaze from her, still feeling ashamed for your actions, suddenly reminded of the mess in your room that was ten times worse than it had been before. You frowned, fighting the sobs that squeezed your throat.

“And- and now”, you sobbed, kicking the couch weakly as you covered your face with your hands. “I- I have to clean”, you cried, bringing your knees to your chest to hide your face against them.

“Shh, come here”, Natasha hushed you gently, brushing her hand over your head. She pulled you up from the floor, helping you to the couch to get more comfortable, allowing you to cry out your frustration as she held your hands between her own, thumb stroking softly the side of your wrist. When you finally started to calm down, you scooched closer to her, pressing yourself against her chest in a silent plea for a hug. Natasha wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly, making sure you felt secure in her embrace. “Is there something we could do to make the cleaning easier?” She asked softly, brushing her fingers over your hair as she felt you snuggle closer to her.

“I don’t know where to start”, you admitted, overwhelmed by the mess you had made. There were toys and books everywhere, the floor completely covered by all the crap that you had thrown around, the entire insides of your closet littered all over the room because you thought that they would somehow take away your frustration if you gave them a good chuck across the room.

“What if we go take a look at it together?” She suggested, pulling back to see your teary face, bringing her hand up to caress your damp cheek. “Would that help?” You nodded your head immediately, getting up from the couch, leading Natasha back into your chaos of a bedroom. The mess was a lot, even to Natasha, and she was definitely not looking forward to cleaning up paper scraps and underwear from every crevice of your room, but she had no choice. Despite being exhausted out of her mind, she assessed the mess carefully, deciding that your best approach was to tackle all the clothes that needed to be folded back into the closet.

“What do you think there’s most of? Clothes or toys?” She asked you, waiting for you to work out the answer for yourself. You eyed all the toys on the floor, most of them covered by some kind of article of clothing, prompting you to choose the former option. “Why don’t you pick up all the clothes you can find and bring them to the closet and I’ll fold them up?” She suggested, earning a firm nod from you. To her absolute relief you went right to work, finding all the clothes you could while Natasha knelt in front of the closet, sighing heavily as she began to fold up the first pair of jeans that her hands found.

Organizing your room took a lot longer than she had initially thought, feeling like the pens and markers in your room would never end, always finding another toy or another sock from somewhere. On top of it all, you weren’t of much help anymore, spending all your time on sorting through your stuffed animals, carefully sitting them down on your bed so that they were all happy and together on your bed. She eyed you suspiciously, knowing you were trying to avoid cleaning by pretending to do something useful, she was the master of that trick especially when someone needed her attention when she wasn’t willing to give it to them. Filled to the brim with nick nacks and toys, she kicked the last pile under your bed, making sure your bedding covered the side to hide any evidence of her cheating. There really was no point anyway, your room would be messy again by the start of the week.

“How’s Tootsie doing after his tumble into the bookshelf?” She asked conversationally, sitting down on the bed where you adjusted the stuffies again.

“I apologized to him too. He knows I didn’t mean it”, you answered, petting his head between those fluffy ears. “I told him that I was just sad”, you explained, Natasha nodding her head as she eyed the row of toys before you. She recognized them all and even knew most of their names, but there were a couple of new ones that didn’t usually sit on your bed.

“Who are these lovely, little guys?” She asked curiously, touching the tail of a bright orange tiger. You seemed to visibly brighten up at Natasha showing interest in your collection of stuffed animals, eager to introduce them all to her.

“She’s Stinky because it’s a raccoon”, you started, pointing at the stuffie nearest to Natasha. “She hasn’t been on the bed in a long time. Then this one next to Creamy Cat is called Janice”, you continued, pointing at something that at least resembled a dragon or a dinosaur.

“Janice? Why Janice?” Natasha asked in surprise, finding the rather ordinary name to be a little out of place for such an adorable toy that could’ve easily prompted something much more creative from your imaginative brain.

“Just because… And then this one between Baffie and Parsley is Tina the tiger but she’s Tit for short”, you explained, Natasha arching her brow. You definitely should have gotten some sort of guidance from someone when it came to naming things. You had a tendency to choose rather odd names for your toys and Natasha couldn’t help but to wonder what prompted you to gravitate toward these eccentric names.

“And the last one here is Miss testicl*s”, You finished, pointing at the turquoise octopus, Natasha immediately bursting into laughter, your sentence catching her completely off guard. She received an offended look from you. “What?” You squeaked, grabbing the toy into your arms defensively, Natasha doing her very best to keep her laughter down. “See? She’s got eight testicl*s”, you argued, showing her the colorful and curly tentacles to justify your name of choice. Natasha bit her tongue harshly to avoid offending you any further, sucking in a quick breath to gather herself.

“I see”, she nodded, pinching her lips shut. You could sense that she was trying really hard not to laugh, a frown falling onto your features.

“You don’t like it?”

“Oh no, honey, I like it very much. It’s very progressive”, she assured you, sliding her hand down your back encouragingly. “But myshka (little mouse), I think you mean tentacles. testicl*s are what boys have”, she corrected you tentatively, watching you work out the difference in your head. You paused for a long moment, the pieces falling into place as a horrified look formed on your face.

“But she’s always been Miss testicl*s”, you whined in disappointment. “Can she still be Miss testicl*s?” You asked quietly, Natasha chuckling softly.

“Yeah, sure. She can be whatever she wants to be”, she promised, a small smile spreading on your lips.

Your meltdown had finally been tackled and you had learned that it hadn’t been the end of the world after all, getting an invite to the Stark residence a few days later to finally meet the baby who’s delayed arrival had offended you so gravely. Natasha couldn’t deny it, it was beyond exciting to have another child in the mix, even though Tony and Pepper had been talking about moving away with the baby to provide her a better environment to grow in. You were going to have another cousin and this time someone who was younger than you for change. It was all very exciting for you despite the big age difference.

You clutched Natasha’s hand tightly, vibrating from excitement as you waited for Tony to open the door for you, holding a box against your chest that contained the baby’s Welcome into the World -gift. You only had to wait a moment longer until the door was opened, Tony’s bright smile greeting you as he guided you into the living room where the rest of the team was gathered. You spotted Pepper in the corner of the room, a tired look on her face as she held the small bundle in her arms. You placed the gift in your arms onto the kitchen table where a pile of boxes sat, glancing at Natasha tentatively.

“Alright, sweetheart, remember what I told you? Be quiet and calm. Babies don’t like a lot of noise”, she revised, letting go of your hand. You nodded your head eagerly, glancing back at Pepper again. You were dying to know what the baby looked like, excited to see if she looked more like Tony or Pepper, or perhaps a combination of the two. You didn’t really look like Natasha for obvious reasons, which is why you found the looks department very fascinating. “Let’s go”, she hummed, walking into the living room with you, briefly greeting everyone there. You gave Clint a high five, Wanda receiving a quick kiss from you before you approached Pepper who gave you a soft smile before looking down at the baby again, her smile only widening. She adjusted the baby in her arms, aiming her toward you more so you could see better as you peered at her lap from afar, feeling a little nervous.

“Come closer”, Pepper hummed, gesturing with her head for you to move a bit. You did as told, reaching the armchair and settling to stand beside its armrest where you could see the baby perfectly. Your lips parted in a silent gasp when you saw her red, wrinkly face both amazed and disgusted by her looks. You hadn’t expected babies to look so shapeless, but to be fair you had never really seen a baby up-close like that, let alone a newborn. Her face was slightly swollen and she looked almost crusty, but she had a cute button nose and a head of black hair that made up for it. You glanced back at Natasha who had a tiny pout on her lips as she looked at the baby, her hand automatically squeezing your arm.

“She’s beautiful”, Natasha hummed, offering Pepper a bright smile “Congratulations.” So that was what a beautiful baby looked like. You could’ve disagreed, but you let it go, more amazed by the baby’s existence, already brewing up some questions you had been pondering ever since you had found out about the pregnancy.

“Thank you”, Pepper replied.

“Did you really push it out of your vagin*?” You asked in a quiet whisper, Pepper huffing out a little chuckle.

“Yes, I did”, she nodded, still barely able to believe it herself, but the constant pain and ache in her body wouldn’t let her forget about it.

“How?” You whined, unable to understand how such a thing was even possible. You knew for a certain that there was no hole big enough down there. You thought newborns were much, much smaller and it was a shock to you to find out that they were the same size as some of your dolls. There was just no way.

“Do you wanna try to explain? We can have this conversation with her later”, Natasha butted in, giving Pepper an apologetic frown for your invasive questions.

“Oh, I don’t mind”, Pepper assured in amusem*nt, turning to you as she thought of a way to make the process sound less horrifying than it actually was. “The baby used to be in my belly, in my uterus, where she was nice and cozy for nine months. But when it came time for her to get out, my body started to have contractions to get the baby moving. They’re these cramps that tense up your muscles”, she explained, watching a frown form on your face as you did your best to follow along. “Slowly the opening of the cervix started to stretch, creating a way out for the baby. Then I had to push really, really hard to squeeze the baby out”, she finished, your frown having turned into a grimace, your excitement dying down.

“Wow, that’s…” You really had no words for how disturbing it sounded, starting to wonder why it was so well-accepted. To you it only sounded painful. You turned to look at Natasha’s who was expectantly waiting for your reaction to the response you had gotten. “I’m really glad you didn’t have to do that with me”, you mumbled, your words cracking a smile on her face.

“I would’ve gladly done it”, she admitted, pulling you closer to press a kiss on the crown of your head.

“As scary as it was, it was so worth it”, Pepper mused, adjusting the blanket around the baby, caressing her soft cheek with the pad of her finger.

“Do you have a name yet?” You asked eagerly, hoping that you could maybe help her with some of your own suggestions.

“I have two options but we’re not sure yet which one suits her better. Tony doesn’t like the one that I like most so we might have to compromise somehow”, she explained, first looking at you and then up at Natasha.

“You could name her Hillary”, you suggested, Pepper seeming to genuinely appreciate your effort at helping. “Or Ben”, you continued. “I used to have a girl named Ben in my class”, you mused out loud.

“Thank you for the suggestions but I think we’re going with something else”, she replied politely, earning a small nod from you, turning to Natasha. “Would you want to hold her for a moment while I run to the bathroom? Or rather crawl”, she chuckled jokingly, Natasha nodding immediately.

“I’d love to. Will you be okay or should I ask Tony for help?”

“I’ll be okay, thank you, Nat”, Pepper assured, carefully placing the baby in Natasha’s waiting arms before starting to get up from the soft armchair. Natasha took her place, holding the baby to her chest, a small smile adorning her features as she marveled at how small the tiny human was. The baby yawned softly, unclenching her fists as she let out a quiet huff, Natasha’s features softening. Oh, how she missed having a baby. As difficult and crappy as it had been, she missed the mild baby scent, the tiny fingers and toes, and the little whines and cries. There was something very specific about babies that Natasha sometimes wished to experience again, but she knew it would never happen. It just didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel like she was meant to have more than one baby in her lifetime, and even you were an exception so great that she could barely believe it at times. But it was fun to imagine going through all of it again, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she reminisced the late nights she had spent with your vomit decorating her shoulder and hair as she bounced you in her arms, desperate to get you to sleep again.

“Can I hold her?” You asked hopefully, Natasha’s attention shifting to you. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“Maybe later, honey”, she replied, unsure if Pepper was willing to trust a child to hold her baby. You felt a bit bummed out by her response, noticing a twinge of something in the pit of your stomach as you watched Natasha hold the baby with a giant smile on her face, hearing her coo sweet nothings to the red lump. Deciding there was nothing more to see, you found Wanda from the couch, hoping to be included in their conversation, patiently waiting for Pepper to return so you could have your mother back. You climbed onto Wanda’s lap, seating yourself down on her thighs, her arms wrapping automatically around your waist to tug your back against her chest.

“Wan”, you mumbled, tilting your head onto her shoulder to see her face.

“What, princess?” She asked softly, rubbing circles into your belly.

“Can you read the baby’s mind?” You inquired, smiling when Wanda gave you a look. “I just wanna know what she’s thinking”, you said in your defense. “Does she like looking at mommy?”

“By the looks of it, she isn’t too bothered by her face”, she mused, but she would’ve been lying had she said that she wasn’t curious herself. The baby’s gentle energy in the corner of the living room had been pulling her in every other moment with its comforting buzz, the calm purity that she emanated was definitely something that Wanda hadn’t really felt before. There was an overwhelming sense of clarity whenever she leaned into that energy, finding nothing but serenity from a mind so young. Your mind hadn’t been much older but what you had experienced and learned in your six months of living had already tarnished enough of your mind to disturb its peace.

“Will you take a look?” You asked again, ready to put on your A-game to make her cave.

“I guess a little peek won’t hurt”, she hummed, her eyes starting to glow a faint red as she pushed the edges of her mind a bit farther, tentatively feeling around for that serenity. Wanda felt warm all around, the sensation only seeming to intensify when the sound of Pepper’s voice resonated in the room. It made Wanda smile. She found it very interesting to experience the simplicity of the baby’s brain activity, intrigued by how much was going on yet everything felt like it was in harmony. She pulled back, unwilling to disturb anything inside, recognizing just how vulnerable of a place the baby’s mind was.

“What did you see?” You questioned immediately when her gaze turned back to you and the red faded away from her eyes.

“Nothing”, she replied in all honesty. “But she feels good, she feels happy, especially now that her mother is back”, she explained, earning a disappointed huff from you. How boring. The baby could’ve at least thought about something cool.

“Y/N-honey, did you want to hold the baby?” Natasha asked from the armchair, still holding the newborn in her arms. Her question seemed to brighten you up a bit as you nodded, Natasha standing up, careful not to jostle the warm bundle as she moved. “Sit down beside Wanda. Mommy will bring her to you”, she instructed, rocking the baby very gently in her arms as she hushed her, a slight frown forming on the baby’s wrinkly face. “Remember to support the neck, okay?” Natasha lowered the baby down on your lap, making sure she kept her hand behind her neck to support it, just in case you failed to do it right. You were very tense, clearly nervous, not sure how you were supposed to act, looking around timidly only to realize that all eyes were on you.

“She’s really warm”, you mumbled, looking down at the baby who had stopped fussing and was laying still with her eyes closed. It was really exciting even though she was doing absolutely nothing. “Do you think she’ll like me? Maybe we could be like sisters?” You suggested quietly, Natasha brushing her hand down the side of your face.

“Who knows, maybe you could”, she hummed, a soft smile on her face.

“Do you wanna reveal the name?” You heard Pepper ask Tony who leaned his hands against the back of the couch.

“Sure, I don’t see why not”, he hummed, a wide grin spreading on his unshaven face. Parenting was already leaving its mark on the usually very well-groomed couple.

“Alright everyone, say hello to Morgan Harley Stark”, Pepper announced, your eyes focusing back down on the chubby baby as everyone welcomed the name, letting it sink in.

“Morgan. I love it”, you whispered, smiling a little. “We’re gonna be good friends, Morgan.”

Chapter 24: I miss my mommy

Chapter Text

“Why can’t I go with you?” You whined petulantly, tugging on Natasha’s arm again, letting out a long whine. She had already denied you more than a handful of times but you were still adamant to try.

“Because I said no”, she replied sternly.

“Why?” You wailed angrily.

“I’m not bringing you to a mission with me. It’s a safety hazard”, she countered definitively, not even bothering to glance your way as you gave her another tug.

“What’s a safety hazard?” You inquired, not fully understanding the term she had used.

“You on a mission”, she replied, knowing full well that was not what you had meant.

“Mommy!” You cried in frustration.

“I’m not taking you with me no matter how much you bitch and moan”, she said, ignoring how you were bouncing on the couch beside her as she skimmed through mission intel on a tablet. She was making a slowly progressing return to the field after nearly eight years of maternal leave with only a few occasional missions here and there. She missed her job. No matter how much she loved being with you, she missed action. She wanted to be something other than a mother so she had started to go on missions again which you weren’t happy about.

“That’s not fair!” You moaned, yanking on her arm to try to gain her attention again and again.

“Mommy told you no a thousand times. No means no”, she reminded you, feeling herself teeter on the verge of annoyance, considering snapping at you a bit more harshly to make you drop the subject.

“You’re stupid”, you mumbled bitterly, sinking into the couch as you crossed your arms over your chest, sulking in the most obvious way you knew.

“You’re staying home with Vision”, Natasha added, your jaw dropping in utter offense.

“Vis? No way!” You protested. “He’s the most boring toaster ever!”

“Mind your manners”, she said firmly, glancing your way pointedly, the ice in her gaze making you hesitate using the couple more insults you had coming his way. “Don’t call him names. He’s very nice and he’s going to look after you while we’re away”, she explained, going back to her device as you pursed your lips, not daring to talk back to her.

You didn’t have another choice. It was going to be you and Vision alone at the compound for a day or two. You were more than upset by that, showing Natasha just how angry it made you by giving her the silent treatment, throwing grumpy frowns and pouty lips her way whenever you got the chance. Natasha simply ignored your behavior, unaffected by your act of defiance. Her attention needed to be earned by good manners and you knew that. No amount of misbehaving was going to give you a response on her part and she was not someone who caved easily.

Natasha pulled on her combat suit, adjusting the seams around her calves to straighten them out as you snuck into her room, lingering at the door, watching her prepare herself for the mission. Your mother leaving made your stomach twist into knots. You were so used to always having her at home. It was scary to see her leave for a longer period of time. It wasn’t the first time she had been away by any means, but it still scared you because you knew that she wasn’t going out of town to attend a conference meeting or have brunch with the team. You knew she was going away to fight off bad guys and you knew it got ugly more often than not, even if no one ever really talked to you about it. Natasha’s gaze met yours, fingers tightening the lacing of her boots as she sat at the end of her bed, her eyes observing your quiet demeanor carefully. She offered you a soft smile which you tried to return but failed. You didn’t want her to go, your face forming into a small frown as she went back to tying her shoes, Natasha waiting for you to express your wishes, but you didn’t. You just watched her as she stood up, the upper half of the suit hanging around her hips. She pulled off the top she was wearing, revealing her bra and walking into her closet to go find appropriate underwear for the suit. You just waited, feeling helpless because there was nothing you could do to make her stay.

“Did you need something, malyshka (baby)?” She inquired from the closet, yanking on a sports bra and a different top before returning to you.

“I…” you started, unable to continue, your voice dying in your throat.

“What, honey?” She prompted gently, walking to where you stood by the door, crouching down before you.

“I- I don’t w-want you to go again”, you spluttered quietly, averting your gaze and nailing it to the floor to hide your tears.

“I know, solnishka (sunshine)”, she hummed, her fingers brushing over your baby hairs. “But I’ll be back before you know it. Just like always”, she assured you, tugging you a bit closer, eyes searching for yours.

“I don’t wanna be alone”, you whispered.

“You’re not alone. You have Vision”, she reasoned, but it only made you frown.

“Why can’t he go and you stay?”

“Because Vis can’t do what mommy can”, she explained, but you weren’t having it, tears forming in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks. “Sweetheart”, she whispered, cupping your cheek, her thumb wiping off your tears. You let out a soft whine, the inevitable sobs soon sounding in the bedroom. Natasha pulled you into her arms, hugging you tightly as she stood upright, your legs wrapping around her middle. You cried into her neck quietly as she walked around the room in an effort to calm you down, her hand rubbing big circles on your back, lips pressing down on your shoulder. “You’re a big girl. You’ll be alright, honey”, she mumbled in your ear, swaying you gently in her arms.

“But what if I won’t?” You asked earnestly, a crestfallen look in your eyes. “What if I miss you so much I die?”

“Baby girl… you’re not going to die. You won’t even notice how the time flies by”, she assured you, brushing her hand over the back of your head. “You got Bun-Bun and Tootsie with you. They’ll take care of you while I’m away”, Natasha reasoned, knowing your stuffed animals were a huge comfort to you whenever she wasn’t available. Bun-Bun –a white bunny you had gotten attached to in the very early stages of your life with Natasha– meant more than any of the other toys did because you associated it with your mother and had used it as comfort throughout your entire childhood, but you were sure not even Bun-Bun was enough to make you not miss your mommy.

“I wanna come with you”, you whimpered, dropping your chin back onto her shoulder, clinging to her desperately as Natasha walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

“Listen to me, sweetheart”, she said soothingly, pulling back enough to see your teary face, her hands cupping your cheeks. “Everything is going to be okay. I know you’ll miss me and I’ll miss you too, but guess what?”

“What?” You squeaked in confusion, clearly intrigued by where she was going with her words.

“It’ll feel so good when mommy finally comes back. Think about how happy you’ll be when I scoop you into my arms and kiss your silly, little face”, she hummed, tapping your nose gently before kissing your forehead. It made you smile, the thought easing your anxiety slightly. You would be beyond happy when she would finally return and you could already practically feel the excitement in your belly, eager to have everything go back to normal as soon as possible. You smiled a bit brighter when she kissed your cheek, your fingers fiddling with her silver necklace, the arrow-shaped pendant poking the soft pad of your finger. Natasha glanced down at her chest, her eyes moving back up to you before unclasping the piece of jewelry from her neck. You looked at her in puzzlement, waiting for her to explain herself.

“Why don’t you hold onto this while I’m away”, she suggested, bringing the necklace to your chest, her deft fingers working the clasp shut to secure the chain around your neck.

“Really?” You inquired in disbelief, pulling it off your shirt to see the pendant better. For as long as you could remember she had always worn the necklace no matter what the occasion. You could most likely count on your fingers how many times she had taken it off during your lifetime, more than accustomed to seeing the piece of jewelry that always rested above her collarbones. You knew she had gotten it from Clint years and years ago, before you had even been born, but you didn’t know why it meant so much to her.

“Yes, really, milaya (honey). It’s something that brings me comfort when I’m feeling sad”, she explained softly, empathizing with your intense feeling of longing. “It reminds me of Clint”, she hummed, a small smile appearing on her lips. “And the rest of our family. It reminds me of how lucky I am to be here, to have you. It reminds me that I’m good”, she continued, her voice low and soothing.

“Do you love Clint?” You asked bluntly, Natasha’s face breaking into a wide grin.

“Yes, I love Clint”, she chuckled, feeling like that wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

“Do you wanna kiss him?” You inquired, squinting your eyes at her, Natasha rolling her own in good nature.

“No, I don’t. He’s family”, she clarified, earning a firm nod from you. “Whenever you miss any of us, just hold onto the arrow. We’ll always come back to you, okay?” She whispered, caressing your hand that was wrapped around the pendant. You nodded again, leaning back into her embrace, searching for her warmth, a heavy sigh coming from you when her arms tightened around you, the palms of her hands rubbing your back.

You refused to let go of her until it was absolutely necessary, Natasha carrying you all the way to the landing zone where the team was already boarding the jet that was soon going to take off. She set you down, albeit a bit hesitantly, making sure everything was prepared for the mission as you bid goodbyes to everyone else.

“You’ll kick ass, right?” You asked Clint who was studying the tip of his arrows, making sure they were in perfect condition.

“Betcha, kid”, he chuckled, patting your arm. “We’ll kick all the ass we can”, he promised you, making you grin widely, Steve joining you as he walked inside the jet carrying his shield on his back.

“What is this ass kicking I’m hearing about?” He inquired, squinting your way as you giggled.

“You’re gonna take down the bad guys”, you stated confidently, Steve unable to suppress his smile.

“That’s the goal”, he nodded, crouching down to your level. You went in to hug him, Steve welcoming you into his arms. “Why don’t you show me how to do that kick again so I can use it to kick some butt?” He suggested as you pulled away, knowing that you loved to teach them the combat moves you knew, even if you were teaching them nothing new.

“You’re gonna need that one!” You noted, taking enough space for yourself to show the men how to kick correctly when fighting. “Make sure your standing leg is steady”, you instructed, leaning to the side and kicking your other leg in a controlled manner to really show them the correct form. Clint and Steve found it more than amusing but above that they found it incredibly endearing. “And then…” you let out all kinds of noises as you showed a couple of karate moves to them, pretending to fight. “Got it?”

“Absolutely”, Clint nodded, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Clear as day”, Steve assured, offering his hand in a high-five, watching you put your whole body weight into that slap.

“Why was I not invited to the last minute combat training?” Tony inquired, marching in as you turned around, having heard most of your conversation from outside.

“Oh, I’m just saying goodbyes”, you replied, growing a bit more glum at the reminder of what was to come.

“Show me some of those moves”, Tony prompted, coming closer to you with a soft smile on his face. They all knew how much you hated to stay behind and were trying their best to cheer you up before leaving. Eventually, Wanda joined you as well, all of them chatting with you, keeping you entertained until it was time for final goodbyes.

“I’ll miss you”, you whispered to Wanda, hugging her tightly, her hand petting your head that rested against her abdomen.

“And I you. I will bring you a souvenir”, she hummed, dropping a kiss into your hair. “Just like every time”, she promised, squeezing you once more before you moved on to do your handshake greeting with Tony.

“Come on, myshka (little mouse), you have to go with Vision now”, Natasha reminded you, her hand dropping onto your shoulder to gain your attention. The light left from your eyes in an instant.

“Not yet”, you pleaded, turning around to face her.

“I’m sorry, baby. We have to go”, she hummed, caressing your jaw gently, doing her best to memorize every little detail on your face so she could remember you exactly like you were whenever she missed you.

“Mommy”, you whined, burying your face into her chest as you hugged her.

“I know, angel”, she mumbled, holding you against her, praying that you were going to be okay at home. “Ya tebya ljublju (I love you)”, she added, crouching down just enough to see your face. “Ya tak tebya ljublju (I love you so much)”, she repeated, meeting your teary eyes.

“Tebya ljublju bolshe (I love you more)”, you hiccuped, going in for yet another hug. “I miss you already”, you admitted, a pout forming onto Natasha’s lips at your words. She was getting choked up and she really needed to get going so they wouldn’t fall behind on schedule and so that she wouldn’t end up staying home with you.

“I miss you too”, she mumbled, kissing your forehead, then your nose and finally pecking your lips. “Be nice to Vis, honey. I’ll be back soon”, she reminded you, guiding you to Vision who had just kissed Wanda goodbye. You grabbed his hand for emotional support before receiving one more kiss on the top of your head from Natasha and then they were gone.

Things didn’t go your way no matter how you tried. Natasha and the rest of the team left for their mission and you stayed home with Vision who dressed you up and cooked breakfast for you in the morning before taking you to school and to practice later in the afternoon. He always took good care of you and you had nothing against that, he just felt distant to you. You didn’t exactly know what to do with him. He was very technical and didn’t always see eye to eye with your imaginative mind. He wasn’t much fun when playing with toys because his idea of playing was based on a very general aspect of the concept. Thankfully, it was only going to be a few days.

You were getting ready for school on the third morning, already able to smell the breakfast Vision was making for you. He wasn’t much of a cook but Wanda had taught him a couple of things that came handy with your taste palate. His breakfasts were very simple, but you didn’t mind it, finding Vision’s toast, fruit and chocolate spread more than satisfactory, especially when mommy didn’t always let you have the yummy spread in the mornings. You were pretty excited about going to school because you and Makena were going to bring your sticker books with you so you could exchange some of the ones you didn’t like that much with the other. You scurried around your room, stuffing the notebook into your glitter backpack before zipping it up, moving on to finding clothes for yourself. Natasha had picked out a couple of outfit options for you but you decided to choose your own clothes, opting for a pair of light-wash jeans and a pink t-shirt. You were just about to get undressed when you heard the front door open and shut.

“Hey, where is she?” It was Wanda. You perked up immediately, leaving your backpack on the bed and rushing to your door.

“In her room”, you heard Vision reply, his voice very monotone, just like always. Wanda continued to talk, lowering her voice so low you couldn’t decipher a single word. You waited a while but when you still couldn’t hear enough you left your room, tiptoeing toward the front door in the hopes of being able to eavesdrop, and you could possibly try to scare Wanda after. You found the idea very amusing so you crept down the hall, but your cover was immediately blown when Wanda glanced at you. Her demeanor was grave, yet she tried to smile at you.

“Hi, honey”, she whispered, opening her arms for you as you ran into her embrace.

“You’re home!” You exclaimed, hugging her tightly, relieved that the wait was finally over. “Where’s mommy?” You asked, pulling back to look up at Wanda whose smile was too artificial, too wide.

“Uh”, she seemed like she couldn’t get any words out. She glanced at Vision, her hand rubbing your back. “Mommy… you’ll see mommy later”, she explained, your face falling at the information you received.

“Why?” You persisted, wanting to know the answer.

“Because there was a little… accident”, she revealed, trying to choose her words carefully, but that didn’t matter to you because your world was already falling apart, tears burning your eyes. “She’s okay, baby, she’s okay”, Wanda assured you immediately after realizing that she had been too vague. “Mommy’s gonna be okay”, she continued, hushing you gently, her hands cupping your cheeks.

“What- what happened?” You hiccuped, scared of the answer. You knew there were loads of things that could go wrong on missions. You knew sometimes people got cuts and bruises, and sometimes they died. The thought of anything bad happening to your mother was unbearable to you.

“Why don’t we go sit down and I’ll tell you”, she suggested as you stared at her with a pained grimace on your face, chest heaving with each breath you took.

“No”, you grumbled in protest, your hands shoving Wanda aside rather forcibly to get to the front door. You opened it, breaking into a run the second you were out of her reach, Wanda unable to do anything, shocked by your sudden reaction. You had never treated her that way.

Your lungs burned as you ran, tears cascading steadily down your cheeks as you tried to wipe them away to see better. You didn’t know where anyone was, unsure if they were still at the landing patch or if they had moved somewhere else. You navigated the compound, desperate to find anyone at all in the hopes of getting more information. You punched the buttons of the elevator, hearing Wanda finally come after you. There was no reason why you should have been mad at her but you were. You were so angry that she had delivered you such unimaginable news. It wasn’t fair, it really wasn’t.

“Y/N wait”, she tried, the elevator doors starting to close. She took a couple of running steps, her magic wedging between the doors to reopen them. She slipped inside the elevator, earning an angry glare from you, but you ultimately allowed her to ride with you. She crouched down before you, clasping your hands in her own. “I’ll take you to her”, she whispered, seeming truly sorry about the situation, her sad frown making your lower lip tremble. You were so scared. You were scared out of your mind, unable to figure out what the hell you were supposed to do.

“What if she’s not okay? What if she dies?” You asked quietly, hiccuping loudly as Wanda tugged you closer to be able to bring you into a hug.

“Shh, no. She’s not going to die”, she countered immediately. “She’s going to be okay”, she assured you again, hoping that she was telling the truth. She stood up, lifting you into her arms as she walked out of the elevator, heading for the medical wing where she knew Natasha had been taken to. You were impatient and clearly nervous, twisting your head left and right to try to see anything informative that could help you as your hands fiddled with the silver chain around your neck. Wanda brought you to the waiting room where half of the team was sitting, slouching in their chairs, quite obviously tired but still willing to be there to support Natasha. You wiggled out of Wanda’s arms, heading for Clint whose face was just a little too sad for you liking.

“Can she visit?” Wanda asked hopefully, all of the attention shifting to her. Steve shook his head discreetly, Tony giving her a look that clearly agreed with him. “Why not?”

“What, are you crazy? Absolutely not. You saw what she was like”, Tony argued, Wanda growing defensive.

“She deserves to see her”, she countered, raising her tone to match his.

“It’s not a good idea”, Steve said, chiming into the conversation to try to placate the budding conflict. Their voices only got louder as you stood there, feeling completely invisible as you tugged onto Clint’s hand to gain his attention.

“Are you hearing yourself?” Tony asked incredulously, Wanda scowling at him.

“All I’m saying is she deserves to know that her mother is okay!” She countered defensively.

“She’s not stable”, Clint reminded her, his hand brushing over your arm, yet he was still ignoring your quiet sobbing and tugging hand.

“We don’t know enough. It’s not safe. End of story”, Tony stated loudly, Wanda huffing quietly.

“Not even a small peek to see that she really is there and alive?” She asked softly, her desperate frown causing Tony’s features to soften. Wanda knew what you were feeling, she knew how scared you were. She had been in the same situation herself except she had known her mother had had no hope at all. She took it as her own responsibility to try her best to comfort you, to assure you that not all was lost.

“I really don’t think it’s smart”, he hummed, seeming apologetic as he squeezed her bicep. “It’s better to wait at least a little while”, he reasoned, Wanda nodding reluctantly, disappointed by the solution. She turned to you with the intention of explaining the situation to you, but you were nowhere to be found.

You tiptoed along the hall, reading each of the small plaques beside the doors to find Natasha’s patient room. You walked past a couple more doors before you found one that had your last name written on it. Hastily, you pushed the door open, nearly barging inside, causing the patient in the bed to flinch. Your watery eyes widened, a huge smile spreading onto your lips as you recognized her red hair that was admittedly duller than usual, but nonetheless distinct, hurrying closer to her in the hopes of greeting her. But you halted in your tracks when her eyes turned to you, a blank look on her face. She seemed disheveled, a couple of stains covering her abnormally pale skin, a thin laceration on her lip, her vigil eyes looking right at you. She looked scary, her brows drawing into a frown as she observed you carefully. You took a step forward despite the fear that you felt, inching closer to her. She dropped her gaze to your foot that took another step, her eyes too wide for your comfort.

“Get out”, she grumbled quietly, her hand tugging on the restraint that was cuffed around her wrist. She couldn’t move out of the bed, you realized, the quiet rustle of her cuffs seeming to echo in your head. You felt your heartbeat accelerate, your surroundings blurring, yet you took another step into the dim room toward Natasha’s threatening figure. “Get out”, she repeated slowly, her legs moving under the thin blanket she was under, the same telltale sound of restraints making themselves known. “I will kill you”, she said evenly as if trying to assure you that she was a woman of her word, her voice low and cold. “And I won’t hesitate for even a moment.” You stopped mid-step, staring at her. You couldn’t feel your tears or your sobs, standing still, trying to process what was going on. “Get out!” She screamed all of a sudden, your body flinching so hard you thudded to the floor, a sharp pain shooting up your tailbone. “Get the f*ck out! Now! Get out!” She continued, thrashing against the cuffs of her wrists as she tried to free herself from their tight and uncomfortable grip.

You crawled backward, your colorful sneakers pushing you toward the cracked door as you sobbed loudly, Natasha’s screams drowning out any sound you made. You felt your lower lip tremble when your head collided with the wall, heaving your lungs as full of air as possible, letting out a loud cry that was filled with terror. She wasn’t your mother, your mother would never behave that way. The door to your left slammed open, Steve first to enter, his head turning to you immediately, arms reaching down to pull you into his embrace. You cried even harder against his shoulder as he took you out of the patient room, Clint and Tony already hurrying to Natasha’s side, attempting to calm her down.

“Tash! Look at me, Nat!” Clint tried, his hands cupping her pale cheeks, forcing her to stop the aggressive shaking of her head. Her eyes looked empty, conveying just how tired she was, the color drained from her rosy lips and cheeks. Their gazes met, her features softening as if in recognition, a soft smile spreading onto his lips as his thumbs brushed over her cheeks. “That’s it”, he hummed, the grip of his hands loosening into a caress, the gentle look in her eyes disappearing, Clint too late to realize that he had fallen into a trap. He didn’t have the time to react to the movement of her head as she slammed it into his face, a grunt falling from his lips as he staggered back at the painful impact of her blow. His hand shot up to cover his bleeding nose as he backed away, Natasha offering him a rather unsettling smile as if begging him to try her again.

“Let her cool off”, Tony suggested, guiding Clint out of the room before grabbing a small package of gauze from one of the tables in the room. You watched them emerge from the hallway, Clint’s lower face painted red, your eyes widening in fear at the clear indication of him being hurt. You wailed loudly, a horrified, incoherent sound, Wanda noticing the men and your very justified reaction to the sight.

“Shh, no, mommy didn’t do that”, she assured you immediately, her hands caressing your body in an attempt to soothe you. “That wasn’t mommy”, she lied, praying that you would at least partly believe her, desperate to keep the positive, loving image of your mother intact. Tony noticed the frightened look on your face, offering you a smile.

“Clint’s a true clutz”, he chuckled, trying to cheer you up. “He ran into the door, and knocked his head right into the doorframe”, he explained animatedly, his hands imitating the supposed impact that Clint’s nose had suffered, bringing him closer so he too could assure that everything was okay.

“Look, it’s just a little blood. I’m okay”, Clint hummed through his pain, halfway convinced that his nose was actually broken. He lifted the stained gauze off his nose, showing you that there was nothing to be worried about. You weren’t sure whether to believe it or not because Clint wasn’t clumsy and had never been, but you chose to believe that your mother would never hurt him, creating a more pleasant image in your mind, one that didn’t involve your mother purposely harming your family. “It looks scary, huh?” He asked softly, earning a slow, hesitant nod from you. “I promise it doesn’t even hurt. It just looks scary”, he explained, smiling through the ache radiating through his face and head.

“Mommy would never”, Wanda whispered, brushing her fingers over your ear, something akin to a smile forming onto your lips. She held you a bit tighter, giving Tony a worried frown. “We’ll figure it out”, she hummed, standing up, your eyes widening in panic.

“Where are you going?” You asked in concern, sliding your legs off her waist, kicking until she let you down.

“Honey, we can’t stay here?” She reasoned, a stark frown overtaking your features.

“Why not?” You inquired angrily.

“We have to go get cleaned up”, she replied, gesturing toward the rest of the team. “I can’t leave you here”, she added apologetically, but you didn’t care for pleasantries, she might as well have punched you in the gut.

“I’m not leaving”, you huffed, tears glistening in your eyes as you fought to keep yourself from crying, trying to stay tough for your mother.

“Yes, you are. I can’t leave you alone”, she tried again but you yanked your hand out of her grasp, kicking her in the shin.

“No!” You cried loudly, your tears slipping down your cheeks as you tried to get away from her, writhing against her hands that grabbed you by your pajamas. “I’m not leaving her!” You wailed agonizingly, sobbing with your whole body, still fiercely trying to escape despite your very obvious disadvantage to an adult almost twice your size. “I’m not!” Your voice was filled with such anger Wanda couldn’t hold her own tears any longer, touched by your determination as her own trauma flooded her mind. She didn’t want to drag you away but there really was no one else who could take care of you. The entire team was exhausted and each one of them needed a good scrubbing in the shower. The only one left was Vision and she knew that now if ever you weren’t going to agree to hang out with him.

“Baby, baby, look at me, hey”, she whispered, crouching down to the floor, wincing slightly as your hand hit her in the face, a mild sting spreading down her temple, a shocked expression taking over her features. She grasped your forearms forcibly, holding them up to gain your attention, your crestfallen eyes finally turning to her. “I know you don’t want to go”, she said softly, her lips forming into a pout as you hiccuped roughly. “But mommy’s not going anywhere. She’ll be right here, getting some rest and waiting for you to come back”, she assured you, sniffling quietly, hoping her tears weren’t too alarming to you, although she wasn’t sure you could really process anything at all. “I’ll go clean up and we’ll get some food in that tummy of yours. You must be starving. Vis said you didn’t have any breakfast yet”, she said encouragingly, hoping she was as comforting as she was trying to be. “How does that sound? We’ll come right back after it”, she added once she noticed you hesitate.

You glanced toward the hall, the deafening silence of the ER making you feel uneasy. You didn’t want to stay there, but you didn’t want to leave your mother behind either, torn between two. You looked at Wanda’s reassuring eyes that shone with tears, her skin turning red where you had hit her. You bit down on your lower lip as you contemplated your options, your vision blurred by tears as you just stared ahead. You didn’t know what to do or who to believe. You didn’t know what to trust, a small sniffle escaping you as you grasped Wanda’s hand, allowing her to coerce you out of the hospital wing.

Chapter 25: Time won’t move fast enough

Chapter Text

You were really hungry, your stomach upset, but you weren’t sure if it was from hunger or from anxiety. However the feeling subsided the second Wanda set the bowl of cereal in front of you, your hunger evaporating to thin air, your gut churning unpleasantly. The nauseating scent of milk and overly sweet cereal making you shiver rather violently. You shoved the bowl away from you, feeling the need to gag as goosebumps erupted across your arms. You were so anxious, your body trembling lightly as you pulled your knees up to the edge of the seat, curling up into a ball. You felt your eyes burn again, your throat closing tightly as you hugged your knees. You wanted your mother. You missed her warm embrace and her never-ending kisses. You missed her scent and her voice, scared that you would lose her. What if you’d never see her again? Or worse, what if the next time you saw her she was dead? You didn’t really know what dead people looked like but you imagined it to be scary, maybe like in Hercules. You knew dead people didn’t move and they had their eyes closed, maybe some of them were pale like your mother had been in the hospital. You burst into sobs, hiding your face against your knees, crying into the flannel of your pajamas. What were you supposed to do now? You could hear the team talk in the living room behind you, but you couldn’t decipher any of the words they were saying.

“No, you don’t understand she is lethal”, Clint said quietly, purposely toning down his frustration and worry. “We don’t know what she’s seeing and feeling. We don’t know the world she’s living in currently. There’s no way anyone is freeing her”, he argued, Wanda looking ahead in thought.

“I might be able to help with that”, she hummed, Steve noting the quiet sobs coming from the kitchen. His face fell when he saw your small form, your shoulders jerking slightly as you cried. He glared at Tony’s loud protests, getting up from the couch and heading for the kitchen.

“Hey, doll”, he whispered, placing his hand gently over your back to avoid scaring you, crouching a bit closer. You lifted your head up, wiping your tears to see him better, hiccuping quietly. “What’s up, darling?” He asked quietly, his large hand cupping your cheek to wipe away the fresh tears. You took in a ragged breath, gathering the strength to produce words.

“I’m scared”, you whimpered, a pained grimace overtaking your features before you burst into another wave of sobs.

“That’s alright, honey”, he said comfortingly, stroking your arm with light pressure, his warm and steady hand contrasting nicely with your cold and shaky body. “Come here”, he hummed, sliding his hands under your arms to pick you up. You hugged his neck, his muscular arms encasing you against his abnormally warm body as you sobbed into the crook of his neck, surrounded by his sharp smelling aftershave. You recognized the scent, feeling the slightest bit of comfort at experiencing something that was familiar to you, tightening your hold on him as you sobbed louder, his hands rubbing your back.

“What if mommy dies?” You asked, hiccuping your way through the question, pulling back to see his deep blue eyes.

“Shh, she’s not going to die. We’ve got her right here at the compound and the doctors are gonna take real good care of her”, he assured you, bouncing you a bit in his arms, offering an encouraging smile. “You know how mommy is super strong?” He inquired, his voice much softer, a tone that was clearly directed at a child. You nodded your head, your hand coming up to your face to wipe your tears again. “She’s gonna make it. There’s no doubt about it”, he said confidently, knowing there was no acute threat to her life. For the moment she was mostly delirious and unpredictable, affected by the drugs that still coursed through her system. You remained quiet, trying to make sense of what was in your mind. You thought about your mother, reminded of how scary she had looked, huffing shakily as your lower lip started to tremble.

“She said- she- she was going to hurt me”, you muttered, looking away from him, trying to hold it together because you couldn’t even process how horrible the thought was. She was your mama. She loved you more than anything in the world and she had just told you that she would take your life. To Steve your words came out of nowhere, not possessing any prior knowledge of you even having spoken to her before her outburst.

“What?” He asked in shock, trying his best to control the look on his face as you sniffled again, wiping your nose into the sleeve of your shirt.

“She t-told me to get out or- or she’d kill me”, you sobbed, your ragged breathing making it hard for you to talk. Steve was appalled. He knew she would have never said such a thing if she had been aware of who she was talking to. He knew that there was nothing in the entire world that could’ve possibly made her think that, yet the thought of you hearing those words from her made him angry and frustrated. He was furious at Wanda for not looking after you better, he was furious at himself for not noticing you leave, he was furious at Natasha, at the mission, at their targets. You would probably never recover from something so traumatic and he already felt his heart break for Natasha who he knew was going to be devastated after finding out. Steve took a deep breath, forming an appropriate response for you in his mind before opening his mouth to speak.

“That wasn’t mommy”, he hummed, noticing your confused frown. You had seen her with your own eyes. You knew who it had been. “What I mean is that she wasn’t there mentally. She doesn’t know what is going on or who she’s talking to”, he explained, sitting down on the chair you had once occupied. “Do you know what drugs are?” He asked, receiving an unsure shake of your head. You might have heard of it but you definitely couldn’t define a thing about them. “Drugs are something that affects the way people’s minds work. Some are stronger than others. A small amount of a drug can make you dizzy or nauseous, but a large amount can make you see and hear things that aren’t there. It can give you delusions or paranoia”, he continued, keeping his tone low and soothing, your brows furrowing at the difficult words you couldn’t understand. “You don’t know what that means, do you?” He asked, earning a shy shake of your head.

“Delusions are false beliefs, something that go against facts. Like me saying the sun is green”, he mused, a smile cracking onto your lips at the thought of a green sun. “That is funny, isn’t it?” He chuckled, glad that there was something that could distract you from your sorrow. “Another delusion would be me thinking that you’re a dolphin”, he hummed, hearing a faint giggle from you, his own smile widening. He could see the slight relief on your face as your mind got occupied by other silly delusions you could come up with in your head. He wished he could have kept you there, distracted by silly little thoughts, but you needed to understand what was going on which is why he went on, his tone growing a bit graver. “Sometimes delusions can be scary. You might think that there are monsters or evil people after you that are out to get you.”

“Was mommy seeing delusions?” You asked quietly, looking up at him hopefully, eager to find an explanation for her behavior.

“Yes, I think mommy was having delusions. She was seeing someone else instead of you, someone that made her scared”, he hummed in thought, wondering what had happened between you before he had entered the room.

“Like who?” You asked curiously, unable to think of anything your mother would have ever been scared of.

“I don’t know, doll. Someone really scary”, he replied in a quiet murmur, his eyes moving to the cereal bowl that had been left untouched.

“Mommy wouldn’t hurt me, right?” You questioned for confirmation, still feeling a bit unsure because the drugs and delusions didn’t really make sense in your head.

“No, never. She would never hurt you”, he assured you immediately, his hands smoothing over your biceps. “She didn’t know what was going on and she probably won’t even remember what happened to her.” You nodded your head slowly at his words, seeming to accept the complicated explanation for what had happened, desperate to erase the devastating image from your mind. Steve’s gaze returned to the cereal bowl, his hand reaching for your breakfast to bring it closer to the edge of the table. You glanced back at it, your stomach rumbling loudly as if on cue.

“I tried to eat but my tummy felt all funny”, you offered as an explanation, Steve understanding completely why you would have trouble eating during such chaos.

“That’s okay. You had lots of other stuff on your mind”, he reasoned. “Wanna try again?” He asked, spooning the soggy cereal, the colorful loops having turned into wet lumps. Despite the uninviting look of the dish you agreed to try, turning around on his lap so you were sitting behind the table, your hand grasping the spoon he offered to you. His arm was wrapped loosely around your waist, occasionally rubbing small circles into your stomach with his thumb as you slid the spoon into your mouth, the sweetened wheat still just as good in your opinion. You felt much better now that you weren’t alone and knew at least a bit of what was going on with your mother. You felt hopeful, expecting to get a chance to visit her later in the day if her delusions were going away.

Regardless of your hunger you couldn’t finish the large bowl, the same flutter of anxiety returning in its place in the pit of your stomach. Your family had told you that they were considering visiting Natasha in the evening after giving her a good amount of time to rest which made you more than happy, only leaving you with the agonizing battle of killing time. There didn’t seem to be a single thing you had patience for. Everything was simply too boring or frustrating, your anxiety preventing you from starting any kind of task which only allowed you to sit on the couch and stare at the ceiling, angrily willing for time to move faster. You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t even think about playing or reading. You sighed heavily, lifting your hand up toward the ceiling for no particular reason, the bracelet you were wearing catching your eye, reminding you of a project that had yet to be finished.

You bounced up from the couch, Steve’s confused gaze following you out of the living room as you sprinted into your room to dig up the large box of assorted beads that you had gotten for Christmas almost two years ago. You had made many, many bracelets using fun, colorful beads of all shapes and sizes. You had made a few for your friends and a bunch for yourself, but you had never specifically made one for Natasha until she had left for the mission and the idea had struck you at school. You had given her a couple of your bracelets before but making one just for her felt much more special which is why you had chosen all your prettiest beads and lined them up, choosing colors that went well together, colors that you knew she liked. You picked up the unfinished bracelet, sliding the thread through a few more silver and dark green beads, alternating the colors. Once you were halfway through the length of the rubber band you slid a beautiful mint green heart on it, using one of your prized beads because she was special enough for it. After that you started picking out letters one by one, threading them through the holes to form the word “mama”, adding yet another mint heart after it. You really liked working on your jewelry and even pondered the idea of making a matching necklace for her as you continued adding the silver and emerald crystal beads, your mind fully focused on your work, allowing you a moment of freedom from all the fear and anxiety you were feeling.

By the time you finished up your task, sliding the bracelet on to see how it looked, your stomach was rumbling loudly again, a sharp twinge alerting you of the immediate need to pee. You needed to pee so bad that you almost peed your pants when you stood up, wobbling into the bathroom as fast as you could to avoid an accident. As you sat on the toilet, sighing from relief at your emptying bladder, you realized the apartment was rather quiet. No one had come in or gone out and as you thought about it even more, no one had spoken in hours. You wiped, flushed the toilet, and washed your hands before going into the conjoined kitchen and living room to see if Steve was still there or if you had been left alone completely. You couldn’t see anyone, a wave of sadness flushing over you. Had they forgotten you? You moved to the side, turning on the lights to see better in the dimming apartment, only a bit of red sky peeking from behind the trees outside. Still no one. You rounded the couch, unable to believe that Steve had left without saying anything, flinching wildly at the sight of him asleep on the couch, already having been fully convinced that you were alone. You observed him for a moment, studying his emotionless face that seemed sad somehow. He lacked the softness and warmth he always possessed, your hand coming up to his forearm that rested over his abdomen. You nudged him gently, hissing his name. When he didn’t move, you nudged again, his long lashes fluttering gently before his eyelids opened fully, taking in the bright living room and your concerned face.

“I’m really hungry”, you stated, tugging on his hand until he moved it to the side, leaving you enough space to cuddle next to him. You didn’t know why you wanted to be so close to him that day, but you couldn’t resist the urge to seek comfort no matter who you were with. You wanted hugs and kisses. You wanted human warmth.

“Hungry?” He mused groggily, his voice low and raspy, the sound of it resonating in his chest that your ear was pressed up against. “What time is it?” He asked in confusion, glancing outside at the setting sun.

“Like five”, you hummed, your hand fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt.

“Five? You must be starving”, he said playfully, tickling your side. “Hungry enough to eat a horse, huh?” You giggled at his silly words, writhing against him in an attempt to escape his tickling hand.

“Not a horse!” You laughed. “Maybe a burger”, you hummed, trying to figure out what you were in the mood for.

“A burger? How many burgers?” He inquired in a challenging tone, earning another giggle from you.

“Just one”, you replied, grinning widely.

“Just one? I bet you could fit another one in there”, he teased, tickling your belly to make you cackle out a laugh again.

“Well, how many are you having?” You asked, a pensive look on Steve’s face.

“Maybe six”, he hummed in thought, your eyes widening.

“Six?” You squeaked in disbelief, making him chuckle.

“I’ll have to see if the burgers got bacon or not”, he said playfully, sitting up to go find you both some food.

He didn’t end up eating more than two burgers, using the excuse that he wanted to leave some for the others as well. In your opinion he just couldn’t fit more in his tummy and had been bluffing earlier. Your burger was nothing special, a regular cheeseburger but it made you really sad regardless, your small fingers picking on the melted cheese that covered the patty. You had disassembled the burger, nibbling on small pieces but you found yourself struggling to eat it, thinking about how your mommy would make your burgers. She loved burgers, especially with bacon which was what Steve was having. He encouraged you to take another bite and you decided to try for him, bringing the lukewarm burger without the top bun to your lips, biting down. You didn’t like the scent of it at all, the cheese sticking to your palate, the bun too dry against your tongue. You chewed on the food, the flavor of meat hitting your tastebuds, a shiver running down your back. You couldn’t hold in the gag that you produced, followed by another violent churn of your stomach.

“Here, just spit it out”, Steve instructed, offering his paper towel -covered hand to you, watching you discard the food into the palm of his hand. “Take a bit of water, okay? You don’t have to eat if you don’t feel like it”, he assured you, rubbing your back as you guzzled down half of your cup of water. He noticed the moment you went quiet, your waterlines filling with tears again. You pinched your lips together, clearly trying to swallow down the sobs that were begging to be freed. “Let it out”, he whispered, rubbing your back steadily as you burst into tears, turning to his side where you could hide your face.

“Mommy likes burgers”, you cried, Steve’s face falling into a frown as he pulled you closer to him, sliding your body off the chair and onto his lap. He pressed his hand over your ear, encasing you against his chest, his mouth dropping to the crown of your head to kiss you, his eyes landing on Tony who appeared in the communal kitchen. He glanced down at your miserable form, his eyes conveying the sympathy he had for you, Steve giving him a questioning look.

“She’s awake and conscious”, he informed, your head jolting away from Steve’s chest as if burned by him, your round eyes looking at Tony with such hopefulness that his heart ached, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

“Can we- can we go see her?” You asked hastily, already sliding off Steve’s knee to head for the elevator, Steve and Tony sharing a look before agreeing to your request. You ran the whole way to the medical wing, frustrated by how slow the men were, sometimes returning back to them to tug on their hands or push them forward so they would go faster.

Once you arrived at the very same corridor you had been in that morning you felt a twist of anxiety in your stomach, reminded of what had happened the last time you tried to visit your mother. You slowed down noticeably the closer you got to her door, your hand sliding into Steve’s. The door was opened, but you were hesitant to go inside, peeking past the door frame to see if she really was inside. The lighting of the room was brighter than before but still dimmed down for Natasha’s comfort, the sound of Wanda and Clint’s voices catching your attention, encouraging you to take a better look at the room, Steve still holding onto your hand, patiently waiting for you to brace yourself. You glanced up at him warily, receiving a soft smile from him.

“It’s alright”, he hummed encouragingly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We’re all right here for you”, he reminded you, his hands sliding over your shoulders, his tall figure towering over you. He patted your head gently as you turned around again to take a quick peek into the room, eyes finally landing on Natasha who lay in bed just like before, propped up by two fluffy pillows, somewhat following what Wanda and Clint were saying. You sniffled quietly, everyone’s eyes turning to you, Natasha’s head popping up to see you better. She was still worryingly pale and you could see exactly how tired she was from her halfway closed eyelids that seemed a lot perkier all of a sudden, your gaze dropping to her abnormally colorless lips that were dry and cracked, the small sliver of red on her lip contrasting harshly with her fairness. You took a couple more steps forward, Steve lingering behind you because you refused to let go of his hand, the rest of the team filing out of the room to give you more privacy. Natasha’s brows furrowed at your timidness, her eyes glancing up at Steve questioningly as he tried to nudge you a bit closer by taking a small step forward.

“What is she doing here?” She asked in surprise, clearly having been unaware of your presence, having hoped that you were somewhere far away from the emergency room. She sat up, attempting to reach for you as a way to prompt you to come closer to her, a quiet rustle and a harsh tug at her wrists reminding her of the cuffs that bound her to the bed. She tugged at them as if in defiance, the corners of her mouth turning down as she frowned in misery, the sound causing you to flinch. When the cuffs didn’t yield Natasha’s attention turned back to you.

“Hi, baby”, she croaked quietly, offering you a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, a hint of panic behind them as she tugged on her cuffs again. She could sense something was wrong but she didn’t know what, feeling unreasonably emotional, anger and frustration flushing through her being as anxiety took over. Why were you scared?

“Hi”, you whispered, taking another step forward, trying to reason to yourself that everything was okay, but your tears had never quite seized and you could see them blur your vision again.

“I know mommy must look scary right now”, she tried softly, or as softly as her hoarse voice allowed, giving up on the restraints. You nodded your head slightly, sniffling loudly when you reached her bedside, placing your hands on the railing. You let out a long, quiet whine, unable to handle the stress any longer as you broke down, reaching for her out of habit.

“Mommy”, you cried desperately, Natasha seeming helpless, chancing a pleading look at Steve, silently asking him to release her from the restraints. Instead, he picked you up and sat you down on the bed, allowing you to sink into your mother’s embrace, loud wails coming from you as Natasha tried to hug you to the best of her abilities. You cried even louder when she pressed her head against yours, tears cascading down her cheeks as she imagined how scared you had been the whole day, how sad you had been, how much you had cried, all of it evident on your swollen eyelids and puffy face.

“I’m here, my love”, she whispered, Steve finally succeeding in undoing one of her cuffs, her left hand sliding up your back to pull you closer to her. She felt how fiercely you clung to her neck, your body trembling in her hold as you hiccuped through your sobs, nearly choking on your labored breath. “Shh, baby, I’m right here”, she continued soothingly, Steve freeing her other hand as well, Natasha letting out a muffled sob as she encased you against her body, physically relieved to know that you were there. He left the room shortly after, feeling like he was witnessing a moment that he wasn’t supposed to be a part of.

“Mama”, you whimpered, your ragged breath forcing you to cough so you wouldn’t block your airways, Natasha squeezing you tightly as she brought her nose to your hair, breathing in the delicate scent of your shampoo.

“Mommy’s right here. Mommy’s okay”, she tried to assure you, but her teary voice wasn’t very convincing to anyone. You took another ragged breath, pushing yourself away from her neck to see her face, a huge grimace on your features as you cupped her cheeks with your small hands. “I’m right here”, she whispered, tears streaming down her face in small rivers, her hands stroking over your body in an attempt to soothe you. The look in your eyes made her scared. She had never seen you so horrified and she knew instantly that she never wanted to see that look on your face ever again. “Myshka (little mouse)”, she hummed sadly when you hiccuped harshly, immediately welcoming you back into her embrace. Despite her arms feeling weak and stiff, she pulled you flush against her body, clutching you as tightly as she could, pained by the hot tears that wet her neck, your teeth pressing into the tender skin as you tried to keep yourself from sobbing.

“It’s okay, Y/N-baby”, she mumbled, rocking you in her arms as she cried silently, refusing to let out a single sob in order to calm you down. It seemed to work fairly well once you noticed that her shoulders no longer shook with cries and that you were receiving all the comfort you could have ever needed. You had her there with you and she was holding you in the most familiar way, waves of calm crashing over you as you slowly got through the initial outburst of emotions. She was okay, and you were okay. Everything was okay. You pulled back, attempting to wipe your tears into your forearms, beads scraping over your sensitive skin, shifting your attention to your wrist where the silver and green bracelet dangled loosely. You perked up a little, bringing your arm down between your bodies to take a better look at the bracelet you had made, your other hand pulling it off your wrist.

“What’s that?” She asked curiously, using the opportunity to wipe her tears to appear a little more put together for you.

“A bracelet”, you hummed, adjusting the beads enough to show her what it said. “I made it for you”, you added sheepishly, smiling softly as you looked up at her for her reaction, Natasha’s brows furrowing as she tried to make sense of everything that was going on as well as process your excruciatingly adorable gesture.

“For me?” She whimpered, looking down at the piece of jewelry, her fingertips tracing over the crystal beads.

“Yes, see? It says mama”, you pointed out. “That’s you”, you clarified brightly, Natasha unable to hold back her amused huff as she brushed her thumb over your cheek affectionately, inconspicuously trying to tug you closer to her with her left hand before offering it to you so you could slide the bracelet on her.

“Let’s see what it looks like on”, she hummed encouragingly, allowing you to stretch the rubber band enough to slide it over her hand, the jewelry hugging her wrist in a rather perfect fit.

“Wow, look at that”, she praised softly, bringing her hand out a bit so you could both take a better look at your work. “It’s beautiful”, she said, emphasizing her words, doing her best to convey just how touched she was by your infinite kindness and sweetness. “I love it. Almost as much as I love you”, she hummed as she brought her index finger to your nose, sliding the pad of it down the gentle slope. It made you grin widely, feeling more than pleased by her reaction, yet your smile faltered, the possibility of you losing her, not having her there, creeping to the back of your mind again. You couldn’t seem to shake the fear inside you no matter how much confirmation you received from your surroundings. You still felt like she was about to slip through your fingers and you would be all alone again in an infinite sea of sadness where you would float around mindlessly.

“Mommy”, you started quietly, glancing up at her, your brows knitting together once you registered the alarmingly sick look on her face. She looked awful, her eyes closing as she took in a shallow breath, pushing you away from her. You couldn’t understand why she would do that, fighting back to crawl onto her lap despite Natasha doing her best to reject you.

“Honey-“ She groaned, sounding rather unstable, nausea flashing across her face before she lurched to the side, gagging roughly as she threw up over the bed railing, vomit splattering onto the floor and the bed. This time you backed away voluntarily, kicking yourself to the end of the bed to get some distance between you, a concerned look on your face. You were frozen in place as she retched again, prompting you to leave by shooing you with her hand. “Baby, go in the waiting room”, she gasped, wincing as she felt a sharp sting in her head, triggered by the forceful hurl. She didn’t have to tell you twice, hearing you jump off the bed and head for the door, Natasha slumping down into the pillows, emitting a low whine from the back of her throat as she brought her forearm up to cover her eyes. Whatever drugs had been injected in her could kiss her ass.

Chapter 26: Aftermath

Chapter Text

“When will I get to go back?” You asked in a desperate whine, butting your head into Wanda as you wiggled against her, somehow trying to make her do something about the situation.

“Once the nurses have cleaned her up”, she replied patiently, grasping your arm to make you stand still beside her, instead of the odd back and forth between sitting beside her and standing in front of her. “Did you want to sit on my lap?” She inquired with a small squint, silently chastising you for your restlessness that you took out on Wanda in the most infuriating way possible, especially when she was already more than exhausted. You nodded your head, climbing onto her lap with a bit of assistance from her only for you to shift around constantly, your weight pressing harshly down on Wanda’s sore muscles, your hands and elbows abusing her abdomen and chest with small nudges and bumps as you tried to adjust yourself on her lap, but you were simply incapable of controlling your nerves.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you a souvenir”, Wanda said suddenly, hoping it was enough to gain your focus and slow down your jittery mind a bit.

“Really?” You asked in surprise, having completely forgotten about Wanda’s sweet habit of bringing you little trinkets from missions.

“Yeah, I got you this little guy”, she hummed, handing you a small conch seashell that was the size of your fist, the spiraling shell decorated by various shades of brown, the inside a pale pink. Your lips parted in awe as you held the shell in your hand, studying the sharp ridges on the outside.

“Is it real?” You inquired, glancing up at Wanda with your wide eyes. She nodded, her smile brightening at your genuine reaction. You really liked the souvenir, you always liked Wanda’s souvenirs, but it wasn’t enough to distract you from your feelings, your body growing restless once again, continuously nudging Wanda in the most infuriating ways possible.

“Alright, honey, why don’t we try to sit still for a moment?” She suggested, biting the inside of her cheek to reign in her anger and frustration. You didn’t need any more stress for the night and Wanda couldn’t think of anything worse than eliciting a breakdown from you again.

“But I want to go”, you groaned, swinging your legs that dangled off the chair, your sneakers kicking her shins.

“Go ask the nurses if they’re ready”, she suggested, already pushing you off her lap to get rid of your offending limbs. You hopped off, heading straight for Natasha’s room where a nurse was changing her IV bag, Natasha laying limply on the bed, very clearly exhausted out of her mind.

“Mommy”, you whispered, her eyes blinking open at the sound of your voice, the nurse ready to usher you out immediately. You didn’t like her attitude at all, frowning angrily, when she approached you with that apologetic look on her face.

“You shouldn’t be in here”, she reasoned, but you evaded her hands by ducking under them, hurrying to the bed.

“No!” You cried, clutching onto the sheets in case the woman wanted to get handsy.

“Shh, baby, whispers only”, Natasha mumbled, wincing at the loudness of your voice. “Let her stay. She’s been through enough”, she continued, talking to the nurse, her hand finding your own. “You can sleep the night with mommy”, she promised, her voice low and slurring, her eyes remaining closed as she spoke. It scared you to see her like that, her almost lifeless demeanor and the harshness of her tone making you feel a little uncomfortable. She wasn’t the same, but you accepted her invite more than gladly because you would rather lay beside her silently than sleep at home where you would toss and turn as you tried to force yourself to sleep, wondering if your mother was breathing or not.

“Can I cuddle you?” You asked hopefully, kicking your shoes off before you climbed onto the bed, Natasha lifting the covers up rather weakly, allowing you to crawl beside her on the mattress. The bed was comfortable enough for you since you had the most important thing beside you, snuggling into Natasha’s chest as she allowed her arm to drape over your body. Her movements were slow and lethargic, clearly demanding a lot of effort from her, but she still clutched you to her chest and pressed a kiss in your hair. The nurse continued her work, finishing up the IV bag change before taking care of a couple more things that Natasha’s condition required. She exited the room soon after.

You felt safe in your mother’s embrace but it didn’t take away the fear that had been brewing inside you the entire day, tears brimming in your eyes as you nuzzled your face against her hospital gown, somehow wishing to get closer to her. You wanted to talk to her, but the timing didn’t feel right when she was so exhausted that she could barely stay awake, her body shivering against yours every now and then as if she was cold. You wished you could have found more comfort from somewhere but eventually just gave in, allowing your tears to spill as you cried silently, waiting for sleep to take you so you could get a break from everything you were feeling.

The night was long, much, much longer than you realized. You never knew nights were so long and boring, or scary for that matter. Your vigil ears listened to Natasha’s ragged breathing that was accompanied by the steady beep of her heart monitor. You hated that sound, trying to bury yourself deeper into her embrace to drown out the intrusive beeping, but nothing helped. You couldn’t find a comfortable position on the bed, feeling claustrophobic and trapped under the thin blanket that did nothing to warm you up. You didn’t want to stay there, you couldn’t stay there for any longer or you would go insane, so you hopped out of bed, sneaking into the hallways to look for anything at all to ease the discomfort you felt. You found yourself at the vending machine, wishing for a dollar so you could have something to eat, your stomach rumbling loudly, twisting with anxiety that only made the pain worse. You looked around the waiting area, shivering from the cold as your eyes roamed over the dim and empty hallways, hoping that you hadn’t been alone in such a scary place. You glanced at the snacks that were lit up by the lights of the machine, sighing in defeat when you found no way to get yourself food. If you had had powers like Wanda you could have just grabbed something for yourself without anyone ever finding out. You didn’t think you had ever felt so hungry in your life. The last time you had gone a long time without food you had been sick with the stomach flu that didn’t allow you to keep anything down. You shivered at the memory, walking back toward the room, your feet dragging behind you as you trudged forward.

You were so tired and so hungry, tears burning in your eyes as you snuck back into the room, your stomach lurching at the sight of the huge bed in the darkness of the room, your mother lying limply in the ominous silence. You sucked your lungs full of air, clenching your fists as you sprinted to the bed, terrified of the monsters that you could feel lurking in the pitch black corners. You climbed up onto the bed, only barely evading the imaginary claws that almost snatched you by your feet, wiggling into Natasha’s chest, pressing your face against her so you wouldn’t see the ogre that was surely looking at you at that very moment. You did your best to keep your sobs inside but they pushed through forcibly, your tears wetting Natasha’s hospital gown as your wails sounded in the strange room that you hated with your whole heart. You felt movement against your body, hearing a soft groan from above you as Natasha adjusted herself on the bed, disturbed by the noise you were making. You hiccuped loudly, feeling a flush of guilt for waking her up, putting more effort into staying quiet and still beside her. It was a miracle that it took so much noise to fully wake her up. Usually she would have been up before you ever got the chance to leave the bed. She was so sensitive when it came to sleep, always alert and aware of her surroundings.

“Shh, baby”, she hushed you quietly, her voice groggy and harsh. “What’s… wrong, honey?” She asked slowly, her hand finding the back of your head as she struggled to find the strength to talk and move.

“Mommy”, you cried softly, clutching her gown tightly, sniffling loudly to prevent your snot from dripping down your face.

“Shh”, she continued, finding it much easier to hush than produce any words, bending her fingers in your hair to scratch gently over your scalp. She decided to wait for you to calm down enough to be able to express yourself so that she could save some energy, her hazy brain struggling to stay focused.

“I- I’m- There’s… I’m- scared”, you uttered hastily, struggling to explain your emotions to her when you felt so helpless and horrified.

“Of what”, she sighed, sounding almost indifferent from the lack of energy in her.

“Everything”, you bewailed, loud sobs bursting from you as you clutched her waist, needing something to hold. Natasha heard the pain in your voice, her mind reacting to the way you were crying, searching for every last bit of physical strength to force herself to open her eyes, feeling nausea tug at her stomach as she started to sit up in the hopes of being able to focus on you better, to comfort you better. You refused to let go of her even a little bit as she changed her position, clinging onto her body like your life depended on it.

“Shh… malyshka (baby), you’re… okay”, she huffed, her eyes searching for the bedside table, looking for the remote that could turn the lights on for you. She reached for the white device, her thumb fumbling for the desired button in the dark, eventually bringing some light into the room. She cringed at the brightness of the fluorescent lights, her gaze shying away from the obtrusive beam.

“Mommy”, you cried again, not sure what else to say. You didn’t know how to handle your emotions, squirming against her body, completely submerged in your sorrow. Natasha closed her eyes, taking an even breath to control the nausea that stirred inside her, her stomach upset by the new position she was sitting in. She couldn’t listen to your distress any longer, her heart aching at each little whimper that fell from your lips. She needed to console you, she needed to help you no matter what was going on with her body and mind. She needed to protect you.

“Look at the lights, Y/N. It’s not- not dark anymore”, she stuttered, tugging gently on your arm to make you look around, knowing that it was most likely the infinite darkness that frightened you and if it wasn’t that, it surely didn’t help your predicament. Natasha knew that for a fact. “Look at mommy”, she instructed, a shiver going down her spine as she fought the nausea that tried to take over. You pulled away from her, hiccuping loudly, bringing your hands to your face to wipe off your tears, barely able to see a thing through the blur. “That’s- it, kroshka (little one)… good job”, she praised, her thumb brushing gently over your bicep. “Remember to breathe”, she hummed, hoping that the smile she was giving you was as encouraging as she intended it to be. You took a deep breath, the kind that you had practiced with her every time you had woken up from a nightmare or had felt such intense emotions that you needed to find a way to relax your body. You filled every square inch of your lungs with air, holding it in for five seconds before slowly exhaling, Natasha’s hands finding your cheeks to cup.

“There you go, love. Take… another breath for me”, she urged you, looking into your huge, watery eyes that tugged at her heartstrings. You did as told, finding it much easier to sort out your feelings when you were properly getting oxygen into your brain. “Ready to talk?” She asked softly, earning a firm nod from you. “What’s got my baby girl so scared?”

“You… all of it”, you admittedly shyly, casting your eyes down to avoid her gaze. “I’m scared… that you’re hurt and- and that you’re going to die”, you elaborated, Natasha nodding in understanding, her lips pursing into a small pout.

“I’m okay, darling. I’m not going anywhere”, she assured you, taking a small pause to gather more strength to talk, finding it easier by the minute. “Remember how mommy told you that you would always have her? I wasn’t lying. I’m hard to get rid of”, she chuckled, caressing her thumbs over your cheeks to comfort you.

“But- but you almost died”, you persisted because that’s how it had felt to you despite Natasha only having suffered mild physical harm.

“I know this looks scary. You shouldn’t even be seeing this, but I promise you, milaya (honey), I never came close to death”, she told you, her eyes searching for your own to truly convey to you how serious she was being. “This is no place for a child. I don’t know who let you in here, but they should’ve waited longer”, Natasha said apologetically, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know you’re confused and you probably have many, many questions, but I need you to understand that I’m safe and I’m okay. Nothing is going to happen to me. I’m right here”, she assured you, knowing that she was going to give a piece of her mind to the rest of the team for ever informing you about her accident. They should have known better.

“Promise?” You asked with a voice so quiet and soft that Natasha felt her eyes start to sting.

“I promise”, she whispered, tugging you closer to her to bring you into her embrace, feeling the need to hold you, to comfort you in every way possible. She had never seen you so shaken up in her life, the brief idea of putting you into therapy for an indefinite amount of time entering her mind. You needed to overcome the events in a healthy, progressive way that would save you from at least some of the trauma that would ensue. Unfortunately Natasha didn’t know how to help you with it. Her coping skills were nothing short of chaotic. In fact, most of her ways to deal with scary or painful events in her life should not be recommended for anybody. She needed to find help for you and help for herself so that you could avoid the possible disaster that was ahead.

Once your initial fear started to subside, you remembered the rest of your concerns that were keeping you up for the night. You wanted to talk to her about what she had said to you earlier that day when she had been having those delusions that Steve had told you about, but you were scared to say it out loud to her. You were too nervous to talk to her about it, unwilling to bring it up when it seemed like she wasn’t aware of it in the slightest, so you chose something else instead. “I’m really hungry”, you stated quietly, looking down at your cramping stomach. “It hurts so bad”, you whined, Natasha co*cking her head at your pout.

“Who’s been looking after you today?” She asked in concern, feeling a twinge of betrayal somewhere deep inside her, fearing that her family had failed to take care of you.

“Steve and Wanda mostly”, you shrugged.

“Did you get dinner?”

“Yeah, it’s just that… My stomach hurts so bad I can’t eat. I tried. Me and Steve got burgers, but I almost threw up”, you explained, a small frown on your face as you toyed with your hands.

“Oh baby, were you feeling that nervous?” She hummed softly, empathetic of your struggles as well as relieved that you hadn’t been neglected all day.

“Uh-huh, and the same happened at breakfast and I didn’t have lunch, so now I’m starving. I wanted something to eat but I didn’t have a dollar for the vending machine”, you continued, Natasha’s heart squeezing roughly at the image of your small form by the vending machine, begging for just a bite of food. She reached for the nurse call button, pressing on it swiftly. “What’s that?” You asked in confusion, a playful smile on her lips.

“We’re getting you some food”, she said in a secretive tone, the look on your face brightening at her words.

“Really? How?” You inquired eagerly, beaming up at her for the familiarity that was slowly returning to her demeanor.

“I’ll show you how”, she mused, squeezing you tightly against her, rubbing your back as the door to the patient room slid open, a nurse entering to see how Natasha was doing.

“Hi”, she greeted the on-call nurse, offering her an apologetic smile. “Everything is okay here. I’m sorry to bother you, but would you happen to have anything to eat in the cafeteria? My daughter is hungry”, she explained, her eyes following the woman who walked to the monitors that beeped steadily, checking her vitals despite Natasha’s words.

“Yes, of course”, she replied, turning to look at your teary face. “If you want to, we can go together. You could choose whatever you feel like eating”, she suggested, a grateful smile spreading on Natasha’s lips, but you felt a bit unsure, glancing up at your mother warily.

“I’ll be right here, baby”, she said encouragingly, brushing your hair behind your ear, her gaze turning to the nurse again. “I could actually use a bite as well, something very light. I can’t remember the last time I ate”, she admitted, her words causing you to perk up a bit. You wanted to help her get better, suddenly a bit more eager to go get food for the both of you.

“We have jello cups. The raspberry flavor has been a hit among the patients”, the woman explained politely, earning a pleased smile from Natasha.

“Those sound wonderful”, she hummed, still trying to see if you would be willing to go with the lovely nurse. “Would you go get jello cups for mommy?”

“Uh-huh. Can I have some too?” You asked hopefully, clearly leaning toward going.

“You can have anything you want from the cafeteria”, she promised you. “If you go with…” she glanced at the nurse, not familiar with her, waiting for her to fill in the sentence.

“Elaine”, she chimed in, offering you a soft smile that finally did it for you. Elaine was around Natasha’s age and she had thick brown hair that was tied into a tight bun at the back of her head, her narrow eyes bringing her face an almost feline quality, but the rest of her round features balanced it out, giving her a much softer look. You slid off the bed, receiving a final squeeze of Natasha’s hand as she let you go, Elaine offering her hand for you to hold.

“I’ll be right back”, you said to Natasha from the door, allowing Elaine to lead you to the cafeteria.

“I know, sweetie”, Natasha hummed, giving you one last look before you were out the door.

“You’re really pretty”, she heard you say to Elaine, your voice echoing in the hallway, an amused smirk spreading on Natasha’s lips as she closed her eyes and sank back into the pillows, relieved to have a moment of pure silence to herself.

The moment you were gone Natasha felt her condition worsen, no longer fighting to remain put together. The nausea came in waves, her eyelids rolling shut as the muscles of her abdomen constricted, tensing up to make her gag. She hadn’t felt shudders so violent in a long time, the feeling of disgust so dreadful that she could barely control the look on her face when her body tried to make her vomit again. She took deep, controlled breaths, keeping her eyes closed as she lay on her back, doing her very best to focus on anything other than her discomfort, but it seemed to be the last thing she was capable of doing, her mind analyzing everything that was wrong with her physically. She could feel the headache that throbbed in the base of her skull, the sensation not strong enough yet to spread to the front of her head, but she knew it wouldn’t take long. Her muscles ached, a constant buzz in her joints despite the position her limbs were in. On top of it all, the emotional exhaustion she felt weighed her down like a ton of bricks, her mind fighting to stay conscious until your return. Time passed by rather fast while Natasha was stuck in the depths of her mind, trying to piece together everything she could remember from the day before. She knew something had gone horribly wrong on the mission but she wasn’t sure what had led to it, or who had gotten to her. It made her uneasy to not remember large pieces of valuable information, bringing a couple of very uncomfortable memories to the forefront of her mind from similar occasions.

“We’re back!” You exclaimed from the door, the sound of your voice causing a sharp jab of pain to pierce through Natasha’s head, her face morphing into a slight wince as she gathered herself up into a sitting position again. “Elaine has a dog”, you stated in excitement as you rushed to her bedside, carrying your food on a tray.

“Wow, she does?” Natasha asked in surprise, not giving a damn about Elaine’s dog, but you seemed to be in a much better mood so she decided to engage in your conversation.

“Yeah, a wiener dog”, you chuckled, amused by such a name. “He’s three years old and his name is Peanut”, you explained, handing the tray to Natasha who received it a little poorly, but with Elaine’s help she managed to place it on the side table that was stretched over the bed to give Natasha better access to it.

“Sounds adorable”, she hummed, Elaine giving her a sympathetic look, clearly aware of Natasha’s condition.

“Do you need anything?” She asked Natasha, who shook her head immediately.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll call for you if anything comes up”, she assured her, offering the most polite smile she could muster, Elaine saying her goodbyes to you before exiting the room.

“I think we should get a dog”, you carried on, unwrapping the toastie from its paper, the scent of warm cheese hitting Natasha’s nose. She could’ve definitely gone without the stuffy smell, but she pushed through, focusing on one of the jello cups on the tray. “Do you think we should get a dog?”

“I think we should think about that tomorrow. Eat your food before it gets cold”, she countered rather obviously, shutting you up, hoping that all the adrenaline in your body would soon start to go down, eager to get you back to sleep so she could catch a break from the constant nausea.

Natasha only had a bite of the raspberry jello cup, finding that the taste of anything was enough to make her stomach churn. She grabbed the juice box on the tray, opening it for you, her hand guiding you to lean into her side as you ate your ham and cheese toastie, simply happy to have your hunger sated. She offered the juice to you, petting the top of your head gently, grateful for the food that kept you quiet. It didn’t take long for her to start zoning out, her head resting against your own as her eyes slid shut. Just a few more minutes and she could put you to bed, she reminded herself, listening to you slurp on the remains of your juice box, the bread already finished. Once you were done with your meal she pushed the table to the side, making a bit more room for you on the bed before settling down on the mattress, pulling the thin blanket up to her shoulders. You adjusted to her position, rolling closer to her to tuck your face into her neck where you felt safe and warm, Natasha wrapping her arm around your small frame.

“Try to get some sleep, sweetheart”, she whispered, pressing her lips in your hair, the kiss tickling your ear slightly.

“I’ll do my best”, you mumbled quietly, sounding tired to Natasha’s utter relief.

“Good night, myshka (little mouse). I love you”, she hummed, brushing her nose against you gently. “My sweet angel.”

“Good night. I love you”, you replied, smiling into her skin, feeling a thousand times better than in the beginning of the night.

Chapter 27: Just like you

Chapter Text

You dragged yourself to the living room couch, exhausted out of your mind from practice, sinking into the cushions that seemed to welcome you with open arms. You had recently switched from karate to kickboxing and your new coach had no mercy for anyone. He wasn’t going to let you quit until you got it right. He was stricter than your mother, although you had a feeling Natasha was never quite as strict as she would have been with anyone else. She always carried an air of loving care whenever you trained with her. She was rough, yet gentle, possessing a tendency to push you just enough to find the most effective method of development. Your new coach was rough around the edges and lacked the maternal care that you so loved. You couldn’t give him those huge puppy eyes and a tired, little whine to get out of conditioning circles or punch drills, although it only worked on Natasha maybe 40% of the time. It didn’t bother you though. You had a lot of respect for your coach. He was very skilled and maybe even good enough to not go down in the first two minutes if he had been set up against your mother. That was already wildly impressive.

The air around you felt warm, your eyes sliding shut as you listened to the quiet Russian music that came from the kitchen, the sizzling of a frying pan carrying through only faintly. You could smell the dinner that Natasha was cooking, her voice resonating softly in the room, but you forgot to answer as your mind slowed down and you started to drift, your surroundings morphing into one big blur, the world going dark. You found yourself in a gloomy corridor, a steady beeping sound echoing down the eerie halls. You felt scared. It was too dark around you for you to really see ahead, cold creeping up your legs as your hands grew clammy. You tried to take a deep breath to calm yourself down but there was no air. You tried again but you couldn’t seem to fill up your lungs, gasping for air that had no oxygen to give. It felt too real, too vivid, too familiar. You knew where you were and would’ve given anything in the world to get out.

“Y/N.” You flinched away rather violently, your eyes flashing open as your body jolted at the hand that touched your arm. Your eyes turning to Natasha who was crouched down beside you on the floor, her brows drawing into a mild frown. “Hey, you okay?” She asked after seeing your startled face, stroking her hand down your bicep to offer comfort. You looked at her for a moment, relief flooding you as you realized that it had only been a dream. You nodded your head slowly, clambering to sit up on the couch.

“I’m okay”, you mused, Natasha’s frown replaced by a soft smile.

“Dinner’s ready”, she told you, pinching your chin gently, standing upright to head into the kitchen with you in her footsteps. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow”, she hummed, pulling up a seat for you at the end of the table. You sat down, eyeing the plateful of your favorite food, excitement pushing aside the anxiety you had felt.

You were about to attend your very first charity event at the Avengers tower, finally old enough to accompany Natasha without possible meltdowns that could disturb the night. You were finally, finally old enough to dress up with mommy to go to high-end gala events, nine years old to be exact and you were beyond excited for the night that was ahead of you. You felt so grown up, so special, barely able to keep it together for long enough to get ready the next day. Natasha shook her head in amusem*nt as you held the dress you had picked out together against your chest, twirling around in her bedroom, too impatient to even start getting ready.

“Come here, princess”, Natasha hummed from her vanity, setting down her lipstick, her eyes turning to you. “Your turn”, she stated, pulling you down to sit sideways on her lap. You beamed up at her brightly, Natasha placing a wet smooch on your forehead, her thumb wiping away the smudge of pink she left behind on your skin. “What kind of makeup did you want?” She asked in curiosity, brushing back some of your hair that had already been done ahead of time to save the both of you from the additional pressure of getting ready on time.

“I want what you have!” You exclaimed, Natasha’s smile only widening.

“You wanna look like mommy?”

“Uh-huh. I wanna be just like you”, you nodded in determination. Well, you did have a matching dress so it was only fitting to match your makeup as well.

“Let’s see what I can do about that”, she mused, reaching behind you to grab her eyeshadow palette. Your eyes followed her movements curiously, observing carefully the way she opened up the palette filled with muted colors of multiple tones and values. You glanced up at her face, Natasha flashing you a small smile as she pressed the tip of her middle finger into the pan to pick up some pigment. She wasn’t going to do an elaborate look on you anyway, deeming you a bit too young for excessive makeup. Natasha herself was wearing a soft smokey eye that made her jade irises pop, her long lashes curled and coated with mascara, the look built on her flawless looking skin that made her glow softly. She looked beautiful, like an angel, you thought. A real life princess, or rather a queen.

“Close your eyes for me, dear”, she whispered, waiting for you to obey, but you kept squinting to see what she was doing every other second, not allowing Natasha proper access to the delicate skin of your eyelids. “Keep them closed”, she huffed in amusem*nt, earning a small look from you.

“But then I won’t see what you’re doing”, you protested, Natasha cracking a smile.

“You’re not meant to see what I’m doing. You’ll see the result in the end”, she explained, your eyes remaining closed at her words, although you did try to take a peek every time she wasn’t touching your eyes. Natasha tapped some shimmering eyeshadow on the middle of your eyelid, just like she had done on herself, adding some darker brown into the outer corners to add a bit of depth to mimic her own makeup.

“Can I wear that black stuff on my lashes?” You asked hopefully as her fingers blended the makeup into your skin, creating a smooth layer of shadow that was subtle enough for a child.

“We can put a little bit”, she agreed, her tone slightly secretive as her finger tickled the underside of your chin, a grin spreading on your lips. She hadn’t let you try on mascara before because of the difficult application process, but nine years was surely enough of life experience to manage to get some mascara on, at least with Natasha’s assistance. She placed the palette down, satisfied with your eyelids, her hand going blindly for the tube of mascara. “Look at mommy”, she instructed, tilting your head back a bit.

“Will the boys put on suits?” You asked nonchalantly, making casual conversation about whatever you had on your mind.

“That’s the plan, honey”, she replied, unscrewing the wand. “Open your eyes as wide as they’ll go”, she continued, earning a little giggle from you as you spread your eyes wide open.

“Do I look like an owl?” You inquired in amusem*nt, clearly holding back your laughter.

“You look crazy”, she quipped, a wide smile on her lips, cupping your jaw again to keep you still.

“Do I look scary? Are you scared?” You chuckled out, leaning closer to her, your nose and forehead pressing against her own, your eyes crossing as she held eye contact with you.

“Oh, I’m terrified”, she hummed, nuzzling her nose against yours before pushing you back enough to give her room to continue doing your makeup. “Look down but keep your eyes like that”, she told you, bringing the wand to you eye, brushing the bristles carefully against your lashes to coat the very tips with the product, mindful not to go too close to your lash line to avoid poking you in the eye. “You’re doing so well”, she praised in mild surprise, moving onto the other eye.

“Do I get blush too?”

“Of course, if you want.” She looked at your evenly black lashes, the corner of her mouth quirking up at her work as you nodded your confirmation, her hands starting to search for another eyeshadow palette to find an appropriate shade of blush for your skin tone. She then grabbed a fluffy brush from one of the brush holders –a part you had been waiting for very patiently. You found the silky smooth brush fun because it tickled your cheeks, another reason for your strong liking of it was the very direct symbol of doing makeup that you had seen all over fiction. Finally Natasha gave you a sheer layer of her lipstick, blending it to look more natural than her own dark-lined lips. You smacked your lips in excitement, rubbing them together to copy Natasha, whose fingers came up to your mouth to wipe the edges clean.

“There you go. We’re done”, Natasha stated animatedly, admiring the end result, her hand nudging your chin to the side to see you better. You turned to face the mirror, your leg sliding over her thighs to sit properly on her lap, gasping quietly at your own image, noting the changes that had quite a big of an impact on your appearance, shocked by the altered features on your face.

“I look beautiful now”, you mused in astonishment, Natasha shaking her head in disagreement.

“You looked beautiful even before”, she reminded you, her arms sliding around you to hold you by your waist, her lips pressing down on your cheek in a chaste kiss. You smiled at the image in the mirror, leaning further into her embrace. “You always look beautiful”, she added softly.

“Hey! You left a stain!” You exclaimed, very clearly overjoyed by such a phenomenon, turning your head to see her, giggling happily. You planted your lips on her cheek as well, rubbing your mouth on her to make sure you were leaving a lipstick stain behind. “Now you have one too”, you explained, Natasha glancing at the smudge of pink on her skin, biting the inside of her cheek to reign in the overwhelming sense of adoration. You were painfully cute, so cute that Natasha had a hard time handling it.

“Look at that, we’re practically twins”, she chuckled despite your obviously deviating appearances, but you seemed to agree regardless. “Do you want to wear any jewelry?”

“What are you wearing?” You asked immediately, Natasha giving you a sly smirk and lifting up her left wrist to show you a certain emerald and silver bracelet. She wore it most days, unless she did something that could potentially damage the piece. Your smile only seemed to brighten at what you saw.

“Do I have to take this off?” You questioned, noticing that Natasha didn’t have a necklace on but you still had the arrow pendant around your neck. You hadn’t taken it off since the unfortunate mission and your mother had never asked for it back, pleased to know that you found comfort in wearing it.

“No, darling. I will put on something similar”, she reasoned, nudging you to get off her lap. “Go get yourself a bracelet while mommy gets dressed”, she suggested, unable to help the smile that spread on her lips when you scurried out of the bedroom.

“Okay!” You yelped, heading into the hallway, going to look for something that would go well together with Natasha’s bracelet. She moved to her closet, pulling off her loose sweater and unbuttoning her jeans to change into her evening gown that she pulled off the hanger. The dress was simple, yet elegant, the skirt reaching all the way to the floor, plaiting beautifully around her torso to accentuate her waist and hips, your version of the dress lacking the skin tight fit. Your dress had a bit more flare to the skirt to give you that princess look you were after as well as bring a more child-like quality to the dress.

Natasha stepped through the dress, hiking it up her hips before discarding her bra somewhere on the bed, bringing the straps of the dress up her arms. She pulled shut the zipper on the side, making sure the dress fit right around her chest and hips. She looked at herself through the full-length mirror of her closet, running her hands down her abdomen as if smoothing out the dress. She really liked the gown, her fingertips gliding over the silky material, a small smile creeping onto her lips. She felt good, happy even, but it had nothing to do with her appearance, and everything to do with your loud, approaching footsteps that were followed by yet another exclaim.

“Mommy! Do you think this will look good?” You asked hastily, handing her one of your bead bracelets. It had the same green color as hers did, but instead of the silver that she had yours had baby pink.

“It’s perfect”, she assured you, guiding you out of the closet to get your dress from the bed as you put the bracelet on.

“You look so pretty”, you noted, reaching to brush your hand down her thigh to feel the fabric.

“Thank you, baby”, she whispered, stroking her hand over your hair affectionately.

“How long until we leave?” You asked impatiently, completely unphased as Natasha pulled your shirt off, careful not to smudge your makeup.

“Once you’re dressed we’re ready to go”, she said, offering a small smile when you beamed up at her. You stepped into the dress when she motioned for you to do so, helping your hands through the straps to get the dress on, finally zipping it up from the back. “Does it feel comfortable?” She asked, smoothing out the skirt a bit as you nodded. “Alright, mommy’s gonna take a picture of you and then we can go.” You grinned brightly at the phone she pointed at you, posing for the pictures she took of you, Natasha’s heart melting at how beautiful and confident you were.

You arrived at the Avengers gala early, Natasha having an inkling that you would also be leaving early because your inevitable bedtime usually came after ten whether you wanted it or not, your body growing tired even if your mind would have wanted to keep going. Since no one else was around yet, Natasha headed for the nearly empty bar, ordering herself a co*cktail.

“Do you want anything?” She asked, glancing down at you, a smile crossing her features when she saw the thinking face you put on.

“Can I have that co*cktail thing too?” You inquired hopefully, peering over the countertop to see the bartender make Natasha’s dark red drink. It looked so pretty.

“You can have a mocktail. Those don’t have alcohol”, she explained, grabbing a menu from the side. “What flavor would you like?” She showed you the menu so you could see the options for yourself, one of the names catching your eye.

“Cinderella!” You gasped in excitement, glancing up at Natasha before your eyes moved back down to the menu to see the ingredients listed below the name. “I want this!” You turned to the bartender, Natasha chastising you for lacking manners.

“What do you say, honey?”

“Oh, sorry. Can I have the Cinderella one, please?” You corrected yourself swiftly, the bartender offering you a gentle smile as he handed Natasha her co*cktail and grabbed another glass for your drink. You sipped causally on your drinks, the situation and surroundings promoting all kinds of questions from you that Natasha was glad to answer, your easy-going chatter interrupted by a few of the team members who had finally arrived at the scene.

“Clint!” You exclaimed, setting down your glass and hopping off your stool to go greet him, a wide smile spreading on Natasha’s lips at the sight of her best friend. She raised her glass toward him as a greeting, Clint nodding in acknowledgment.

“Hey, you! Don’t you look beautiful”, he chuckled when you ran into his arms, bringing you into a brief hug. “Wow, what a pretty necklace you got”, he said with a small, soft frown on his face, his gaze turning to Natasha who was wearing a small pout on her lips. He could see nothing but adoration on her face, his own features softening in understanding.

“Yeah, mommy gave it to me to make me feel safe”, you explained immediately, but you didn’t have much more patience to elaborate on it. “I’m having a Cinderella drink”, you announced to him in excitement, getting the most important piece of information out.

“Oh, wow! What’s it taste like?”

“Orange and stuff.” He walked toward the bar with you or rather dragged by you, standing beside Natasha. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, someone else’s voice alerting you all of their arrival.

“You found the Romanoffs”, Sam mused animatedly, offering his hand to you in a high five. You slapped his hand as hard as you could before sitting back onto the bar stool where you could continue sipping your overly sweetened drink that was surely going to give you a sugar rush at some point during the night. “Look at you, little princess. Got the dress and everything.” His compliment made you smile, reminding you of something that you had nearly forgotten.

“You guys have to check this out!” You announced, once again hopping off the stool. You seemed to have more than enough energy for the night. You started to pull up your fluffy dress, Clint frowning at the odd move, but realization soon crossed his features when he saw the water gun strapped to your thigh. Sam gave an amused look to Natasha who shrugged indifferently.

“Might as well let her have some fun”, she mused quietly, watching you grab the gun from the makeshift thigh holster, your dress flopping back down. You aimed the toy gun at Clint, flashing him a playful smirk that immediately reminded him of your mother.

“Any last words?” You asked, clearly trying to make your voice lower and more intimidating, Clint’s smile only widening. He disarmed you so fast you could barely even process it before you found yourself back to his front, his arm around your neck in a loose hold. His counterattack didn’t dishearten you, your heel stomping down on his foot before you bit his arm, yanking your gun back. He was using barely any of his strength just to allow you to have your fun. “Nice try”, you huffed, pulling the lever, the gun letting out a soft click when no water came out, the tank empty. “I could’ve let you live, but you were stupid”, you scoffed.

“Someone’s taken after her mother”, Tony’s voice mused from behind you, causing you to whip around to see him.

“You’re going down next!” You informed, Natasha’s quiet chuckle drowned out by the chatter of the crowd that had started to build up.

“I am? What did I do?” Tony whined.

“Pause! Is Morgan coming?” You inquired hopefully, Tony giving you an apologetic smile.

“No, she stayed home with Pep. She was too fussy to come here”, he explained, amused by the small frown on your face.

“Pause over. You stole the- the glowing blue cube”, you stated, hastily trying to come up with something valuable that you had heard of before.

“You better keep me alive then if the cube is what you want”, he replied, immediately adopting the role of the enemy.

“Why?” Your brows drew into a frown, a true scowl that made Natasha hide her grin behind her co*cktail glass.

“You won’t know where I’ve hidden it”, he hummed in a secretive voice that carried a condescending tone.

“I’ll get the answer out of you”, you threatened, leaning closer to him, the toy gun poking him in the stomach.

“I’m afraid not”, he smirked, the watch on his wrist letting out a whir as his Iron man suit engulfed his body, plaques of vibranium covering him from head to toe. You gasped in offense at his superior armor and weaponry, kicking him in the shin, upset that you had lost.

“Mom”, you cried in a long whine, huffing in annoyance.

“Tony, play nice. You got this, darling. Use your imagination”, Natasha encouraged you, waiting for your solution to the problem. You eyed the suit carefully, pulling your gun back, knowing it wouldn’t work on the suit. You took some distance, raising your fist in front of you as you let out shooting noise.

“Widow bite! Another one! Pew! Pew!” You giggled, shooting your imaginary widow bites at him, Natasha unable to hide the pride she felt for your actions.

“Aw no, my suit, it’s malfunctioning”, Tony groaned, moving his limbs in an uncoordinated way to mimic failing technology. You laughed rather manically, the suit disassembling as the nanotechnology made it disappear.

“Unfortunately, I’ve got to go. Fair game, agent”, he said, patting your shoulder, his eyes moving around to briefly greet the rest of the team. “Until next time, Baby Widow”, he hummed, winking at you before disappearing into the full crowd.

“I won!” You cheered, going back to Natasha, Clint and Sam. You seemed to have so much energy in you that Natasha could barely believe it. You took long gulps of your sugary drink, ready to go again. “Can we go walk around?” You asked hopefully, Natasha glancing at Clint as if pleading that she wouldn’t have to break up the conversation they were having.

“You can go by yourself. Just don’t talk to strangers and be polite. No running around”, she stated firmly, earning a big nod from you. “We’re gonna be right here if you need us, okay? Don’t stay for too long”, she reminded you as if on autopilot, the rules billowing out of her mouth as if it was second nature to her.

You bolted into the crowd despite your mother’s words, Natasha sighing heavily before she took a swig of her drink, Clint laughing quietly. You decided to go on a scavenger hunt for anything you could find. You wanted to bring something back to your family from your righteous and courageous quest for… well you weren’t sure what you were after, but you were on the lookout for something impressive. You couldn’t see many people that you recognized, most of them at least in their fifties or sixties, busboys holding up trays of champagne glasses, some of them seeming to hold up food. You halted immediately, walking over to a slightly younger boy with a huge plate of small pies. He looked at you in surprise, most likely not expecting to see a child at such an event.

“Hi, what are those?” You asked in curiosity, trying to see the small appetizers a bit better by standing up on your toes.

“They’re beef and Italian Gorgonzola tartalettes”, he answered curtly, the final word sounding very French to you. “Would you like one?” You knew you weren’t supposed to take anything from strangers but those little pies were so cute and they sounded delicious even though you didn’t know what the second ingredient was.

“Can I have them all?” You inquired, a wide smile spreading onto your lips. The boy looked at you in confusion, not expecting such a request from you, or anyone to be honest.

“I’m sorry, little girl. I cannot do that”, he said, not sounding apologetic at all. You frowned, how stupid was he?

“They’re for the Avengers”, you countered brightly, immediately seeing the boy’s decision waver. Surely he couldn’t say no to the Avengers.

“Oh, my apologies. Will you be able to carry the tray by yourself or shall I bring it to them?” You liked what you were hearing, bringing your arms out to accept the tray of food from him. It was rather heavy but people seemed to make way for you whenever they noticed your small frame and the large tray wade through the crowd, some looking amused by the sight, others displeased to see their favorite appetizers be stolen. You didn’t mind them, finding your way back to the bar where everyone was still gathered, a couple new additions having joined as well.

“Mommy, look!” You shouted, nearly running toward them with your tray of food, Natasha’s initial reaction nearly alarmed by the sight of food, hoping that you hadn’t stolen it from someplace you weren’t supposed to be in.

“Where did you get these?” She gasped in surprise, helping you place the tray onto the bar counter to prevent it from flopping over.

“One of the servers”, you replied, pleased to see Clint’s hand steal one of the pies. You tried to climb onto Natasha’s lap but the stool was too tall and you didn’t have decent footing to bring yourself up, Natasha’s hands automatically going under your arms to hoist you onto her lap. “He said they’re tartalettes”, you explained, butchering the French pronunciation so royally that Sam had to hide the face he made so you wouldn’t get offended and think he was making fun of you. “Beef and Gorgonzola. I wanna taste one.” You picked up one of the miniature pies from the tray, careful not to drop it, Natasha taking one for herself as well. You raised it toward her own pie as if making a toast, bumping the tartalettes together. “Cheers.”

“Cheers”, Natasha repeated in amusem*nt, sliding the whole pie into her mouth in one big bite, knowing exactly how good the pies were. You on the other hand took a slightly apprehensive bite of the meat on top, finding the smell a bit off-putting. It was a bit funky. Sam grabbed at least five pies for himself, Clint and him laughing about something as he helped himself to his second pie.

“Mommy, it’s blue”, you whined suddenly, noticing that the white cheese had a blue spot on it. You pointed at it, Natasha frowning.

“Honey, it’s the Gorgonzola”, she explained, starting to feel like you had no idea what it meant.

“Why is it blue?”

“It’s blue cheese. The molding process turns the cheese blue”, she elaborated, your body halting mid-bite. You gave her a horrified look, scared to move at all. You swore you could taste the mold in your mouth at least tenfold, getting the urge to gag. An amused smile on Natasha’s face, she reached across the counter for a napkin, bringing it to your mouth. You spat out the food discreetly, seeming rather upset.

“Why would you eat mold?” You asked, clearly appalled by the idea that went heavily against anything that you knew about food.

“It’s completely safe to eat and people like the taste”, Natasha hummed, eating yet another pie.

“What people?” You scoffed, eyeing the tartalettes like they had just personally offended you.

“Adults, malyshka (baby)”, she replied but you were already sliding off her lap.

“I’m gonna look for pizza bites”, you huffed.”

“I don’t…” Natasha started but you were already gone, on a quest to find something without mold in it. “…think they’re gonna have pizza bites”, she reasoned, her tone turning into a quiet mumble, a small smile appearing on her lips.

“Think she’s gonna find any?” Clint asked, a slight grin on his face, his eyes rather playful.

“Poor thing is gonna have to run to the streets to find the closest thing to a pizza”, Sam chuckled, grasping his drink as the bartender set down beers for him and Clint.

“We’ll see what she brings next. I hope she finds those crab cakes”, she mused, craving the most popular snack at the venue.

“Oh! I’d love those”, Clint groaned, taking another pie, the three dozen tartalettes waning in a steady pace.

It didn’t take too long for you to come back with yet another tray, this time bringing them round, thick slices of baguette topped with tomato.

“Did you find your pizza bites?” Natasha asked, making more room for the next dish that you set down, eyeing the bread that she already knew would taste heavenly.

“No, I found brus- bruschetta.” You struggled with the name of the appetizer, trying to say it the same way the waiter had. “But”, you exclaimed all of a sudden, looking up at everyone on their stools. “I’m gonna get some! At first the lady said no, but then when she asked who I was with I told her that my mommy’s an Avenger. Then she said she would bring me something from the kitchen”, you recalled the events, clearly excited that you were getting your deeply desired pizza bites.

“She’s discovered nepotism”, Sam quipped slyly to Clint who huffed out a laugh, Natasha biting back her own chuckle.

“Wow, isn’t that sweet of her”, she mused, helping you up to sit with her so you could taste the bruschetta you had bought. You nodded your head, grabbing a slice of baguette for yourself. You bit into it, half of the tomato cubes sliding onto the table, but you didn’t dislike the taste. At least it was better than mold.

“You like that one?” Natasha asked, biting into her own piece of bread, humming softly at how fresh it was. You let out a noise of agreement, taking another bite.

“It’s not moldy”, you quipped, Natasha rolling her eyes gently.

Getting food for the team ended up being your favorite pastime for the night, the large trays piling up on the bar counter whenever you brought a new dish you had found from the venue. You also got a small order of steaming hot cheese buns that you got to dip into a small bowl of marinara sauce, the lady who brought it to you eyeing the team rather intensively, especially the men, a soft blush on her cheeks whenever any of them looked directly at her. Eventually Wanda joined you as well, lured in by the small crème brûlées that you had discovered from a more secluded corner of the hall. She ate at least seven of the tiny cups, silently sitting beside Natasha as she spooned the sweet treats into her mouth. You couldn’t lie, you had had too many of them, the cream starting to taste a bit too rich and sweet to you, but that was fixed by consuming at least ten chocolate covered strawberries that revived your taste buds back to life. The waiters simply couldn’t say no to you whenever you batted your eyelashes and told them how your mommy –the almighty Black Widow– and the other team members were hoping to have a taste of whatever dish they were serving. It worked every single time.

By eleven o’clock at night you were deep in a sugar rush, running in circles around Steve, giggling loudly. He was completely unbothered by you as he continued his conversation with Natasha, occasionally offering his hand to you in a high-five as you sped by him. You were fully capable of entertaining yourself, cackling loudly when you grabbed Steve’s hand instead of slapping it. Your hair was a mess, the dress was all ruffled up, barely anything left of your minimal makeup. You attempted to climb up Steve’s body, hanging onto his arm with all the strength you had, treating him like a monkey bar until Natasha finally stepped in, feeling sorry for Steve’s fancy suit.

“Shh, slow down baby. I think it’s time for us to go home”, she mused softly, knowing very well that you were soon bound to crash, hard. You laughed at her despite following her orders, going to sit with her for a moment to calm yourself down.

“Not yet”, you whined, poking her just to annoy her. Natasha gave you a look which you completely ignored, poking her again. You attempted to tickle her, suddenly finding your hand trapped between her bicep and side. “Mommy”, you giggled, tugging your hand, but you failed to free it. You snuck your other hand to her waist, trying to tickle her again, the corner of Natasha’s mouth rising up into a smirk that she failed to hold back. Her hands attacked you out of nowhere, tickling you ruthlessly until you were laughing so hard that no sound came out. She loved to see you so beyond happy, prolonging the night just to keep that smile on your face for a little longer.

Chapter 28: The monsters are gone

Chapter Text

You waited in the hallway, sitting tightly on your seat, just like you had been doing every other week for six months in a row, waiting for your therapist to call you in. You knew her very well at that point and didn’t mind talking to her regularly. She was a lovely woman and she had helped you a lot with unpacking the feelings that Natasha’s accident had left you with, even if you couldn’t truly understand it yet. You were aware of the concept of therapy and you knew what it entailed, and had even gotten familiar with the process in the past few months. The work she did with you was rather subtle, sometimes so subtle that you didn’t even realize what was going on. You spent a large part of your sessions talking about your days: school, hobbies, friends. Sometimes you talked about less fun stuff like nightmares or fears that you might have had. You had talked about anxiety and gone over many different emotions that you had felt after the accident. You had even talked about that which you could never talk to anyone else about, especially not Natasha. You were scared of causing her any harm, desperately trying not to give her any reason to be sad, which resulted in you paying the price for it.

Your nightmares were getting worse, sometimes keeping you up half the night. Normally you would have gone to sleep next to Natasha if you had trouble falling or staying asleep, but you didn’t want her to ask about your nightmares. You didn’t want her to know what you dreamt about at nights despite knowing it was wrong of you to shut her out like that. You knew she would be nothing but accepting of anything you were to tell her, but you couldn’t help but to feel like she didn’t have to know about what she had said to you in the hospital, so you kept it to yourself, reading in the darkness of your bedroom until you physically couldn’t stay awake anymore. However, if the fear you felt became unbearably strong you usually ended up going to sleep next to your mother.

“Y/N, come in!” Your therapist exclaimed happily, opening the door for you. A smile spread on your face as you stood up and hurried inside, taking your jacket and shoes off before climbing onto her comfortable couch. “How are you today?“

“I’m okay I think. You?”

“You think?” She gave you an inspecting look, silently asking you to elaborate on your response.

“I’m really tired. I couldn’t sleep last night”, you admitted immediately, finding it easy to tell her the truth because there never were any consequences.

“Did you have nightmares?” She inquired knowingly, taking a seat opposite of you, an empathetic pout on her lips. You nodded your head, very clearly becoming a bit more reserved as you thought over your scary dreams. “Was it the same one?” You nodded again, looking away. “Would you want to tell me about it, dear?” She prompted gently, hoping for you to find relief from voicing out the things you feared. You had told the dream to her countless of times with a few changes in details, but overall it was always the same. You are in a dark hallway, monsters lurking in the corners, watching your every move as you finally reach the door of Natasha’s hospital room where the loud beeping is coming from. She sees you and threatens to hurt you. Sometimes she yells, sometimes she’s too calm and quiet, but you’re always scared.

“I was in the dark hallway again and there’s that beeping; the machine that tells mommy’s heartbeat. I was really cold and scared”, you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers as you went on. “I can’t see into the corners because they’re completely black, but I know something is there. And- and it’s looking at me.” You felt yourself start to tear up as you recalled the feeling you had woken up with, the anxiety constricting in your chest. “I’m too scared to move in my dream because it’s gonna get me. Last night… I think it got mommy”, you whispered nearly imperceptibly, your therapist’s brows furrowing.

“Why do you think that?”

“The beeping stopped”, you hiccuped, wiping your eyes into your forearms. “And- and when- when I finally woke up it was dark in my bedroom, just like in the dream.” You whimpered loudly, sniffling to keep the snot from running down your nose. “I thought I was stuck there, but… I found my bedside lamp. I swear the monsters were in my room. I swear they were there.”

“I know it feels that way, but remember what I told you? There’s no one there physically. It’s all in your head”, she said gently. You didn’t seem to know how to respond because you were convinced that someone was in your room at night. “It can feel very real, and sometimes our brains are so creative that they start to play tricks on us.”

“But what happened was real. Mommy told me she was gonna h-hurt me and a-at night when I was alone there was beeping and monsters”, you countered hastily, trying to make your therapist understand what you had experienced.

“I know, hon.” You had gone over the incident dozens of times but you refused to believe that the monsters that you were so adamant about were really just a byproduct of your fear and anxiety, a way for you to conceptualize the terror you had felt. It didn’t make enough sense to you so you refused to believe it altogether. “I’m really sorry to hear that you’ve been having that awful dream again. You are so brave for telling me about it. Did you know that?” She whispered encouragingly, offering you a warm smile when your eyes met. “You’re doing an amazing job here. The more you talk about it the less scary it will eventually be”, she explained, her voice holding that specific tone that was uplifting and comforting at the same time. “Have you tried to talk to your mother about this? Or maybe someone else at home?”

“I told Steve about it the same day the accident happened and then later you.”

“Could you consider talking to mommy about it?” She prompted again, knowing it was likely going to be the most beneficial solution to the problem. “How does the idea make you feel?”

“I don’t wanna hurt her”, you admitted quietly, letting out a small huff to release stress. “She didn’t mean what she said”, you reasoned to yourself, repeating the sentence that had gotten you through the past couple of months.

“But, honey, what about you? You’re hurting now. You need her comfort and help”, she countered in a gentle reminder.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Does the thought scare you?” You thought over the question, looking for an answer until you concluded that it did scare you, at least to some extent. You nodded your head. “Do you know why?”

“What if she did mean it?” You exhaled, voicing your doubts for the first time ever. They were the reason why you had nightmares because you were still holding onto that tiny bit of doubt that was cemented into the back of your mind. What if she did want to hurt you? What if she didn’t want you as her own? Rationally, none of it made sense because you knew that Natasha wanted you around and she had never given you any other reason to think that she didn’t, yet the emotional side of you was unable to trust the evidence that was right before your eyes. You had already lost one pair of parents, who was to say that you wouldn’t lose Natasha as well.

“What do you think would happen then?”

“She would leave and I would be sad. Maybe I would live with the others then. Maybe someone else would want to… adopt me. Or then I… would just be alone.” You had thought about it before, just in case.

“Has she ever done anything that made you scared that she would leave or made you feel unwanted?” There were so many questions, your processing time seeming to double the more tired you grew. You tried to think of a time when Natasha had rejected you or perhaps ignored you, but you couldn’t remember her ever doing so. She always had time for you, even on her worst days, she was always able to give you room in her life. You shook your head definitively.

“No, she’s never made me feel that way”, you admitted, your therapist cracking a small smile. It was refreshing to hear that from her younger patients when most of them were troubled kids that came from broken or toxic households.

“I want you to remember that whenever you feel doubtful, okay? Think about that. Mommy’s never made you feel unwanted. Can you say that for me?” She prompted gently, encouraging you to engage in the affirmation.

“Mommy’s never made me feel unwanted”, you repeated, hugging your knees to your chest. It made you miss Natasha, wishing to have her comfort with you even though your tears had already seized.

“Good, perfect!”

“But what if she doesn’t leave but dies? What if the monster really does get her?” It was your biggest fear, even greater than Natasha leaving or abandoning you because it was far too realistic. Everyone was going to die and you couldn’t know when that fate would fall upon your mother, her line of work only intensifying your constant fear.

“Death can feel very scary because you don’t know what you’re dealing with”, she nodded, her face telling you that she was searching for the right words to answer your question. “But it doesn’t have to be scary. It can be something neutral, something that we will all experience eventually. I know it can be hard not to worry about it before anything even happens.” You nodded your head immediately, her words resonating strongly with you. “But it’s more important to focus on the present, focus on what you have right now. What’s something that you like about your mother?”

“I like…” You hummed in thought, trying to think of the very best things about her, the things that made you the happiest. “I like her hugs and kisses. I like to go into her bed in the morning so she can cuddle me”, you explained, smiling brightly. “I also like how much fun we have together. She’s really good at playing stuff like hide and seek or swords”, you continued.

“Those seem like very positive things, wouldn’t you say?” You nodded. “You have all of that with her. You have it, and I want you to focus on that. Focus on how happy it makes you, focus on the fact that you have that, you have her, here and now. Don’t give room to the scary thoughts. They don’t deserve your attention.” You took a moment to process her words, feeling like there was something there. What your therapist was saying made sense. You wanted to do exactly as she had told you, but it felt like a huge change that you didn’t know how to make.

“How do I do that?”

“I’m glad you asked. Keep reminding yourself of what you have and emphasize the good and the positive. It’s okay if the thoughts enter your mind sometimes. It’s completely normal to be afraid of death, but if you let them take over –that’s when it becomes a problem.” She explained, trying her best to make you understand what she was telling you. “It won’t happen overnight, but if you keep affirming these positive thoughts whenever you feel scared of death it will eventually pay off. It is very important to realize that death is nothing to be scared of.”

“Got it”, you huffed quietly, feeling like there was too much information, too much emotions and too much of everything. Your eyes started to drift around the room, finding the glasses of water on the table right next to a stack of copy papers and crayons. You wanted to go home, starting to lose your focus. She was talking again but you weren’t hearing a word she was saying, a sudden silence taking over, your eyes finding the small bowl of sweets that always sat on her side table.

“Alright. You can take one. Why don’t we continue from here in two weeks?” She suggested gently, sensing that the session was over on your part. Your eyes shifted to her, your face unable to hide your relief. You took one of the wrapped pieces of candy and opened it up to pop the caramel into your mouth, the perfectly sweet and salty treat melting on your tongue.

“Thank you.” Your words came across a bit shy as you stood up from the couch, sliding your shoes and jacket back on.

“You’re welcome, dear.” She gave you a soft, genuine smile as you headed for the door.

“Thank you, Miss Elsher. Bye!”

“Bye Y/N!” The door slammed shut behind you, a very specific weight lifting off your shoulders when you were finally able to find your mother who was waiting for you in the hallway. She pocketed her phone when her eyes landed on you, a bright smile taking over her features when you hurried toward her, sinking into her arms as a greeting.

“Hi, dorogaya (darling), how was therapy?” She asked softly, resting her chin on the crown of your head as she squeezed you tightly.

“It was okay”, you mumbled into her chest, your eyes remaining closed as you felt her warmth against you, clinging onto her all of a sudden.

“Are you okay?” Natasha tried to pull back to see your face better but you refused to let go of her, nuzzling even closer to her. You didn’t reply to her question, taking a moment to just focus on her embrace. She let you be, holding you until you were ready to pull away and keep going. Natasha scanned your face very thoroughly once you finally allowed her to see you, glad to find that you weren’t crying, her hands cupping your cheeks to caress your face gently. “I was thinking we should go do some grocery shopping and then…” she paused for a brief moment to build up excitement, a smile tugging at her lips. “I thought we could pass by the food court”, she mused, watching how your face lit up with vivacity. “You wanna go?” She asked for confirmation, earning an enthusiastic nod from you, her own smile only brightening.

You loved to go grocery shopping with Natasha, especially when you would get to have food from the food court, and of course no grocery run was fully completed without checking if the toy aisles were still filled with about a thousand things you would have wanted Natasha to buy for you. She grabbed a shopping cart for herself, glancing down at the handwritten grocery list that had been scribbled onto a random post-it. You watched her skim over the list, Miss Elsher’s words on repeat in your mind. You felt a desperate sense of longing for your mother, craving her undivided attention, your mind and body searching for comfort and reassurance from her. You wanted Natasha to pick you up into her arms, but after a moment of consideration you felt like you were too old to be carried around like a toddler, resorting to holding her hand instead. You reached for her hand that rested against the bar of the shopping cart, a mere brush of your fingers enough to alert her. She offered her hand to you, giving you a firm squeeze once your hand was snuggly in hers.

You didn’t want to let go of her whenever she stepped to the side to pick up a food item, but you let her go anyway, trying not to make the trip difficult for her, although Natasha would probably not have minded at all. You always grabbed her hand back whenever she returned, Natasha picking up on it rather fast, from then on making sure your hand remained in hers even if she wanted to check out a product, simply dragging you along with her to take a look at the variety of food options on the shelves. Later on she walked down the toy aisles with you, marveling at all the cool toys there, despite both of you knowing you weren’t going to get anything that day. Next was the bakery section where you somehow convinced Natasha to buy a box of red velvet cupcakes for the evening, imploring her to think of how delicious the lush cake would be and how creamy the frosting had to be based on how fluffy it looked and how loaded the cupcakes were. In all honesty Natasha didn’t even want to deny you because she herself had noticed the appetizing cupcakes before you had even pointed them out.

As you held Natasha’s hand, watching it swing back and forth gently between you, you considered telling her about your nightmare. The urge was constant. You just felt like you needed to get it out of you all of a sudden. You could feel the words on the tip of your tongue, begging to be said. You knew if you just opened your mouth you would spew all the secrets you had kept from her, but you didn’t. Your mouth remained shut. You couldn’t do it, finally giving up completely when you deemed that it wasn’t an appropriate conversation topic for the grocery store. Thankfully enough, the food court was nearing, working as a perfect distraction from your inner conflict. You knew you would get to choose one savory item and one sweet item to have for dinner, the scent of pizza dough and grease hitting your nose as you were already starting to ponder your options.

“What are you getting?” You asked Natasha, glancing up at her as she scanned the menu of a pizza place.

“I think I wanna get a hot dog. What about you, milaya (honey)?” Her hand found the back of your head, petting your hair gently as she pulled you a bit closer to her for no particular reason.

“I was thinking fried chicken and then caramel sundae for dessert”, you replied, Natasha’s brow arching at the mention of soft serve.

“Mm, that sounds perfect. I’m definitely having the strawberry sundae”, she mumbled against the top of your head before placing a kiss there.

You ordered your food to-go as a way to save some time since it was a school night, Natasha finding it odd that the only thing you wanted was the chicken. No fries or dips, but she did get you a soda because she knew you would be thirsty before you had even left the parking lot. She handed you a stack of napkins just in case, finishing the last of her hot dog before turning on the engine and heading home. The whole duration of the ride you couldn’t stop thinking about your nightmare, silently eating only the crispy coating off your chicken, turning your fingers into a greasy mess. Natasha did chat with you every once in a while, but after noticing how focused you seemed to be on your chicken she let you be.

It bothered you that you couldn’t seem to get the words out, feeling conflicted again. You wanted to tell her and felt a strong need to tell her about what was bothering you, so why couldn’t you? What were you so afraid of? It was mommy, just mommy. She wouldn’t mind. Yet no matter how many times you built your courage up you couldn’t get the words out. Not at home, not when watching soap operas on TV with your cupcakes, not when brushing your teeth, not when she read you a bedtime story. You couldn’t do it, laying alone in bed, surrounded by darkness until it got far too intimidating and you turned your bedside lamp back on to dispel the monsters in the corners. You were disappointed in yourself for not being able to speak up when you needed to, picking up a book from your nightstand despite not feeling like reading at all. You simply needed a distraction from everything and were hoping to find it within the hardback covers of a book you had recently started. Somewhere along your attempts to keep your eyes on the lines of text you fell asleep, the book flopping off the bed as your hands finally went limp and you fell asleep.

•••

“Mommy!” Natasha’s eyes flashed open, the sound loud enough to wake her despite it being barely above the loudness of a normal conversation. It was just loud enough for her to hear in the dead silence of the night, Natasha pulling off her covers to come check in on you. She could tell you had had a lot on your mind that day and she had almost expected something along the lines of a nightmare occurring. She slid on a cardigan from the back of a chair to fight off the chilliness of the night, quietly slipping out of her bedroom to find you. She spotted you in the corner of your bed, without your duvet, still fast asleep as you shivered lightly, a permanent frown etched onto your face. You moved your hands slightly, your body squirming on the bed as if not quite sure which way to go. Natasha walked to your bedside, noting the light that was on, her eyes landing briefly on the picture from your beach day that was framed and facing the bed. She felt the empathetic pout that appeared on her lips, her attention turning back to you.

“Hey, baby”, she whispered gently, carefully placing her hand on your trembling shoulder to wake you up, a slight shake from her enough to make your body jolt upright, the cry you let out something mixed between a shriek and a croak as if you couldn’t properly scream. You whipped your head around to see Natasha, your wide eyes filling with tears in an instant. Your breathing was shallow, armpits sticky with cold sweat as you just stared ahead, not sure if you could even move. “Shh, it’s alright kroshka (little one), mommy’s here. You’re safe. Mommy’s right here”, she assured you immediately, pulling you closer to her to bring you into her embrace as quiet sobs started to fall from your lips. Natasha wrapped your arms around her neck, standing up from the bed with you in her embrace, securing your legs around her waist as she hushed you again.

“Everything’s okay”, she reminded you again, walking back and forth in the room, her hand brushing long strokes up and down your back as you cried out your initial terror. You clung to her neck, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, comforted by the way she was moving around the room, clearly heading for the door. “Let’s go get you some water, okay?” You nodded your confirmation against her, relaxing a bit further into her hold. She poured you a glass of water in the kitchen, bringing it to your lips so you could take a sip, gently hushing you when you hiccuped again.

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked softly, her lips pressing to the side of your head in a small kiss.

“Yes”, you whimpered, wiping your mouth into your shirt. “Mommy, it was so scary”, you cried, bursting into fresh sobs all of a sudden. “The- the monsters g-got you”, you explained hastily as if Natasha had any previous knowledge of your nightmares, but you just had to tell her, it was too much for you to bear alone. “And y-you were so mean to- to me”, you explained, a frown forming on Natasha’s face as she tried to understand what you were saying. “I thought- I thought you were… I thought you were gonna hurt me”, you spluttered helplessly, not sure if you were making sense, you just needed to get rid of the awful feeling inside you.

“Hurt you?” Natasha inquired, a sense of worry stirring up inside her. Where would you have gotten such a horrible idea?

“Yes”, you lamented, pressing your face into the crook of her neck to hide from the disappointment you were going to bring her. “You s-said you’d kill me… in the hospital”, you continued, the worry that Natasha felt growing tenfold. She knew that she had given Clint a good smack in the nose while unaware of her surroundings in the hospital, but no one had mentioned anything about you. Had you been there with everyone?

“I said that?”

“Uh-huh, you were so mad a-and scary.” Your voice was small, so delicate as if you were still afraid.

“No, honey, I mean in real life not dreams”, she clarified, pulling back a bit to see your face. You looked like you didn’t want to say it, the sorrowful frown on your face giving away the answer.

“You did. It wasn’t a dream. It was in the hospital”, you mumbled so softly it was hard to hear. Natasha didn’t know what to feel, she didn’t know how to process what she had done. She was too overwhelmed and felt the daunting need to escape, wishing she didn’t have to remain put-together and comforting for you. She desperately wanted to shut you out, shut everyone out until she had figured it out herself, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that because you needed her and you were far more important than she could ever be. Despite the sudden stiffness of her body she continued to bounce and rock you gently, her free hand brushing down your arm, lips finding your forehead. She needed to answer quickly. She needed to reassure you that you were doing the right thing by telling her, but Natasha felt like no words were coming out. All these weeks when she had heard you stay up at night were the result of something she had said. She was at fault for your constant nightmares. She didn’t know what to say or do. What on Earth could she possibly say to take back something so awful?

“Mommy?” You asked quietly after a long moment of silence that was accompanied by your soft sniffles.

“Yeah, sweetie?” She tried to hide the pain in her voice but you could hear it very clearly, her tone much heavier than normally.

“I shouldn’t have-”

“Oh no, baby. Thank you so much for telling me. You did the right thing, my darling. Would you want to talk about it more?” She suggested hastily, almost hoping that you didn’t because she felt like she couldn’t stomach hearing how horrible she had made you feel.

“Miss Elsher says I should”, you mumbled vaguely, not sure what was supposed to happen next.

“What do you want? Do you feel like talking about it?” Natasha carried you down the hall, back toward your bedroom, but your hand clung to the doorframe all of a sudden, halting her in her tracks.

“I wanna sleep in your bed”, you told her, pulling on the wall to make her turn around, Natasha offering you a small smile.

“Then mommy’s bed it is”, she mused, taking you into her room. You lay down on the bed, cuddling close to her for protection from the monsters that usually returned whenever you closed your eyes, comforted by the weight of her arms around you. There was a moment of pure silence as you went over your thoughts and feelings, suddenly opening your mouth to speak.

“Why did you say it?“ Your voice was small, the vulnerability that you felt evident in your tone. “Steve said you were seeing delusions”, you added, hoping for her answer to be something similar. So, Steve had known, yet he never brought it up with her.

“Honey, I don’t remember anything. I-I don’t have an answer for you”, she sighed, still in disbelief over the entire situation. “I didn’t even know I had spoken to you. I nearly broke Clint’s nose and I had no idea he had even visited me”, she explained to you, finding it difficult to talk about something she had no real input on.

“They said he ran into the door”, you replied bluntly, Natasha pausing for a moment. Oops.

“Oh.” You both stayed silent for a moment, struggling to move on with the conversation.
“I need you to know that I didn’t mean it. I would never want you any harm, ever”, Natasha started again after a while. “You hear me? Never.” The anguish that she was experiencing shone clearly through her tone, her voice cracking lightly as she tried to hold back her tears. “You’re my baby and you’re the most important thing to me in this whole wide world”, she whispered, hugging you tighter, the pressure of her arms conveying her despair. You could physically feel the emotions that coursed through her when you were pressed up so closely to her body, amplifying your own emotional distress. “If anything ever happened to you I wouldn’t be able to move on. I love you far too much”, she explained, rubbing your back softly, her touch turning a bit more gentle so she wouldn’t squeeze you too hard. Although she wished she could have squished you as tight as she possibly could to show you just how much she cared for you.

“I would do anything to keep you safe, and when I say anything, I mean it. There are things that I’ve done, things that I’m certainly not proud of, but I would do them again in a heartbeat if that meant you would be safe.” Her words were genuine, filled with emotion and you believed her because you knew her. She didn’t want to harm you and her words only confirmed what you had wished to hear from her. “You know that right?” She asked after not receiving any kind of response from you. “Y/N? It is important to me that you know that.” You nodded your head weakly against her chest.

“I know”, you whispered, Natasha’s eyes sliding shut in relief as she tried to control her breathing. She didn’t want to burst into sobs. It would have been too much for you to witness.

“Good”, she hummed, cupping the back of your head with her hand, smoothing it over the curve of your skull, recognizing its round shape. It never failed to amaze her to find comfort in such tiny details, reminded of the many, many times she had held you in her arms with her hand in that very spot.

“I’m so proud of you for bringing this up. It’s important that we share things like this even if it might feel uncomfortable or scary at the moment. You were so brave today”, she mumbled into your hair, breathing in your scent. “And if you ever need confirmation of how much I love you, please don’t be afraid to ask for it. I’ll be more than happy to tell you over and over again.” You nodded your head, unable to speak, unable to really process everything, but you felt relieved regardless. You felt safe and wanted, her words driving away your doubts and filling your mind with reassurance. It warmed up your chest, allowing your muscles to finally relax. She loved you. She would never hurt you. You were safe.

Chapter 29: Teatime

Chapter Text

Natasha’s fist connected with the boxing bag, her bare fists straining the harder she hit. She was angry, beyond angry, all that pent up rage and frustration going right into the leather surface of her opponent. She let out a grunt, a particularly harsh jab of her hand making her knuckles ache. She pulled back, taking a look at her red hands, each knuckle painted a few shades darker than was considered normal. Her skin looked irritated, frail, like it was just about to peel back enough to let a little bit of blood seep through. They felt sore, a gentle ache radiating through her hands and up her wrists, but she couldn’t stop. It was the only thing that kept her occupied from the emotions that stirred inside her, that and lifting weights, but she had already exhausted herself to the point of putting herself in danger at the weight racks. She couldn’t afford a real injury, only something small, like the knuckles that were already begging for mercy. As if angered by the very thought of being tired Natasha landed another punch into the bag, grunting quietly, the pain intensified by the absence of the constant burn that had started to slowly ebb away during her short break. You were lounging around in the living room, having a tea party with Wanda which gave Natasha a good amount of time to get an intense workout in for the day, although the intensity of it was starting to get out of hand.

Upon entering the gym, Steve heard the soft, repetitive grunts that came from the far left corner of the gym. He recognized her voice, a small smile appearing on his lips as he walked farther inside to greet her. He came a bit closer to the boxing bag to see Natasha on the other side of it, her harsh, vigil eyes landing on him as if he had just intruded on a very personal moment, but he figured that it was just caused by her workout.

“Hey, Nat.” He waved his hand up casually, Natasha halting abruptly, turning to him instead of the bag that swung gently as it hung from the hook above.

“You.” She grumbled as if offended by his sole presence, her attack faster than he could process when it came so unexpectedly. Natasha smacked him in the face with the back of her hand, her left fist connecting with his rock-solid chest as she drove her knee up, ready to kick him.

“Natasha!” Steve exclaimed in shock, his large hands wrapping tightly around both of her wrists, iron-tight grip not allowing her to move an inch. “What the hell?” She struggled against his overpowering strength, doing her best to try to tug her hands free, but he didn’t allow it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She demanded loudly, her voice failing to hide the despair that bled through.

“What? Tell you what?” He asked hastily, thoroughly confused by the sudden ire she felt for him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again, a sob falling from her lips despite her eyes remaining dry. “I threatened to hurt my own child and you knew!” She cried, realization crossing his features. Steve’s gaze landed on her thrashing hands for long enough to notice the developing blisters on her knuckles, his hands pulling her closer to him, slowly wrapping his arms around her in a hug. Natasha tried to fight back, but her shoves and jabs were merely a ghost of what she was capable of, soon giving into the affectionate gesture.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered into her hair that was pulled back into a loose ponytail, his beard scratching her forehead gently. He heard her sniffle, a brief and quiet sound that let him know she was crying. Natasha didn’t speak out of the fear of sounding like she was about to burst into sobs, her lips parting enough to allow her to breathe through them as a way for her to calm herself down. “I thought she would have brought it up herself”, he offered as an explanation. “I didn’t think it was any of my business”, he lamented, squeezing her tighter when he felt her shudder as if suppressing a cry.

Natasha had felt awful ever since she had found out about those terrible words she had said to you, her shame and guilt having accumulated into rage over the past couple of days. She was livid with herself for once again f*cking things up. She didn’t feel qualified enough to be your mother despite doing her very best and it felt like no matter how hard she tried she could never be that perfect mother she had envisioned for you. Of course rationally she knew that no mother was perfect, but for some reason she had convinced herself that maybe she could be. She knew exactly what to do in order to ruin a child the way she had been ruined which had led her to believe that she automatically knew at least how to not behave with you, but nothing had ever prepared her for the emotional distress of motherhood, and it seemed like it only got worse every year as new challenges of raising a child introduced themselves to her. She had always sworn to herself that she would never do anything to hurt you. She had made a promise to that abandoned little girl inside of her to never cause you any harm, no matter what kind, and she had failed. She had broken that promise, that one single promise that meant more than any of the other ones did.

She felt like a failure, but she deserved to feel that way because she was the reason you cried at night, she was the reason you feared to close your eyes at bedtime. There was nothing she could do or say to take back the words that had ruined you. There was no one and nothing that could undo her mistake. In her swarm of intense emotions, Natasha saw no way out from the consequences of her own actions. She had failed and it was the end of the world. She despised herself for it. She hated every cell of her being for not being more careful on that mission. She felt a crippling wave of anger flush through her before it turned into sadness, her eyelids sliding shut as she hid her face against Steve’s chest.

“I told her you didn’t mean it”, he whispered, the wide palm of his hand pressing against the back of her head to pull her closer to him. “I explained it all to her and I tried my best”, he said softly, sounding apologetic. She remained quiet for a while, struggling to open her mouth before having confirmed that her voice was going to be even.

“Thank you”, she whispered almost imperceptibly, her freed hands smoothing past his waist to hook behind his back in a hug. She gave him a slight squeeze, starting to pull away from him. Natasha kept her gaze down, doing her best to hide her reddened eyes, but Steve’s warm hands found her cheeks, cupping them softly to tilt her chin up to make her face him.

“She’s alright, isn’t she? She’s just fine, Natasha. This isn’t the end of the world”, he assured her, his thumbs swiping the fresh tears that spilled down her cheeks. She felt ashamed for letting him see her like that but decided to sit in that shame out of spite toward herself. She was tired of trying to always act so tough while constantly preaching you to be open with your emotions. She needed to stop being a hypocrite and actually practice what she preached.

“Feels like it”, she mumbled defensively, a small, grumpy pout appearing on her lips when she saw the slight smile he gave her. She started to pull away, feeling a bit awkward, but Steve didn’t move an inch.

“Where you goin’? The hug was just getting good”, he complained teasingly, his grin widening when Natasha allowed him to pull her back into his embrace, a watery chuckle coming from her. It wasn’t so bad to be hugged by him. She let out a heavy sigh, closing her eyes when his hand started to rub up and down her back in slow strokes.

“It was our fault, not yours”, he stated solemnly after a moment of silently going over the events again. “No one can blame you when you weren’t even conscious. You didn’t know and you weren’t in control”, he continued, Natasha stilling completely, desperately trying not to break down at the bit of assurance she was receiving. “We should have made sure that she was taken care of. We should have all looked after her better.”

“Yeah”, she hummed sadly, accepting his words.

“You haven’t failed as a mother. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt her on purpose”, he went on, but Natasha couldn’t help but to feel astonished by what he was saying. She pulled back enough to see his face, those sad, jade eyes wide and watery as she looked up at him, searching for an explanation. How did he know exactly what to say?

“I think you’ve always struggled with that”, he hummed almost conversationally, keeping up his casual and comforting demeanor. “You make one little mistake and suddenly you’re a crappy mom. But let me tell you something. I had a wonderful mother. We didn’t always have it easy, but she remained sweet and kind through it all, but never perfect. There’s no such thing as a perfect mother. We’re all human –well at least most of us here. We make mistakes, we hurt the people we love, but what we do after is what counts.”

“Wow, you really have an inspirational speech for every occasion”, Natasha huffed in amusem*nt, but deep down she was touched by his attempts at comforting her.

“It comes with the job”, he chuckled, shrugging lightly. “I see a lot of my ma in you and I can promise you right here and now that Y/N adores you, through and through. She might not realize it yet, but in a few years’ time she’s going to find out just how crappy the world is, how cruel, and she’ll be infinitely grateful for the way you’ve treated her.” Natasha could hear it in his voice that he was talking from experience, mirroring his own life and relationship with his mother to you and her situation. She had always liked how much he appreciated his mother, warmed by the fondness behind his words. “You’ve given her something far too many people don’t get in their lifetime.”

“Which is…?” She prompted softly.

“The unconditional love of a parent”, he replied, Natasha’s face forming into a mild grimace.

“I’m the epitome of someone like that”, she huffed almost bitterly despite trying to add some humor into her tone.

“Like I said: far too many”, he mused, his hands smoothing down her biceps before his right hand found its way to her face. His thumb caressed tenderly up her jaw as he offered her a lopsided smile. “But you turned out decent”, he said playfully. “A little rough around the edges but- ow!” Natasha smacked him in the head, eliciting a laugh from him, his hand coming up to shelter him from any possible punches she was going to aim at him.

“Thanks for the pep talk, old man”, she retorted, pulling away from him completely to escape the situation, sensing that their moment had come to an end. His beard brushed against her cheek, lips pressing briefly down on her warm skin, Natasha giving him a shy smile.

“Anytime.”

“You’re welcome for the sweat stains by the way”, she quipped brightly, a wide grin on her face as she tried to slyly wipe away the remnants of her tears. She gestured at his chest, the dark blue shirt partially damp, but his smile only seemed to widen.

“I was thinking this shirt could use a little bedazzle.” Natasha raised her brow at him questioningly, unable to believe the term he had used. “Y/N taught me that”, he chuckled, moving toward the weights as Natasha backed away to the women’s dressing room.

“Figures.” Speaking of you, she missed her little girl. “I’ll see you later, bye!”

“See ya!”

She hurried through her shower routine, her stomach rumbling loudly, clearly ready for lunch, Natasha briefly wondering if you had baked those muffins with Wanda for tea time. Just like she had expected she found you and Wanda from the communal living room where the coffee table was covered by a fancy tablecloth that draped over the side and bunched up on the carpet but it didn’t seem to bother you. However, what she hadn’t expected was Tony sitting at the end of the table, wearing a tiara far too small for his big head. Natasha smirked at him, studying his princess get-up and the way he was holding the tiny espresso cup in his hand.

“Tony! You’re forgetting the pinkie!” You whined, placing your cup down to fix the position of his hand, gently prying his pinkie finger up, the rest remaining on the handle.

“Silly me”, he huffed, sounding maybe slightly irritated, but Natasha could tell there was fondness in his tone. “How impolite of me”, he mumbled apologetically, purposely putting on a fancier style of speech.

“We just went over this”, Wanda reminded him, giving him a stern look that made him roll his eyes.

“It’s okay, he’ll learn”, you mused, sitting back down on your spot on the floor, picking up your mug of tea, the cup filled to the brim with overly sugary milk tea. Tootsie was having his tea with honey, Wanda had hers black, and Tony had gotten a special permission to drink a shot of espresso. He knocked it back, your brows drawing into a frown of disapproval for his hastiness.

“Natasha”, he said as if in relief. “You’re right in time for tea!” He exclaimed in feigned excitement, getting up from the floor. He must have had something better to do based on his sudden need to exit the living room. Your head turned to see Natasha as he placed the tiara over her damp hair.

“Wow, look at that, so pretty”, Tony mused teasingly, his fingertips sliding down the sides of her face to cup her cheeks briefly. “A true princess. Now, go take my spot”, he whispered almost pleadingly, nudging a smiling Natasha toward you.

“Hi, mom! You can take his place”, you offered immediately, but instead of sitting down to where Tony had been she walked behind you, crouching down enough to reach your forehead with her lips. You tilted your head back, accepting her greeting, a small smile appearing on your face. Natasha brushed her fingers down your hairline as if swiping aside some of your baby hairs that had escaped from one of your favorite hairdos. She held your face between her hands, smiling down at you, the adoring look never leaving her eyes.

“Ya tebya ljublju, dushenka (I love you, sweetheart)”, she hummed, bringing the tip of her forefinger to your nose to smooth it down the bridge of it a couple of times before tapping your nose like a button.

“Tebya ljublju tozhe (I love you too)”, you replied immediately, a sense of excitement in your tone whether it was from her or the tea party. She reached down again to place another kiss on your forehead, your smile widening even further. “We’re both upside down”, you mused, clearly finding the idea funny.

“Yeah, we are”, Natasha nodded fondly before letting go of you and taking a seat at the end of the table.

“Me and Wanda made chocolate muffins!” You announced proudly, offering the small platter of muffins to Natasha whose smile only brightened at the sight of something to eat. She grabbed one of the decadent pastries, Wanda’s eyes flicking down to her knuckles and then right back up to her face. Natasha noticed the small, worried frown that crossed Wanda’s features. “Mom, what happened to your hand?” Natasha’s gaze turned to you as she placed the muffin on Tony’s plate.

“Oh, it’s just from training. Don’t worry about it”, she hummed casually, her eyes looking for the teapot, but before she could reach for it you grabbed her hand. It took everything in her not to wince at your touch, the tenderness of her knuckles making her hands stiff from the ache. You studied the reddened skin that was slowly turning darker, a deep frown falling on your features, but you were still young and naive enough to believe her so you didn’t question her explanation. Wanda on the other hand knew for a fact that everything wasn’t okay by the looks of those bruised knuckles.

“Does it hurt?” You asked in mild concern.

“Not at all, honey, but you’re very sweet for asking”, she assured you gently as you grabbed her hand, bringing it up to your lips. You blew some air on her knuckles, placing a tiny kiss on the back of her hand where the skin was completely healthy.

“It should heal soon”, you said knowingly, mimicking what Natasha usually did with whatever small wounds you managed to get while playing.

“Thank you, myshka (little mouse). It already feels so much better”, she assured you, a small pout of adoration on her lips as she withdrew her hand. Your worry dissipated in an instant as you submerged yourself back into your tea party.

“Would you like tea?” You suggested hopefully, grabbing the round porcelain pot that was decorated with beautiful, delicate flowers. “It’s lavender tea.”

“Oh, yes please, madam”, Natasha replied, offering you the unused mug that Tony had left behind, adopting the role of a tea party guest to please you even further. Your smile seemed to widen as you poured her a large mugful of tea, filling it to the very brim for her.

“Would you pour me some as well?” Wanda offered her mug to you, asking for a refill. You complied happily, finally grabbing yourself another muffin to eat while you talked.

“Anything new going on with you guys?” You asked conversationally, your attempt at a proper speech style raising up the corners of Natasha’s mouth. You were painfully adorable.

“Hmm, let me think”, Wanda hummed softly, bringing the cup of tea to her lips.

“I passed my math exam”, you stated, licking chocolate crumbs off your lips.

“You did? That’s amazing!” Natasha praised enthusiastically, although it came to her as no surprise because you had practiced for it quite thoroughly the night before.

“Uh-huh, I got a B”, you said brightly, digging something out of the basket that sat beside you, handing Natasha the slip of paper that was your exam.

“Was it difficult?” Wanda asked in curiosity, earning a firm shake of your head.

“No, it was really easy”, you replied, but as Natasha’s eyes skimmed over the scribbles on the paper she could tell that some of them had been less than easy, but you had managed just fine.

“What a smart, little girl you are”, Natasha mused with a wide smile on her face, handing the exam to Wanda.

“Big girl!” You corrected her, Natasha’s face softening. Oh, how she wished you could stay little for just a bit longer.

“My apologies, big girl it is”, she huffed in amusem*nt, watching how you grinned back at her.

“Look at that, you got so many of them correct”, Wanda marveled, pretending to be quite invested in the fourth grade math problems. “You should be proud of yourself, sweet pea”, she praised, handing the exam back to you.

“Thank you!“

“You should also be proud of these muffins. Good god, what did you put in them?” Natasha asked in shock, mouth full of muffin. It made you giggle, your cheeks heating up gently from all the compliments you were receiving.

“Chocolate, sugar, and butter”, you listed the ingredients you could remember off the top of your head.

“She got the measurements wrong. They have double the sugar”, Wanda explained with an endearingly soft tone, unable to keep the smile off her face as you laughed at your small mishap.

“Well, now they taste even better”, Natasha assured, taking another huge bite of the decadent treat.

“I thought I’d just spice it up a bit”, you chuckled, clearly proud of yourself for the happy, little mistake you had made, beaming at Natasha in the hopes of receiving more praise.

“Mmh, we have to save a few of these for the evening. Have you considered becoming a baker when you grow up?” She asked encouragingly, your smile widening if I was even possible.

“I don’t know, I thought ice cream taster would be cooler”, you reasoned in all seriousness, Natasha’s glancing at Wanda. “Did you know it’s a real job?” You asked enthusiastically, sharing the new bit of knowledge you had acquired that day.

“I think I have heard of that, yes”, she nodded, Wanda chuckling softly.

“We are going to send an application tomorrow”, she informed, Natasha’s face seeming to brighten at the amusing plans you had made.

“Fingers crossed you get the position”, Natasha hummed around another bite of the muffin, some ruckus from the kitchen alerting you of someone’s presence.

“Hey, Nat! The new mission intel just arrived”, Clint’s voice announced as he headed straight for someone’s leftovers in the fridge. He was very obviously about to hit the gym if his clothes were anything to go by. “I’d like to go over it with you.” Your face fell at his words, your eyes moving to Natasha’s hands that she was wiping into a napkin. She was soon going to leave for a mission again. You glanced at the basket you had brought with you, turning to dig through it, your hand groping for something.

“Don’t worry mom, I’ll take care of it”, you huffed in annoyance, pulling out what looked like the hilt of a sword. You stood up, pressing a button on the side, igniting the toy lightsaber. Natasha merely let out a chuckle as she watched you attack Clint with the plastic sword that let out all kinds of noises and flashes of light to match your moves.

“Ow! Hey! Woah”, Clint groaned, using a pizza box to counter your attacks with.

“You’re not taking my mommy anywhere!” You exclaimed, swatting him with the sword again.

“Sweetheart, leave the poor man alone”, Natasha chuckled, standing up to come into the kitchen with you.

“No! We’re having teatime!” You grumbled, attempting to stab him with the plastic.

“Baby”, Natasha huffed, pulling you away from Clint who was only pretending to struggle under your attack. “He’s not taking me anywhere”, she assured you, turning you around to face her.

“I wanna have tea with you. No work stuff or adult stuff that I don’t understand”, you pleaded quietly, frowning up at her.

“Honey, I’m just checking out the documents”, she said softly, squeezing your shoulder. Oh.

“Will you come right back?” You asked carefully, Natasha frowning at the doubt on your face.

“Yes, kroshka (little one). I’m just exchanging a quick word with him. I’ll be right back to eat all those delicious muffins you made.” She brushed her hand down your cheek soothingly, feeling a sense of concern in the back of her mind for your intense reaction to her work.

“Okay.” You nodded firmly and turned off your sword, leaving the kitchen. “Don’t forget to hurry up!” You exclaimed as you sat yourself down next to Wanda, leaving her in the kitchen with Clint.

“Do you want to guess what I’m thinking?” You suggested suddenly, already thinking of the wildest things that you possibly could.

“Sure, why not”, Wanda hummed, setting down her tea mug, welcoming you into her embrace when you lifted her arm out of the way so you could lean into her side. She could tell you were upset. She could have sensed the shift in your energy from miles away.

“You’re never gonna guess this one”, you said in determination, although you both knew there was no guessing for Wanda. She would see whatever you were thinking in your mind as clear as day, but at that point it was just more of an inside joke and the fun of the game relied on how well you managed to surprise or confuse Wanda with your imaginative concepts.

“Do your worst”, she chuckled, squeezing you tighter against her to offer you more comfort. She entered your mind a bit tentatively due to the anxious haze that was surrounding it, always making sure to include a little bit of dramatic hand movements to make it more fun for you. She saw what you were trying to think of but you were fighting tooth and nail to keep your focus on the lava monster with a burning party hat on. A small smile made the corner of her mouth quirk up at the image, but it was soon wiped away by a wave of your anxiety.

“Guess”, you said hastily, glancing at your mother in the kitchen as if making sure she was still there.

“Hmm, I’m getting something with lava”, she mused, brushing her hand over your hair. It made you smile, although the gesture lacked enthusiasm. “There’s a party hat”, she stated, your nod confirming her words. “Is it on fire?” She asked in shock, playing it up for you.

“Yes”, you chuckled, crawling closer to her, finding yourself on her lap as you cuddled close to her, the mind game losing your attention rather fast.

“Wanda?” You asked quietly, your ear pressed against the top of her chest as she leaned back against the couch to make you more comfortable.

“Yes, honey?”

“Will you do that thing that makes me calm?” Your tone was hopeful, a soft frown appearing on Wanda’s features.

“You want me to tell you a story?” She asked knowingly, wanting to confirm what you were requesting. She sometimes told you stories telepathically, showing you colorful imagery as her voice told you a fairytale of some sorts inside your head.

“Yes, something fun”, you mumbled, followed by a heavy sigh. You breathed in Wanda’s perfume, pleased to feel her warmth against you as she wrapped her arms loosely around you, a colorful garden appearing in your mind, accompanied by birds chirping and a gentle gust of wind that you swore you could feel on your skin. Wanda could hear the thoughts that raced through your head and she could feel the worry that you felt for your mother, having to fight her instincts so that her focus wouldn’t stray from the story she was creating, but she did note that you felt very protective over Natasha when it came to her work life and she could understand very well why that was. Despite your mind being an open book for her to read as she pleased, she did her best to ignore anything that was unrelated to the garden and its gorgeous flowers, focusing on emitting waves of calm energy that would hopefully soothe you. It didn’t take more than roughly ten minutes for Natasha to come back and by that time Wanda had calmed down the spike of anxiety you had felt for Clint’s request. She frowned down at you and Wanda, a questioning look on her face at the sudden lack of excitement on your part.

“What happened to teatime?” She asked in confusion. “Are we napping?”

“No, we’re cuddling”, you replied, turning your head around to see her as she lowered herself down onto the floor.

“Cuddling? Can I join you?” She asked softly, sensing the mood change that had taken place.

“Yes”, you nodded, a smile appearing on your face when she placed her hand on your back to pet you. “What did Clint say?”

“They don’t need me on the mission. I’m staying home”, she hummed, watching your smile brighten into a happy, little grin. In reality they could have used her, but because they were planning on leaving that night Natasha had chosen to stay home with you to have the tea party she had promised to attend. She wanted to spend the Saturday with you, not only because she had promised to have a tea party and a movie night with you, but also because she genuinely did not want to cancel the plans. “Honey, I would never cancel our plans, you know that right?” You nodded your head. You did know that, but it wasn’t too far-fetched to assume that an emergency mission could ruin your plans for the day. She leaned closer to you, pressing a kiss on your forehead before reaching for her cup of tea.

“Your tea is gonna get cold”, Natasha reminded you, taking a sip of the lukewarm beverage. That seemed to bring back your initial excitement and you jumped up from Wanda’s lap to go find your own cup of tea before it had the chance to run cold. You also grabbed yourself yet another muffin just to test if they were as good as the previous two had been. Before you sat down to eat you rounded the table to get to Natasha, sinking into her arms in the biggest hug you could possibly give her. She let out a soft chuckle of surprise when your arms wrapped around her neck, her own copying the gesture around your waist. You didn’t say anything, simply pulled away and went back to your place on the other side of the table, but to Natasha it was an obvious thank you for staying.

The movie night that you had planned for the evening was as well thought-out as possible. You gathered all your favorite blankets and pillows on the couch after dinner time to make the living room as comfortable as possible. You had already chosen a movie beforehand based on what you and Natasha wanted to watch, choosing a blockbuster family movie that you had missed in theaters and it had finally been released on a streaming platform. Anyone who felt like joining you was welcome to use the blankets you had arranged and eat the snacks that you, Natasha, and Wanda had prepared, but it seemed like most of them were off on that mission Clint and Natasha had discussed. You were already munching on the still warm popcorn, patiently waiting in the corner of the couch for Natasha to press play and join you and Wanda who snuck a handful of popcorn from the bowl without you noticing.

“You ready?” Natasha asked expectantly, pointing the remote at the screen.

“Yup!” You exclaimed, shoveling more popcorn into your mouth.

“Alright, here we go”, she hummed, plopping down onto the couch and pressing play. She remained seated on the middle cushions, your brows drawing into a displeased frown.

“Mom, you have to come closer. I want a cuddle sandwich”, you whined, reaching to the side to tug on her arm.

“A cuddle sandwich?” She asked in feigned astonishment, her tone playfully teasing as she scooched closer, pulling the bowl of popcorn off your lap to save it from tipping over. You giggled, leaning into her side once she was close enough, your other hand trying to pull Wanda closer to you as well. Natasha’s fingers found your side, tickling you suddenly to make you laugh and squirm, peals of genuine laughter falling from your lips.

“Mom!” You screeched, not even trying to escape her hands. You nuzzled your face against her, laughing into her sweater until she eased her fingers off you, hugging you tightly, listening to your giggles start to die down.

“Come on, you’re gonna miss the whole movie”, she warned you teasingly. You pulled your face away from her, turning around enough to see the screen. “Better not forget about that cuddle sandwich”, she mumbled, before kissing the top of your head, her free hand reaching for Wanda, tucking some of her hair behind her ear affectionately. Wanda let out a small huff of a laugh before coming close enough to be pressed up against you, her hand finding your arm to stroke absentmindedly as her eyes focused on the screen.

“Mommy, the popcorn”, you reminded her, pointing at the bowl that had been extracted from the danger zone of your flailing limbs. Natasha handed the glass bowl back to you, snatching a couple pieces for herself. Her left hand found your hair, brushing her fingers over it, gently playing with it as she leaned her cheek against the top of your head. She breathed you in, listening in on the conversation that was going on in the movie but her attention was far from the screen.

You felt warm between your mother and Wanda, warm enough to kick your blanket off so that you wouldn’t have to move away from your spot in their loving embrace. You swore the movie was much more entertaining with Natasha’s hand in your hair and Wanda’s arm around your waist. Your mother made sure you were snuggly tucked into her side as she placed gentle kisses in your hair and on your forehead every now and then as if to remind herself that you were right there beside her. Additionally it was a way for her to show the love that she felt so heavily in her chest for you. No kind of work could have ever come even close to replacing the joy that she felt for spending time with you. There was nothing more important in the world for her and she knew that you felt the same way because once the movie was over you remained cuddled up between them, beyond excited to discuss the movie with both of them. And when Wanda eventually had to leave you didn’t even consider that you could have moved away from her. You simply adjusted your position, accommodating to the lack of support behind you, Natasha pulling you tighter against her chest, never taking a single second of your time for granted, fearing that there would be a day when you no longer wanted her cuddles.

It was easy to be like that in the silence of the living room, the TV turned off and the lights dimmed down as you talked, Natasha answering any questions that you might have had concerning the silly animated characters or the plot. She smelled your hair, her hands smoothing up and down your back, her eyelids fluttering shut. She could tell that you were getting sleepy, your voice fading into low mumbling, but your excitement over the movie you had watched spurred you on and kept you talking, Natasha responding mostly with quiet hums, grunts, and chuckles.

“Mommy, it was a question”, you giggled, turning your face into her chest to muffle your laugh. You pulled away, climbing onto her lap to see her face better. “You’re getting sleepy”, you accused in amusem*nt, finding the fact funny for whatever reason. Natasha tore her eyes open, forcing herself to become more alert so she wouldn’t indeed fall asleep.

“Huh? What? I’m not sleepy”, she protested, making you laugh even harder.

“Yes, you are!” You giggled. “You look like this”, you stated, closing your eyes and parting your lips to copy the look that she had had on her face. It made Natasha let out a genuine laugh, hearing your voice join in.

“I did not”, she countered playfully, poking your side a bit to make you screech. You tried to escape her touch, tipping over to the side, slumping down onto the cushions. Natasha leaned closer to you, her hand looming over your ribs, ready to tickle you again. You grabbed her hand, already giggling uncontrollably because you knew she was going to tickle the living daylights out of you and there was nothing better in the world. All you could hear was your loud guffaws when her fingers finally found your sides, your small body squirming from the intense tickling sensation. When she finally offered you some relief and a chance to catch your breath, she leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead, peppering tiny, little pecks all over your face before gathering you into her arms to hoist you off the couch. “It’s sleepy time for you, young lady”, she hummed, receiving more peals of laughter from you as she dangled you in her arms, purposely holding you a bit poorly to make it more fun for you.

“You just wanna sleep”, you chuckled, gripping onto her shoulder so you wouldn’t slide off her body.

“Mommy’s had a long day”, she protested. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No!” You exclaimed, starting to laugh again, the sounds you were making becoming more and more unhinged by the minute.

“I think you had one too many cupcakes”, Natasha huffed, pretending that her arm was giving in as she walked down the hall, heading for the elevator. You screamed, doing your best to climb up her body to avoid falling down, reaching your arm to the side to push the correct elevator button for your floor.

“No, I should have had more, but Tony came over and ate like five”, you lamented, but you didn’t get to feel upset by the fact, Natasha’s hand tickling you again, your laughter lasting all the way to the outside of the apartment.

“Maybe it’s a good thing or you would be hurling your guts into the toilet by now”, she teased.

“Noo!” You chuckled, finally managing to bring yourself into a vertical position, your arms locking around her neck, legs finding her waist as Natasha opened the door to your home. “I could eat like a thousand-million-trillion muffins”, you announced, the front door sliding shut behind you.

Chapter 30: Just the way you are

Chapter Text

You had just come home from school and you were sitting on your bed, your shirt pulled up as you studied your bare stomach. You poked and prodded it with your fingers, not really sure how to feel about the soft layer of tissue you felt on your body. Lately you weren’t sure how to feel about anything going on with your body. There were a couple mild changes like your height and a bit of added weight, but nothing out of the ordinary. You were a healthy nine-year-old, or so you had thought, but the more you listened to the girls in your class you were starting to feel like maybe you weren’t what you thought you were, at least not according to your classmates. You heard a knock at the door, your head shooting up at the sound, a jolt of surprise going through you.

“Yes?” You asked quietly, pulling your shirt down swiftly, feeling a bit embarrassed for what you were doing.

“Hi, baby, can I come in?”

“Yeah”, you replied, loud enough for her to hear, the door creaking open and Natasha sneaking inside with a soft smile on her face. You watched as she walked to your side, sitting down on the bed as well. She could tell you were feeling down, your quietness and lack of smiles enough to raise her concerns.

“Is everything okay? You didn’t eat your snack”, she questioned softly, co*cking her head at you encouragingly, hoping you would feel safe enough to express your thoughts to her.

“Thinking.”

“About?”

“These girls in my class”, you started slowly, Natasha’s chest constricting as she thought of the biggest fear she had had since you had started school. She knew you could hold off your own when it came to bullies, but kids could be ruthless, and Natasha knew that. She had grown up among ruthless girls. She had been a ruthless girl, although she had been a different kind of ruthless than what you would hopefully ever encounter in a classroom. “They were talking about their bodies”, you explained, trying to figure out a way to put it. You looked up at Natasha with a soft frown. “Do you think I should lose weight?” You asked timidly, Natasha’s stomach dropping at your words.

“Oh, no, honey. Absolutely not”, she said immediately, making sure you were looking her in the eyes. Her response was automatic and held no hesitation behind it, conveying just how ridiculous she thought the statement was. “You’re perfect, baby”, she said with a knowing smile, her hand cupping your jaw briefly. “You’re so beautiful and I don’t want you to change anything about yourself.”

“But what if I’m not?” You mumbled, trying to hold in your tears. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about it, but you had noticed it take up more space in your mind the more the girls in your class talked about skinny, blonde supermodels. Natasha opened her arms, gently, prompting for you to come sit on her lap, a small smile flashing across your features as you accepted her invite with great relief.

“You are. And no one can change that”, Natasha said, holding you close to her chest as she petted your hair.

“But the girls… They said we need to have a flat stomach and bigger boobs. I don’t know if mine is flat enough”, you whimpered, your face pressing into Natasha’s neck.

“Look at me, Y/N”, she said sternly, causing you to pull away to meet her green eyes. “You’re nothing but a baby. Boobs are not something you need to worry about yet and being skinny does not make you any more valuable than if you were heavier. We’re all worth the same, no matter what our bodies look like. Besides, you’re just the right size for mama to hold, flat stomach or not”, she noted, hugging you tighter as you chuckled. She pulled back a bit, smiling at you warmly, before she looked down to her lap and pulled up her shirt to open the button of her jeans, revealing the gentle bump of her belly. “My stomach isn’t flat. I’ve got a little belly and that’s completely okay. Every belly is just the perfect size”, she explained as you put your hand on her lower stomach, caressing the warm skin. “Do you think that makes me uglier?” Natasha asked, immediately earning a firm shake of your head.

“You’re the most beautiful person in the world”, you said firmly, Natasha’s smile widening.

“No, you are the most beautiful person in the world”, Natasha said, tapping your nose, making you giggle. She leaned close, pressing her lips to your forehead. “Mama’s little baby”, she mumbled, hugging you tightly, closing her eyes as she swayed you a bit. “The most perfect little princess”, she hummed, feeling you sigh and sink into her embrace.

“I’m not that little”, you protested in a slight giggle.

“To mommy you are”, she mumbled, kissing the side of your head. “Can I ask you something?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is this why you didn’t finish your snack?” She asked, her tone turning more serious, causing you to drop your head down in shame. You could tell from her voice that you weren’t supposed to do something like that.

“Yeah. Lucy said white bread makes you fat”, you explained, keeping your eyes down. You felt bad about not finishing the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that Natasha had made for you, especially when it was one of your favorite after-school snacks.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. None of you do. You’re children and you’re not even supposed to know about this stuff. No food makes you fat, okay?”

“Okay”, you nodded firmly, listening intently to her advice.

“As long as you eat a healthy, balanced diet you’ve got nothing to worry about. You just make sure you eat your fruits and veggies, and get enough nutritious food into your belly”, she continued, tickling your abdomen softly. “And you can’t forget about those sweets and treats. They’re all very important for your well-being. Besides, it’s my job to make sure you’re eating the right things. You don’t have to worry your pretty, little head about it. Eat what makes you happy”, she instructed, smiling down at you. “You’re a highly active, growing child. You need fuel in your body so your bones can grow and your muscles can become stronger. You wanna train like mommy, right?” You nodded your head eagerly. You really wanted to be strong like her, a deep sense of admiration shining in your eyes whenever you watched her train with the rest of the team. There was something about being a strong woman, or in your case, a girl, that you felt a pull toward.

“You can’t be like that if you don’t eat enough.” As if on cue your stomach grumbled, Natasha giving you a slight arch of her brow, her hands brushing down your arms. “Alright, let’s go finish that pb&j. I’ve gotta get dinner started”, she hummed, sliding you off her lap, a bright smile overtaking your features. You hurried to the door, Natasha in your footsteps, buttoning up her jeans.

“What are we having for dinner?” You asked in excitement, a soft smile spreading onto Natasha’s lips as she walked past you, her hand brushing down your back to guide you toward the kitchen.

“I was planning on making teriyaki chicken with rice and veggies”, she replied, going to the cabinets to find pots and pans she would need to make the dish. “And Y/N?”

“What?” You climbed onto the stool behind the kitchen island, grabbing the peanut butter sandwich off the plate where you had left it, taking a big bite out of the bread that you had previously only nibbled.

“I want you to stop hanging out with Lucy and her friends. Or at the very least stop participating in their conversations about appearances.” She turned to look at you, making sure she was getting through to you.

“Why?”

“Because the kind of things they’re saying are only gonna cause you trouble. I will bring it up with the teachers to make sure Lucy is doing alright at home, but for now I want you to focus on yourself. Don’t listen to what they say about bodies or weight, or whatever. You are exactly the way you’re supposed to be”, she emphasized, finding it crucial that you believed her word. You were not going to grow up insecure if Natasha had any say in it. She wanted you to be confident and know your worth because you were definitely going to need it in the future when living in a world so cruel.

“Got it”, you mumbled around a bite of your sandwich, Natasha giving you a chastising look.

“Don’t chew with your mouth open”, she reminded you gently as you looked around the kitchen for the glass that you had used when you had come home from school. Natasha picked it up from the counter by the sink, placing it in front of you. “Juice or milk?” She saw the moment you put your famous puppy eyes on display, an amused smirk finding its way on her lips.

“Can I have chocolate milk?” You asked pleadingly, Natasha letting out a small chuckle. Your house was very open with sweets and fast food, but Natasha still had to occasionally limit certain foods to avoid over consumption on your part because had you been given the chance you wouldn’t have drunk anything but chocolate milk. However, Natasha still did her best not to lift any specific foods onto a pedestal and wanted you to have access to almost anything at all times because it worked for her the best, and it seemed to have worked very well for you as well. You rarely craved for large amounts of sweets or baked goods and were often satiated by small amounts of whatever you might have been craving.

“Do you want it cold or warm?”

“Cold”, you replied, taking another bite of the second triangle of your sandwich, slightly bummed out that it was disappearing so fast. You felt like you were starving and Natasha had barely gotten the produce out of the fridge. She poured you a glass, taking a long sip of the beverage before handing it to you.

“Can I help you with the cooking?” You asked before taking a gulp from the tall glass of chocolate milk.

“You wanna help?” Her smile brightened just a little, hopeful eyes turning to you. She loved it when you wanted to participate in daily chores, feeling like she had done right by you when it came to teaching you responsibilities and basic house skills. Sometimes she even made you cook with her just to have you learn how to make food for yourself, but it was always ten times more fun when you volunteered to take part in cooking. Natasha had never been the best cook in the world and she had really had to work on it during your toddler years because she didn’t want you to grow up with microwave meals and takeout. Through her own little cooking journey she had found joy in making food from scratch and wished to share and pass that joy down to you.

“Yeah”, you chirped, wiping your milk mustache into the sleeve of your shirt.

“Go get cleaned up and I’ll show you how to wash the veggies.” You did as told, tidying up the kitchen island from your dishes before washing your hands with soap, Natasha bringing the vegetables to the sink where you could wash and peel them for the side dish.

“Hold it like this”, Natasha instructed, adjusting the peeler in your hand, your other hand holding onto a long carrot. “Never peel toward your hand, always use an outward motion. And watch your fingers”, she reminded you, even though you had peeled carrots before, but sometimes you tended to forget about the instructions she had previously given you. She made sure you got the hang of it before moving on to cut up the chicken pieces and boil water for the rice.

“Look how perfectly straight this carrot is”, you noted, showing the vegetable to Natasha with a bright smile on your face. “It’s almost like a cartoon carrot”, you giggled. “Those that Bugs Bunny eats!”

“Look at that”, she mused, shaking her head slightly as if in disbelief. You giggled again, continuing to peel the carrots.

“Can I cut these up?” You asked but your face suddenly contorted into a displeased frown when you saw Natasha unwrap a head of broccoli. “Mommm”, you whined desperately. “I don’t want broccoli.”

“But you’re gonna have it”, she chuckled, bringing it to the sink to rinse off any dirt it might have had on it.

“Why?” You groaned in annoyance, absentmindedly banging one of the carrots against the edge of the sink.

“Honey, don’t abuse the carrots. Because it’s got loads of vitamins and health benefits to help you grow big and strong”, she said, pinching your cheek a bit teasingly. You scrunched your nose at her, annoyed by the gesture. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll only have to taste a little bit. You can have the carrots and peppers.”

“But I already know what it tastes like”, you reasoned, frowning up at her.

“Yes, I know, but I want you to give it another chance. You don’t have to like it but you’ll have to try it”, she countered. “Wash the peppers for me, dorogaya (darling).” You grabbed the large red bell pepper, bringing it under the faucet, the water pressure a bit too high, a big squirt of water landing on your shirt and over the back wall. You squinted your eyes, Natasha moving swiftly to adjust the faucet, omitting her chuckle at the small accident.

“Oops.”

“It’s alright, sweetie. Here, let me wipe your face dry”, she offered, bringing the kitchen towel to your face to dry the worst of it. “Make sure you scrub the peppers clean. We don’t want to eat any dirt”, she reminded you.

Once you had all your produce washed and dried, Natasha brought you behind the cutting board, handing you a large knife. You had cut fruit before because it was softer and easier to handle than root vegetables, but Natasha thought you were starting to be old enough to participate with other foods as well. She stepped behind you, both her hands covering your own to guide you in the cutting process. She placed one of the carrots horizontally onto the wooden cutting board, bringing the hand that was holding the knife to the end.

“Now we have to be extra careful, okay? Hold the carrot still with this hand, just like with fruit, but you’re gonna need much more pressure on that knife.” She cut a thin slice off the end to get rid of the stump, your small hand beneath hers, automatically following the movement of her hand. “Keep the tip of the knife down against the board. Just like this”, she continued, cutting another slice as a demonstration. “Think you got it?” You nodded your head, carefully lifting the knife up, Natasha’s hand freeing yours. You made sure that the tip remained against the wood, slowly pressing the handle down. Your mother was right, it did require more pressure to cut through the hard vegetable but you thought you did okay, repeating the action to cut out unevenly thick slices.

“Good job!” Natasha praised you immediately, kissing the top of your head. “I think you’ve got it”, she hummed in amazement over your skills. “Leave the ends for me to cut if it feels too difficult with shorter pieces. I’ll cut up the broccoli while you do that.”

“Are these good?” You asked, seeking for validation as you showed her the slices of varying sizes.

“Yes, they’re very good. Try to keep the thickness consistent”, she instructed gently, grabbing another large knife to slice through the broccoli, before pouring washed rice into the boiling water, adding a bit of salt to go with it.

Cooking with you took a lot longer than if Natasha had whipped up the meal alone, but no amount of hunger was enough to make her give up the experience of teaching you how to feed yourself. She valued the time spent with you more than anything, proud of herself for raising a child who was pleasant to be around and whose company she genuinely enjoyed. She found so much joy in showing you how things were done, especially when she could clearly see how eager you were to learn the magic behind your favorite foods.

“Do you want to make the sauce? I’ve got all the ingredients lined up on the counter”, she suggested, moving the chicken pieces into an oiled pan, a loud sizzle filling the kitchen. You nodded immediately, moving to the countertop where a small glass bowl sat with different measuring tools and ingredients. “Take the soy sauce.”

“Is it this one?” You asked for confirmation, showing her the large bottle of dark liquid. Natasha nodded, her hand continuing to stir the chicken in the pan. “How much of it?”

“Third of a cup”, she replied, having spread the cups onto the counter just so you could figure it all out by yourself.

“This is a full cup, right? So this is half of that.” You sounded very unsure as you compared the different sized measures, trying to see which one of them was third of a cup. “Is it this?” You showed Natasha the smallest of the measures, receiving a small shake of her head.

“Check the handle. What does it say?”

“One slash four.”

“That would be a fourth of a cup.” She informed you, lowering the heat on the chicken and coming closer to you.

“So then it’s this one”, you announced, showing the correct measuring cup to her. She smiled brightly.

“I can hold it still while you pour”, she offered, grasping the cup from you as you grabbed the large bottle of soy sauce, opening the cork. You did a very good job with getting accurate amounts of each ingredient into the bowl, finally whisking the sauce up with a mini whisk that you absolutely adored because of how small it was. Next you got to pour the mixture over the chicken, a sharp scent of hot soy invading your nose. You had a lot of fun in the kitchen but by the time the food was on the table you were exhausted.

“Why does it have to take so long when I’ll finish my plate in ten minutes?” You moaned, Natasha spooning some chicken onto your plate before sliding it in front of you.

“I ask myself that every day”, she chuckled, her hand moving to grab her own plate to load it up with all the food you had made.

“Wouldn’t it be cool to have a personal chef”, you mused, stabbing a tenderly cooked carrot into your fork. Natasha gave you a look.

“You already have one”, she retorted, sounding mildly unimpressed.

“Yeah, but so that you wouldn’t have to cook”, you specified.

“It would be so cool”, Natasha agreed, blowing gently onto the steaming piece of carrot before sliding the fork into her mouth. “I should make you my personal chef”, she teased, spearing more of the carrots onto her fork. “These honey carrots are amazing”, she praised genuinely, loving the shy, little smile on your face whenever you got compliments for your work. She would never get tired of seeing that look on your face.

“But then you would only have to eat carrots cause I don’t know how to cook anything else”,
you laughed. You knew you could complete various steps of different tasks in the kitchen but had you been expected to make an entire meal by yourself you would have been lost.

“These are so good I could eat them for every meal”, Natasha assured, smiling at you softly. “What would you say if we started cooking more? I could show you how to make easier things like oatmeal or eggs.”

“That sounds like fun”, you nodded immediately, scooping a big clump of chicken and rice into your mouth. “As long as we make yummy food like this”, you hummed. “Except for the broccoli”, you added in a quiet huff that spread a smile on Natasha’s face.

“Just let me know what foods you want to cook and we’ll make them together”, she replied, moving the glass of water in her hand to her lips.

“Will do. Has Wanda replied to you yet?” You inquired suddenly, Natasha frowning slightly, her eyes moving to the phone that sat at the other end of the table, tapping the screen to see her notifications.

“Yeah, she wants to go for coffee”, she hummed, going back to eating.

“Can I come? I can come, right?” You inquired hastily, clearly very excited to go into the city for the evening, pleased to also spend time with Wanda who had been rather busy lately.

“Yes, of course. I don’t think she’ll mind”, Natasha mused, a playful smirk on her lips. Everyone and their cousin knew how much Wanda loved you.

“Where are we gonna g-“ The sharp sound of the door bell interrupted your words, your eyes widening in surprise, Natasha offering you a knowing smile. You rushed out of the kitchen to open the door, immediately met with Wanda’s gentle smile. “Hi!”

“Hey, princess”, she chuckled, lifting you right into her arms, not caring in the slightest that you were getting too old for it. You let out a joyous laugh as you hugged her tightly, Wanda kicking the door shut behind her, taking a couple of steps toward the kitchen before allowing you to slide back down.

“Hi, Wanda!” Natasha hollered from the kitchen where she was still eating, unbothered by her friend’s arrival when she saw her almost daily. “Baby, come finish your food!” She added in a tone that was clearly aimed at you.

You bounced back into the kitchen, inhaled your food and then complained about how slow Natasha was being while she was too busy offering Wanda a dinner as well, to your utter demise. It wasn’t that you didn’t want her to taste your cooking but you just really wanted to leave already and Wanda having dinner with you was going to delay that. Thankfully, she had already had dinner at home and you managed to get out the door before you completely lost your patience.

Chapter 31: Magic Kingdom

Chapter Text

You woke up at six o’clock sharp as if struck by lightning, sitting up in the large twin bed you had crawled into the night before, a bit of sunlight peeking from behind the curtains. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, getting accustomed to the furnishing of the Polynesian themed hotel room, although the room decor wasn’t enough to hold your attention for much longer, your focus shifting onto Natasha who slept beside you, curled up into a tight ball, her hair a mess and face tucked into the white duvet.

“Mommy”, you hissed, poking her arm, letting go of Bun-Bun that you had taken with you to Florida. “Mom”, you tried again, shaking her even harder, Natasha refusing to wake up so unbearably early, burying herself deeper into the sheets to hide from you and the sunlight. “Guess what day it is today?” You asked in excitement even though you didn’t have to ask at all. Natasha knew very well what day it was, in fact she could never forget the date even if she would have tried to.

“Hmm, what?” She groaned quietly, making no effort to open her eyes.

“Guess!”

“Independence Day”, she offered, hearing a giggle from you.

“No, mom, guess again!” Wow, your volume really would’ve needed some adjusting.

“I don’t know. What is it?” She asked groggily, albeit there was a hint of tease.

“Someone’s birthday”, you whispered theatrically as if giving her a hint.

“Birthday? I don’t remember anything about a birthday”, she frowned, squinting her aching eyes open. It was a shame that you were up so early even after the flight and all the traveling you had done, although it had been far more relaxing on Tony’s jet than on any commercial plane she could have chosen instead.

“Mom”, you whined desperately.

“Wait, there was something special today…” She mused as if trying to remember what it was, your vibrating form sitting tightly beside her, patiently waiting for her to say it. “My baby is turning nine years old”, Natasha stated confidently.

“No”, you whined again. “Mommy, I’m ten years old.”

“Ten? That can’t be. Look at you, so tiny. You’re still nothing but a baby”, she mumbled playfully, her eyes finally fully open, looking at your beautiful face. Ten years you had been in her life. Ten whole years since she had rescued you from the exploding building. Natasha already knew that she was going to cry about it late at night after you had been tucked away in bed.

“But I’m ten already. I’m a big girl”, you argued, a smile spreading on Natasha’s lips.

“Ten”, she huffed in a teasing tone, a yearning look in her eyes. You had long ago decided to celebrate your birthday on the date that Natasha had found you because your real birthday still remained unknown, but neither of you minded because that day felt far more significant than the day you had been born. “You’re practically an adult now”, she chuckled, her fingers attacking your middle to tickle you, a sharp shriek coming from you as you threw yourself into the sheets to escape her, but you only managed to wriggle yourself around as you laughed loudly. You crawled into her arms, allowing her to wrap you into her embrace where you stayed for a while, her soothing hands on your body easing some of the almost painful excitement you were feeling, the quiet moment allowing Natasha to properly wake up. It was around half past six in the morning when you could no longer take it, starting to get ready for the day, Natasha following in your footsteps after making sure via text message that the others were up to speed and getting ready for breakfast as well.

You had chosen your clothes the night before, settling on wearing an easily removable skirt instead of a fully equipped Princess Tiana dress because Natasha had insisted on practicality and comfortability for the long day you had ahead. She knew dresses could be dangerous and messy in a busy theme park which is why she had held her ground until you had finally relented. No outfit was complete without mandatory Minnie ears that you had bought upon your arrival to the resort. You had chosen the design you liked the most out of the dozen different pairs and had also forced Natasha to buy ones as well so you could match, not that it had required a lot of persuasion because secretly your mother was beyond excited to take part in all the activities possible. You had also convinced the rest of the adults to get Mickey ears as well, simply because in your opinion they were more than necessary.

Natasha got dressed into comfortable and casual clothes, unwilling to spend the day with a wedgie or a pair of pants that were too tight, but she still figured out a fashionable get up for herself before putting on light makeup and smothering her and your faces in sunscreen to protect you from the deceptive Floridian sun. When you were finally finished with getting ready, you got out the door and into the hallway, finding Tony and Morgan there, the latter being chased down the hall by her father. You smiled at the sight, crouching down to welcome Morgan into your arms as she sped toward you on the carpet-cushioned floor. She was in her toddler years, or what everyone else liked to call the terrible twos, but in your opinion she wasn’t much of a bother to anyone. Morgan was reserved and quiet for most of the time, but especially around her parents and family she could be rather bubbly and bright.

“Hi, Morgan!” You greeted her brightly, having adopted that gentle tone that all the adults used with babies, the light, airy talk rolling off your tongue naturally. You lifted her into your arms, Tony slowing down once he finally reached you, Pepper exiting the hotel room right as the door to the Barton room slid open, Nathaniel walking out.

“Sam and I are gonna go already. It’s better if we go in smaller groups so we won’t attract unnecessary attention”, Steve informed, but the amused smile on Sam’s face told you that they were starving and too impatient to wait. You turned around to see them, slightly startled to hear Steve’s voice from behind you, his eyes meeting yours, a wide smile spreading on his lips as he took a few steps closer to you. “Happy birthday, doll”, he hummed, his hands sliding under your arms to pick you up into a huge hug that made you giggle, your legs dangling in the air.

“Thanks”, you huffed, squeezing him tightly before he set you down, giving Sam an opportunity to congratulate you as well.

“We’ll see you at breakfast”, Steve reminded you, but you were too busy receiving birthday wishes from Clint’s kids and Tony and Pepper to register what he was saying. You got a big, wet kiss on your forehead from Tony, his beard pricking your skin, his affectionate manners followed by a bunch of teasing comments. Pepper stole you away from him and brought you into a tight hug as she whispered her congratulations in your ear, telling you how amazing and beautiful you were. Finally, you were crushed by both Laura and Clint in yet another hug, the kids opting to only use their words to congratulate you. The Barton family was next to head for breakfast since they were quite unrecognizable, you and Natasha waiting patiently for Yelena and Wanda to come out of their room. Thankfully it didn’t take them long, otherwise Natasha would have delivered them a smack in the face for breakfast.

You were led to a group of tables in a secluded corner of the dining hall, Sam and Steve already elbows deep in pineapple-coconut bread and fresh Pog juice that the restaurant served to the guests beforehand. You could already see Stitch walking around in the other end of the dining hall, your entire body filled with jitters as you tried to keep yourself calm. You all filled your bellies with the delicious breakfast food that was brought out to you on skillets, the meal consisting of typical breakfast foods like eggs, sausage and bacon, but naturally your absolute favorite were the Mickey Mouse pancakes that you doused in so much syrup that they eventually turned into a soggy mess that you ate regardless because it just tasted that good. Morgan too seemed to really like the pancakes, those and the fried potato the only things that didn’t fly off her plate. Natasha really enjoyed the selection of fruits, as well as the biscuits and the ham topped with pineapple compote, her food paired with refreshing mimosas that she and Wanda ordered despite the hour of the day. Steve and Sam definitely had at least three skillets of bacon just for themselves, Steve making sure he ate for everyone else as well, truly getting his money’s worth. It never failed to amaze you just how much food he was capable of consuming. You ate far too much in the All-You-Care-to-Enjoy breakfast selection but in your opinion a full belly was just the perfect way to start your adventure-filled day. You waved goodbye to the different characters that were lounging around with the guests, heading back into your hotel rooms to grab anything you might need for the theme park before leaving. You were only going to visit the Magic Kingdom that was close to the Polynesian resort you were staying at because everyone knew that there wasn’t enough time for the other parks, but Natasha was sure that it was more than enough for the time being.

The entrance to Magic Kingdom was gorgeous and it was almost impossible for you to process the beautiful castle that could already be seen as you walked down Main Street that was filled with people, colors, lights, and scents that tried to steal your attention every other moment. There was so much to look at that you struggled to look anywhere at all, your small body unequipped to handle so much excitement. Even Clint’s kids seemed to be impressed by the surroundings despite being too old to be considered kids, excluding Nathaniel who was just a couple years older than you. Lila and Cooper got along very well and often went off to the side to look at things or excluded themselves to go to different stores they had spotted because they were old enough to go anywhere they pleased. They were adults after all. The rest of you remained more or less as one big group, but it turned out to be difficult at times because everyone seemed to have their own interests that they tended to gravitate toward. It didn’t take long for Natasha to spot a place for drinks, Sam smirking at her knowingly, both of them sneaking to the side to get themselves something refreshing since it was already starting to get rather warm outside, Yelena joining their secret circle. Wanda snuck off to the side to find something sweet for herself to snack on, discovering far too many options, wanting to taste each of them which left her with the struggle of having to make a decision between the large variety of options. Natasha chose a pink, Mickey-shaped macaron for a snack that she didn’t need, and another large, fruity drink that would last her a while as you strolled around the park mostly looking at the views and visiting shops to get over the initial excitement that barely allowed you to function properly. Wanda eventually chose a large chocolate chip cookie and a couple cake pops to try out. Sam got a cold beer and Yelena found herself a non-alcoholic, overly sweet fizzy drink, the three of them staying slightly behind so they could enjoy their beverages in peace while the others looked after the kids. It was slightly too early for Natasha to be surrounded by children charged with that much energy, but that’s what Sam, Yelena, and the drinks were for, so that Natasha could evade the initial shouting and screaming, although she loved to see the way Lila and Cooper regressed into the same kids she had watched Clint raise.

After a good hour of walking you were finally calm enough to not sprint to every single thing you found interesting or beautiful and started to be more interested in the rides now that you could finally focus on such a thing. Despite the fact that you had other children to spend your time with you seemed to gravitate toward Natasha more often than not, diverging from the Bartons to come hold Natasha’s hand and show her anything you might have spotted in the park or to ask her to buy you something overpriced and ridiculously dumb.

“Mommy”, you whispered quietly, pulling her closer to you as you walked down the street toward Tomorrowland, Natasha’s arm wrapping around your shoulders, lips finding your forehead.

“What, baby?”

“This is the coolest present ever”, you admitted, smiling happily up at her, Natasha’s features softening.

“I’m glad to hear that”, she mused, offering you a bright smirk. You had no idea how amazing the day was going to be.

“Will you go on Space Mountain with me? Coop said it’s crazy fast!” You asked, glancing at the huge white building that had a futuristic design to it.

“You don’t even have to ask. Of course I will”, Natasha hummed, allowing you to pull her into the Fast Pass lane, leaving her drink with Clint who was currently her designated drink holder because he was too much of a wuss to go on rides, claiming that he would get nauseous if he went on too many in a row. Your birthday was thankfully in the middle of the week that year, your entire family grateful for the lack of people in the Fast Pass lanes. You navigated through the entrance into the darkness of the building that was illuminated by neon lights. You barely had any patience to look at the decorations inside, your main focus being the ride. You pulled Natasha after you, running to the small gates where you only had to wait one shuttle before it was your turn. You sat in front of Natasha on the very first seat, Cooper and Lila fighting over who got to sit in the last seat for a reason you couldn’t understand. Lila said it feels more fun in the last seat but you thought the first one was obviously the best, Yelena settling for the seat behind Natasha. She was simply just happy to be there with no specific interest in which seat she occupied.

“Give me your Minnie ears, myshka (little mouse), so they don’t fall off”, Natasha reminded you, removing her own so she could hold onto them while on the ride. “Are you nervous?” She asked quietly with a small smile on her face. You gave her a shy nod, unwilling to show the others that you were a little scared. “You’ll be alright. Just hold onto the safety bar. I’m right here behind you”, she hummed, squeezing your hand encouragingly before she sat down in her own wagon where she could no longer reach you from.

“This is going to be crazy!” Yelena exclaimed with her thick accent, her words making you laugh. Natasha glanced back at her little sister, pursing her lips slightly as she noted the gentle blush of excitement on Yelena’s round cheeks. That was truly a sight she had never even dared to dream of. The shuttle moved slowly forward, one of the workers testing the safety bars to make sure they were locked before the ride moved forward again. You glanced back at Natasha, a nervous, yet excited grin on your face.

You went through a small tunnel, the blue and white lights flashing in your face, accompanied by an odd sound. The train took a sudden turn to the right and started slowly climbing uphill, giving you a good opportunity to look at the space themed displays around you. Your stomach lurched violently once your surroundings turned dark with only occasional small lights and stars around you, the ride gaining sudden speed, throwing you around as it followed the tracks in the dark. You screamed so loud that Natasha could clearly hear you over all the other ruckus the ride was making, not sure if they were screams of joy or horror. It was possible that the darkness scared you, but Natasha was hoping you were able to find the fun in it. The ride seemed to go on into infinity, the bumpy road jostling you around more than you had expected, a bright red tunnel giving you a brief break from the ubiquitous darkness that was starting to scare you more than you wanted to admit, but thankfully you found light again soon after, a male voice announcing the shuttle’s arrival. Natasha heard the sigh that left from you, a pitying smile spreading on her lips. You poor thing.

The safety bars came up and you were freed from the ride, Cooper, Lila, Nathaniel, and Yelena laughing loudly as they climbed out, excited comments flying in the air as they all tried to talk at the same time. Natasha helped you out of the wagon, smiling softly as she placed your Minnie ears back on.

“I’m okay”, you announced, sounding slightly like you had peed your pants, the grip you had on Natasha’s hand telling her that your words might not have been as true as you wished them to be.

“That was pretty scary, wasn’t it?” She agreed, hoping to comfort you a little. You nodded, refusing to let go of her hand as you walked toward the exit.

“That was awesome!” Yelena groaned, walking past you with a huge grin on her face. It made you smile. You loved how she was so comfortable being childish and open like that. It made you forget that you were mostly surrounded by adults.

To lift your spirits up again Natasha found Mickey beignets to get you thoroughly excited again because how could you not be excited to taste those wonderfully delicious-looking beignets that Tiana made in Princess and the Frog. Wanda found herself yet another spot for baked goods, her hands seemingly never empty from a greasy and sugary treat. Every time Natasha saw her she had a different cake, churro, pie, or ice cream in her hand and was silently eating it as she observed her joy-filled surroundings. Natasha found it rather endearing, but she found it even more endearing whenever Wanda would offer her a bite or ask her or Steve to finish something she didn’t enjoy. It was ridiculously adorable how Wanda would rate each treat she got for herself, her style of enjoying the park rather reserved and peaceful, unlike you and Yelena’s.

Once charged up with sugar it was time to find more exhilarating rides for the day, your group breaking off into smaller groups according to everyone’s needs. The Barton kids were mostly in their own world, Laura and Clint utilizing their time by finding some of the more romantic spots, Tony and Pepper taking Morgan into the toddler-appropriate areas of the park while you stayed with Natasha, Wanda and Yelena who you forced into the rides with you, each taking turns. Steve and Sam disappeared into oblivion somehow at some point, probably going to look for things they found a bit more entertaining. You, Wanda, and Yelena were currently on the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train in Fantasyland, Natasha waiting patiently for your return beside a small food cart outside.

“Mommy! Look, it’s Natasha!” Natasha’s head whipped around to see where the sharp, little girl’s shout had come from, spotting a girl no more than five running toward her with an obvious plastic wig and a black bodysuit. She could do nothing but watch when the girl ran straight into her leg, hugging her tightly, Natasha feeling slightly confused.

“I am so sorry! Samara, get off the poor woman”, a young woman with two more kids commanded, hurrying up to her, looking thoroughly apologetic. “I’m so, so sorry. She’s obsessed with Black Widow. She’s been all over the place the whole day looking for her”, the woman explained, Natasha’s face softening.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. I can play along”, she assured her, gently prying the girl off her leg so she could crouch down before her.

“Oh, you don’t have to”, the woman countered immediately, clearly embarrassed by the interaction.

“It’s okay. I’ve got a little girl of my own”, Natasha explained, taking a look at Samara’s wild face that had a permanent grin plastered on it. She reminded Natasha of you, a fierce girl filled with light. She couldn’t help but to smile at her. “I love your costume. For a second I thought you were me”, she hummed playfully, Samara giggling shyly. “Look at those batons”, she marveled quietly, prompting her to turn around to show them to her.

“Wanna see how I beat up all the bad guys?” She inquired in excitement, pulling one of the weapons from her back with mild struggle because of the cheap material of the suit.

“Oh, absolutely”, Natasha nodded, pulling back to give Samara enough room to show her moves. She swung the baton like a sword, letting out a small grunt as she hit the air, aiming at an imaginary threat that was supposedly right in front of her. Natasha glanced at the mother, amused by the embarrassed look on her face before focusing back on Samara who was doing her very best to impress Natasha.

“Those were just a warm up”, she huffed.

“I can see that. You’re very skilled, agent. Good job”, Natasha praised with a small smile. Samara was very clearly a piece of work and Natasha could practically see how much havoc she wreaked at home and most likely at school as well.

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff”, Samara chirped, saluting Natasha. “Where are your weapons?”

“I’m undercover”, Natasha whispered secretively, bringing her forefinger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here.” She winked at her, Samara giggling out of excitement.

“Alright, baby girl, Miss Romanoff has a mission to complete”, her mother stepped in, slyly stealing the girl’s attention.

“Shh, mommy it’s a secret”, Samara hissed angrily, making Natasha hide her chuckle.

“Once again, I’m so sorry”, the woman apologized, Natasha shaking her head to assure the woman once again that it was no problem for her.

“It was my pleasure.”

“You do share quite the resemblance to Romanoff”, the woman said, eyeing Natasha’s face carefully, her gaze moving to her vibrant hair.

“I’ll take that as a compliment”, she smirked in response, glancing at the exit of the ride after hearing some ruckus. “Oh, there comes my little rascal. It was nice meeting you. I hope you have a magical day”, Natasha said brightly, waving at the kids before moving toward the exit of the ride where you came from, running at full speed.

“Bye!” They both said in unison, Samara waving her hand aggressively at her.

“Mommy, I have to get one of those big drum sticks everyone’s got!” You announced immediately, Wanda and Yelena following you out. Natasha arched her brow.

“Turkey leg? Honey, I don’t think you’re gonna like it”, she reasoned but she could see from your face that you were more than determined to try.

“But everyone’s got one! Please, mommy, I promise I’ll eat every last crumb”, you whined, crossing your hands in a very typical manner of pleading.

“Every last crumb you say?” She gave you an inspecting look, knowing it was most likely not happening but she was curious about those giant turkey legs as well, choosing to give in to your request. It was a special day after all.

You moved on into Liberty Square where you rode a riverboat and went into the Haunted Mansion before finding your way into Frontierland that was decorated to resemble the Wild West. Your absolute favorites were the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad as well as Tiana’s Bayou Adventure that left you speechless with references to your favorite characters and music. Next up was Adventureland where you explored the Swiss Family Treehouse and rode The Magic Carpets of Aladdin, followed by a Pirates of the Caribbean -themed ride. By the time you had scoured through the entirety of Adventureland you were starting to get tired, the late afternoon sun wearing you down. You stopped at Sunshine Tree Terrace to take a small break from all the walking, Natasha ordering herself an I Lava You -float that had passion fruit and strawberry paired with Dole whip and popping candy on top. You chose an orange and vanilla swirl cup while Yelena found herself a pineapple upside down cake from another small restaurant nearby, the delicious cake served with pineapple whip. Natasha ate at least half of the dessert, fighting with Yelena over who deserved more of the treat after Yelena had slurped up the top of Natasha’s soft serve. Wanda settled for a regular pineapple whip that she couldn’t get enough of, ordering another one to-go while you and her watched the two grown sisters argue over ice cream.

After your small break at the terrace you started to look for a restaurant to have lunch at, Natasha trying to figure out what you were craving as you attempted to continue nibbling on the turkey leg to convince her that you liked it. You had barely made a dent in it, the biggest bite marks left by Natasha when she had tasted some of the rich meat. You walked around, stopping by restaurants to see what they were serving and if everyone found something they liked on the menu, but most places seemed to be either smaller places for snacks or restaurants that simply didn’t interest you. After a while of looking you got distracted by the shops on Main Street, insisting on going to look at everything that they were selling for the second time that day. Somehow half of the day was already over, yet there was still an infinite amount of things to do and places to be. You found the idea distressing because you simply couldn’t be everywhere all at once, starting to feel upset by the exhausting excitement that you were constantly trying to contain.

“Do you think we could buy something to take home?” You asked hopefully, not expecting Natasha to agree at all because she had shot down most of your shopping suggestions from that day. Her gaze turned to you before glancing down at the glass statues you were looking at.

“I don’t see why not. It could be a fun, little memory alongside all the pictures we’ve taken”, she mused, walking closer to see if there was something specific on the shelf that you had been looking at.

“I think this is cool”, you hummed, pointing at one of the crystal princesses on the shelf, your smile fading rather quickly despite Natasha’s positive reaction to the beautiful sculpture.

“What is it, myshka (little mouse)?” She asked, pinching your Minnie ears playfully, immediately noticing the sorrowful look on your face.

“I don’t wanna go home”, you muttered quietly, looking away. You hadn’t had such fun probably ever in your life before and it made you sad to know that it would eventually have to come to an end. The fairs and carnivals you had been to didn’t even come close in comparison to the enormous theme park. Natasha offered you a small pout, empathizing with your feelings.

“Solnishka (sunshine), we still have about seven hours left in the park. It’s not time to worry about leaving yet. We’ve got so much to do”, she reminded you, smiling softly, pulling you into her arms when she noticed the slight wobble of your lower lip. “Oh, baby”, she sighed quietly, squeezing you as tightly as she could. You were clearly tired, the long, emotion-filled day finally catching up to you. “This won’t be your last time. I promise we’ll come here again, and next time we can book an even longer vacation so we have time to visit the other parks as well”, she suggested, already having thought of doing that for your birthday but she couldn’t match everyone’s schedules for a longer trip and she had another mission coming up that week, so she had settled for a day-trip.

“Really?” You asked, immediately a little less upset, aggressively blinking back your tears so you wouldn’t cry in the middle of the shop.

“Yes, really. We can come here so often you never wanna see Main Street and that pink castle at the end of it ever again”, she teased, coaxing out a laugh from you as you leaned back into her embrace. “Now, why don’t you choose yourself a sculpture to bring home with us and we’ll go find the boys? They said they’ve found a good place for lunch”, she encouraged you, kissing your forehead before letting you go back to the beautiful pieces of art.

Finally, after you were about to dramatically collapse on the streets from exhaustion Yelena picked you up to carry you on her back, bringing you to the restaurant the boys had praised in the group chat, Friar’s Nook located all the way back in Fantasyland where apparently Tony and Pepper also were. You didn’t bother to find them, your rumbling stomach too acute to waste your time on searching for them on the busy streets, Natasha making the call to find you all a place to sit and relax in while you recharged yourselves. She ordered you Creamy Bacon and Mac & Cheese Tots after getting the thumbs up from you, Yelena ordering the same after hearing the words Mac & Cheese, Wanda getting herself The Wild Toad Brat Burger. Natasha decided not to order anything for herself because she was still holding the turkey leg in her hand and she wasn’t that hungry to begin with. Instead, she took a French toasted cold brew to cool herself down with, planning on stealing some of your tots.

You spent over an hour in the restaurant, lounging around and talking about your day with Steve and Sam while you and Yelena stuffed your faces with the Mac & Cheese tots, Wanda and Natasha watching it unfold with great amusem*nt. It came to Natasha as no surprise that Wanda struggled to finish her burger, Wanda sheepishly offering it to Natasha after she had eaten half of the burger and nibbled on some fries. Natasha had been right not to order anything for herself, the turkey leg and the remains of Wanda’s meal enough to satisfy the inkling of hunger inside her. After lunch you all decided to go find the Starks since they were exploring what the Alice in Wonderland -themed section of the park had to offer. Tony suggested that you would go on Mad Tea Party with Morgan and him, Wanda off to find what kind of treats Cheshire Café sold.

“Oh, the cups, they spin!” You exclaimed in excitement, your hands moving the middle piece inside the teacup. You and Yelena’s gazes met, her hands finding the wheel as well. The ride hadn’t started yet, your cup slowly gaining more speed as you and Yelena did your very best to make it go as fast as possible.

“Go faster!” Yelena whined, Morgan giggling uncontrollably at the funny feeling, Tony unable to tear his eyes off her. An airy, female voice gave some final instructions for the guests before music started playing and the cups began to move. “Go, go, go!”

“I’m going!” You giggled back as you both continued to spin the wheel, the movement of the carousel increasing in speed, the cups moving in various different directions. There was a lot of laughing and screaming, the teacup finally reaching its speed limit, all of you unable to see anything but each other in the intense blur that the motion of the cup created. It was beyond fun to be thrown around by the ride, even Morgan seeming enamored by the speed as Tony held her tightly in his arms making sure she was safe and secure. He had a wide grin on his face, his eyes not moving away from his daughter’s overjoyed smile once during the ride.

When you finally exited the teacups the world spun in your vision so harshly that you were stumbling forward on the concrete to find your way back to Natasha, Yelena recovering much better than you were.

“Woah, that’s a pole!” Yelena shouted suddenly, yanking you away from a street sign before you had the chance to walk right into it. You couldn’t help but to giggle along with her, grabbing her hand for support.

“Mommy, you have to go on the cups too!” You exclaimed, thinking you had seen Natasha somewhere ahead of you, but when Yelena yanked you to the right you realized that you had yelled at someone else. You felt Natasha’s hands on your cheeks, her face appearing in your line of sight as your eyes slowly adjusted back to normal. You were practically able to feel the way they rolled back into place like in cartoons.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Natasha asked in amusem*nt, unable to hold back her smile at seeing your face.

“Yes!”

The ride was just as fun the second time around, Natasha’s added strength allowing the cup to spin even faster, your body squished up against hers as gravity pulled you tightly into the back of the seat. You wanted to go one more time before the lunch that sat in your stomach started to churn as a sign for you to slow down.

“Guys, you have to try this”, Wanda insisted the second you had rejoined her, Tony, Pepper and Morgan. You eyed the pastry in Wanda’s hand curiously as she split it into bite-sized pieces, each piece floating in the air around her. She wasn’t supposed to use magic in public like that unless she wanted a herd of kids and weirdos after her, but she was too excited and her hands were too full.

“You don’t want any?” Natasha asked, welcoming her own sample of the treat, confused about Wanda giving the whole pastry to the others to share.

“No, that’s the fourth one I’ve bought. You can have it all”, she chuckled, holding a Merry Unbirthtday Cupcake in her hand, a hot tea floating beside the other to at least make it look like she might have been holding it if someone saw her from afar.

“Fourth? You’re really going to town on these things”, Natasha chuckled, bringing the flaky pastry with colorful icing on top to her lips, taking a bite.

“Where did you get these?” Yelena asked immediately around the bite of food, Natasha shooting her a look for speaking with her mouth full.

“Mommy, I want my own”, you said in excitement, the vanilla creme decorating the corners of your mouth.

“Then we better get you your own”, she hummed, licking the crumbs of puff pastry off her lips. You continued to explore Fantasyland with the bigger group, finding your way back to the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train.

“Honey, don’t run”, Natasha reminded you but her words held no weight when Yelena sprinted past you faster than on a battlefield.

“Last one in the line is an egghead!” She exclaimed, Natasha shaking her head in disbelief, watching you sprint after Yelena whilst giggling loudly.

“Oh, look, they have hot fudge sundaes!” Natasha heard Wanda cheer quietly, turning around to see her heading for yet another snack restaurant.

“How have you not thrown up yet?” Natasha inquired in shock, taking a bite of the turkey leg that she was still carrying.

“I have no clue, but I’m hoping for the best”, she chuckled. “I’ve gotta taste that sundae”, she mused, walking closer to the small line the place had as if in a trance to get there.

“Get me a spoon, I’m stealing some”, Natasha hummed, dropping her bag to the ground so she could wait for you and Yelena to return, switching the turkey leg for Morgan who had been in Tony’s arms, hugging the child tightly.

“Hi, baby”, she cooed, kissing Morgan’s cheek. “What have you been up to, little stinker?” She asked quietly, Morgan giggling as she grasped Natasha’s shirt.

“Pooh”, she mumbled.

“You saw Winnie the Pooh?”

“We saw Pooh. And- and Tigger!” Morgan continued.

“We met them near Crystal Palace and she got scared. She cried”, Tony elaborated in amusem*nt, Morgan simply laughing for no reason at all.

“Well, they can be pretty scary. They’re so big next to a little squirt like you”, Natasha reasoned, tickling her under the chin to hear that chortle of a laugh that was so typical for toddlers.

“Yelena!” Your sharp voice sounded from the gates of the ride, everyone’s attention turning toward you. “Wait for me!” You cried, running after her through the entrance gates for a second round of the Mine Train.

“She really is one with the children”, Pepper mused with a slight smirk on her face, Natasha rolling her eyes in good nature.

“Comes in handy with Y/N. That girl’s got energy for days”, she chuckled, watching Tony take a bite of the turkey leg.

“How long have you had this?” He asked in mild confusion, his brow arching at the cold, dry meat.

“We bought it hours ago from somewhere around here”, she admitted, making Tony cringe.

You and Yelena went on the Mine Train so many times in a row that you lost count, eventually demanding Natasha to come with you to enjoy the fun and fast ride that you couldn’t get enough of. There were a couple of other rides you went on and a parade that you got to watch together. You loved all the music and dancing, mesmerized by the beautiful costumes and wagons that slowly moved forward on the streets. Donald Duck, who was walking between the cars, came to greet you, ruffling your hair before giving Natasha a high five. Morgan seemed rather scared, hiding her face into Pepper’s neck to avoid seeing the white fluffy duck that was twice the size of a regular human being.

The sun started to lower down from the sky, functioning as a cue for you to head to the restaurant Natasha had reserved for the night. She had chosen Be Our Guest in the hopes of fine dining in the main ballroom, the entire family needing a moment to rest before watching the nightly fireworks. The restaurant was absolutely gorgeous and beautifully decorated to match the theme of Beauty and the Beast, a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the dim ballroom that had a very inviting atmosphere to it. The ceiling had a large mural on it, tall windows displaying a dark and snowy scenery outside, Beast himself coming to greet the guests during the dinner. The pre-fixed three course meals were much fancier than what you were accustomed to, consisting of things like Charcuterie board, French onion soup, Escargot de Bourgogne, Trout Amandine, Filet Mignon, and cake with lemon curd on it. Half of the menu items you couldn’t even pronounce, or at least not before you had read them over and over again, making sure you were reading them correctly. You didn’t dislike the food at all but it was definitely filled to the brim with new. You could have chosen from the kids’ menu, but you wanted to feel like you were older, desperately wanting to fit in with everyone else, Morgan and Nathaniel the only ones who got the kids’ menu.

You noticed that the adults seemed to enjoy everything quite thoroughly, the special meats and fancy sauces receiving a lot of praise from everyone except Tony and Pepper who were the experts of fine-dining and had somehow eaten even better food in other even more expensive places. Natasha asked you how you were liking the food because she could tell you were pretending to enjoy the smoked tomato Bernaise sauce on your plate and trying to convince everyone that you weren’t put off by the medium rare filet mignon. You told her that you liked it regardless, not wanting to hurt her feelings even though you had chosen the food for yourself. Uninterested in your meal and unable to follow the adult conversation, you struggled to remain up to speed with the things they were discussing, your attention shifting to Beast who was walking around a few tables from you. He eventually came to greet you, offering to shake your hand. He didn’t speak, but did a small bow before continuing his walk around the dining hall. Thankfully, dessert didn’t disappoint you, the macaron, Grey Stuff, truffle, and cake enough to make you forget about your upsetting entrée.

By the time you got out of the restaurant all you needed to do was find a proper place to see the fireworks from. The square in front of the castle was already packed with people waiting for the fireworks to begin, twinkling lights everywhere illuminating your surroundings, the sky having turned a deep navy blue during your time dining. The fireworks were the perfect way to end your night, the gorgeous lightshow the most impressive firework show you had seen in your life, every single New Years’ show coming second compared to the impressive display of lights of multiple colors.

“That was insane! Mommy, did you see?” You cried in excitement as you were walking down Main Street to exit the park. “Oh my gosh!”

“Yes, honey, I was right behind you”, she chuckled, brushing her hand down your back affectionately.

“How did they do that? How do they know when to light them up?” You asked, your voice hasty, struggling to conceal your amazement over the show.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. They probably have some sort of mechanism that allows them to time each launch”, she mused, pulling you a bit closer to squeeze you both through a group of people standing around on the street.

“Imagine if there was just one guy running around lighting them up as fast as possible”, you giggled, turning to Tony when he started speaking, sharing his thoughts on how they had organized the fireworks.

“Nat, are you still carrying the turkey leg?” Yelena asked in disbelief, glancing down at the half-eaten drumstick.

“Oh, yeah”, she huffed in amusem*nt, waving the meat toward her. “It’s yours if you want it. Y/N’s certainly not eating it.” Yelena grabbed the turkey leg from Natasha, the latter giving her an appalled look. “Don’t eat it.” She said in a warning tone, Yelena just smirking as she bit into the turkey. “Well, it’s your food positing”, Natasha sighed, Yelena laughing quietly.

“If it just had some more sauce this would be great”, she reasoned, Natasha shaking her head slightly before shoving Yelena playfully.

“Durak (idiot).”

“Mom, wait!” Natasha halted at your voice, turning around to see that Clint and Nathaniel had stopped by the corner of a large building decorated with lights, Starks, Sam and Steve, Laura, Cooper, and Lila walking past you, wearing tired looks on their faces. Natasha gave them an empathetic frown.

“We’ll see you at the hotel. Go get some rest”, she suggested, brushing her hand over Lila’s cheek. “I hope you had fun”, she hummed, ruffling Cooper's hair affectionately, Laura offering a smile to her.

“See you at the hotel, unless we pass out in our beds”, Laura chuckled, waving goodbye as she followed the stream of people out of the park, Morgan looking over Pepper’s shoulder, waving at Natasha who couldn’t help but wave back.

“What did you find this time?” Natasha asked you teasingly, poking your sides to make you squeal.

“Clint promised to get Nate custom candy popcorn and I want some too”, you explained, glancing at the Main Street Confectionery that was flooded with people buying last minute treats to take home.

“Custom candy popcorn”, Natasha repeated evenly. “Haven’t you had enough treats today, young lady?” She inquired, shooting you an inspecting look, receiving a sheepish grin from you.

“Yes, but this is custom made!” You reasoned brightly. “Yelka will buy me if you won’t”, you countered hastily. “Won’t you, Yelena? Coolest aunt ever”, you pleaded, giving her your puppy eyes to really put a show on.

“You are impossible”, Natasha scoffed in amusem*nt, but you both knew you were getting away with it because of the special day.

“Hear that? Coolest aunt ever”, Yelena flaunted, walking past Natasha to grab your hand. “We’re going to make custom popcorn”, she informed, heading for the door of the shop, Clint and Natasha sharing looks before following in your footsteps.

“Is that Wanda?” Nathaniel asked suddenly, peering inside through the windows.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was”, Natasha laughed, knowing that if any one of them was going to be in a confectionery it was going to be Wanda with her incessant sweet-tooth and search for new flavor experiences.

You got your candy popcorn, adding all the toppings and sauces you were craving for onto the buttery popcorn, Wanda exiting the shop with a large box of treats to take to the hotel. Your feet ached, your lower back screaming for mercy from all the walking. Your head hurt and you felt like crying upon exiting through the gates when you realized that you would have to make it to the hotel in order to get to bed. You were far too tired and so was Nathaniel, both of you stumbling slowly forward, Clint and Natasha trying to encourage you to walk a bit faster, both of them thoroughly worn down as well, yet somehow Wanda and Yelena were still standing straight, laughing together as they ate Yelena’s caramel and white chocolate popcorn that was topped with M&Ms, crushed Oreos, and chopped Twix bars.

There was no better feeling than when you were finally able to collapse into bed, Natasha carefully removing your skirt, Minnie ears and pants so that you wouldn’t have to sleep in the dirty clothes, receiving a quiet whine from you when she went to remove your grimy shirt, but once it was off you, you were out like a light, Natasha showering in peace before climbing into bed with you. She didn’t go to sleep right away, staying up beside you as if watching over you, tears filling her eyes when she thought about the day that was now behind you. She couldn’t believe the things she had managed to do with you that day, unable to imagine what it was like to be so lucky to have a childhood like yours. She was proud of herself for being able to provide for you in such quantity and quality, feeling like a part of herself was healing as she brushed her hand over your hair, subtly trying to untangle some of the strands. You were the luckiest baby on earth and she had made sure of that. She was always going to make sure that you had it all, for as long as life allowed it she was going to give you all.

Chapter 32: Into the woods

Chapter Text

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” Natasha asked Wanda, entering the communal spaces to find her and Clint in the living room.

“Uh, she was in the kitchen a while back, but she got what she needed and left”, Wanda replied from the couch, curled up into a ball under a blanket, a book in her hands.

“Hm, she must’ve gone back to the apartment then”, Natasha mused, clearly deep in thought. “Let me know if you run into her”, she added, Clint and Wanda nodding in unison.

Natasha knew you had left the apartment after asking if there was an extra jar of peanut butter in the pantry, but you were low on groceries so Natasha had told you to check the communal kitchen. It had been an hour since you left but you hadn’t come back yet. Natasha wasn’t worried about you by any means, you walked around the compound as you pleased all the time. The only places you weren’t allowed were the ones that had anything to do with weaponry. You knew not to enter those spaces without adult supervision and Natasha had full trust that you wouldn’t go against her word because she had made it very clear to you just how horrible the consequences could be. She headed back home, deciding to get some chores done while you were out of the way. Maybe she could even have some alone time on the living room couch.

Natasha started off with laundry, tackling the huge mountain of clothes that had piled up over time, changing all the bed sheets before turning on the vacuum to get rid of all the dust bunnies that lurked in the corners of the apartment. She even tidied up your room a bit so it would look less like a hurricane had torn everything up. Once she got into the flow of it she no longer minded the small additional tasks that she picked up on during her cleaning process. She finished the list of chores with cleaning the bathrooms, leaving a couple windows open to ventilate the apartment while she headed for the kitchen to find herself a snack. When her hand reached for the cabin with an empty jar of peanut butter on the lowest shelf she realized to look at the clock. You had been gone for nearly three hours, having disappeared without saying a word. Natasha frowned, tossing the bread back into its basket, deciding that maybe knowing her child’s whereabouts was more important than the snack she was craving.

“Friday? Where’s Y/N?”

“Miss Romanoff left the building two and a half hours ago”, the mechanical voice announced, Natasha’s brows shooting up into her hairline.

“She what? Is she outside in the yard?”

“No, it seems that she’s left the premises”, Friday responded, Natasha standing still for a moment, trying to process the information.

“Do you know where she’s gone? Why would she leave without saying anything? She knows she’s not supposed to leave without informing me”, she rambled on, her question turning into her pondering the situation out loud, Friday forgotten.

“My apologies, I do not have that information”, the AI lamented as Natasha headed out the door. Where could you have gone? It wasn’t unusual for you to go outside to play, but it was unusual for you to not say anything about it. Deciding that it was too early to freak out, Natasha exited the back entrance of the compound, finding the vast field of grass where you had all the room to play around with whatever you came up with. She did an overall scan of the yard, unable to detect anything that would have indicated that you were present. There were toys littered around, but none of them looked like they had been used in the past couple days.

“Y/N?” She shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth to make her voice carry better. There was a slight echo, but no response. She waited for a good while, shouting your name again in the hopes of coaxing you out from whatever hiding place you had found. She walked around the compound, going over the entire area you had permission to access despite Friday’s words. She refused to believe that you had willingly gone against her word and entered the large gravel road that led to the compound or, god forbid, entered the infinite woods around it.

Natasha could feel herself grow restless the longer she looked for you, fighting her maternal urge to avoid making it into a big deal, but her child was missing and she had not the slightest clue to where you could have gone. She was meant to be level headed, calculated and smart, but all that flew out the window when she felt the worry flood her chest. Natasha dug up her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, calling the entire team through the family group chat to reach as many of them as possible. Steve was the first to pick up.

“Hey, Nat”, he greeted her, squinting at the screen. He was outside, the sun that was starting to get low, peeking from behind his head.

“Hi, have you seen Y/N?” She asked immediately, Wanda joining the call with a frown, knowing Natasha never called the group chat because she thought it was sappy and stupid.

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked hesitantly.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Natasha repeated, a slight frown on her face despite her attempts at hiding it.

“No… is everything okay?”

“She didn’t say anything to you, didn’t mention going somewhere?” Natasha continued, Wanda arching her brow.

“She’s ten. Where would she be going?” She asked in genuine confusion.

“I’ve been gone all day. I have no idea. I’m sorry”, Steve hummed, looking away from the camera as if trying to think of anything that could help.

“I can’t find her and Friday said she’s left the premises”, Natasha explained just as Clint joined on the call.

“Left premises? Why would she leave the premises?” He asked in confusion, having caught the last of her words.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out”, Steve replied, his gaze turning back to the screen. Wanda’s camera was shaky as she left her apartment, presumably yanking on her shoes by the sound of it.

“Who’s left the premises?” Tony’s voice sounded, his face popping onto the screen.

“Y/N”, they all replied in unison, Natasha’s hand coming up to her forehead in frustration.

“Can you guys come look for her? I’m starting to get worried. It’s been hours”, she sighed heavily, walking back toward one of the entrances of the building, not knowing what else to do.

“I’m on my way”, Wanda huffed, clearly hurrying down a flight of stairs. “I’ll be right there”, she added before she ended the call.

“Me too. I’ll send drones into the woods, okay?” Tony said, sounding rather hopeful that he was going to find you.

“I can’t make it. I’m in Brooklyn, but please keep me posted”, Steve informed, Natasha nodding in understanding.

“Hopefully we won’t need your help”, she mused quietly, desperately praying that you were right around the corner somewhere.

“Hey, what’s up guys? What are we doing?” Sam asked brightly, completely clueless, his smile wiped away by the grim looks on everyone’s faces.

“Just come outside, we’ll explain there”, Clint said, earning a nod from Natasha.

“Bye”, she mumbled, ending the call as she bit down on her lip, searching for a way to ease her anxiety. You were just fine. She could feel it in her gut. You were safe and okay, and she was just overreacting. It wasn’t like you were three years old anymore. You could spend a few hours alone, unsupervised, and in the woods. Natasha fought the uneasiness that twisted in her stomach, her frown only deepening. No, you could not do that because what if a bear ate you, or you ran into some crazy person living in the woods, or fell into a creek, or stepped onto a snake who would swallow you whole in revenge.

“I can’t feel her mind around here”, Wanda said softly, Natasha turning to look at her, letting out a heavy sigh at the news. “But that doesn’t mean much. I’m sure she’s somewhere near”, she assured Natasha, brushing her hand down her shoulder. “She’s a smart girl.” Natasha knew that, but it was very much possible that someone smarter than you was lurking in the woods and was out to get you, at least in her mind.

They all headed into the woods, shouting your name, doing their best to cover as much ground as possible, Tony’s drones scanning the area for any heat waves that could reveal your location. Wanda listened actively for your mind, her telekinesis poking around, trying to find something other than the active minds of birds, squirrels, and mice. Sam and Clint stuck to more traditional ways of searching, shouting your name as they ploughed through the shrubs looking for any signs of you. Had you been anywhere nearby, you should have been able to hear their voices and Wanda should have been able to locate your mind, but every single asset they had came up short. You were nowhere to be found and the farther Natasha walked into the woods the more afraid she became. It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t okay, and she sure as hell wasn’t overreacting anymore.

“Something’s wrong”, she mumbled in a breathy voice, Clint turning to look at her, the others farther away from them.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because we should have found her by now”, she replied grimly, halting in her steps to take a look at the beautiful woods that shone a light green and yellow where the setting sun peeked through the trees. “Maybe she’s not here at all. Maybe she’s home. I hope she’s home, looking for us”, she mused quietly, her chest feeling heavy from anxiety.

“I’ll call Steve to see if he’s back yet. Keep looking. She’ll turn up from somewhere”, Clint said encouragingly, patting Natasha’s back as he dug up his phone to dial Steve’s number.

“Y/N!” She shouted again, the woods repeating her words in a faint echo, her voice wavering at the end. She was starting to lose hope, the very worst outcomes popping into her head every time she looked behind a tree stump, a rock, or under a bush, the visual of finding your dead body from somewhere, whether it was mauled by an animal or injured by nature, making her shiver. She shook her head abruptly, doing her best to rid herself of the gruesome images, focusing back on scouring through the grounds.

“She’s not home, Steve’s gonna come search for her as well”, Clint informed, his gaze rising up from his phone to see Natasha’s frown of anguish. “Look”, he started softly, taking a couple of steps to get closer to her. “It’s gonna be alright. Kid’s probably playing in a bush or something, completely in her own world. It happens sometimes”, he reasoned, but he could see from Natasha’s defensive stance that she was not buying a single word.

“So do kidnappings. It wouldn’t be the first time”, she countered bitterly, staring ahead to avoid what she was feeling, not allowing Clint’s face to elicit a single emotion in her.

“Natasha, you’re being unreasonable. No one is coming to get her. It’s been years since the incident. Who would come after her?”

“Not her, me”, she corrected in a quiet grunt, giving him a look. “There’s plenty of people who have unfinished business with me.”

“How many?” He asked in slight disbelief.

“Enough.” She looked away from him again, pursing her lips as she cast her eyes down. “The widows can’t be freed. There’s always someone who wants a piece of you, someone who wants to claim you”, she explained, her voice low, reserved.

“Even outside the Red Room?”

“Especially outside”, she confirmed, their eyes meeting for a moment. Clint looked apologetic, unsure of how to respond, but it seemed like she was starting to convince him as well. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Natasha took a few steps back, turning away to shout your name again. It echoed in the woods, followed by another echo from elsewhere, the lower voice register suggesting it to be Steve’s. She tried again, and so did Clint, the infinite forest seeming to swallow down any attempt at being loud. Natasha sighed again, closing her eyes to reign in her emotions. What if you were lost? She felt lost, even though she knew exactly where she was and how to get back. She couldn’t even imagine how it felt to you.

“Y/N!”

“Mom?”

Natasha’s eyes flashed open, her face turning to Clint as if to confirm that she had really heard right. He didn’t seem fazed by anything, frowning softly, looking for an explanation to Natasha’s shocked expression. He was about to open his mouth when she brought her finger to her lips, telling him to remain quiet. Her hands moved in a quick sign to ask him if he had heard anything. Clint shook his head. They both stood still, waiting patiently for the sound to come again. He tapped her shoulder gently to gain her attention, the movement of his hands flowing naturally as he signed her a question, asking what she had heard, Natasha responding with what she knew. He suggested that she should try again, nudging his head as a way to gesture to her to go for it.

“Y/N! Where are you?”

“Mom?”

Those same wide eyes turned to Clint again, this time receiving a confirming nod from him. He had heard your voice as well. Natasha started to move toward the sound as if drawn in by a siren, Clint following suit as he brought his hand to his ear, switching on the comm that was almost always in his ear.

“I think we found her”, he informed the others triumphantly, hastening his pace to keep up with Natasha.

“About time”, Tony groaned.

“Oh, thank god. I was getting worried”, Wanda moaned in relief.

“Y/N-honey, can you shout again?” Natasha asked loudly, impatiently waiting for your voice to sound again to determine which direction to head to.

“I see her. Nat, go a bit more to the left”, Tony instructed, Natasha nearly breaking into a run.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” You asked in confusion when she appeared from behind a large rock, finally discovering your hiding place. She wore a worried frown on her face, having convinced herself that you sounded scared or otherwise disturbed but you were completely fine. She studied the set up you had, a large blanket spread over the moss of the forest floor beneath a sturdy oak tree, Tootsie sitting beside you with a tea cup filled to the brim with juice. You sat there with your legs crossed, your fingers covered in the jam that was oozing out of your peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bewildered look on your face, unable to understand what all the fuss was about.

“Hey, there you are”, Clint huffed in relief, a smile spreading on his lips at the sight of the interrupted tea party.

“No, what the hell are you doing here?” Natasha asked angrily, a small frown etching its way onto your features as you lowered down the sandwich in your hands. “We’ve been looking for you for god knows how long!” She chimed, but all you could do was look at her as you thought about the way you had left the building, slowly realizing you hadn’t told anyone anything.

“Oh, why were we not invited”, Sam lamented as he and Tony entered the scene, Wanda floating down from the treetops.

“She’s okay”, Wanda hummed quietly, a soft smile on her face as she placed a gentle hand on Natasha’s rigid shoulder. “She’s okay”, she whispered in emphasis, sensing very strongly the trepidation that beamed from Natasha’s demeanor. Wanda squeezed her bicep firmly, Natasha’s head turning to face her, her brows softening at the little tilt of Wanda’s head. “Now is not the time to be angry”, she whispered in empathy, reminding her to focus on the good.

“You’re all here”, you stated in confusion, watching Steve emerge from behind the trees.

“We thought you were lost”, Clint explained, unable to wipe the small smirk off his face. He was just too relieved by the sight of your little picnic.

“Oh, no. I wasn’t lost. I marked the trees so I could find my way back”, you explained, digging up blue chalk from your backpack, showing the pale colored piece to everyone.

“No one thought to check the tree trunks?” Sam asked in disbelief, Tony wiping a hand down his face in mild annoyance at the slip up, Wanda attempting to bite back her smile because there really wasn’t anything funny about it. You could have been lost or seriously hurt, but she was more than glad to know you were completely okay.

“It’s not my fault you’re all dumb”, you huffed, starting to feel embarrassed for the scene you had caused, your cheeks heating up in shame as you set the bread down and licked your fingers clean before pulling Tootsie into your arms for comfort.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay baby?” Natasha hummed, walking closer to you, kneeling down to the blanket. “Thank you everyone for the help.” She turned to look at the others, offering them a slight nod of her head. She was truly more than grateful for the way they had instantly jumped into action and started looking for you, deeming that she should find a proper way to truly show them how much it meant to her.

“We’ll see you at dinner, right doll?” Steve asked knowingly, earning a firm nod from you. It felt a bit awkward to watch everyone slowly retreat from your cozy playing spot, knowing that you had bothered all of them with your little trick. You offered them a small wave of your hand, your eyes turning to your mother, shame swallowing you whole.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, casting your eyes down to look at the grass. “Please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to. I just forgot”, you explained hastily, hoping for Natasha to understand that you hadn’t disappeared on purpose.

“Malyshka (baby)…” She sighed heavily.

“Mommy, I know”, you whined desperately.

“Do you? You did both of the things I tell you every day not to do. Do you even realize how far away we are from the compound?” Her tone was berating, filled with frustration.

“I don’t know, like a mile”, you huffed in annoyance, not really comprehending how much a mile was supposed to be. It was just a unit that was commonly used when describing distance.

“We’re three miles away (5km)”, Natasha retorted.

“Well…”

“Have you been here before?” She asked, your face giving away nothing for a brief moment, Natasha arching her brow. She recognized that blank look from her own face, slightly impressed by how well you did it. “Y/N”, she said pointedly, a hint of warning in her voice.

“No!” You huffed in defense, Natasha co*cking her head, her eyes finding your own.

“Don’t try to lie to me.”

“Not here”, you mumbled, accepting your fate and telling her the truth. You didn’t exactly dare to lie to her, not seriously at least.

“You’ve been going out into the woods?” She inquired, doing her best to keep her voice even and to reign in the fear that often tried to come out in flashes of anger.

“Sometimes… yeah”, you admitted hesitantly. “I just wanted an adventure”, you murmured, pulling out a book that was on Tootsie’s side of the blanket, Natasha’s eyes landing on a book of fairytales. “I thought I could find something cool here”, you added quietly, clearly embarrassed for the way you had behaved. Natasha remained quiet for a moment, calming down her mind before opening her mouth to speak.

“Did you find anything cool?” She asked with a small smirk, your surprised eyes turning to her. You seemed to pause for a moment as if making sure she was being serious, but when you saw her soft smile and curious eyes you felt the nerves start to ebb away.

“Yeah, I found loads of stuff”, you said in sudden excitement, discarding Tootsie to the side to pull up your backpack. You dug a large stone from its depths, handing the perfectly round, gray rock to her. It was the size of the palm of her hand, Natasha testing its weight as she studied the dirty surface.

“That’s quite something”, she mused, doing her best to look impressed by your findings, a wide grin forming on your lips.

“I don’t know how it’s so round. Do you?”

“No, honey I’m not sure. Could be the result of erosion”, she replied, receiving the second piece of treasure you had collected. It was a huge pine cone that had spread its scales as wide as they would go.

“What’s erosion? Isn’t it cool?” You asked right after, making sure Natasha was really taking a good look at the pine cone.

“Didn’t I just help you with your geography homework about erosion?”

“Oh, that, yeah”, you mumbled, immediately losing interest in the phenomenon, continuing to empty the backpack.

“Woah, back up. What was that?” Natasha asked suddenly, her eyes focused on your hand that had pulled out a pocket knife that looked awfully familiar. You handed the hunting knife to Natasha with a sheepish look on your face.

“It’s for defense”, you quipped, Natasha giving you a sly look, impressed by your concern for safety.

“You stole this from my room?”

“Well, cause you never use it”, you started defensively, doing your best to avoid any more chastising for the day, but Natasha didn’t seem angry with you, a small smile on her face.

“You know how to use it?”

“Yeah, I cut a twig in half”, you announced proudly, pulling out said stick from your backpack.

“And cut your finger in the process?” She asked in mild amusem*nt, noticing a thin red line on your forefinger. It wasn’t deep, a mere scratch.

“No”, you giggled, hiding the hand from her, Natasha giving you a knowing look.

“I won’t let you carry it if you don’t know how to use it”, she said softly. “Show me how you would attack.” You looked at her, slightly appalled by her request, but you showed her regardless, holding the knife in your hand, the sharp end pointing down to the ground, the blade toward your forearm. You brought the hand up, swinging it forward gently, not really putting much effort into it because you were just demonstrating. “Very good. Efficient”, she praised, nodding along as you stabbed the air again. “Come here, myshka”, she beckoned, pulling you a bit closer, her hand pushing down on the dull side of the blade, gently pressing it back until the blade rested against your bare wrist. “See that? You could really hurt yourself. How do you fix that?” She asked with a certain softness in her voice to avoid sounding like there was something incorrect in what you were doing.

You seemed to ponder her question for quite a while, not really knowing what the right answer was despite knowing that there was one. You changed the way you were holding the knife, flipping the hilt around to bring the blade up and away from your wrist, mimicking a typical slicing movement, holding the knife like you were about to cut vegetables.

“Another good choice, but not quite as sturdy as the one you had before”, Natasha noted, using her hand to gently knock the knife out of your grip. “You want to keep the support of your arm behind that blade.” She brought the knife back to its starting position, prompting you to try again. “How would you hurt me when the knife is positioned like that?” That’s when it clicked for you, a smile cracking onto your lips as you spun the blade around, the sharp edge toward Natasha. “Excellent. Most times this one is the best way to hold a knife to both get more strength in your attack as well as to protect yourself better”, she explained in excitement, always happy to share self-defense skills with you, although that wasn’t the only reason she liked to teach you to fight. She had always been good at fighting. It was something she thrived at, and she truly appreciated it whenever you showed even an ounce of interest in her skills, glad to pass down any knowledge she had gained during her lifetime.

“We should train with knives sometimes”, you mused, studying the range of motion you had with your new grip on the knife. Natasha was slightly surprised, but more than adamant to make it happen. You were starting to be old enough for more than just combat.

“Do you really want to?” She asked, carefully taking the knife from you and folding the blade back in.

“Yeah, I wanna use all the weapons”, you chuckled, Natasha’s laugh echoing yours as she pulled you in to kiss the top of your head.

“I’m really glad you’re okay”, she said suddenly, refusing to pull away from the side hug you had found yourself in. You moved your arm across her abdomen, allowing her to hug you better.

“Of course I’m okay”, you huffed, clearly unaware of every single possibility Natasha had imagined while searching for you. She rolled her eyes in good nature.

“I know you think you’re old enough, Little Miss Independent, but you’re not. You need to tell me where you’re going and what you’re doing so that I can keep you safe, understand?” She began, her tone growing more serious. She felt your head move against her shoulder as you nodded slowly. “Look at me, honey”, she ordered softly, prompting you to look up to face her. “You really scared me today”, she admitted quietly, giving herself some room to actually feel the fear that had nearly taken control of her during your search.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, a slight pout appearing on your lips. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, angel, I know. I just… you’re my baby”, she sighed heavily, squeezing you tighter. “And I worry for you”, she hummed, her lips finding your forehead to kiss. “There’s a lot of bad people in this world and I would hate for you to have to run into them because I wasn’t careful enough”, she whispered, brushing back some of your hair. “You can play in the woods, but not without my permission and not without your cell phone. We can even come here together if that’s what you’d like, but safety comes first, okay?” She peered down at your face to see if her message had gone through, a firm nod from you confirming her that you understood.

“Okay”, you echoed evenly, nuzzling a little closer to her for more comfort.

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like this again. You need to tell me, or Steve, or Wanda, anyone at home, if you decide to leave the premises of the compound. Even Friday will do if you’re in that much of a hurry, but I would really prefer it if you informed me, so that I know what to expect.” You could only nod in agreement. “Promise me that you won’t do this again”, she added, pulling back properly to see you fully.

“I promise”, you whispered, clearly ashamed of your actions. “I’m sorry, mom”, you lamented, Natasha’s lips cracking into a comforting smile.

“You’re forgiven, dorogaya”, she assured you encouragingly, pulling you back into her warm embrace, squeezing you until you let out a theatrical groan, pretending that she was crushing you with her incredible strength. It made her laugh, the sound of her chuckle tickling your ear as she only hugged you tighter, peppering little kisses in your hair.

“We don’t have to go home yet, right?” You asked hopefully, pulling back to see her face again, Natasha’s brow arching slightly. She looked around her in the glowing forest, the color of the leaves only emphasized by the intensity of the setting sun. It was silent around you, excluding the rustle of the wind and the lively birds that wouldn’t stop singing. It was perfectly serene and Natasha didn’t have to guess twice why you liked to spend your time in the silence of the forest.

“You got another one of those sandwiches for mama?” She inquired playfully, a huge grin spreading on your lips as you turned to your backpack again, pulling out a triangle wrapped in aluminum foil, one of the sides sticky from leaking jam. Natasha accepted the suspicious lump that you had made all by yourself, scooching back enough to lean against the majestic oak tree, making herself comfortable on the blanket. You picked up your half-eaten sandwich as well, deciding to sit yourself down between Natasha’s legs so you could lean against her like she was your personal recliner. Her hand found your abdomen, gently stroking over your belly as you ate your sandwiches in silence, your head resting against her shoulder, giving you a really good view at the canopy above.

Chapter 33: Downtown

Chapter Text

Natasha felt movement in the sheets, something tugging her duvet aside, a flush of cold dusting over her skin, erupting goosebumps over the surface, but she was too groggy to do anything about it, already aware of who was causing it. A hint of a smile crossed her features when she felt you wiggle yourself against her back to cuddle her, your hand sliding over her waist in a hug. It was early in the morning, Natasha could tell from the atmosphere and the lighting of the room. It was also very typical of you to find your way beside her for morning cuddles any time you both had a day off. It was a comforting way to bond and something that came very naturally to you, especially since you were such an affectionate child who didn’t seem to be anywhere near growing out of cuddles. It suited your mother more than well even on those days when she would have rather been alone because knowing that you always had the option to crawl into her arms was something she was very proud of. She was glad to have taught you that there was never a time when you weren’t welcome in her presence or a time when you couldn’t search for comfort in her embrace. She truly valued that very fact because she knew that had you not been comfortable with her or trusted her, you wouldn’t have set foot in her bedroom.

“Mom”, you whispered after ten dreadful minutes that had only been dreadful to you because you found yourself impatient to start the day and cuddles were only fun when Natasha was awake as well. “Mom!” You whisper-yelled again, nudging her a little, only to receive a quiet grunt. She didn’t move, so painfully groggy from sleep, her heavy limbs refusing to move an inch, the muscle ache that she had been left with after her training session from the day before convincing her to remain still. “Mommy”, you whined, sitting up on the bed to find a better position to shake her shoulder. “Mommy, mommy, mommy.” You climbed over her, Natasha wincing at the harshness of your movements as you dug your way beneath her arm so she could hug you to her chest, every nudge, tug, and pull you caused sending a spark of slight irritation through her, but once you were fully situated against her it evaporated into thin air, replaced by a sudden wave of comfort from the scent of sleep you carried.

“Mom, mom. You have to wake up”, you whined again, poking her stomach.

“Why?” She groaned, her voice low and heavy with sleep.

“Because”, you giggled, not really having a proper reason for it. You just wanted her to get up already so you could start the day. “It’s Saturday”, you reasoned. “And we have plans.”

“Shouldn’t you let mommy sleep a little more then?” She challenged, causing you to frown.

“No.”

“What if I want to sleep all day?” She asked in amusem*nt, unable to hide the smile that stretched onto her face as she tightened her arms around you, resting her chin on your head, eyes remaining closed to hold onto the very last bit of sleep.

“You can’t sleep all day”, you chuckled.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to”, you offered cheekily.

“What about what I want?” You let out a long sigh at that, having been driven into a corner. She should also have a say in what she wanted to do for the day.

“Who’ll make me breakfast then?” You mumbled. “If you sleep all day?”

“You’re a big girl, you know how to cook”, she countered playfully, earning a giggle from you.

“Mommm, I’m serious”, you whined, moving your chin up to see her face, Natasha pulling back slightly to meet your gaze through her halfway closed eyelids.

“Well, what do you want? Let’s start with that”, she hummed, turning onto her back to stretch out her whole body, her joints letting out a bunch of cracks and pops.

“Cinnamon pancakes”, you replied definitively, hearing a hum come from her.

“Mm, those sound really good”, she agreed, bringing her head down from the stretch to look at your face that was still slightly puffy from sleep and your absolute mess of a hair. She let out a gentle chuckle at your appearance, combing her fingers over your tangled locks.

“See? You can’t sleep all day. You have to make us pancakes!” You reasoned, Natasha rolling her eyes in good nature.

“What if I just have you make the pancakes and bring them into bed for me?” She questioned.

“I’d just burn them and you would send them back into the kitchen”, you chuckled, Natasha joining in on the laughter.

“Alright, I won’t sleep all day”, she relented, bringing her head up from the pillow to kiss your forehead as a beaming smile creeped up onto your features. “Give me fifteen more minutes to wake up, okay? You can already go look for ingredients and find me a bowl and a whisk”, she instructed, noticing the way you seemed to brighten up at receiving a task for yourself. Natasha pulled you closer once more to kiss your cheek before letting go of you. “Okay, go. I’ll come check in a bit to see how well you did”, she added encouragingly. You crawled off the bed, running out of the bedroom to go complete her request.

Natasha let out a long sigh, her eyelids drooping down on their own. She had no energy to fight against it, succumbing to the immediate need to relax every muscle in her body in order to prolong the feeling of relaxation and peace for just a few seconds longer. She could hear you make ruckus in the kitchen, the sound of music carrying through the air. You must’ve turned on the speakers, one of your favorite songs blasting from the living room. It made her smile. You had good taste in music and she couldn’t lie, she didn’t mind it at all. She arched her back once again, stretching herself thoroughly before rolling onto her stomach to find a more upright position that could possibly wake her up a little more. She had slept the whole night through and probably gotten more than nine hours of sleep, but the sleep debt she had acquired from the past week was definitely leaving its mark on her.

She rolled out of bed, pulled on a giant sweater that she had stolen from someone in the tower, and headed into the kitchen where you were trying to decide between a huge glass bowl and a slightly smaller plastic bowl, a bunch of the cabinet doors wide open as a result of your searching. It spread a smile on Natasha’s face as she entered the kitchen, pressing a brief kiss in your hair before walking past you to the sink to get some water.

“Which bowl is the right one?”

“Whichever you choose”, she replied between gulps.

“No, but the one you always use”, you clarified, turning around to look at her expectantly.

“I like the glass bowl. It’s pretty”, she hummed, refilling her cup of water before starting to help you with the preparation for breakfast. She found herself a pan and started frying a couple slices of bacon in it since she was craving something along the lines of an American breakfast. It didn’t take you long to become uninterested by the cooking, your energy too much for the kitchen to handle, but Natasha didn’t mind watching you goof around in the living room while she cooked. She actually preferred it because you weren’t in her way and she could whip up the breakfast much faster than if you were helping her. She could hear you running around the apartment, singing along to the songs that came from the speakers that were playing a playlist you had made a few weeks ago titled “Fun times” which Natasha found beyond adorable. Once the bacon was fried she cracked a few eggs into the pan and started to scramble them on low heat so she could simultaneously measure the ingredients for the pancake batter as well as mix up the cinnamon paste that would go into the middle during the frying process. The song changed on the speakers, an excited shout sounding from your room.

“I love this one!” You informed her, running back into the kitchen just to let her know that you liked the song, Natasha taking advantage of the opportunity.

“This is such a good song, honey. You’re absolutely right”, she agreed, nodding along to the rhythm of the song. “Would you mind setting the table for me?” She added right after to get you to at least participate a little on making breakfast. You headed straight for the cupboards to find you plates and cutlery as you sang along to the lyrics of the song that admittedly weren’t exactly child-appropriate, but Natasha had heard worse in her lifetime so she didn’t have the energy to care.

Natasha stacked up the pancakes as she was frying them, cutting up some strawberries, kiwis, and bananas on the side, choosing whatever fruit she could find from the fridge, the song changing once again. Your music taste seemed to vary in the strangest ways, some songs belonging to the typical pop music genre, and others deviating rather strongly from that same category, the classical piece by Sergei Prokofiev catching her completely off guard. She was definitely surprised by having left an imprint on your music taste but proud nonetheless, your dramatic enactment of a knight fight only feeding into her sense of pride. She followed you around the living room with her gaze as the grandiloquent orchestra billowed from the speakers, a giant smile on her face. You battled with the couch, somehow having acquired a sword from somewhere at some point. You would have fought Natasha instead but you knew not to play in the kitchen when there were knives and hot pans around. Once the more intense part of the song was over you tossed the sword aside and came running back to her, out of breath and very clearly hungry, your little fingers snatching a steaming hot pancake from the top of the stack.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch”, you whimpered, shoving the whole thing in your mouth to avoid it burning your fingertips but what you had failed to realize was that it was going to burn your tongue next. You let out a little exclamation of pain, spitting the pancake on the kitchen island to escape the burn, heading for the fridge to find milk to soothe your pain. It was all rather comedic with the background music of your choice, Natasha watching the scene unfold as she flipped the pair of pancakes over, her other hand bringing a plump strawberry to her lips. It served you right for stealing her pancakes like that.

“Malyshka (baby), will you turn down the music while we eat?” She asked as she was plating the eggs, bacon, and pancakes for you. She couldn’t hear a response from you, but the volume went down several notches a few seconds later, leaving it low enough to be ambient music.

“Can we have a dance party after breakfast?” You asked hopefully as you took a seat at the table. You were full of energy, so excited for the day that was ahead of you most likely because you were going to meet up with Makena and her mother Vivienne to spend a day in the big city since Natasha had other plans for the day.

“Dance party so early in the morning?“ She questioned, only receiving a bright grin from you. “I don’t see why not”, she chuckled, pouring a good amount of maple syrup over her pancakes, gesturing the bottle toward you to silently ask if you wanted any. You nodded immediately, watching her pour some of the golden brown liquid over your pancakes.

You could barely find the patience to chew your food, humming along to the melody of the quiet music that could be heard in the kitchen as you swung your legs back and forth under the table, happily stabbing the cinnamon pancakes onto your fork, topping it off with a piece of strawberry before sliding it into your mouth. Natasha wasn’t one to brag about her cooking skills, but she couldn’t lie that over the years she had mastered some dishes and said breakfast was definitely one of them. She took a sip of her black coffee, washing down the taste of cinnamon before taking a bit of fresh fruit, the combination of flavors matching perfectly with the serene Saturday morning.

It was during moments like these when she felt truly happy and content, realizing that she was living the life she had envisioned for herself as a silly, little girl that had only dared to dream under the lousy blanket of her lumpy bunk. She might not have had a suburban house with a white picket fence or the love of her life, her princess charming or anyone else to fill in that position but she had something far greater than what she had been capable of imagining. She had freedom. She had a family. Natasha had given up on the dream of finding love, deeming her family to be plenty of love for her lifetime. The last time she had even dared to imagine such a thing she must have had less than ten years of age. She never managed to shake off the ideology that the Red Room had instilled in her. Love was still for children and it was forever going to be for children, at least when it came to romantic love in her life. She couldn’t imagine anything more insufferable than spending time with someone who she was supposed to love and find attractive. She couldn’t think of anything worse than coexisting with another adult. She was comfortable alone and she didn’t want to introduce anyone to you in order to keep you safe. It suited her more than well because it shut people out in a very concrete way that allowed her to keep her distance from anyone but her family. She didn’t feel the need to rely on anyone else but herself for her happiness.

“I’m done!” You announced, gathering your dishes and sliding off the seat to take your plate into the sink. “Thank you, mom. It was super yummy.”

“You’re welcome, dear”, she hummed, taking a bite of bacon. You hurried into the living room, turning the music back up while you waited for Natasha to join your dance party. By the time she found her way to you she was welcomed with loud singing into the bristles of your hairbrush that functioned as a microphone for your on-stage performance. It spread a wide smile onto Natasha’s face, her eyes searching for a makeshift microphone for herself as well. She ended up grabbing the TV remote just in time for the next line of Heads Will Roll for her to sing. Your entire face seemed to brighten up at her willingness to fall into the moment and the role of a performing singer. She pulled her hair loose from the low, messy bun she had worn, shaking her head a bit to give it an even messier look that made you laugh as you jumped up and down on the couch, so out of breath you could barely keep up with the singing but you tried nonetheless.

“Your turn, rockstar”, Natasha said, nudging you a bit, continuing to show you some of the most embarrassing dance moves you had witnessed in your life. You brought the hairbrush to your lips, singing along to the simple lyrics while engaging in the dancing with her, copying some of her movements to feel as cool as she looked.

“The men cried out, the girls cried out. The men cried out, the girls cried out. The men cried out, oh no!” You sang at the top of your lungs, not caring how you sounded, too focused on having fun while Natasha filled in the ‘oh’s for you, possessing the ability to make them sound less flat than your attempts. You admired her singing skills and the way she was able to change the style and the sound of her voice to match the singer. She wasn’t an exceptional singer by any means, but to you she was the best of them all because she excelled at adopting different roles for herself. Whether she was singing rock, pop, or ballads, she was always giving it her all. She was a true performer, at least within the four walls of your living room. You sang the final lines together, finishing off the song with as much energy as you had started it with. All you could do was smile, your body already moving to the rhythm of the next song that was once again a complete one-eighty from the previous song in every way possible. It was a slower, Russian ballad, sung by an old man with a deep, grave voice, but that didn’t stop you or Natasha, not in the slightest, the living room filled by your deepened voices.

“Ne vstrechal by vas, ya by znal pokoy (If I hadn’t met you I would have known peace).” Natasha and you sang in the most dramatic way possible, really playing into the depth of his voice paired with all sorts of hand gestures as you acted out the song. You didn’t understand all the lyrics or what they meant but you knew they needed to be sung with all the passion you could muster and it never failed to make Natasha laugh, a part of her somewhere deep within so very pleased that you had adopted some of her culture and carried it with pride.

The dramatic performance eventually came to an end, your feet carrying you into the kitchen to steal a leftover pancake for yourself as a halftime snack before you returned to the couch. The third song was bound to give you whiplash, the living room once again filled with so much energy it was about to spill out the windows. It was your favorite dance song at the moment, prompting you to jump on the couch as hard as you possibly could, your hair and pajamas a mess, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Natasha joined you on the cushions, jumping a little lighter because of the obvious size difference and because she had a suspicion the couch could not handle her using it as a trampoline.

“Oh, yeah!” You exclaimed into your hairbrush, doing a couple more jumps, a loud snap sounding from the springs of the couch beneath you, causing you to halt abruptly. Natasha’s head turned to you as your gazes met, both sharing the same look of surprise on your faces. You did your very best not to burst into laughter, wanting to see how Natasha was going to react to it first. The corners of her mouth turned up in amusem*nt as she continued to bounce on the cushions.

“Oopsie”, she chuckled, dismissing the little incident completely, not really caring that much whether you broke a spring or not.

The dance party lasted the whole morning until it was time to start getting ready for the city, yet somehow all the singing had only drained a fraction of your energy. You were abnormally active and all up in Natasha’s business which had not happened in a good while, but she didn’t really mind it, how could she when you functioned as her personal stylist by digging through her closet and suggesting the most horrendous outfits imaginable.

“Will you let me do your makeup too?” You asked hopefully, emerging from between the racks of clothing.

“Pick an outfit for me first and we’ll see then”, she hummed, pulling off her sweater.

“Oh, oh! Look at these!” You yelped, running back into the bedroom to show her a pair of perfectly ordinary pants that Natasha was very well aware of because she had used them quite often at one point of her life.

“Those are very stylish”, she noted, but you had disappeared back into the closet before you had even given her the chance to respond. Natasha shook her head in amusem*nt, patiently waiting for your next suggestion.

“You should definitely wear this”, you stated, dragging a ball gown behind you, a green blazer having appeared on you from somewhere. “Do you think this suits me?” You asked in all seriousness, doing a little twirl for her to showcase the dress jacket.

“It’s a little big”, she huffed, eyeing the very oversized jacket on you. “But I’m sure you’ll grow into it. We’ll see in a couple of years”, she hummed, her questioning gaze moving to the ball gown. “I can’t wear that to the city, dummy”, she reasoned apologetically.

“No, it’s for me”, you explained, pulling off your clothes and discarding them to the floor to be able to slide into the dress that was incredibly loose on you. “Do you think I look like a princess?”

“You do, sweetheart. You’re such a beautiful princess”, she mused, heading for the closet. You nearly stumbled over the skirt of the dress in your process of making her stop in her tracks.

“Don’t you wanna watch my runway show first?” You asked pleadingly. “I promise I’ll pick an outfit for you after”, you added, Natasha giving you an amused smile, knowing the outfit was going to be something she was definitely going to have to turn down.

“Alright, you get fifteen minutes, but then we really need to start getting ready. I can’t be late”, she reminded you, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you!“ You exclaimed, heading back inside the closet to form your outfits of choice for the show. It didn’t take you too long because everything you could find in her spacious closet was worth your attention, the racks of clothing that you had never seen Natasha wear seeming to be endless. Your ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s sounded into the bedroom very clearly as you made all kinds of combinations.

“Come on, baby. Let me see the first one!” Natasha exclaimed, clapping her hands to gain your attention, very aware of the time that was constantly ticking.

“Here comes!” You replied, emerging from the closet with a skirt Natasha hadn’t seen in twenty years paired with an old, frumpy blouse that didn’t match in any way with the pattern of the skirt. You had on a scarf and a hat as accessories, none of the colors matching exceptionally well with each other. You stumbled forward a bit in your knee-high boots, the laces still undone because you didn’t have the time to deal with them.

“Oh, wow! That is definitely something. Let me take a picture”, Natasha marveled, finding her phone from the bed to capture the moment. She knew that in a few years you would have a good laugh together over the pictures, but she also found you incredibly adorable and she needed to be able to relive the moment again whenever needed. “Pose for me, kroshka (little one)”, she said encouragingly, aiming the camera at you as you gave her a couple very typical poses like hands on your hips and a look over your shoulder, exhibiting immense confidence for a child so small. “That’s it. What a model you are”, she praised, snapping a few more pictures before it was time for an outfit change.

“This one is my favorite”, you announced, walking across the bedroom to really show her all the angles where the new set of clothes fit too loose on you. You had pulled on another skirt that was far too short on Natasha but seemed to fit you rather well at least length-wise, and paired it with long, flared jeans from nearly a decade ago, the pant legs so long you were bound to fall on your face. On the top half you had a lacy top that Natasha had most definitely stolen from a mission, having no recollection of even owning a shirt so risqué. You had added a simple black purse to go with it, giving Natasha a proper runway walk past her before blowing her a kiss.

“Jeans and a skirt, incredibly bold of you”, she mused, nodding in approval of the awfully ill-fitting get-up.

“Take a picture!” You ordered, already posing for her, patiently waiting for her to whip out her phone.

“Alright, baby. You get to show me one more outfit. Make it good!” She added as you hurried back into the closet for one more round. The third one consisted of a long, beige peacoat, a pair of sleek sunglasses, and a disgustingly pink shirt that Natasha had probably never worn because the bright pink shade didn’t go well with her complexion. You hadn’t had time for pants so you were just in your underwear, but had still managed to find yourself a pair of sneakers from the depths of her closet.

“Hmm, public indecency. That’s exactly what I’m looking for”, she said sarcastically, making you laugh.

“Wouldn’t this be cute?” You asked hopefully, turning around to show her the full outfit.

“Yes, it would be so cute if you had some pants on you”, she noted teasingly, getting up from the bed, her hands finding your shoulders, kissing your head briefly. “I have absolutely loved this show and we can continue this another time, but I need you to complete this mission for me, agent”, she stated suddenly, gaining your attention by making the task into a game.

“Yes, ma’am”, you saluted her, nodding firmly. “I will find an outfit. What do you want to wear?”

“Something neutral. Choose me something you think is lame and boring”, she instructed, hoping her plan was going to work.

“Yes, ma’am”, you nodded again, but before you could run off, Natasha’s hands grabbed the coat, holding you back.

“Let me hold onto this”, she hummed, peeling the coat off you. Thankfully your sense of lameness was exactly what Natasha had been looking for, pleased to find out that you had chosen a casual black dress for her to wear that went well with the peacoat. You helped her find a pair of shoes and you were finally ready to leave the house after you had pulled your clothes back on. Natasha made sure you had your phone with you so that you could call her at any point if necessary and it also allowed her to track where you were moving, just in case. You could never be too careful when it came to Manhattan and Natasha’s past experiences only confirmed that. She trusted Vivienne as much as she was capable of trusting someone outside of family and Natasha had no doubt that she would return you in the same condition as you had left her. It just gave her that additional sense of peace that she needed to feel more relaxed. The drive into the city was spent by playing any car games that popped into your mind from counting cars to finding interesting license plate combinations.

“That’s a Volkswagen, right?” You inquired hopefully, staring intently at the car that was beside you. Natasha glanced to the side over your head to see the car in question.

“I think it’s a Ford”, she mused, focusing her gaze back on the road.

“How can you tell? Last time the red car was a Volkswagen”, you argued.

“You have to look at the brand logo in the front and back”, she explained, switching lanes to pass the car in the front that was going too slow for the highway.

Upon entering the streets of Manhattan Natasha found a good parking lot on Fifth Avenue near the American Girl Place where you had agreed to meet up with the Davies for your day in the city. You couldn’t wait to see Makena despite having spent the entire week with her at school, but it was different in your free time because there was no stupid, boring school work to do and you would get to go shopping and have lunch at a restaurant of your choice. You hopped out of the car, making sure you had your fancy, little purse that you had picked out for yourself to have something to carry your phone and wallet in. It also happened to compliment your outfit very well and it made you feel like a real grownup, kind of like your mother who had also brought a purse with her.

“Hi, Makena!” You yelled from nearly ten yards away, waving enthusiastically, Makena’s face brightening up at the sight of you.

“Hi, Y/N!” She ran toward you, engulfing you in a huge hug once she was close enough. The giggles were immediate, the sound of overjoyed laughter reaching all the way to Vivienne’s ears as she slowly walked toward you to greet Natasha before she would have to leave.

“Natasha”, she nodded firmly, a small smirk playing on her lips. Vivienne was a very elegant, proper woman, her pristine manners often coming off as uptight, but once she opened her mouth her sweet voice disproved any prejudices one might have made about her.

“Viv”, Natasha hummed back, leaning a bit closer to press her cheek against Vivienne’s in a brief kiss as a greeting. “And you”, she chuckled, welcoming Makena into a hug. They exchanged a couple words while you and Makena goofed around by the front door until you got permission to enter the store, leaving the adults outside to discuss the essentials.

“I’ll text you if there’s any change in plans”, Natasha assured, glancing at the watch around her wrist. Vivienne gave her a knowing smile.

“Go have your fun. I’ll take care of the youth”, she said in a tone that Natasha recognized as teasing. She rolled her eyes in response.

“I gave her some cash to have her own money, but if she runs out you’re only allowed to buy her food with it. I’m trying to teach her some finances. I’ll pay you back though”, Natasha assured even though neither of them had a problem with spoiling the children, both of them wealthy enough to spare a couple bucks for fun experiences.

“Nonsense, you paid last time when the girls were out. It’s my turn”, she countered, a sweet smile on her lips, her hand reaching for her bicep. “Enjoy your day off. Take all the time you need”, she mused knowingly, Natasha offering her a genuine smile.

“Thank you. Have fun with the girls. Y/N is packed with energy today, but she might crash in a few hours, probably just in time for lunch”, Natasha chuckled, already taking a few steps back so she wouldn’t make herself late by getting stuck with Vivienne.

“We’ll figure it out. Get going now”, Vivienne huffed, nearly having to usher Natasha into the streets to get rid of her. She then turned on her heels and followed you and Makena into the store.

Anytime you were in the big city you absolutely had to go check out the American Girl Doll store no matter how you weren’t getting any toys, but that day was different. You and Makena would get to pick out whatever accessories you could find that were within budget, at least for you. Natasha and you had been practicing smart ways to use money for a good while now and you would finally get to put all that important knowledge to use. So not only were you getting a new accessory for your gorgeous doll that you had gotten as a special little treat a few years back, you were also buying it with your very own money from your savings. You didn’t have any impressive amounts of money in your wallet, a couple ten dollars bills in your purse. You had counted your money before leaving to get an idea of how much you actually had which would then help you in the store when choosing what you could afford. It was kind of fun, but it never saved you from disappointment because there were always things that you would have rather had that were outside of your budget. But you had figured that that’s where the lesson lay: you couldn’t have anything you wanted. Additionally, Natasha had taught you to really think about how much you wanted something before you bought it and you had learned the hard way that impulse shopping was never as fun as it felt in the moment, always reminded of the time you had bought a crappy but huge lollipop instead of a soft serve cone on a hot Summer’s day.

You and Makena browsed the store together, not really paying attention to Vivienne who was just trying to make time pass by judging the architectural decisions made in the interior of the building, making observations as a habit from her line of work. She looked rather bored but it didn’t bother you and Makena at all, much more interesting things occupying your minds.

“Y/N! You have to see this”, Makena exclaimed from somewhere amongst the other excited, little girls who were drooling after the expensive toys. Her shoulder-length coil twists appeared in your line of sight, a huge smile on her face as she grasped your hand in her own to tug you through the group of girls to the other side where a beautiful kitchen set up was presented. Your jaw fell open, Makena giggling knowingly. “It’s so cool”, she said in awe, your widened eyes turning to her.

“It’s got everything!” You cheered in excitement, getting closer to the display to see all the gorgeous details that you could have studied for hours, your hand still holding onto Makena’s, prompting her to follow suit.

“We have to buy it”, Makena stated firmly. “How much is it?”

“Um, I think it says $275.00”, you muttered, peering at the price tag.

“And how much do you have?”

“Thirty-three dollars and five cents”, you sighed, casting a longing look at the stocked up fridge and pie-filled oven.

“I have a fifty, but I can ask if mama would give me more”, she suggested, the look on your face brightening up.

Vivienne said no and you had to move on from the incredibly tempting kitchen set up to find something that was more in the price range of your budget. It proved to be much more difficult than you had initially thought, the store filled with the priciest things the company had to offer, your hopes of finding something cheaper starting to die down. Somehow every single vehicle, diner, and boutique set cost well over a hundred dollars. You nearly lost your mind when you found a baking set with trays, cookie cutters, a stand mixer, and a rolling pin, upset that you wouldn’t get to buy the sixty-dollar set so you could showcase it to Wanda who you knew would absolutely love it. There were far too many things that you would have wanted, yet so little money, Makena seeming to have the same problem as you.

“Have you found anything?” You asked hopefully, Makena shaking her head.

“No, most stuff I found was boring. I don’t want a pet for Kiki. She already has two dogs”, she explained, coming to stand beside you.

“Yeah, all the super cool stuff is so expensive”, you lamented, looking around the store wistfully. “I did see a breakfast set for $48 if you’re interested. You could afford it.”

“Really? Where?”

And so the search for the affordable accessories continued, Vivienne counting the floor tiles in the shop to make the time pass faster. She could’ve done work on her phone but she had decided to take a proper break for the day, wanting to actually enjoy her rare day off, but suddenly a couple calls considering the newest design for Manhattan wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world. But she let you have your fun, recognizing that it was an important and crucial part of your exciting day. An hour and forty-five minutes later you all left the store, carrying your small, red paper bags out of the store. You had decided on a breakfast tray for bed with waffles and tea, Makena having bought a different breakfast set with pans and a stove. You walked down to Fifth Avenue, intending to continue your shopping spree but a good twenty minutes later Makena was complaining about a blister on her foot and you were whining about a rumbling stomach. You stopped at St. Patrick’s Cathedral for a moment to nurse Makena’s foot, Vivienne adjusting the heel of her sneaker to ease some of the discomfort Makena was feeling while you marveled at the tall, white towers of the cathedral, in awe of the detail in its decorative outside. You had been inside the building with Natasha a while back and you knew it was just as gorgeous from the inside as well.

The restaurant of your choice ended up being Rockefeller Potbelly because it was easy and quick, and the nearest restaurant that wouldn’t cause anyone a headache. It was perfectly casual and getting to admire the Rockefeller center on your way in was a positive addition. You got yourself a pizza melt sandwich, Makena got a Mama’s meatball one, and Vivienne chose an Avo Turkey. For dessert you and Makena shared a chocolate brownie cookie the size of your hand.

Time just seemed to fly by, the day passing in a blur no matter how much you wished to prolong it, but eventually all things had to come to an end and so your fun day in the city was over and you were headed right back to where you had met the Davies in front of the American Girl Place. You crossed the street, you and Makena’s joint hands swinging between you, Vivienne following closely behind to keep an eye on you during rush hour, making sure you didn’t get mangled by anyone. You had spotted your mother from the other side of the street, noticing her red hair with ease, but what really caught your attention was the fact that she wasn’t alone like you had expected her to be. Your brows drew into a frown as you watched the pair walk slowly to the store front, the woman accompanying Natasha receiving a kiss on her cheek, just like Vivienne had, before she continued her way down the street, leaving Natasha behind to wait for you.

“There you are”, she cheered softly once you were close enough Natasha’s hands reaching for you to tug you into her embrace, a waft of someone else’s perfume intruding your nose, but you didn’t really think much of it.

“Hi, mom”, you chuckled when she kissed your cheek repeatedly, forcing her to stop by pulling away. “Who was that?” You asked in curiosity, glancing down the street to where the woman had disappeared.

“Just someone from work”, she hummed, her fingertips brushing over some of your hair. She was in a really good mood, better mood than she had been in the car, her cheeks tinted a gentle rose, a permanent smile on her face.

“I have to show you what I bought!” You stated in excitement, moving on without so much as a thought for the mystery woman.

“Why don’t you show me at home, dorogaya (darling)?” Natasha suggested, knowing that it was better to get home first and then open up the package so you wouldn’t lose any of the pieces to the streets or into the car.

“Fine”, you sighed dramatically, your attention shifting back to Makena so you could spend the very last minutes of your city date with her while Vivienne and Natasha talked.

Chapter 34: Show and Tell

Chapter Text

Everyone in the classroom started clapping unanimously as Thomas gave them one more look at the beautiful rock that he had found from the Appalachian mountains on his summer vacation. The class seemed rather bored by something as mundane as a rock but it held significance to Thomas and that was all that mattered. The teacher looked very pleased by his small presentation for Show and Tell as she approached him, her hand patting his shoulder briefly, a string of praises falling from her lips. You observed her rather intensely, still getting used to the person who was going to be your new class teacher for middle school. It was your second day of sixth grade and the class was filled with new faces, people you had never seen in your life, people you hadn’t known existed. The only person who you did recognize was Makena who was seated all the way on the other side of class as far away from you as the room allowed. Savannah had gone into a different middle school, one that was more prestigious and high-class, but Natasha and Vivienne had thankfully agreed to put you into the same school after figuring out how to make it work for both families.

Your eyes followed the teacher as she called another student to the front to present. She was older than your mother and had a rounder figure with her hair in a loose braid that gave her a very casual look. She wore neat clothes, but had clearly added some color to make it more fun either for the class or for herself. You couldn’t tell yet because you had only seen her twice. You watched the way her hands moved, followed her mannerisms carefully, noting anything that felt significant to her character. You didn’t know why you did it. Maybe you were just that bored, but it also came very naturally to you. It was comforting to be fully aware of everyone and everything, your observant eyes darting around the class to find the next victim of your scrutinizing gaze, although you did do your best to go unnoticed, knowing it was impolite to stare. You seemed to fall into a daze of some sort, far too focused on the students around you as they listened to whoever was speaking. You didn’t care who it was or what they were saying because it held no significance to you. There had been a time when you had felt excited for middle school, but once you realized that everything had to change in order for you to be there, you had decided that it wasn’t as fun as you had thought. Although it might have been too early to say.

The intrusively loud clapping drew you back into the moment, your eyes snapping to the girl who had just finished presenting, holding an arts project of some sorts in her hands. It was kind of mediocre but you figured you couldn’t have done any better so you brought your hands together, joining the clapping. You glanced at Makena on the other side of the class, receiving a longing look from her. You knew that look. She would’ve wanted to say something to you. Her brows drew into a frown and she gave you a small pout right as the teacher called her name. You saw the strike of panic in her, the tips of her fingers playing with the paper in her hands, the corners of it slightly crumpled up. All you could do was offer her an encouraging smile and a small thumbs up. She tried to smile back at you but she was too nervous to smile properly, giving you a small grimace instead as she reluctantly slid out of her seat and went into the front. She looked awfully scared, downright terrified, her small hands trembling like leaves in the wind. You caught her gaze, trying to smile at her but you felt yourself grow increasingly more worried the longer she remained quiet. You waved your hand just enough to catch her attention, pointing at yourself, hoping she would understand what you were trying to say to her. Look at me, you mouthed, the teacher glancing your way. Makena nodded nearly imperceptibly, glancing down at the paper in her hands.

“I’m gonna read a p-poem that my grandma loves. It’s called, um.” She glanced down at the paper to confirm what she was going to say, her eyes returning to you. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, and- and it’s by Robert Frost.” Her voice was fairly even as spoke, but you could sense the distress from a mile away. “Whose woods are these I think I know”, she began, gaining some confidence in her words. You knew she wouldn’t have needed the paper at all because she knew the poem by heart. Her grandma had read it to her almost every night up until her death a couple years before. Makena carried on, reciting the lines, pronouncing every word carefully in the fear of messing up.

“Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year” She was halfway through the poem, her words coming out at a faster pace. She wanted it to be over already. For a moment you thought she was going to burst into tears, your mind suddenly flooded with the memories regarding her grandma’s passing, but she kept going in determination.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.” She let out a small sigh, putting the sheet of paper down, waiting for the students to start their clapping, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. A smile spread on your face as you joined the applause.

“Very well done, Makena!” The teacher stated encouragingly, clearly thoroughly pleased by her performance. You felt a surge of excitement and relief on Makena’s behalf, a sense of pride taking over you. She returned into her seat, smiling from across the room to you, aching to leave her desk to come sit next to you instead, but she was too timid in nature to do such a thing, especially in a classroom so unfamiliar. You found it hard to focus on the upcoming presentations when you frankly had no interest in most of the kids from you class, finding them rather insignificant when you would have wanted to talk to Makena and tell her how well she had succeeded in her poetry reading, besides it would have been so much more fun to make comments about everyone else’s presentation to her. Your turn came toward the end of the class. You were used to being at the tail end of every alphabetical list because of your last name, but your turn did finally come.

You hopped off your stool, feeling slightly nervous and aware of the fact that you were introducing yourself to a whole new set of people who you were going to be stuck with for the next three years, but you were also relatively confident for your age, finding the task rather simple. You were going to show them your object and tell them what it was and why you had chosen it. That was all. You took your backpack with you, standing in front of the class as you pulled out the pair of batons that peeked from the opening of your backpack, showing the weapon to the class, joining the two sticks to form one long electroshock weapon.

“My mom is a superhero”, you started, hearing someone chuckle in the back of the class but you tried not to let it bother you. “And these are her batons.” You announced, feeling your pride start to waver in front of the couple dozen kids who all looked as uninterested as you had a few minutes ago. There were a couple girls in the front who seemed overly interested, like they were pretending. “If you guys have ever heard of the Avengers you might know what I’m talking about. These were used in the battle of Sokovia against Ultron”, you explained, standing slightly awkwardly in front of everyone, not sure what to say about the weapon because you hadn’t practiced at all and had barely even planned what you wanted to say. You just assumed you would know.

“These were used by the real Black Widow and they can be very powerful if you know how to use them right. They can be extended 1.5 times their length and locked together from the ends like this.” You demonstrated the move, twisting the two pieces apart from each other, giving the one in your dominant hand a little spin to show off just a tiny bit. “But they can also be folded down so that they’re easier to carry and they can be attached to the Black Widow’s belt at the back.” You folded them up as small as they would go. “My favorite part is this…” You ignited the batons, stark blue electricity lighting up the room as the loud crackle of it alerted every single kid in the glass, a good chunk of the boys suddenly much more interested. A pleased smile spread on your face as you swung the sticks slightly to enhance the effect and of course to show off but never too much to avoid coming off as co*cky. “These can take down robots and aliens, whatever you need”, you assured, turning the electricity off once you noticed the wary look on your teacher’s face, a slight smirk still lingering on your lips.

“I chose this object ‘cause I think my mom is super cool and she means the world to me”, you concluded with a slight nod, the students starting their automatic clapping.

“Alright! Now we know not to mess with you”, the teacher said jokingly but she did seem a bit distraught with your object of choice as she neared you by the desk. “Any questions? Comments?” She asked turning to the class to observe their reaction as well, a couple hands rising up instantly. “Go ahead, dear. What’s your name?”

“I’m Laurie. So are you saying your mother is the Black Widow?” He asked in a slightly condescending tone, eyeing you intensely, clearly not believing you.

“Yes”, you nodded, a couple more hands shooting up, someone scoffing “Yeah, right” from the back of the class.

“Go ahead. State your name first”, the teacher said, pointing to a girl in the front.

“Mary-Ann. Why would she have a child?” She asked in genuine confusion but it still hurt nonetheless.

“Why not?” You shrugged.

“Isn’t she still doing superhero stuff?” She continued.

“Yeah, on and off.” Mary-Ann nodded hesitantly, not seeming convinced but the teacher moved on to other awaiting questions.

“I’m Carlos and I wanna know where you got your cosplay. Those are so cool!” You frowned at his words.

“No, they’re real.”

“How much were they?” Another kid asked, opening his mouth without permission, the teacher giving him a pointed look. “I’m Josh”, he smirked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t buy them. Tony Stark made them”, you explained, a bunch of teasing chuckles and giggles erupting from various parts of the classroom.

“You know Tony Stark?” Someone scoffed in disbelief.

“Alright, thank you so much Y/N. Very impressive presentation. You can go back to your seat”, the teacher intervened, noticing that the tone of the questions was rapidly turning disparaging. She rubbed her hand over your upper back to guide you into the direction of your desk, already calling for the next student to present. You were more annoyed than offended by the comments from your classmates. How could they be so dumb? It was very obvious that you weren’t faking anything. The costume stores that sold batons of any kind didn’t sell anything with real electroshock waves, you would know because you had wanted to dress up as your mother when you were nine and had insisted on having a costume as accurate as possible. One of the kids continued to stare at you even though you had already sat down. He had a blank face and spikey hair that had been styled with too much gel. You looked back at him, holding his gaze until he caved and focused his attention back to the front of the class. You glanced at Makena who gave you a slightly apologetic frown. Thankfully, the everlasting lesson finally came to an end and you were allowed to go outside for recess, a flush of relief going through you as you breathed in the late summer air.

“Hey Pinocchio!” Someone shouted, very obviously calling for your attention despite your lack of connection with the moniker he had used. You spun around to see a boy who you didn’t know, but had seen in your class, his friends following a couple steps behind him. You frowned, glancing at Makena who just shrugged, clearly growing agitated by the hostility that they exuded with their infuriating smirks.

“What do you want?” You asked bluntly, not caring for any kind of pleasantries when you could already tell they had nothing nice to say to you.

“You seriously think your mom is Black Widow, don’t you?” He asked in a demeaning manner, wanting to see if you were really going to stand behind your lie.

“I don’t think so. It’s a fact”, you huffed.

“You’re full of sh*t.” You raised your brows at his words.

“What more proof do you need?”

“I want you to admit you’re lying. The Avengers don’t have kids.”

“What do you know? You’ve never even met them”, you chuckled.

“Neither have you.”

“How would you know that?” You challenged, your tone turning annoyed.

“Oh, come on. There’s no way”, one of the boys groaned.

“You’re crazy. Your real parents must really suck for you to be so delusional”, the first boy continued.

“She’s telling the truth. I’ve met her many times”, Makena spoke up, taking a step closer to you, receiving doubtful looks.

“Right.” He said blankly. “And why would you want a murderer as your mother?” You felt Makena tense beside you. She knew you were about to lose your patience.

“She’s not a murderer”, you grumbled, your brows drawing into a frown, fingers tightening into a fist.

“A killer then. Potato, potato”, he mumbled indifferently. “You can’t deny it.”

“Maybe not but what do you care?“ He really had no other intention than to tease you and you could tell.

“Or are you a killer too?”

“You wanna find out for yourself?” You shot back, Makena’s fingers wrapping around your wrist as if to hold you back.

“Miss Romanoff!” Your head whipped to the side to see who had called your name, your teacher approaching you, carrying your backpack. “I’d like to have a word with you.” She announced, the group of kids in front of you casually leaving you alone as if they hadn’t just been harassing you.

“About what?”

“I’m sending you home”, she said apologetically, your jaw going slack.

“What? Why?”

“Come on, I’ll walk you out”, she hummed, nodding toward the school gates. You turned to look at Makena, giving her an annoyed sneer.

“I’ll see you tomorrow”, you mumbled, earning a nod in response before you went after the teacher who was already slowly heading for the gates.

“See ya”, she whispered, her face falling at the fact that she would have to spend the rest of the day alone. Your teacher turned to look at you, handing you your backpack, the batons poking out from the top.

“I’m sending you home because you brought a taser to school”, she stated evenly.

“Batons”, you corrected. “Were you even listening during my presentation?” You asked with a hint of snark in your tone, starting to really get annoyed by everyone’s attitude.

“We have a strict no-weapons policy where not even scissors are allowed on the premises unless provided by the teacher and staff”, she continued without reacting to your comment, keeping up her professional tone. “Do you understand?”

“Yeah”, you muttered, staring ahead angrily, a black car pulling up at the front. Great.

“Good. Now the year has just begun so I won’t suspend you, and I believe you didn’t have any ill intentions. Just… don’t let it happen again”, she concluded, opening the gate for you and ushering you to the street, the passenger side window rolling down, Natasha’s stern face appearing in your line of sight. She nodded a greeting to the teacher but by the looks of it they had already spoken on the phone and there was nothing to add. You yanked the car door open, not giving your teacher a single glance as you slumped into your seat, tugging the seatbelt across your middle. You didn’t dare to look at Natasha either, your gaze fixed ahead.

“Goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope you talk about this at home”, the teacher said encouragingly, clearly sensing the tension in the car.

“Oh, we’ll talk. Thank you for everything”, Natasha stated, giving her another look before rolling up the window. You played with your fingertips, looking down at your hands, waiting for the scolding that was bound to come your way.

“Y/N Romanoff.” She called your attention, raising her voice a bit to really let you hear the disappointment in her tone. You didn’t look at her, too nervous to do so. “Look at me”, she ordered, your gaze snapping up at her in an instant. “What were you thinking?” She asked, her eyes moving down to the backpack between your feet. She grabbed the batons, yanking them roughly out of the bag to get a better look at the weapon of your choice. She ran her hand over the stick, studying the surface, recognizing the older version of her batons, mind flooded with a couple not-so-pleasant memories. “So, let me get this straight. You brought unpredictable, out-of-use, war weaponry to your class Show and Tell?” She asked, really emphasizing her words to make you realize just how unhinged it sounded. “Only for me to receive a call during a meeting to get informed that you brought a taser to school and demonstrated its use in front of the whole class.” She definitely didn’t sound appreciative of your actions, your eyes moving away from her and back to your hands.

“Do you realize how powerful those electroshocks are? Any one of you little fools could’ve been dead in seconds.” Yes, you did know that but you knew how to use them well enough to not kill yourself or anyone else. How dumb did she think you were?

“Why didn’t you ask me first?” Her eyes turned to you, head co*cking to the side a bit to try to gain your attention back.

“Because you would’ve said no.”

“Exactly.” She hummed quietly, her hand finding the engine button to start the car, a soft whir informing you that the car was on. She steered the vehicle onto the street, driving off, your eyes catching a glimpse of Makena who was still standing in the same spot, talking to some girl you didn’t know, an additional rush of anger going through you. What a stupid day.

Natasha remained silent for most of the ride. The radio wasn’t on and neither was the air conditioning, only leaving the silence to be filled by the loud cars outside and the hum of the highway. You thought about the day and the presentations, cursing the teacher for many, many things, looking for more reasons to curse her in your head. Not only was your teacher a killjoy and a loser, she had also sat you so far away from Makena that she might as well have put an entire ocean between you to keep you apart. You briefly wondered if she knew that you were friends and had done it on purpose, considering adding evil to the list of adjectives you could use for your new teacher. You would have to come up with something because you were damned if you were going to sit the whole semester away from her.

“Mom, can you teach me sign language?” You asked suddenly, Natasha giving you a look of disbelief for even daring to ask.

“No”, she countered bluntly.

“Why not?” You groaned in annoyance, giving her a rather murderous glare.

“You brought a lethal weapon to school!” She reminded you curtly.

“Yeah, well…” You really didn’t have much to say for yourself. She had every right to shove that in your face. “I wanna learn. You wouldn’t deny a poor child the right to learn, would you?” You reasoned, batting your eyelashes at her, trying your best to guilt her into teaching you. She scoffed in amusem*nt, the sound coming out condescending. She knew where you got that from and as adorable as it was to have you try to manipulate her, she was not having it.

“Cut the sh*t, Y/N.” She gave you a pointed look that made you roll your eyes. “What do you need it for?” She asked despite her denying, curious about what your intentions were.

“There’s a deaf kid in my class”, you lied, attempting a different approach. Natasha chuckled.

“I bet there is.” She knew you were lying. She could tell and it was painfully obvious to her. “And does her name happen to be Makena?” You remained quiet, your face forming into a displeased sulk as you crossed your hands over your chest, staring at the car you were passing by.

“No”, you grumbled, Natasha’s smile only widening. It angered you that she was so observant and able to read you like an open book no matter how you tried to manipulate what she was seeing. You decided to give her the silent treatment to hopefully make her feel as bad as you were feeling, but it vexed you that you didn’t know how she was able to do it because it seemed that no matter what you said or how you said it she always knew if you were not telling the truth.

“How can you tell?” You asked suddenly after a long moment of you sulking in silence, curiosity eventually getting the best of you.

“Tell what?”

“That I’m lying.”

“I can just tell”, she hummed, the car slowing down as she stopped at a red light.

“Yeah, but from what?” You groaned, unsatisfied by her answer.

“From that guilty little face of yours”, she chuckled, turning to look at you, pinching your chin with her thumb and forefinger, a small smirk on her lips. You pushed her hand away, letting out an annoyed whine.

“What is it? Why don’t you believe it?” She laughed again, rolling her eyes in good nature.

“I’m not teaching you to become a better liar”, she countered, pressing her foot down on the gas pedal just as the light switched to green.

“You’re so against education today”, you muttered bitterly.

“And whose fault is that?” She challenged, glancing your way only to receive a sneer from you in return.

“It was so stupid anyway. They didn’t even believe me, called me a liar. I bet they’re making fun of me as we speak”, you huffed, finally allowing yourself to feel the disappointment and slight embarrassment for your actions. You should’ve just gone with boring rocks and ugly art projects like the other kids had.

“Didn’t believe what?” Natasha asked, a hint of concern in the frown that appeared on her face at the change in your tone. You were lowering your defense, getting warmed up to the trusting bond you shared despite Natasha’s initial anger with you.

“These were for Show and Tell”, you hummed, kicking the backpack where the batons sat.

“Yeah, the teacher mentioned”, she nodded evenly.

“The reason I chose them was ‘cause we were supposed to bring something meaningful to us and…” You paused, feeling a gentle ache in your chest, the upset that you were feeling really starting to kick in. You hadn’t meant any harm, you just wanted people to know how much you adored your mother.

“What, honey?” She asked carefully, prompting you to continue.

“I just wanted to show them how cool you are”, you huffed, staring intently at the batons by your feet. “They laughed. And this one boy called me Pinocchio, then crazy, and then delusional.” You let out a sigh, recalling the conversation. “Then he said you’re a murderer.” The silence hung heavy after that, Natasha’s hands tightening around the steering wheel as she reigned in her initial spark of anger and swallowed it down. You didn’t deserve to witness the rage she felt for the actions of someone else.

“I’m sorry they were so mean to you”, she lamented, offering her hand across the console box for you to hold.

“I told him you’re not… a murderer”, you assured quietly.

“Thank you, baby”, she whispered, despite disagreeing with your response. She was what she was and no one could change her past no matter how she would have wanted to. She just wished you wouldn’t have to deal with the skeletons in her closet that had been revealed to the entire world. “I really appreciate the gesture, but you should have asked first. We could have figured out something else, something much safer, for you to bring to class”, she reasoned, her thumb stroking the side of your hand.

“I know. I’m sorry”, you hummed, impatiently waiting for her to park the car inside the garage so you could finally get out and hopefully find your room to sulk in for the rest of the day.

“You’re forgiven, malyshka (baby), but don’t touch my weapons, or anyone else’s for that matter. It’s not safe for you nor for the people around you. It’s just not smart, okay?” She concluded, earning a mere nod from you, but she could tell you were listening. “Do you understand the kind of damage you could have caused?” She asked firmly, looking at you with demanding eyes. “I need you to understand how badly this could’ve gone.”

“I know, mommy”, you whispered apologetically, looking up at her with sad eyes.

“Good.” Natasha offered you a small smile, her hand coming up to stroke your cheek softly. She could tell you were upset and ashamed, and despite her frustration with your actions she felt empathy for you, feeling the need to offer you some comfort. “It’ll be alright, sweetheart. You’ll know better in the future”, she assured you, kissing your forehead before allowing you to exit the car.

You spent the rest of the day in your room, wanting to be alone. You didn’t do much, your eyes fixed on the TV screen in your room, following remotely what was going on in the reality show that was on. It was kind of funny to watch their messy lives unfold, a hint of a smile appearing on your face every now and then even if you were actively trying to prolong your sulking. You texted Makena every recess to keep her company, wanting to know if people were still making fun of you or not, but other than that you were glad to be home instead of math class, although you knew you were going to have to do all the exercises at some point in order to catch up with the others. You sighed, rolling onto your stomach to hide your face in a pillow. Somewhere between your racing thoughts you lost consciousness, falling asleep, the early morning alarm finally catching up to you, causing you to sleep through dinner and well into the evening until Natasha finally woke you up to get some food into you around eight o’clock. She had checked up on you at six but when she had found you asleep she had decided to let you sleep off the frustration and disappointment that she knew you were experiencing.

You weren’t exactly excited for the next school day, but you had no other choice but to attend your classes. No one spoke to you when you entered the classroom, but you did receive a couple vapid looks that made you feel slightly uneasy, like they were silently judging you. Determined not to let their opinions affect you, you carried on with your day as you would have normally. No one said anything to you, no one really tried to talk to you, other than Makena of course. You had almost expected people to tease you or ask more questions but nobody really seemed to care, or then they just found you so weird that they would’ve rather stayed away from you. Whatever the case was, you felt excluded and different, a wave of jealousy flushing through you every once in a while when you would see one of the girls from your class talk to Makena. Why did nobody want to talk to you?

Your day was frustrating and lonely, especially because you had to sit so far away from Makena who was making new friends with the two girls who sat in front of her, causing your mood to plummet in record time as you imagined how she would build an amazing friend group in middle school and you would eventually be left alone. By the time holidays came around you would probably just see her in the hallway and be lucky if she even greeted you when surrounded with her cool, popular friends. You allowed your imagination to race because the final class of the day was geography and you could not have cared any less about what the teacher was explaining. You drew circles into your notebook, alternating between that and coloring in the blocks created by the lines of the paper. Maybe you would become the class freak, one of those weird kids that sat alone at lunch, like in all the movies you had seen. Although you weren’t that weird, at least not in your opinion. Sure, you were different in some ways, but so were other people. Everyone was different, so why should you be any weirder than the other kids? You sighed, actively trying to think louder so you couldn’t hear the teacher, although you weren’t that pleased with your own thoughts either but it was better than rocks and foliage.

You had zoned out completely, the sound of the school bell snapping you back to reality rather harshly. You looked around the classroom, kids stuffing their backpacks as fast as possible as the teacher did her best to inform everyone about the homework she hadn’t had the time to properly assign. The door to the class room opened as you started to collect the items on your desk to shove into your bag, listening to the teacher greet someone, the loud chatter of your classmates drowning out her words. You minded your business, zipped your backpack, shoving your chair under the desk, before turning around to head to the door. You halted in your tracks when you saw her easily recognizable red hair, an incredulous smile appearing on your face. Natasha’s gaze turned to you briefly as she spoke to the teacher, a hint of a smile on her face as she slowly excused herself from the conversation, making her way to you, a couple hushed comments sounding from some of the kids who had slowed down as well at the presence of an unexpected visitor.

“No way. Is it really her?” You heard someone hiss, a couple more comments being whispered into the sudden silence of the classroom. “She wasn’t lying.”

“Wait, oh my god.” Another girl gasped.

“What the f-“

“Language, Jordan”, the teacher reminded him before he could quite get out what he was trying to say.

“Yo, Max, am I trippin’?” One of the kids asked, turning to his friend.

“Bro, ain’t no way”, the other boy beside him countered, clearly flabbergasted out of his mind.

Natasha approached you casually, just like any other day, swinging her hand over your shoulders to pull you into a brief side-hug, her lips pressing down on your forehead.

“How was your day?“ She asked nonchalantly, not paying mind to anyone else as she slowly walked you out of the classroom, a slight smirk on her face.

“sh*t”, you admitted, her brows furrowing.

“sh*t? How could that be?“ She inquired in disbelief, her arm tightening around your shoulders in a comforting squeeze as you walked down the hall.

“My classmates are assholes”, you moaned, leaning more into her touch.

“You just need to get warmed up to them”, she said encouragingly, knowing you weren’t the most extroverted person out there, just like her. “Take your time. It’s only the first week of school”, she reminded you, kissing the top of your head.

“They think I’m weird”, you stated, having come to the very conclusion during your geography class.

“Let them think you’re weird. Makes you all the more interesting”, she huffed. “I’ll be damned if I raised you to be boring”, she added teasingly, making you chuckle, her lips pressing down on your forehead repeatedly.

Chapter 35: The Davieses

Chapter Text

Your heart hacked in your chest, you couldn’t see nor hear properly as you tried to fervently follow your mother’s movements around the apartment, watching her dress up and gather her things. You sat still, forcing yourself to be still to avoid causing any disturbances in her schedule. Your hands were on your lap as you sat in an armchair in the corner of the living room, fingers fidgeting with each other to calm your nerves but you could feel yourself lose control, lose the battle to your anxiety. The next time Natasha walked into the kitchen for whatever she was looking for, your heart sank at the sight of her black suit and the sound of her heavy boots. Your chest hurt, your lower lip trembling violently as you stared ahead, trying not to let your tears fall.

“Y/N-baby?” Her voice came from somewhere a bit closer, shattering the dam that you had so carefully crafted to try to keep yourself together.

“Mommy”, you cried suddenly, forceful sobs coming from you in a rushed pace as you started to clamber up from the chair to get to her. “Mommy!” Natasha’s brows knitted together in a worried frown as she approached you, pulling you right into her arms, holding you so very tightly as you screamed and cried right in her ear.

“Shh, solnishka (sunshine), everything’s okay”, she whispered softly, petting the back of your head in gentle strokes, her arm tightening around your waist.

“Mommy, don’t go!” You wailed in very obvious despair. “Mommy!” You continued, ragged exhales and labored gasps making it difficult for you to communicate your issue to her.

“Honey, look at me, baby. Look at mommy”, she instructed, trying to pull back enough to see your face but your arms that were wrapped around her neck didn’t yield one bit.

“No!” You cried in horror, trying to hold onto her even tighter. Your sobs were excruciating, the kind she was only used to hearing from toddlers who couldn’t regulate their emotions in any way. The power behind your wails was so raw that you couldn’t do anything but cry in the only way you knew how, seemingly having regressed a good few years as you let out long screams that could be heard throughout the entire apartment.

“What if we breathe together? Let’s take a big breath”, she suggested softly, her soothing voice a stark contrast to the loudness of your yells. Her hand found your upper back, her fingers splaying out to cover as much of the area she could, pressing you down against her chest so that you were flush against her body. She took a deep breath, exaggerating the movement of her lungs to hopefully gain your attention. She exhaled deeply, allowing her lungs to compress the air out before inhaling again. “Mommy’s right here, angel”, she reminded you, continuing to breathe in a controlled and even manner as you hiccuped loudly.

“Mom-my”, you whined, much more quietly, tears still streaming down your face at a rather rapid pace, wetting her neck and leather suit.

“Shh, don’t try to talk yet”, she said, swaying you from side to side as she waited for the worst of it to pass, her hands offering you irreplaceable comfort by holding you close to the most important thing to you in the world. “Let’s wait for the feeling to ease up a little”, she hummed, stroking your hair, her lips kissing your shoulder as she continued to rock you. “It’s okay to just feel what you feel. I know it sucks, but it won’t be forever”, she assured you, the hand on your back moving slightly as she rubbed along your spine.

“Mommy”, you whimpered as if unable to say anything else at all. There were no words for the way you felt and mommy was the only thing that could soothe you and provide you comfort. “Mommy.”

“I know, kroshka (little one), mommy knows”, she lamented quietly, still holding you as tight as ever. She breathed in your scent, feeling your warmth against her as she tried to keep up the calm atmosphere. She knew why you were crying and she knew exactly what had led to your breakdown. She didn’t need you to tell her, or explain anything, she already knew. You were scared, terrified that she was going to leave and never come back. She could see it on your face every time she left the compound for work. She could feel it in the way you hugged and kissed her goodbye, unwilling to let go of her every single time. She could see it in the way you nearly cried from joy when she came back, sometimes you did cry, overwhelmingly relieved by her return. She could sense it in the way you never left her side afterwards, the way you followed her around like a lost puppy until you finally settled down into bed beside her, tucked tightly into her side. She knew that every time she set foot on a jet without you, you felt immense emotional distress, and lately it seemed to have only gotten worse.

“Stay”, you croaked suddenly after a moment of silence, your voice a bit more even since the sobs had nearly died down completely, Natasha sighing softly. She couldn’t stay. She had already promised to go on the mission and unfortunately it happened to be an important one that she couldn’t skip or find anyone to cover for her. She closed her eyes, wincing softly for what she was about to say, the brief idea of quitting her work flashing across her mind.

“Mommy can’t stay”, she whispered apologetically, brushing her other hand over your hair, carefully pulling you back to see her face. Your eyes were pooling with tears, lips swollen and glistening from snot that had dribbled down your nose.

“Please”, you whimpered nearly imperceptibly, your fists clutching onto the collar of her suit.

“Baby, I can’t. I made a promise”, she tried again, hoping you could understand that she had no choice but to go.

“Unmake it”, you grouched, looking up at her with the most heartbreaking puppy eyes that made Natasha’s whole body ache.

“Baby girl, I can’t break my promise”, she countered, her hand cupping your damp cheek, thumb smoothing over the tender skin.

“Why not?” You huffed angrily, your brows pulling into a frustrated frown.

“Because they need me. They need mommy’s help”, she explained, leaning closer to kiss your forehead.

“No”, you protested weakly. “I need you”, you reasoned desperately, gripping her so tightly it almost hurt.

“My sweet baby, mommy has to go to work”, she tried again, her fingers tucking your hair behind your ear.

“No”, you whimpered, leaning your head onto her shoulder, a couple more sobs falling from your lips.

“Nothing is gonna happen to me. I’ll be safe the whole time. The whole time. I promise, milaya (honey)”, she whispered, brushing her hand down your arm.

“Are you sure?” You asked again, pulling back, finding it hard to trust her because your anxiety and fear were so strong.

“I’m a thousand percent sure, darling”, she assured you with all the confidence she had in herself.

“Can you promise?”

“I can pinky promise, baby”, she hummed quietly, offering her pinkie finger to you, seeing the way you seemed to brighten up at the offer, both of you knowing that a pinky promise could never be broken, not ever.

“Yeah?” You asked, excitement flooding your tone, your other hand wiping off your tears as you hooked your pinkie finger with hers.

“Yes”, she nodded definitively. “Do you think you could be brave for mommy? Just for one day?” You eyed her for a moment, looking for the bravery that you so needed. You weren’t sure if you had it in you, but you definitely wished you did. You wished you could be brave for mommy, but you knew you couldn’t promise it.

“I can try”, you whispered in disappointment upon coming to the realization that you couldn’t control your emotions.

“That’s my girl”, Natasha said in encouragement. “Who do you want me to call in to babysit you? I’ll try to get you anyone you want. Whoever makes you feel the safest”, she suggested, seeing you frown as you put on your thinking face. It made her mouth quirk up in a smile. “Who would you want here?” She repeated, her hand brushing over your hair affectionately.

“Wanda, she’s like a backup mom”, you chuckled, making Natasha smile. It was very much true, especially with the way Wanda had always been there whenever Natasha couldn’t.

“We could also ask Viv and Makena if you could go over to their house. How does that sound? It could make you feel better to be away from home as well, or do you think it would make you more anxious?” She asked gently, trying to make the situation as comfortable and as easy for you as possible.

“We could have a sleepover!” You gasped in excitement.

“Yeah, give you something else to think about”, she hummed, caressing your tear-stained cheeks. “Do you want me to call Viv?” You nodded your head immediately, finding her suggestion very clever because if you weren’t at home waiting for her to come back you would be reminded less of the one time when she came back in worse shape than she had left. You would get to leave as well and you would both be gone for a day. You could be apart from your mother for a good while with no complications now that you were starting to be older, at least as long as you knew that Natasha wasn’t fighting aliens or evil men while she was away, which was why the arrangement had a really good chance of working out for you. It would save you from the agonizing waiting where the only distractions you would have were school and whoever babysat you. But at the Davies household you would have Makena and her siblings, loving Vivienne, and the ever-so-happy Doberman named Bruno.

And so Natasha called Vivienne and sent you over to their house with the help of Wanda. You packed your backpack quickly while Natasha gathered the last of what she needed for her mission. You said goodbye to her, clinging to Natasha as tight as you had in the living room during your anxiety attack, you even shed a few more tears before you were willing to let her go. She kissed and hugged you many, many times before her departure. She even kissed your arrow necklace, a habit she had gotten into over the years as a way to soothe you. She would kiss the necklace that rested over your upper chest as a way for you to carry her kiss with you wherever you went, and if you needed any additional comfort you could hold onto it, fidget with it, kiss it, anything that would bring you more comfort. You held the arrow in your fist the whole way to the Davieses’ house, quietly playing with it as Wanda tried her best to talk to you about something that could potentially ease your stress. It didn’t really work that well because all you could do was sit, but when the car finally pulled up to the suburban driveway and you got moving, you found it much easier to get out of your head and focus on something else.

“Bruno!” You giggled in excitement, the huge dog barking loudly as he ran to you in big strides across the lawn. He jumped up against you which he wasn’t allowed to do but you sometimes let him because it was extremely fun to fall down on the yard as he licked your face clean with his wet tongue.

“Bruno, no!” Makena snickered, running after him. “Bruno”, she cried, pushing him off you so you wouldn’t get trampled by his huge paws. His attention got stolen by Wanda who emerged from the car and he bounced off with his lanky frame to go greet the second guest while Makena helped you up onto your feet, pulling you into her embrace.

“What a lovely little boy you are”, Wanda crooned at the whimsical dog that clearly had a very puppy-like personality as he bounced and bounced, unable to settle properly beside her.

“Hello, dear”, Vivienne’s voice sounded from the porch. “Why don’t you get your stuff inside and wash your hands so you can come help Makena and me in the kitchen?” She ordered politely, prompting you to get inside as she waved Wanda a small greeting. They had never met each other and were clearly not intending to get acquainted more than that because all the essentials had been communicated through Natasha, but they did exchange numbers just in case of any emergency. You said goodbye to Wanda and headed inside with Makena, Bruno following in an instant when he saw anyone do anything along the lines of running.

“Ay, Y/N!” Marco, Makena’s teenage brother cheered as you ran past him, raising up his hand for a high five just in time for you to slap it before you had already sped past him.

“Y/N!” You heard Makena’s father Theodore, or Ted, exclaim upon seeing you two race past him on the living room arm chair where he was sitting with the newspaper.

“Hi, Mister Davies!” You shouted as you ran up the stairs, hot on Makena’s heels, some more barking coming from Bruno who couldn’t handle the excitement in the house.

“I’m so happy you came! Ah, I was so bored you have no idea!” Makena shouted with a bright smile on her face, struggling to keep her voice down when she was so happy to see you. “I was in the kitchen helping mom cook dinner cause I was so bored”, she bemoaned, making you giggle loudly.

“Now we can have the best sleepover ever”, you reasoned, tossing your backpack to the end of Makena’s large bed.

“What do you wanna do after dinner? I think we can take Bruno out if Marco or dad comes with us, and go to the park. Or then we can play with dolls. Did you bring Bonnie?” Makena blabbered her mouth off, very obviously unable to decide what exactly would be the most fun activity to do with you.

“Of course I did”, you nodded, pulling your American Girl doll out of your backpack.

“We’re definitely gonna have to play at some point”, she cheered, getting another nod of agreement from you.

“Oh, and maybe we can watch a movie tonight. Maybe mama will make us popcorn”, she mused out loud, weighing all the options you had for the night.

The Davies household was always packed with so much energy you forgot all about your home and the mission Natasha had ventured on. There was so much action, so much love, so much life that you didn’t have the time to worry about death and severe injuries when you were so thoroughly engaged in everything you did. You had a casual and comfortable dinner of lamb stew and tiny roast potatoes with the whole family, followed by a long walk to the park accompanied by Bruno and Ted. Finally toward the end of the night you two convinced Vivienne to make you some popcorn and put on a movie for you in the living room where eventually the whole family ended up lounging around for the evening until bedtime finally rolled around and Vivienne ushered Jackie and Alana to bed since they were the youngest and needed the most sleep. You and Makena were the next to go right after the end credits came on. Marco didn’t stay for too long after and Vivienne fell asleep on the couch while Ted made sure everyone had brushed their teeth and were tucked away in bed before 11pm which was definitely later than usual, but by no means abnormal.

You lay in the dark of Makena’s bedroom, chatting away as quietly as possible so you wouldn’t get told off for staying up so late. You were both in the same bed because it was far too big for Makena in the first place, but additionally you found immense comfort in the fact that you wouldn’t have to sleep alone on the floor for the night. You covered your mouth with the duvet as you giggled quietly, trying to muffle any sound you were making as Makena did the same, nothing but the burgundy of her bonnet visible in the dark as she hid her face into the pillow her head lay on. You always had something to talk about and especially recently with your new middle school friend group forming around you, you found yourselves often amidst gossip and drama that made you feel so grown up, like those girls you saw in high school movies.

“Then… then”, Makena giggled loudly, your hand flying in her face.

“Shh, shut up”, you snigg*red, trying to keep quiet yourself as Makena laughed silently, her mouth agape as her whole body ached from how much fun she was having.

“Trinity said- she said…”

“What?” You moaned impatiently as she burst into yet another fit of laughter.

“She said Darren has a crush on me”, she revealed in very obvious excitement. You blanked completely at such unexpected news, feeling your insides twist into knots, thankful that the darkness around you concealed the look on your face. You had seen Darren once or twice and he was nothing special, a very average 11-year-old boy who seemed at least nice. Looks-wise he wasn’t… well much of a looker. He had big ears and a goofy grin, but the way Makena was speaking about him told you that it didn’t bother her in the slightest. “Can you believe it? He has a crush on me!” She hissed, clearly ecstatic.

“What?” You gasped in feigned excitement because suddenly you noticed that all the enthusiasm you had earlier possessed had disappeared into thin air. “Do you like him like that?”

“Yes! Oh, yes! He is so adorable”, she squealed, staring at the ceiling with a giant grin on her lips. “And cool, and funny”, she continued, a pang of upset flushing through you. No, he wasn’t. He was boring. “Ah, don’t tell anyone I said this but I’d wanna kiss him. He makes my belly flutter”, she explained, knowing you’d never tell her business to anyone who it didn’t concern. You could barely hear what she was saying. It felt so absurd. You had never even thought about boys or thought about that moment when you would finally find yourselves boyfriends. It never crossed your mind, yet there Makena was gossiping about boys.

“What do you mean flutter?” You asked in confusion, turning your head to face her.

“You know, like butterflies”, she clarified, but you didn’t know, you didn’t know at all. “It tickles and it makes you feel all warm and fuzzy”, she continued. “Ugh, I just wish I knew how to kiss”, she lamented, letting out a long sigh. Kiss? She was moving so fast you were getting whiplash. Although Makena had always been a few steps ahead of you with things like that. She had even gotten her period already. She was so much more grown than you.

“Don’t you think you should talk to him first?” You countered carefully.

“We’ve talked”, she reasoned, earning a look from you.

“Maybe twice, dummy”, you laughed, shoving her gently.

“Well, it’s something!” She giggled, going quiet for a moment, the pure silence that followed making you realize that you were probably being much louder than you realized. “Look, you can say no, but could we kiss, for practice?” She asked suddenly, turning onto her side on the bed so she could see you better in the dark. Your eyes widened as you looked at her with a shocked expression, trying to process if you had heard her correctly.

“Um, yeah, I think so”, you responded without even realizing that you had made such a decision. “Right now?” Your heart hacked in your chest from excitement.

“Yeah”, she whispered, crawling closer to you, so close that your noses brushed together. It made you let out a nervous giggle, Makena doing the same.

“On three”, you suggested, Makena nodding firmly.

“One.”

“Two”, you counted.

“Three”, she mumbled, both of you leaning forward, your noses poking each other in the face as your lips connected for no more than a second. You never realized you could feel so much in a single second. Her lips were soft, so incredibly soft and warm that it took all your attention, your mind zeroing in on the gentle touch of her lips that suddenly made you so warm you were burning up under the covers. Makena giggled out of nerves, both happy and proud of your little achievement. “Now I know how to do it”, she whispered, but you couldn’t really process her excitement, just a little left behind in the moment.

The conversation died down slowly after, both of you yawning between every other word as the clock ticked quietly on Makena’s nightstand, the time already well past midnight. You were too exhausted from the emotional day to continue the conversation any longer, your eyelids drooping shut as you cuddled one of Makena’s squishmallows in your arms, your hand holding onto the arrow around your neck. The following morning when you woke up to the ruckus Alana and Jackie were making it was like nothing had ever happened in the darkness of her bedroom. Neither of you addressed the kiss, nor Darren, and you both just carried on with your day, going downstairs for breakfast. You had been over at Makena’s at least a thousand and one times and were more than used to the culture and customs of their household. You had scrambled eggs with tomato and onion paired with buttered toast for breakfast and that day it happened to be one of your lucky days because Vivienne had made Tom Brown which was a porridge-like dish that especially Jackie ate as the youngest of the family. She had found a strong liking to it during her weaning phase as a baby, although the entire family enjoyed the dish and ate it rather regularly. You had been introduced to it early on in your visits and you understood very well why they all liked it.

“Natasha called”, Vivienne began as you sat at the breakfast table, her hand sliding down your back in a gentle caress before she slid some eggs onto your plate, next to your toast that you had already nibbled on a bit. “She’s coming to pick you up in the afternoon”, she informed you, briefly kissing the top of your head before moving onto Makena who sat beside you.

“Did she sound okay?” You asked immediately, your question coming off strange to Vivienne because it sounded like you felt the need to take care of your mother.

“Yes, dear, she’s perfectly fine”, she assured you, knowing that you had intense anxiety at times regarding your mother’s line of work.

“Okay, good”, you hummed softly, turning around to see the kitchen counter, your eyes searching for a pot. “Vivienne, could I have some more Tom Brown, please?” You asked politely, offering your bowl to the woman who exuded luxury even on a casual Saturday morning in her emerald green, satin morning robe that was draped over her slim figure, her curls a bit more tousled than normally as a result of the long week she had had. Her face broke into a knowing grin as she took the bowl from you, scooping you some more of the light brown porridge, topping it off with evaporated milk while Makena and Alana were trying to sneak bites of buttered bread to Bruno who wasn’t supposed to be in the kitchen during mealtimes.

“Girls”, she said in a warning tone that you recognized from both her and Natasha, the sisters turning around to look at her with slightly widened eyes as they hid the tiny pieces of bread behind their backs. You glanced at Bruno who waited patiently by the kitchen entrance so that the girls would throw him more treats, saliva dripping down his snout and onto the floor. You felt slightly bad for him, but you would never want to anger Vivienne because quite frankly when she snapped she could be rather intense. Makena was used to her mother’s temper, but you would have never dared to test it, especially since you were not very familiar with harsh orders and comments, Natasha rarely even raising her voice at you.

You had spoken about it with Makena one time and you had learned that she found it weird that Natasha was always so calm and gentle with you. Vivienne was never loud, she didn’t yell orders at the top of her lungs, but she had a coldness to her tone whenever the kids misbehaved. It was harsh and definitive, and never in a million years would you have tried to retaliate against her, but Makena did not care about such a thing. The second Vivienne had turned around, the piece of bread in Makena’s hand flew across the kitchen for Bruno to catch right from the air, the loud smack of his mouth sounding in the kitchen. Vivienne turned around slowly, Alana already staring intensely at the eggs on her plate so that her mother wouldn’t think it was her who had misbehaved.

“Makena, let that be the last one”, she said coolly, clearly remaining a bit more gentle than what her kids were used to as a way to respect you and your presence. You were probably the reason they even dared to mess around in the first place. You found it rather comedic.

After breakfast you played outside in the crisp fall weather, the leaves slowly starting to change colors and fall to the ground in a huge sea of orange and brown. You played with Bruno and Alana whenever Makena didn’t usher her back inside to do whatever little kids did, despite Alana being just a couple years younger. You liked the girl a lot, she was fun and witty for someone so young and definitely brought a comedic element to the family dynamic. She had a tendency to slip some very creative insults your way whenever Makena didn’t include her in whatever you were doing. Sometimes you felt bad for Alana but that day wasn’t one of those days because you just wanted to be with Makena alone in the crowded fort you had built around the bushes in the yard where you pretended you were fairies. The playing session was heavily inspired by the eerie fog that surrounded you, the dark clouds above soon demanding you to leave by pouring down a heavy shower of rain on you. Bruno’s loud bark made you flinch as you undressed your outside clothes and put them to dry, the door to the house opening.

“Oh, my baby boy”, Natasha squealed very uncharacteristically from the front door, immediately kneeling down to welcome the enthusiastic greeting she received. “Hi, everyone!” She exclaimed a little louder, announcing her arrival knowing the house was full. You felt relief so intense your body had a physical reaction to her voice as you quickly kicked your shoes off and left them in the laundry room to go running to your mother. It was a little embarrassing but you missed her so much. “And look at that, my baby girl”, she chuckled upon your arrival, standing up, her arms opening for you in an instant as you sank into her hold. You wanted to cry so badly, her perfume engulfing you completely, strong arms squishing you against her warm body. It was ridiculous. She had been away from you for less than twenty-four hours. There was no reason for you to be such a wuss, yet you felt the tears escape against your will, your throat closing up.

“Mommy”, you whispered quietly, feeling so small, feeling the weight you had been carrying since she had left lift off your shoulders. You hadn’t even realized how scared you had been the whole time while distracted by the Davieses.

“What, baby?” She asked quietly, brushing her hand over your head, her lips pressing to the side of your face to kiss you a couple of times.

“I missed- missed you”, you whimpered, your arms tightening around her waist.

“I know, honey, I missed you too”, she hummed quietly, her other hand petting Bruno briefly as he pranced circles around the both of you. She cupped your face, pulling back from you enough to be able to see you, a soft smile appearing on her face as she wiped your tears with her thumbs. “You were so, so brave for me, malyshka (baby). You were so brave”, she assured you, her heart melting at the sad smile you gave her. She would have to talk to Ms Elsher again and possibly bring back your appointments, or even consider medication to soothe you enough. It wasn’t normal for an 11-year-old to be so worked up about her mother’s job.

“Natasha”, Vivienne said with a bright smile, her head peeking from the living room to greet her without properly invading your private moment. Natasha smiled at her, still holding you close. “Did you make it here alright?” She asked casually, prompting you to pull away. You didn’t want to act like a little child so you wiped your tears and tried to leave Natasha’s embrace, but her arms were unyielding, keeping you securely in the hug.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. The roads are still where they should be”, she joked, Vivienne rolling her eyes gently. “How’s your work been? I saw the new building in Lenox Hill. It’s starting to come together”, she hummed conversationally, stroking your hair as you allowed yourself to recharge yourself with her comfort.

“Oh, yeah, it’s coming along. They had to make some changes because someone ordered the wrong materials so I had to make some last minute design choices”, she chuckled, walking closer, settling to lean against the door frame of the entrance of the house, her hands dropping to her front to pet Bruno. You listened to their voices, finding yourself feeling a bit better than before, Natasha’s lips kissing the top of your head whenever she had the chance, her hand rubbing your back in long strokes. After a few more minutes her lips found your ear.

“Why don’t you and Makena go pack up your things?” She suggested quietly. “Go play for just a few more minutes, hm?” You nodded at her words, glancing shyly at Vivienne before going to retrieve Makena from the laundry room.

Thirty minutes later Natasha and Vivienne were still talking as you and Makena came downstairs, their lively chatter and laughter sounding throughout the entire first floor. You got dressed into your coat and soggy sneakers, waiting patiently by Natasha’s side so you could leave, but the time just kept on moving and the conversation had no end in sight. As another half an hour passed you took your outside clothes off and snuck back upstairs where you played and played without a single disturbance from anyone else. You even went into Marco’s room to play video games with him. You had never before been allowed to try the game he always played, the violent shooting game that you didn’t know the name of, but that time when you asked if you could try just once, he handed the controller to you and instructed you on how all of the keys worked so you would have some semblance of a chance against the AIs you were playing with. After that he agreed to play Mario Kart with you, Alana eventually lured in by the loud giggles and shouts that came from Marco’s room, the four of you racing for what felt like hours. It wasn’t that you wanted to leave by any means but you found it odd that it was taking so unbelievably long for Natasha to get her ass moving. It was already dinner time and there they were both standing by the door, talking and talking and talking. You weren’t sure how there could even be anything more to talk about.

“Oh, look at the time”, you heard Vivienne chuckle, her voice carrying well up the stairs and to Marco’s room that was the first room to the right when you walked upstairs. “Natasha-dear, just come inside. Stay for the evening”, she pleaded, the rustling that followed most likely caused by Natasha shrugging off her coat. “We’re having angwamo.”

“That sounds wonderful. Do you want me to help you in the kitchen?” Natasha offered kindly, their voices fading away as they exited the doorway.

The evening went on and on and on. You and Makena planned out your trick or treating costumes a month ahead just to be safe and ensure you would have the chance to find your costumes in time. You were called down for dinner shortly after, the house overflowing with the delicious scent of beef and spices. You ate together, Natasha fitting perfectly beside you at the long dining hall table, her and Vivienne unable to shut their mouths as they conversed, everyone enjoying the food and the company you were in. For dessert you and Makena wanted to bake something, settling for slu*tty Brownies which had been renamed to be Silly Brownies in the Davies household for Jackie’s sake, although you still knew them as slu*tty Brownies at home because Natasha didn’t care all that much about vulgarities especially when she had full trust that you were smart enough not to use them. The night eventually came to an end on the huge living room couch where Natasha and Vivienne talked, both having their legs tucked up on the couch as they continued their never-ending conversation. You were curled up against Natasha with your head on her lap, fast asleep, Makena’s position mirroring yours as you both slept between your mothers. You had ended up there after thinking you were soon going to leave but then it never happened and you accidentally just fell asleep with Natasha’s hand stroking your arm and back absentmindedly. It wasn’t until the clock neared midnight that Natasha finally scooped you up into her arms and kissed Vivienne goodbye before carrying you into the car to drive back home.

Chapter 36: Boo

Chapter Text

“No, help!” You squeaked, shoving your face into Natasha to hide from the TV screen, hearing her gentle chuckle rumble in her chest, Clint jumping slightly beside you at the loud noises that sounded in the darkness of the living room. Your heart hacked in your chest with incredible vigor, chills running down your back as you tried to breathe evenly, Natasha’s hand stroking your back gently. You wrapped your arms around her as best as you could, daring to peek at the screen again, slowly turning your head away from her wool sweater to see what was happening in the movie. You could see that most of the screen was black, the blue haired girl crawling forward in the darkness. “Mom, mom, mom, mom”, you chanted desperately, trying to control the nervous jitters in your body as you struggled to stay still, squinting at the screen.

“Baby, maybe we should switch to another movie”, Natasha suggested in mild amusem*nt as you bounced beside her, trying to ease your anxiety.

“No!” You hissed immediately, flinching away from the screen, thinking you were going to see another jump scare, but the tension didn’t break just yet.

“Are you sure, zaika (bunny)?” She asked softly, hooking her finger under your chin to turn your head to face her. You yanked it back toward the screen, impatient with the jump scare that was teasing you.

“Yes, I wanna know what happens”, you whined, grabbing Natasha’s hand to bring it up to your face to cover your eyes. The movie was just the right amount of scary for a preteen like yourself, but to Natasha it was a mere children’s movie. There were very few scary things she hadn’t seen in life which meant that movies rarely were enough to shake her.

“You’re silly”, she mumbled, kissing your hair, knowing she would find you from her bed by the end of the night. The girl got scared by a loud noise, followed by a shrill scream from you in response, Clint flinching slightly beside you.

“Oh my gosh!” You cried, hiding back into Natasha while she laughed at Clint.

“Did you just flinch?” She chuckled, her hand reaching over you to push him teasingly. “There’s no way”, she laughed, Clint looking fed up with her.

“I did not”, he scoffed, crossing his arms, trying to puff his chest a bit to seem less like the child between him and Natasha.

“You so did”, she giggled, tickling his neck in the most annoying way, gently coaxing out a laugh from him.

“Stop”, he chuckled, shoving her hand back, Natasha countering his attack by pushing her other hand in his face as well.

“Shh, behave. I wanna know what she’ll do next”, you hissed, smacking their joint hands, a displeased pout on your face, Natasha’s chuckle fading out as they both focused back on the movie. “Oh, oh, oh no, no, no, no”, you squeaked, bouncing your legs, your hand squeezing Natasha’s so tightly she thought it might bruise, your short nails digging into the delicate skin. The woman with black button eyes appeared on the screen again, making you squirm in your seat. She was just so scary. “Mommy they’re gonna sew buttons in her eyes!” You cried, snuggling right back into her embrace as the girl escaped upstairs and hid into her room.

“Baby girl”, she chuckled in amusem*nt. “Are you sure you don’t want to switch. You’re spending more time in my sweater than watching the screen”, she reasoned, but you shook your head, lifting your face away from her chest to look up at her.

“I have to know”, you whined, her hands cupping your cheeks affectionately as she leaned down to kiss your forehead and nose.

“Alright, darling”, she hummed in defeat, casting her eyes back on the screen to see that the blue haired girl hadn’t managed to come back into the real world and was still stuck in an alternate reality, talking with her Other Father. You turned around just in time to see the horribly unsettling face he made, the character stretching the corners of his mouth down, those button eyes making it all the more scary. You whimpered, swallowing down your scream as you continued to stare at the screen rather vehemently, determined to be braver than you felt.

It was all fun in games to watch scary things on the TV screen but when the evening turned into a night and the lights went out you found it much less entertaining. You felt like the shadows were filled with ghosts, people standing in the corners of the room. If you stared hard enough you swore you could see button eyes, faces, and figures in the dark. It was all too scary. You snuggled closer to Natasha, wondering why she wasn’t scared at all, how she could sleep with the people in the corners staring at her. You moved her arm, trying to get closer to her but it was difficult with the way she was curled up on the bed.

“Mommy”, you whined, nudging her a little. “Mommy, I can’t sleep”, you lamented, shaking her shoulder enough to make her blink her eyes open.

“Mmh, kroshka (little one)… are you scared?” She asked groggily, immediately fixing her position to welcome you into her embrace.

“Yeah”, you mumbled in defeat, comforted by her warmth.

“Baby, I told you it was too scary for you”, she whispered, stroking your hair as if trying to comb through it with her fingers.

“It didn’t feel scary at the moment”, you groaned, nuzzling your face against her shoulder.

“Then what did it feel like?” She chuckled gently. “You were screaming the whole time”, she pointed out, making you laugh at yourself.

“I don’t know”, you giggled. “It was fun, but now it feels like there’s ghost children lurking in the dark”, you whispered, your fist curling into the material of her pajamas. “What if Other Mother comes and gets me?” You mumbled.

“Oh, myshka (little mouse), there’s no Other Mother. There’s just me”, she chuckled gently, squeezing you comfortingly.

“But- but ‘cause Coraline’s mom was so awful, do you think my Other Mother would be even worse ‘cause you’re so amazing?” You pondered, fiddling with her pajama top.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, malyshka (baby). I think the Other Mother chose unhappy children to be her victims”, she reasoned, petting your body soothingly. “You’re not unhappy, are you?” She asked, suddenly in genuine curiosity. You had never given her any reason to doubt your happiness but it was important to check in on you at times.

“No.”

“Aside from the movie, there’s nothing that’s bothering you?” She continued, giving you an opening in case there was something that was on your mind.

“No. You’re the best mom ever which means Other Mother can’t get me”, you concluded, making Natasha smile.

“That’s right”, she mumbled, kissing your cheek. “I am the best mom ever.” You giggled. “Would you like me to read something to you? Tomorrow’s a very important day. You need your beauty sleep, you little munchkin”, she teased, tickling your sides gently, your chuckles turning into proper laughter. “Are you excited to see Savannah? It’s been a while”, she asked conversationally.

“Yeah, and I get to wear my costume!” You exclaimed. “And eat soo much candy”, you cheered, Natasha chuckling at your enthusiasm. “Do you think there’s gonna be cake? There has to be cake, right?” You reasoned, already dreaming of having a huge slice for yourself, alongside all the candy of course.

“It is a birthday party”, she reminded you, drawing playful circles into your back to soothe you. She tightened her hug on you for no particular reason at all, holding you close to her chest, her lips finding your temple to kiss. You didn’t say anything after that, her comforting touch slowly starting to lull you into sleep. “Did you want that story, honey?” She murmured softly, in case you were asleep already. She waited for a moment, listening to your even breathing, a fond smile appearing on her lips as she continued to soothe you by stroking your hair and back. You had fallen asleep.

•••

You let out a happy, little squeal as you slammed the car door shut, rushing out onto the crowded field, filled with huge, orange pumpkins. You gathered the sleeves and skirt of your costume so you wouldn’t trip over them, rushing toward the other kids as Natasha followed suit, dressed up as a rather fashionable Willy Wonka. She lowered the round, white sunglasses over her eyes to shield her corneas from the blaring sun, straightening her top hat before digging up her walking stick from the backseat. She locked the car, walking after you, studying her surroundings rather carefully out of habit, spotting your swinging scythe in the crowd as you greeted all your old school friends, loud screams and giggles sounding in the air. She observed the people around you, the preteens in their creative costumes, all kinds of characters running around. Pirates, witches, movie characters, actors, musicians, even objects, you name it. Natasha found it rather entertaining to spot all the different ways the kids and their parents had gotten creative for Halloween. Natasha wasn’t much of a socializer, greeting whoever she recognized on the way to the long table of food. You were old enough to be at a party by yourself but Savannah’s mother had decided to invite parents as well to which Natasha and Vivienne had agreed with the stipulation that both would attend so that the other wouldn’t get bored. Besides, what could be more fun than spending a day at a farm with preteens and pumpkins?

“Good day, Miss Wonka”, Vivienne hummed in amusem*nt, walking up to Natasha who was stealing grapes before the food service had even started. Natasha turned around, a bright smile appearing on her face.

“To you too, Miss de Vil”, she chuckled, eyeing Vivienne’s thick fur coat and quality, split-dye wig. “You look fabulous as always.”

“As do you”, she replied, her hand reaching for the deep purple grapes as well. Natasha glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching before stealing a cookie from the platter that was loaded with three different sorts of cookies. “Wanna share?” She asked, offering the stuffed cookie to Vivienne, prompting her to grab the opposite side of the sandwiched cookie, both of them twisting the pieces that were glued together by cream in the middle into different directions to separate them.

“Crap, you got all the cream”, Vivienne groaned, Natasha smirking her way.

“I can switch”, she hummed in all seriousness. “Here.” She handed her cream coated chocolate cookie to Vivienne, taking the dry one for herself.

“Thank you”, Vivienne muttered softly, giving her a look that was disrupted by a loud bleat that pierced the air. They both turned toward the vast field on their left, spotting a large enclosure, filled with goats and their small babies, Vivienne and Natasha letting out unanimous chuckles.

“Someone wants attention”, Natasha mused, her hand reaching for the dipping vegetables, glancing back again to make sure no one was paying too much attention to them before grabbing a handful of carrot and cucumber sticks. “Come on”, she smirked, tugging gently on Vivienne’s hand to pull her toward the enclosure. They walked across the small gravel road to the fence that was getting chewed by a baby goat, crouching down in front of it, Natasha handing half of the vegetables to Vivienne.

“Oh, what a cutie. Look at you”, Vivienne cooed, tickling the small, white goat under its chin. “I could just grab you and take you home”, she babbled, a fond smirk overtaking Natasha’s features at seeing a different side to Vivienne who usually held up her composure at all times.

“I don’t think Bruno would like that. He gets jealous so easily”, Natasha pointed out, poking one of the carrot sticks through the fence to the brown goat that was trying to chew the fence again. Natasha stayed quiet for a moment, clearly deep in thought before deciding to bring up the topic. “Viv, can I ask you something?”

“Of course”, she nodded, turning to look at Natasha.

“Y/N’s anxiety has been getting worse lately”, she stated softly, looking down at the hay beneath her feet. “I got her another therapy appointment so she could discuss the situation with her therapist, but… I don’t know. I just- Do you think it’s my fault, all of it?” She turned her head to Vivienne, meeting her gaze. “Did I fail her?”

“Natasha…” Vivienne sighed gently, noting the anguish on Natasha’s face as she reached her hand to hold Natasha’s. “No, it’s not your fault”, she assured her immediately, Vivienne’s thumb stroking gently over the back of Natasha’s hand.

“She’s nothing but a child. She shouldn’t have to experience this much anxiety over things that haven’t even happened”, she reasoned in a shameful tone. “I put her into that position. I caused it.”

“No, dear. You did no such thing”, Vivienne countered carefully. “You had no control over what happened. I know you have a thing with being on top of everything but you need to understand that you can’t have control over things like genetics, other people, or your past”, Vivienne reminded her, her hand continuing to hold Natasha’s.

“I don’t have a thing with being in control”, Natasha countered in a quiet mutter that made Vivienne smile.

“You can deny it all you want, but I see through you”, Vivienne remarked. “You can’t control her or her anxiety and it scares you.” Natasha scoffed, looking at one of the baby goats that was patiently waiting for Natasha to hand it more cucumber.

“I do wish I could control it. I would take it all away”, she whispered, her finger petting the tuft of fur on the goat’s tiny head. “Every last bit of it.”

“I know. I would do the same”, Vivienne hummed.

“Sometimes I feel like I made a mistake, like I subjected her to this life filled with anxiety by keeping her”, Natasha admitted, staring off into the sunshine-filled fields. “She could be somewhere in Manhattan or Brooklyn in a loving family without a care in the world.”

“Or she could be in the foster system, crying herself to sleep every night”, Vivienne reminded her. “Natasha, you can’t get stuck on the what ifs. Things are how they are and you move forward with what you’ve got”, she said firmly, giving Natasha’s hand another squeeze. “You made the right choice by her. I promise you, keeping her was the best thing you could have possibly done for her.”

“Was it?” Natasha turned her head to face Vivienne, the ridiculous Wonka glasses making Vivienne let out a small chuckle. She reached for the glasses, pulling them off her face to see Natasha’s glossy eyes.

“It was, my darling Natasha. You’ve given her everything a child could ever need”, Vivienne stated knowingly. “You’re far too hard on yourself. No one can be perfect. I know I’m a good mother, maybe even excellent, but I’ll never be perfect and I’ve made peace with that. Every day I make a mistake of some sorts with my children, or sometimes I even repeat the same mistakes I made with Marco, but I’m trying. And even the blind can see that you are too.” Vivienne offered Natasha a wide grin, earning a hesitant smile in return.

“I just- there has to be something I can do to take the anxiety away. I can’t just sit around and do nothing”, Natasha huffed.

“There you go again. Didn’t you just tell me you brought back her appointments? You’re doing all the right things, dummy”, Vivienne countered, making Natasha let out a small chuckle at the pet name. “Soon you’re going to have anxiety over your daughter’s anxiety”, she teased, lightening the atmosphere a bit.

“I think I already do”, Natasha sighed, wiping her eyes to make sure none of her tears had a chance to fall.

“Come on, Wonka, that’s a worry for another day. It’s Halloween, loosen up a little”, Vivienne smirked, nudging Natasha gently before placing her sunglasses back on her face. “We can talk more later when we have more time, but for now, I want you to enjoy this stinky farm. Let’s go see if they’ve started the pumpkin carving contest ‘cause you best believe I’ll beat your ass at it”, she chuckled, standing up from the hay she had knelt onto, offering her hand to Natasha as a polite gesture rather than actually thinking Natasha needed any assistance.

“You better watch your mouth, Cruella, I’ve seen the lanterns on your lawn and I know even Bruno could do better”, she jabbed playfully, Vivienne laughing unabashedly at the comment as they headed back to the farm house and table settings.

“Mom! It’s about to begin”, you shouted from the crowd of kids, Natasha walking up to you, her hand caressing your plastic scythe.

“I thought I saw the Grim Reaper walking around”, she muttered, placing a kiss over the hood of your costume, her eyes moving to Makena who was as pink as one could possibly be. Even her hair was dyed a bright pink with a temporary hair color. It made Natasha smile a ridiculous little grin to see you two side by side with you as a symbol of death and Makena as a magical fairy. You made quite the pairing.

Needless to say Natasha and Vivienne did both a horrible job at pumpkin carving, the edges of each cut jagged, clearly lacking proper technique, but they did both manage to carve something that resembled a face and maybe their incompetence even added some horror to it all, making the faces a lot more unsettling. You did your very best to carve your scythe into the pumpkin but you found it to resemble a bit too much of the Soviet Union flag, attempting to save it by adding eyes to form a crooked, freaky smile. Makena didn’t like Halloween all that much. She hated scary things if they weren’t coated in pink and glitter which led her to express herself rather accordingly on her pumpkin. She carved a cute little cat face on the side of it, making it just as adorable as she was.

The activity was followed by cake and piñatas, candy flying everywhere after Savannah, who was wearing a Bratz costume, swung it so hard you were sure the cardboard unicorn was in pain. Everyone was supposed to get their turn at defeating the piñata but Savannah didn’t leave much for the other kids to deal with. Thankfully, no one seemed bothered by it, the heaps of candy enough to work as a distraction. Natasha and Vivienne watched you and Makena make friends with Savannah’s new friend from middle school, the dark haired girl seeming to adapt to the already existing trio rather fast. You played with the goats, ran around the fields in your costumes, stuffed your faces with cake, Natasha sneaking pictures of the Grim Reaper with a face covered in frosting. You spotted her eventually, gathering the closest of your friends together for a picture before stealing Natasha’s phone to make a vlog.

Vivienne eventually had to leave to take the younger kids out for trick or treating, leaving Makena with you and Natasha because she refused to go trick or treating with her little sisters, claiming their company to be far too lame. You were ecstatic about trick or treating, just like you were every year, but the small group that was joining you from the compound only amplified that sense of giddiness. Tony and Morgan were joining you alongside Clint who was coming for nostalgia, missing his children who were all grown up, even Wanda was coming, and they were all going to wear costumes. It couldn’t have gotten any better. You, Natasha, and Makena left the party around five, going straight to the location where your family had agreed to meet up. Once it finally got dark outside the entire group hit the streets of a nearby neighborhood, knowing there weren’t a lot of houses near where you lived, the location of the compound forcing you to drive to a regular suburban area to get your share of Halloween treats. You chose a different neighborhood each year to keep things more interesting which suited you perfectly fine, or had suited you perfectly fine until you and Makena had gotten the bright idea to steer away from the rest for some alone time because you were “old enough”.

Makena had started to regret it the second you had stepped into the quieter streets, most of the light around you coming from Halloween decorations that had been hung up on people’s yards and porches. You knew you’d made a mistake when there were just a few adults on the streets, laughing loudly, wearing scary faces and bloody clothes, your surroundings looking more and more unfamiliar by the second. You felt Makena’s hand grab yours, her fairy wings brushing against you as she pulled you closer to her, gripping your hand and forearm tightly. She was very obviously nervous, every sound, no matter how little, causing her to jump in fear.

“I think it’s this street. I remember this house”, you exclaimed in relief, pointing at the crooked fence and smashed pumpkins on the lawn. Makena eyed it cautiously, the street looking awfully dim and deserted. “We can get back to where we started through here”, you explained, Makena seeming much more doubtful.

“Are you sure? I thought the house with the smashed pumpkins was green”, she countered tentatively.

“Yes, I’m sure”, you nodded confidently, crossing the street to get to the pavement.

“I don’t like this”, Makena whispered to you immediately, struggling to descend further down the eerie street. The wind howled in your ears, leaves rustling gently in the bushes and trees. It was cold, your fingertips starting to grow numb.

“I know, but we can’t stay here”, you reasoned, squeezing her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I guess not”, she lamented. You looked around you again, suddenly very aware of every minute detail in your surroundings. There were no people and much less decorations. You glanced at the next house you passed. Your heart hacked in your chest. The owners had put up nothing but a small witch doll to dangle above their porch. Its eyes glowed red. Your breathing picked up, feet moving you both forward to get you back to your family. You could hear nothing but the wind and you and Makena’s soft footsteps as you hurried blindly forward, not really knowing where you were going.

“I’m so scared”, Makena whimpered, constantly looking around as if someone was out to get you.

“It’ll be okay”, you said, trying to sound confident but you could no longer deny how nervous you were. “We just have to find the Main Street”, you reasoned, peering ahead into the darkness, only a few porch lights shining in the distance. That’s when you realized that the street lights were gone. You glanced back to where you had come from, noticing the yellow streetlights glow far behind you.

“Yea-“ There was a thump and a quiet groan, Makena falling face first onto the asphalt. You halted at once to help her up, checking to see how bad the fall had been. “I’m fine”, she announced immediately, turning around to sit on the ground, brushing her hands down her pink dress to get rid of the dirt on her fingers.

“What the hell is that?” You nearly shrieked, looking down at the thing Makena had trampled. Makena turned her head to what you were pointing at, her gaze landing on a dark lump. It was hard to see in the dark, but she recognized it without needing any further inspections, letting out a rushed sob. You looked at her hands. They were bloody. You looked at each other for a brief moment as if checking to see that you were on the same page before panic took over. You screamed in pure fear, yanking Makena off the ground before turning around as fast as possible, running back toward the warm streetlights. You held onto her hand, tugging on it every once in a while not to let her fall behind.

You ran and you ran, Makena sobbing behind you, trying her best not to trip over her sparkling ballerina shoes. You screamed again, you screamed for mommy, you screamed for anyone who would listen as you tried your best to navigate your way back to the lively street you had begun your night on but the houses all looked the same through the lens of panic and fear. You found people, but none of them really paid attention to you, figuring that you were just some silly preteens playing around.

“Y/N, Y/N!” Makena cried, tugging you back to slow you down. “Wait! Our candy”, she whined, her words making you halt. You looked at her realizing that she was right. Your small tote bags were gone.

“I- Do we go back?” You asked hesitantly, Makena’s eyes telling you that she would rather eat worms than turn around.

“We should find the others first”, she reasoned. “For backup.” You nodded, brushing the tears off her cheeks. You continued your search for the right street at a slower pace but still just as on edge as before, the cheap robotic decorations that jumped at you doing absolutely nothing to alleviate the fear you felt.

“Mom!” You cried desperately, not sure if she was even within an earshot of you but you were willing to try. “Mom!” You wished you could have at least remembered the street name. “Mommy!” You felt tears sting your eyes, your racing heart refusing to calm down. But then you saw a top hat and a walking cane, your knees nearly buckling in relief when you realized it was Natasha.

“Are you guys okay?” She asked from afar, rushing down the street to you, a worried frown on her face, followed by a very confused Clint. Makena didn’t have to answer the question as she burst into sobs, running right into Natasha’s arms with you in her footsteps.

“Human head!” Makena whimpered.

“A what?” Natasha frowned.

“We- we lost our candy! Mommy, we almost got murdered!” You cried dramatically, Natasha frowning in disbelief as she engulfed Makena into her firm embrace, her other arm welcoming you into a hug as well, sandwiching Makena between you two.

“Shh, shh, okay, dorogaya (darling)”, she hummed soothingly, kissing both your heads as she held you to her chest. “Where did you guys go? I tried to call you”, she asked in worry, your distress making her stomach lurch. You paused at the mention of your phone, remembering that you did in fact have your phone with you because Natasha would never let you go alone anywhere without it. You felt a bit dumb for completely forgetting about it.

“We got lost”, you mumbled, glancing at Makena who was still securely in Natasha’s embrace, her pretty fairy wings just a little more crooked and frumpy.

“But- but what about the head?” Makena cried, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“Yeah, oh my god! It was all bloody and mushed up!” You exclaimed, able to focus on what had scared you to death now that you were safe.

“Oh, those”, Natasha sighed, looking slightly fed up.

“They’re doll heads”, Clint chimed in once he was close enough to be included in the conversation, your wide eyes blinking up at him a couple of times. “Some teens have been throwing them around to scare people.” You struggled to process the news, feeling incredibly unimpressed by such a prank. For a moment you had genuinely thought that you were going to die that night, only for it to have been a stupid doll head.

“Mom, I think I peed my pants”, you whined, Natasha offering you a sympathetic smile as she tugged you back into her embrace.

“Come here, dushenka (sweetheart)”, Natasha whispered.

“I know I did”, Makena chuckled, finally done crying after having received a reasonable explanation for what you had witnessed.

“Those doll heads got you pretty good, didn’t they?” Natasha mumbled softly, dropping her mouth down to the crown of your head as you nuzzled your face into her chest, exhaling deeply to let go of the fear that had shaken you so strongly. “Well, that’s one way to start the night”, Natasha chuckled in amusem*nt, rubbing her hands down you and Makena’s backs. “Let’s go get your loot back before anyone steals it”, she mused when she finally felt you both ease up on the hug, slowly pulling away. You glanced at Clint again who offered you a gentle smile.

“I wasn’t even scared”, you scoffed nonchalantly, Clint raising his eyebrows at you.

“I’m sure you weren’t”, he huffed in amusem*nt, Natasha giving him a look as she gently ushered you into the direction you had come from.

“You two are like peas in a pod”, she muttered to him as he stepped past her, his grin only widening, reminiscent of your movie night. You retrieved your relatively empty bags from the scary street, getting a good look at the doll head smeared in fake blood to truly confirm that no one had gotten brutally murdered on the street that you and Makena were already calling Murder Street, before returning to the much livelier part of the neighborhood to finally properly begin your trick or treating round. You felt a lot safer in a group, finding the scary faces, costumes, and decorations much more effective after the little scare you and Makena had experienced, but thankfully you had a bunch of superheroes around you to protect you from any kind of harm.

You looked at Tony in his Ironman suit, a bumblebee named Morgan sitting on his armored shoulders, the girl giggling loudly, kicking her feet. Wanda was dressed up as a Pin-Up girl, although her version of it was a bit more modest. She wore a beautiful bouffant dress with an apron, her hair curled into tight coils above her shoulders. You thought she looked rather beautiful and proper for Halloween, but figured she found it more comfortable than fantasy creatures or gory costumes. Clint was wearing nothing but a Batman mask, although Natasha had insisted on putting some black eyeliner on him to make his costume a bit more convincing. As a result he walked around with makeup in his eyes, sometimes truly committing to the bit and making his voice all low and gravelly to make the kids either laugh or cry depending on their age. Natasha, of course, could not resist the urge to bully him all night long, calling Clint an emo boy and any other related moniker under the sun. Naturally, you and Makena laughed a lot, laughed so hard your tummies ached.

“My turn to knock on the door!” You announced, hurrying past everyone to ring the doorbell of a large brick house. You waited patiently for the door to open, a rather scary looking woman eventually almost swinging the door into your face. You jumped back, staring up at her frighteningly realistic special effects makeup, half of her jaw hanging off as if she had gotten mauled by an animal.

“Trick or t-treat”, you uttered hopefully, trying not to sound so timid. The young woman was clearly late, frustrated that there were so many people at her door, her one working eye taking a good look at everyone. She frowned at Tony who had his face mask off, but clearly shook off her suspicions because there was just no way it was him.

“Here. Only for the kids though. I don’t have much”, she explained, handing you a large bowl of candy to pick a few pieces. You turned around to Makena with a huge smile, Tony tipping his upper body forward enough to allow Morgan to take a piece for herself. She giggled again, the candy going right into her mouth, Tony yelping when she started chewing on the wrapper. For some reason Morgan found it to be a rather entertaining game. Makena knocked on the next door, a lovely elderly couple greeting you with big smiles. They offered you a generous amount of candy, your excitement only amplifying from the sight of your favorite candy bar. Third house had no one home, a bowl of candy on the porch with a sign saying “1 per person. Happy Halloween.” You glanced at the decorations around it, a large Grim Reaper holding the bowl. It looked scary, like one of those animatronics that moved when you got too close.

“Mom, I don’t wanna grab it”, you whispered, hiding behind her, Makena hiding behind you.

“Oh, honey, it’s just a decoration”, she assured you, nudging you forward gently, a small smirk on her lips. Wanda and Tony glanced at each other. They knew something you didn’t, Wanda with her powers and Tony with his visor down.

“Yeah, but it’s scary. Look at it.” Morgan too looked a bit disturbed, clinging to her father’s iron hand. Natasha took a good look at the creature, noting how life-like its frame was. It was too big to be a decoration.

“Do you wanna give it a try, guyliner?” She asked turning to Clint who looked hesitant. “Are you kidding me?” She huffed in amusem*nt when no one else seemed willing, taking a step closer to the bowl of candy, reaching for the sweets. She looked at the ghost face, getting the sensation that it was looking back at her. She frowned, moving her hand to the candy in a calculated manner, grabbing a handful for everyone. She almost expected the creature to move, but it didn’t. Her eyes lingered on its face as she withdrew her hand, taking a step back, still feeling apprehensive. Suddenly, without a warning it moved, letting out a loud growl. Natasha flinched, her fist drawn back in an instant to punch the living daylights out of it, but when she realized it was in fact a real person she held herself back.

“Motherf-“ She nearly exclaimed as you, Makena, and Morgan screamed in unison.

“Oh, good heavens”, Clint huffed in shock, bringing his hand to his chest, his child-appropriate curse words falling a bit more naturally off his tongue than Natasha’s had. Wanda and Tony laughed quietly, not at all bothered because they had known. Natasha was not at all amused, taking her candy and walking away, allowing others to get their own.

“You nearly got your sh*t rocked, ghost face”, Tony mumbled in that knowing voice of his as he took a caramel for himself. “You were this… close to having to reap yourself”, he noted, pinching his index finger and thumb together to demonstrate it for the man behind the costume. “Good job. She doesn’t scare easy”, he continued, Natasha rolling her eyes at him.

“You got scared”, you sneered at your mother, feeling a lot better about how much of a wuss you were being that night knowing that she had her moments too.

“Alright, enough, next house”, she mumbled, fighting off a smile as she tugged you back into the street.

“You got so scared!” You giggled in excitement.

“Well, I wouldn’t say so scared”, she protested in a quiet grumble as you continued to laugh, following Makena to the next house, Morgan running after you, wanting to be included.

“Pretty scared”, Wanda chimed in, her voice teasing. Natasha gave her a look, but didn’t resist the laugh that followed. In hindsight it was very funny, she had to admit.

“Whatever”, she groaned, focusing on the very obviously newlywed couple at the door, the woman expecting a child, unless the bump of her huge belly was a costume. Natasha looked at it fondly, a tender smile overtaking her features. To think that you had once been that small, that codependent. Her eyes shifted to you, her bright, little girl —or not so little anymore, you had grown quite a lot in the past year or so.

“I want one”, Wanda said suddenly, Natasha’s attention turning to her.

“A baby?”

“Yes”, she nodded softly, her hand coming up to her stomach. “I don’t know why, I just have to have one.” She elaborated, Natasha smiling softly at her friend. She couldn’t say she related because she hadn’t felt that way about you in the beginning, nor had she ever truly dreamt of being a mother, but she understood where Wanda was coming from.

“Your time will come, honey”, Natasha assured her, offering her a warm smile. “I know it. You’re a natural,” she added, Wanda’s smile brightening.

“I really, really hope so”, Wanda mumbled, crouching down a bit as Morgan ran to her to show the lollipop she had received.

“Look! I got Chupa Chups!” Morgan exclaimed, showing the lollipop to Wanda. Natasha’s smile lingered as she searched for you with her gaze, moving to your direction. She wanted a lollipop too, but the couple had already closed their door.

“Will you trade me a lollipop?” Natasha asked slyly, sneaking to your side.

“What do you have to offer?” You frowned in all seriousness.

“Hmm, let’s see”, Natasha mused, digging through the pockets of her suit jacket. “I’ve got a fifty, but you’re not getting that, chapstick, lint, and a kiss from your mama if you’re super, duper nice and give me a lolly”, she bribed pleadingly, making you smile.

“It’s blackberry anyway”, you said in mild disgust, handing the lollipop to your mother.

“Thank you, baby”, she hummed, pulling you into her embrace, kissing your cheek a couple times as you let out a small whine.

“Momm”, you groaned, chuckling softly at the kisses you received. She opened the wrapped and popped the candy into her mouth, grasping Clint’s arm to hug for comfort as you all continued walking down the street, visiting the houses that looked like they were giving out candy, resulting in a huge pile of sweets that you spread onto your bedroom rug to admire them at the end of the night when everyone had gone home.

Chapter 37: Change

Chapter Text

You were sweaty and exhausted, your head throbbing slightly from the long day you had had, but no amount of tiredness was enough to hold you back during training. You loved it with a burning passion, finding the combination of mental and physical challenge something that brought both joy and energy into your life. It also made you feel like a superhero to be able to fight like your mother and the rest of the Avengers. But that day you should have skipped practice altogether. You were in no condition to fully focus on kickboxing, feeling slight fatigue from the excessive amount of repetitions you had done of the conditioning circuit made by your coach. You should have stopped there. You should have said no to the additional kicking drills with your coach who suggested you would go over the new move you had learned the week before. You should have said no, but you didn’t.

Your bare foot connected with the leather of the boxing bag, a harsh slap sounding in the room filled with quiet chatter from the rest of the kids who were taking a small break between the training circuits. You let out a quiet grunt, aiming higher before trying again. Your coach praised you for the precision of your kick, feeding your need to succeed. You kicked even higher, adding a couple extra steps to take a small break to alleviate the burn you felt in your other leg that you stood on. A sharp exhale escaped you as you tried again and again, not quite getting the move right. Your heart hacked in your chest and you felt lightheaded, your body tired and shaky. You were pushing yourself too far.

“Slow down, slow down. Hold your foot up, as high as you can. Hold it. Hold it”, he instructed you in a firm tone, coming closer, his hand finding your calf to stretch your leg even higher. You winced, your quad screaming for mercy, the burn turning into pure pain. “Kick”, he ordered, prompting you to bend your knee and kick the target with the little energy you had left. “That’s it. Now channel all that power of yours into the kick. I know you can”, he said encouragingly, letting go of you and backing away enough to give you more room. You caught your breath for a few seconds, eyes fixed on the spot that you were aiming for. You charged your leg back a bit to really put all the effort you could find into that kick, your foot shooting up with immaculate speed and strength, but you missed your target, going far to up, the leg you were standing on faltering, causing you to lose your footing completely. Your ankle rolled to the side, your entire weight resting over it before you thumped to the ground in agony, keeling over your leg to find your foot to hold.

Tears sprung to your eyes in an instant, but you bit back your cries, your entire body consumed by a sudden wave of pain that made you want to scream. You remained on the floor even when your coach crouched down beside you to help you, intense disappointment flushing over you at your failure. He asked you if you could move your foot. You could, but it hurt twice as much whenever you wiggled your toes. You sniffled quietly, trying to wipe your tears but they were immediately replaced by fresh ones. You were lifted off the ground by your coach whose build reminded you a lot of Steve’s, your coach possessing those same strong, muscular arms that felt safe. You cried silently as he carried you into the dressing rooms, seating you down on a bench, finding an emergency kit so he could ice your ankle.

“Do you want me to call your mom?” He asked softly, clearly trying to comfort you as he placed a rag over your foot to avoid burning your skin with the instant ice bag he was squishing into life.

“I can call”, you whispered, wiping your eyes, leaning to the side once you noticed that your bag was just in your reach. You wiped your runny nose into your shirt, dialing Natasha’s number, feeling your lower lip tremble at the mere thought of your mother, knowing you wouldn’t be able to pretend that you were okay with her. She had always had that kind of effect on you because your body and mind knew you were safe whenever she was near. But with your coach, you wanted to seem tough. You wanted him to think you were cool and collected, which from his perspective was absolutely ridiculous because you were nothing but a child to him, but regardless of what he thought, you wanted to impress him. You wanted to be good at what you did, and not just in your own opinion but others’ as well. You waited for a moment, the phone ringing for quite a while until she picked up.

“Hi”, you croaked in a sullen voice, raising Natasha’s concerns immediately.

“Hi, zaika (darling), what’s wrong?” She asked, the quiet chatter and clattering of plates accompanying her. There was some music as well, gentle sound of jazz catching your attention for a brief moment before she had moved into a different location where it couldn’t be heard.

“I- I broke my an-ankle”, you sobbed out suddenly, failing to keep up your composure because you were just so crestfallen. You didn’t know how severe the injury was or if your ankle even was broken in the first place, but you knew for sure that you were going to miss a good amount of practice at the most critical time for Spring competitions. You wouldn’t get to participate at all if you were exceptionally unlucky, which you had a feeling you were going to be, not to even mention how incredibly tired you were.

“I’ll come pick you right up, okay baby? I’m in the city so it’ll take a little longer but I’ll try to be as quick as possible”, she informed gently, always ready to do whatever necessary to provide you comfort. You nodded your head even though she couldn’t see you.

“Okay.”

“Is coach Vargas with you? Did he put ice on your ankle?” She asked, needing to make sure you were properly taken care of while she was away.

“Yes”, you whimpered, glancing at him as he offered you a sad smile.

“Okay, good. I’m leaving right now malyshka (baby). Just hang on for a while”, she said encouragingly, wanting to assure you that help was on the way. You bid her goodbye before ending the call, letting out a long sigh.

“Do you think I’ll be able to compete?” You asked quietly, Vargas giving you a look as he dug through the emergency kit for pain medication.

“I sure hope so”, he hummed, finding a packet of pills. “Give me your hand”, he ordered, popping the pill right into the palm of your hand to avoid touching it himself. You grabbed your water bottle off the bench, gulping half of it down as you took your pill, soothing your parched throat. “But… see how it’s swelling up? That’s not a good sign. Can you still move it?” You frowned at his words, trying to move your ankle to the side a bit to see how it felt but you found it difficult and when it finally did move you were met with blinding, sharp pain that nearly immobilized you with its intensity. “It might be broken”, he lamented, your eyes welling up with tears again.

“And how long will it take to heal?”

“Some weeks”, he replied reluctantly, knowing you were going to hate the answer. You didn’t comment on it, sitting silently on the bench as you waited for Natasha to come pick you up, not even bothering to scroll through your phone or do anything else to distract yourself. You felt too bad, too upset to even try to ignore the pain, so you sat in it, allowing your tears to stream down your cheeks silently as you kept on waiting.

Natasha arrived thirty minutes later, entering through the gym doors, locating the dressing rooms with ease, greeting your coach who gave her a sad smile. Your mother was wearing a fitted dress with a luscious fur coat over it to stave off the cold Spring wind and chilly evening. She had a little bit more makeup on and she had done her hair differently for the dinner she had attended. She looked nice. It was a shame you had had to interrupt her night like that, but you didn’t manage to regret it for any longer because when she sat down beside you and pulled you into her embrace you immediately felt better. You failed to care about her ruined plans when you needed her so badly.

“Moya solnishka (my sunshine)”, she mumbled, squeezing you tightly, kissing your head as she hugged you. There was a brief moment where you tried to fight your tears, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the emotions build up in your chest, but her perfume engulfed you fully, the warm touch of her hands forcing out the sobs you were trying to hide.

“It hurts”, you whimpered, pressing your face into her neck, your tears wetting her skin. You felt so awful you didn’t think words were enough to describe it. Your body was so tired, so heavy even without the added pain, your heart clenching harshly whenever you remembered that Spring season was over for you no matter what kind of injury you had suffered. You would inevitably fall behind in training, no matter what you would try to do to prevent it. You would most likely not even be able to walk for a while, the thought of having to go to school and other places with crutches making you shiver. You didn’t want to be bed-bound. You hated sitting still.

“I know, baby girl, but we’ll get you to a hospital and it’ll all be okay”, she reasoned, stroking her hand down your back.

“No, it won’t”, you cried desperately, breathing in hasty, ragged inhales. “I’m gonna fall b-behind. I-I can’t compete”, you sobbed, gripping her waist tightly in search of comfort.

“Oh, myshka (little mouse), you’ll be back in the game in no time. It isn’t the end of the world”, she reminded you softly, but she was wrong. It was the end of the world, at least for you.

“Yes, it is”, you hissed, a few more sobs escaping you. “I-“ You started but never managed to finish your sentence, too pained to figure out words and sentences. You sobbed openly into her neck, Natasha soothing you to the best of her abilities, her hands smoothing over your body comfortingly as she whispered words of love and encouragement into your hair.

“Come on, milaya (honey), I know you don’t want to move, but we need to get you to the ER before the pain gets any worse”, she reasoned, pulling away enough to be able to see your face. “Shh, vse khorosho, kroshka (everything is okay, baby)”, she mumbled, wiping your tears, her lips pressing down on your forehead in a long kiss. “Mm, let’s go. Mommy will pick you up, okay?” You nodded your head, pulling completely away from her embrace as she stood up, gathering your stuff before crouching a little to slide her hands under your armpits. She hadn’t picked you up like that in a long while and you felt more than childish for it, but you also couldn’t lie to yourself, it brought you comfort.

“Watch your foot, sweetie”, she said softly as your thighs pressed on either side of her waist. “It doesn’t hurt too badly, does it?” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around her neck. You were starting to be too big to be held like that, especially when Natasha wasn’t the tallest woman out there, but she was one of the strongest, easily carrying you outside as you waved goodbye to coach Vargas over her shoulder.

Natasha helped you into the backseat of her car, thanking her lucky star that she hadn’t taken out her black Corvette Stingray into the city that day. She propped your foot on the row of seats, buckling you down before closing the door, driving straight to the nearest hospital while you cried silently in the backseat. You watched the blurry lights outside as you sped by buildings and streets, the sky pitch-black above you. Thankfully, the ride didn’t take long and you were soon sitting in a wheelchair on your way to a doctor’s office to be examined. She did a physical exam, twisting your foot in all directions until you began sobbing full force from how much it hurt, how much everything hurt, only for the doctor to conclude that she would need to take scans for an accurate diagnosis. So you waited in the waiting room for an MRI machine to be vacated, shivering in Natasha’s arms, engulfed in her huge fur coat to stay warm even though the shaking was purely from shock and not temperature related at all. She rocked you side to side, her lips pressing down against your temple as she hummed a random song to you in an attempt to soothe you. She tried to speak to you, but you refused to answer her from exhaustion, struggling to care about anything at all. You were in such a bad mood that you just sat still and stared ahead, curled up against your mother, your injured foot propped on a chair.

What felt like an eternity later you were finally taken into the MRI room where you had to strip bare from all your clothes, the cold room sending shivers down your spine as the assisting nurse dressed you into a thin gown that did nothing to cover you up. You were then helped into the machine, laying down on the uncomfortable table. You waited and you waited as the nurses gave you instructions, telling you not to move. They explained to you how it all worked, but you didn’t care enough to listen, staring above you at the ceiling as the machine whirred, scanning your foot from all sides to see if you had fractured your bones. Nothing could have made you feel better that night. Nothing. Yet you could tell that Natasha was trying her best once you limped out of the hospital with a cast on your foot and a pair of crutches, but it had no effect on you.

“Just drive home, mom”, you grumbled from your seat at the back as she reversed the car and backed away from the parking spot.

“You don’t want to grab a snack? We have nothing at home”, she reminded you, but you simply could not have cared any less. You could starve. It was whatever. “We could get your favorite?” She tried again, but you just glared at her through the rearview mirror.

“I wanna go home”, you reiterated, staring out the window like the parking lot had personally offended you somehow.

“Alright, zaika (bunny)”, she sighed, turning the car around and driving into the streets. She turned up the speakers for you, playing your feel-good playlist that did anything but make you feel good.

“Can you turn that off?” You asked two infuriatingly happy songs later, Natasha glancing back at you as if to confirm that you wanted the music gone. She was met with silence, so she turned the music down, stopping at a red light. Her hand reached for her phone, unlocking it to find the music app, scrolling for a different playlist since you were clearly not feeling the previous one. You waited in mild curiosity for whatever she was going to play, trying your best to keep up your sulking, wanting to prolong it out of spite. The car was filled with quiet, soft music, a gentle male voice soon singing out the first lines of the song. You knew the song. It was devastatingly beautiful, a sad, painful song, the kind that seemed to take up most of the space in Natasha’s music library. It made you frown in sorrow, the lyrics only amplifying your pain, and suddenly you felt immense remorse for being so grumpy. She was just trying to make you feel better. You let the tears fall, sitting in silence, glancing at Natasha every now and then as she hummed along to the music, speeding down the highway.

You were almost home, recognizing the familiar streets as she took the ramp to exit the highway, but she didn’t turn into the direction of the compound, taking the opposite turn to where a gas station stood. You sat up a little, moving your head off the window to see what was going on, Natasha pulling up to the drive through lane of a fast food restaurant. You sighed quietly.

“Mom, I said I don’t want anything”, you almost whined, longing for a shower and your bed, but when you were reminded that you would need help showering you suddenly only craved your bed and nothing else.

“I heard you”, she countered, sliding down the driver’s side window to be able to order. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be hungry”, she reasoned. You had called her right before she had gotten the chance to receive her main course which meant that she was running on breadsticks and a glass of wine. You didn’t respond to her words, leaning your head back against the window. She ordered your favorite meal with extra fries, paired with a caramel sundae, and once the scent of the food hit your nose, invading the entire car you started to regret your decision to pass on it, but you couldn’t do anything about it anymore without bruising your dignity so you sulked a little more as she started driving again.

“Here”, she hummed, handing the bag to you. “Leave me some fries, okay?” She said, taking a sip of the huge drink before giving it to you in the back. You received the food, feeling your lower lip tremble again. She had gotten you food anyway.

“But what about you? Weren’t you hungry?” You asked in a small voice, hesitant to unwrap the warm bag of food in your hands.

“It’s all for you, honey. Don’t worry about me”, she assured you, looking at you through the rearview mirror. “I’ll eat those leftovers from yesterday that you hated”, she promised in a gentle chuckle, smiling to herself when she heard the rustle of paper as you dug out the burger, grabbing a couple of fries before unwrapping the burger and taking a huge bite. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were, briefly reminded of the fact that the last thing you had eaten was a quick snack before practice which had been hours ago. A few bites later you saw Natasha’s hand reach over the console box of the car.

“Fry tax”, she smirked playfully, coaxing a small smile from you as you placed a handful of salty fries into the palm of her hand, Natasha feeling immense pride for managing to make you smile.

She helped you into the apartment, making sure everything was as easy as possible for you, immediately finding a towel for the shower you were going to take. You undressed yourself, allowing Natasha to wrap a plastic bag over the cast to prevent it from getting wet in the shower. You felt slightly uncomfortable because you knew that your body was changing, you were painfully aware that things were growing, you were growing, and you felt vulnerable for being exposed to someone else even if it was just your mother. She helped you into the shower and turned it on for you before leaving.

“Just call me if you need help, okay malyshka (baby)?” She hollered from outside as you squirted some shampoo into your hand.

“Okay!”

Natasha ate whatever was left of your burger meal, getting to finish over half of the fries because you hadn’t had enough room in your tummy for both fries and the sundae that you had clearly chosen over the salty side dish. She ate in silence, sipping on the soda that had been diluted by the melted ice, finding her phone to finally properly apologize to her date for having to take such a sudden rain check on their dinner, hoping that the woman would understand. Although it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if she didn’t since they had only met that day. Natasha had been talking to the woman for less than a week. She knew she wasn’t missing out on much because she wasn’t looking for anything serious in the first place. Sure, if she met someone incredibly amazing she would probably not retaliate, well maybe a little bit, but for now she was only looking to satisfy a more physical need, strictly keeping her emotions far, far away from anyone’s reach. It was what worked and what was the easiest.

When her date didn’t respond, she headed for the fridge, deciding to get herself something to drink, choosing to make some hot chocolate in the hopes of cheering you up with it. She was in the middle of topping the mugs off with whipped cream when you emerged from the shower, clearly struggling to keep your towel wrapped around your body as you used the crutches for support. It looked rather dangerous from Natasha’s perspective, water dripping to the floor from your hair and body, prompting Natasha to rush to your side for any kind of assistance you might have needed.

“Mom, I’m fine”, you grumbled, stilling to yank the towel up to hide your chest.

“I know you are”, she nodded, very familiar with your need to remain tough because you had gotten it from her no matter how Natasha had wished you hadn’t. There was nothing wrong with needing help and you knew that, but she had a feeling it was the combination of your prepubescent hormones and the accident that had made you so moody all of a sudden. She grabbed the corner of the towel, tucking it tightly into itself to keep the fabric securely over your body.

“Thanks”, you muttered, moving the crutches to take another step, Natasha opening the door for you.

“Where are your pajamas?” She asked, looking around the room, wanting to help you, but your face made her reconsider. “Okay”, she nodded when you didn’t respond to her. “I made hot chocolate. It’s on the kitchen counter.” You didn’t react to her words. “You can sleep with me tonight if you’d like. We could watch something before bed or talk”, she suggested kindly, knowing you were experiencing a lot of big feelings that you should definitely discuss with someone, but you didn’t seem too enthusiastic.

“I wanna sleep here”, you huffed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, shoving the crutches to the side, watching them clatter down onto the floor.

“Alright”, Natasha mumbled, biting the inside of her cheek to rein in her disappointment. You were rejecting every single one of her attempts at helping you and she no longer knew what to do about your predicament. “Did you want the cocoa? I could bring it to you.”

“No, just leave me alone”, you countered, patiently waiting for her to exit your room so you could get dressed and crawl into bed. She could see the irritation of your eyes, see the pain you were in both emotionally and physically, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

“Got it”, she said under her breath, moving to the door and closing it behind her. She returned into the kitchen and grabbed her hot chocolate, moving into the living room to find the small liquor cabinet in the corner, selecting herself a bottle of spiced rum that she used to spike her drink with. What a night, she mused, sitting herself down onto the couch to mindlessly watch some TV as she did her best to process the events of the evening.

The small changes in your personality scared her even though she knew them to be nothing but normal, but she could sense that a new chapter of your lives was beginning and the changes that would come made her nervous. It was very reasonable for you to be angry and frustrated over your injury, Natasha understood that, but it didn’t hurt any less to see you reject her help time and time again, especially when you were so clearly in distress. She wanted to comfort you so badly, but none of it mattered when you didn’t want to be comforted. She took a long sip of her drink. What if she wouldn’t survive your teenage years? What if everything went so horribly wrong all because Natasha didn’t know how to care for a moody teenager? There were going to be so many opportunities for her to fail you in every way possible that she found it incredibly overwhelming even when you were still at least a year away from being a teenager. She knew she was overreacting, but she couldn’t help but to fear the worst when you were the most important and valuable part of her life. She would hate to fail you.

Another thing that scared her was how you needed her less and less every day. She had spent over a decade tending to your every need, planned her entire life around you and you only, but it was all about to change, she could feel it. She would have to figure out how to let go of you, how to accept that you no longer needed her as much as what she was used to. She would have to get accustomed to your grumpy comments, your closed door, and her empty bed. She hoped with all her heart that you wouldn’t start rejecting her kisses and hugs, the thought of having to stay away from her own baby like that bringing tears to her eyes. It was ridiculous. She knew that your behavior was perfectly reasonable, yet she still felt like she had done something wrong, like she had caused it somehow.

After nearly falling asleep cuddling her empty mug, Natasha finally stood up from the couch and headed for her bedroom to get ready for bed. Once she was done she found her purse from the kitchen island, digging your medication out of its pockets, filling a tall glass with water to go with it. She knocked on your door as gently as possibly to avoid waking you up in case you had already fallen asleep, listening for your response. When you didn’t react she pushed the door open and walked to your bedside, placing a bottle of pills and the glass of water onto your nightstand just in case pain woke you up in the middle of the night. She looked at your relaxed face, brushing her hand over your hair affectionately, leaning down to kiss your forehead, wishing you good night in a quiet whisper paired with another kiss before leaving the room.

You hadn’t managed to fall asleep at all during the hour you had been actively trying to find a way to dreamland. Your ankle ached, pain shooting up and down your entire leg. You hated that you couldn’t change your position, having to lay on your back to keep your foot elevated and avoid any additional pain. On top of it all you were far too upset to find enough peace to be able to fall asleep. You were angry and sad over the accident. You were angry at yourself for failing so miserably at the kick you had been practicing, blaming yourself for breaking your ankle. You felt guilty for being so rude to your mother, but you simply couldn’t stand her comfort when you were seething from anger. You had felt even worse when she had come to bring you your medicine, feeling like you didn’t deserve to be treated so well because of your poor behavior. You had nearly caved and pretended to wake up when she had kissed your forehead so tenderly and told you that she loved you, but you were still angry and stubborn enough to give sleep another go, even if you knew that it wasn’t going to come. Thirty minutes later you sat up in your bed, reaching for the pills to rid yourself of the agonizing ache in your body, chugging down the glass of water to make sure the pill didn’t get stuck in your throat. You sat in the darkness of your bedroom, looking around, feeling so utterly inconsolable, knowing exactly how you could alleviate the feeling. You contemplated your options for a brief moment before you started to get up, blindly searching for your crutches.

You made your way into Natasha’s room, careful not to make a lot of noise, slowly but surely reaching the closed door of her bedroom. You nudged it open, slipping inside. It was pitch-black in the room, you could not see ahead at all, the blackout curtains doing their job exceptionally well. You felt around with the crutches, trying to make sure that nothing was in your way as you slowly moved into the direction of the bed, locating it with minimal effort since it was so big. You decided to lean the crutches against the bed so you could climb up beside your mother but for some reason the crutches had a vendetta against you, sliding off the edge of the bed and clattering incredibly loudly against the floor, waking Natasha up in an instant.

“Y/N?” Natasha frowned, turning the bedside lamp on to see you at the end of the bed. You winced in disappointment for having woken her up, ashamed that she had caught you searching for her comfort after rejecting her on multiple occasions. “Does your ankle hurt?” She asked in worry, eyeing you carefully, ready to help you in whatever ways necessary. “Did you find your meds on the nightstand?”

“Yeah, I did”, you mumbled, your fingertips playing with the covers on her bed. Your foot did hurt but Natasha was not capable of removing such pain. What you were looking to soothe was your mind, and you knew no one was as good at it as your mother was.

“You wanna sleep here?” She asked hopefully, earning a shy nod from you, tears already pooling into your eyes. “Come here, baby”, she whispered, pulling aside her duvet for you, finding an extra pillow for your foot. You sniffled quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed to scooch yourself beside her without disturbing your injured ankle. You lay down on your back, Natasha tucking you under the covers, briefly wiping away the tears that rolled down your temples.

“I’m sorry”, you whimpered. “I was mean to you”, you lamented, looking up at her as she lay beside you.

“You’re forgiven, dorogaya (darling). I know you must be feeling so much”, she hummed in understanding, her fingers caressing the side of your face.

“Yeah”, you admitted in a small whimper. “Can- can I have some cuddles?” You asked timidly, needing all the comfort you could get.

“Of course, dushenka (sweetheart)”, she nodded immediately, pulling you closer to her body, her lips finding your forehead in a gentle kiss. You twisted your upper body to the side to face her, pressing your head against her chest. “Would you like to talk about it, tell me how you’re feeling?” You weren’t sure if you felt like talking, your eyes stinging from both tears and how tired you were, but you nodded your head anyway. You knew talking would make you feel better especially whenever you talked with your mother.

“I’m just really sad”, you whispered into her chest, taking a small breath. “It was my fault”, you added, Natasha frowning at your words.

“What do you mean your fault?”

“I wasn’t good enough. I kicked too high and lost my footing”, you explained, wiping your eyes to avoid letting your tears fall.

“Malyshka (baby), it wasn’t your fault. Sometimes accidents happen and they’re no one’s fault”, she reasoned, playing gently with your hair.

“But if I had aimed better it wouldn’t have happened at all”, you whined, clutching her a little tighter, clearly wanting more of her touch. Natasha hugged you closer, tightening her hold on you.

“I know it’s easy to get stuck on what ifs, but there’s nothing you can do about it anymore. You fell and unfortunately got hurt, but we can’t go back in time, kroshka (little one), and blaming yourself is not going to make anyone feel better”, Natasha said quietly. “It sucks. I know it does. Mommy’s gotten hurt so many times”, she mused, brushing her hand over your hair. “I’ve injured my ankle too”, she added as an afterthought, reminded of an injury from long ago. “Actually, it happened in a similar way.”

“How did it happen?” You asked in curiosity, perking up a little at the shared experience.

“I was just a little older than you”, she started, brushing her finger down the bridge of your nose, the action making your eyes flutter shut immediately. You nuzzled closer, Natasha’s heart warming up in a familiar way as she shut her eyes to enjoy the feel of your body against her own, breathing in your scent. “I kicked… a target poorly”, she hummed, omitting the fact that the target had been a girl two years younger than her, and a considerable amount weaker than her. “Nearly missed it altogether. The power behind my kick bent my foot into the wrong direction and tore a ligament. It hurt a lot and took a long while to heal but I could still do loads of stuff”, she explained, leaving out the more gruesome details of the memory where she had brutally murdered her opponent despite her own injury.

“You could still do stuff?” You asked in a sad little groan. “I can’t do anything”, you grumbled.

“Not right away, solnishka (sunshine). But once the worst of it was over I was able to live life normally and I was still able to do fun stuff. After a couple of months I was back to my normal self”, she assured you, hoping her little story would make you feel seen and understood as well as provide you comfort.

“How long is it gonna take?” You asked softly, breathing in her perfume that still lingered on her skin and hair.

“The doctor said your fracture wasn’t severe and would most likely heal in a few weeks. Then you’ll do some physical therapy to strengthen those strong muscles of yours back to their prime, and boom, you’re as good as new”, she said playfully, tickling you a little. You giggled quietly, squirming a bit.

“But I’ll still miss the Spring season, won’t I?” You asked after your chuckles had died down.

“I’m afraid yes”, she admitted, kissing the top of your head.

“Mom, can I say a cuss word?” You asked suddenly, making Natasha grin widely.

“Go ahead, myshka (little mouse)”, she chuckled.

“This is f*cking bullsh*t”, you grumbled quietly, not really used to cussing in front of your mother because you barely cussed at all.

“You couldn’t be any more correct”, she agreed, making you giggle. “Such f*cking bullsh*t”, she muttered into your hair, your smile only widening at having your feelings validated.

Chapter 38: July

Chapter Text

The jet you were on landed on a vast field in the middle of nowhere, the smell of nature hitting your nose the second the door opened and you were allowed to exit the aircraft carrying your pretty, purple suitcase into the hay that reached your waist. You waited for Steve, Clint, and your mother to join you as well before starting to walk toward the small gravel road that would take you to the farmhouse that Clint called his home. The day was nearing noon, the sun in the sky blazing down on you with full force, sweat trickling down your back as you yanked the suitcase over the rubble on the ground, huffing quietly when it wouldn’t move. Before you realized it, the suitcase was lifted off the ground by Steve who carried it for you because it weighed to him as much as a feather did to you. He had taken Natasha’s luggage as well, acting like the gentleman that he had always been. The flight to the Barton farm hadn’t taken long on one of the jets from the compound. It had barely been long enough for your excitement to die down, but once you saw the house and heard a dog bark, you were right back at the giddiness that you had been feeling since morning. You took a few running steps toward the house before bolting to meet an ecstatic dog that raced right into your arms with so much enthusiasm it felt like you knew the dog beforehand.

“Lucky!” You screamed when the one-eyed golden retriever you had seen pictures of nearly knocked you down onto the ground. He was followed by Nathaniel and eventually Laura who had an affectionate smile on her face as she watched all of you walk down the road to the house. You hadn’t visited the Bartons in a long while, but it had finally come time to say goodbye to the farm since the older kids were moving out. The house and lands were simply too big for Laura and Nathaniel, especially since Clint was away from home a lot of the time, so you had all decided to come spend one more weekend at the farm to give it the goodbye it deserved. Lucky bounced around you for a moment before curiosity got the best of him and he charged down the road to greet the rest of the visitors.

“Hi, Nate!” You chirped, walking up to him, lifting your hand to give him a casual high five which you both preferred over a hug.

“Nice to see you”, he smirked before allowing you to run up the steps to greet Laura. You peeked inside through the entrance before hugging Laura, noticing that the house was full, Lila and her boyfriend in the kitchen, some dark haired woman in the living room with Cooper. You heard someone laugh loudly, the sound deep and raspy, your eyes flashing open as you pulled back from Laura’s embrace. You looked up at her in shock, her face morphing into a small smile.

“Yes, it’s her”, she confirmed, your jaw nearly falling off its hinges.

“No way!” You cried, running past her into the house. You could barely handle your excitement when you saw her in the living room, letting out a pure scream of joy at the sight of Yelena on the couch with a bowl of chips in her hands.

“Look at that”, she mused in mild surprise, her accent just as thick as always. She placed the bowl on the coffee table as she stood up, rushing to you. “My favorite niece!” She cheered, gathering you into her embrace with such endeavor that you were lifted off the ground. You giggled loudly, hugging her as tightly as possibly as you wrapped your legs around her waist, squeezing her with all your might.

“What are you? Fifteen? You’re growing so fast!” Yelena marveled, holding you tightly.

“No!” You chuckled. “I just turned twelve”, you reminded her. “You even sent me a birthday card”, you pointed out, Yelena grinning widely.

“You’re getting so tall”, she muttered as she set you down.

“I’ve grown an entire inch since we last saw”, you stated proudly.

“No way!”

“Does mom know you’re here?” You asked in excitement, glancing back at the porch.

“She has no idea”, Yelena smirked, following your gaze to the door where you could see Natasha hugging Laura, Lucky striding back into the house and right to the brown haired girl in the kitchen. You eyed her for a moment, wondering who she was and what she was doing there since you didn’t recognize her.

“Yelena”, you heard Natasha gasp in very obvious disbelief, prompting you to turn back around again. You backed away from Yelena with a huge grin on your lips once you realized that Natasha was walking right into Yelena’s arms, a little more pep in her step than before. Natasha nearly sank into her sister’s embrace, holding her tightly, almost as if in relief. They hadn’t seen each other in months and Natasha had clearly missed her if the long hug was anything to go by. “What are you doing here?” Natasha asked as she pulled away, kissing Yelena’s forehead and cheek, the latter whining out a brief “ew” as she tried to swat Natasha’s lips away from her. “Glad to see you missed me too”, Natasha grumbled in sarcasm, feigning offense for being rejected, but Yelena’s smirk faltered regardless.

“I did miss you”, she assured her immediately, growing a bit more serious, the corners of her mouth twitching down the slightest bit, prompting Natasha to bring her back into a hug. Yelena squeezed Natasha just a little tighter than she had the first time, hesitant to let go even as the house got filled by the rest of the guests, everyone greeting each other with enthusiasm. You observed the people around you with great curiosity, your gaze shifting from Steve and Laura to Clint who was hugging that brown haired woman.

“Alright, enough. You’re hugging me longer than my kids did”, Clint chuckled, pushing her away from him, the young woman smiling brightly, clearly ecstatic to see him.

“You brought Captain America and the Black Widow!” She hissed, trying to be discreet but failing miserably.

“Hey! I’m a Widow too”, Yelena reminded the woman, her voice squeaking a bit, Natasha turning to look at the brown haired woman.

“Yeah, but she’s the Black Widow, you know?” She defended herself, Natasha raising a brow at her, impressed by the compliment, but the look only made the woman shiver in her sneakers, like she wasn’t quite sure if Natasha was happy about it or not. Natasha smirked, glad to know that she still possessed her ability to intimidate strangers.

“Who are you?” She asked rather bluntly, the woman looking like she wanted to run away.

“Kate… B-Bishop”, she stuttered, offering her hand to Natasha. “Huge fan”, she added with a nervous, little smile as Natasha squeezed her hand firmly. “… of everything you do. You’re so badass. So cool. Wow”, she blabbered, looking at Natasha like she couldn’t quite believe that she was standing right in front of her. “And Captain America too, of course”, Kate added, glancing at Steve like she was starstruck. “You’re- you’re, you are amazing.”

“You are being so uncool right now”, Yelena groaned dramatically in that broad, powerful voice of hers, not bothering to keep her comments to herself. “I told you to be cool”, she bemoaned, covering her eyes with her hand, clearly fed up with Kate.

“Mm, Kate”, Natasha hummed knowingly, Kate’s eyes only widening.

“You know about me?” She asked in disbelief, Natasha nodding softly.

“Clint’s been on my ass about a reckless teenager ruining his life. That must be you”, Natasha mused, ignoring Yelena’s complaints.

“Yeah, we had a mission to complete”, Kate said sheepishly. “Things didn’t go as expected”, she hummed.

“They never do”, Natasha agreed, an amused smirk lingering on her face. She was mildly tempted to do something to spook Kate out but she decided to let the poor girl be, at least for the time being. “Are you coming to pick strawberries with us?” She asked conversationally, Kate nodding her head.

“That’s the plan.”

“Who’s coming?” Laura asked, looking around the kitchen and living room to see who was willing to help pick multiple buckets of berries from the nearby farm. Your hand shot up in an instant, Natasha smiling at your excitement. Kate lifted her hand up as well, Yelena laughing quietly.

“What are you, five?” Yelena muttered, Kate scrunching her nose at her. Natasha and Yelena both confirmed that they were coming along as well, the rest choosing to stay at the farm to help the kids move their belongings out of their rooms as well as complete whatever work needed to be done before the farm could be sold.

“You must be Natasha’s girl”, Kate hummed politely, turning to you once the commotion had died down. You nodded, smiling softly as you offered your hand to the incredibly beautiful woman.

“Yeah, my name is Y/N”, you said as she squeezed your hand, your cheeks heating from how pretty her blue eyes were.

“Mind if I hang out with you today?” She asked carefully, wanting to make sure she was welcome to avoid ruining your weekend of fun.

“No, I don’t mind. You seem to know Yelena pretty well. How’d you meet?” You asked, intrigued by their history since you had never heard of Kate before.

“Ah, it’s a long story”, Kate sighed, but she continued on, the conversation between you flowing rather naturally.

You ate a small snack of sandwiches and juice before hopping on the back of an old pickup truck with Yelena and Kate, Natasha and Laura sitting in the front. You drove for a few minutes to the next farm on the land, the grounds covered in rows of strawberry plants, your excitement only growing as you finally hopped out of the truck with Yelena and Kate bickering behind you.

“Here’s your bucket”, Natasha hummed softly, handing you the large container before placing a wide brimmed hat on you to shelter you from the ruthless sun. She added some more sunscreen on your arms that were bared by your tank top, receiving a small whine from you.

“Mom, it’s not cool to use sunscreen”, you grouched, Natasha giving you a chastising look.

“Yes, it is. Safety is the coolest thing you can do”, she reasoned, rubbing the lotion into your skin as you looked at Kate and Yelena in jealousy, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“But Kate and Yelka aren’t wearing any”, you protested, trying to pull away, but Natasha didn’t let you slip away from her.

“That’s because they’re idiots”, Natasha smirked, making you laugh. “Don’t you worry, malyshka (baby). I’ll make sure they’re wearing some too.” She rubbed your arms down for a final time before letting go of you. “Yelena?”

“What?” Yelena asked, turning to Natasha, clearly not having heard your conversation.

“Come here”, Natasha ordered, squeezing some sunscreen into her hand.

“Oh, no you are not- No”, Yelena cried immediately, backing away from Natasha who seemed even more pleased by her sister’s reaction.

“I love it when they scream”, she chuckled playfully, charging after Yelena, nearly tackling her to the ground as she slapped the sunscreen into her face.

“Ty svoloch! Otyyebis ot menya! (You jerk! Get the f*ck away from me!)” Yelena groaned, trying to push Natasha’s hands away, but it was too late, Yelena’s face covered in a thick layer of sunscreen, Natasha not even trying to hide the pleased, little grin on her lips.

“Takaya umnitsa (such a good girl)”, Natasha said with a sh*t-eating grin on her face, squishing Yelena’s cheeks as she praised her in the most teasing way she knew how which only aggravated Yelena even further.

“Suchka (bitch/diminutive)”, Yelena grumbled in defeat, allowing Natasha to rub the sticky mess into her face and down her neck and shoulders. Yelena merely sneered at Natasha once she was finally done, but when Yelena saw the joyous look on your face she decided that wearing sunscreen wasn’t all that bad especially if it made you feel better.

“Kate?” Natasha said in an assertive tone that Kate wouldn’t have needed in the slightest, Yelena smirking widely at the way Kate scrambled to Natasha hastily, standing obediently in front of her so she could get her fair share of sunscreen to avoid having to go against the Black Widow. You laughed quietly as you watched Natasha spread the sunscreen over Kate’s cheeks, her eyes wide and alert. You found it incredibly funny that Kate was scared of your mother, the entire scene more than comical, making you feel infinitely better about having to wear sunscreen.

You knelt down between the rows of strawberry, lifting the leaves to discover clusters of perfectly ripe strawberries, the first ten or maybe even twenty that you picked going right into your mouth, the bucket remaining empty. The fruits were perfectly ripened in the sun, packed with such an intense flavor that you felt like you were eating candy, struggling to put a single strawberry into the bucket. You heard Yelena groan in pleasure from the other end of the row, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“These are so good!” Yelena announced, so that everyone would surely hear her, Kate laughing quietly, wiping her own mouth from the red juice that dripped down her chin.

“Maybe you guys should focus more on filling your buckets than eating”, Laura pointed out, her trained hands nipping handfuls of strawberries in mere seconds.

“Ah, where’s the fun in that? I came here to eat”, Yelena countered shamelessly, Natasha rolling her eyes, although she failed to hide her smile at her sister’s antics as she slipped a plump strawberry past her lips. They were heavenly, and nobody could deny that.

Picking strawberries was fun for the first thirty minutes but when your knees and back started aching, the merciless sun burning your body from all angles, and your stomach packed so full you couldn’t breathe, you started to resent the stupid activity, growing more tired by the minute. Not to mention the fact that your ankle was starting to hurt a bit from being in such a poor angle for a long time. You hadn’t worn a cast for weeks and had been doing your physical therapy diligently, but it was still sensitive at times which only added to your frustration.

“Ow!” You heard Kate cry, your attention shifting to the two younger adults who could not stop bickering for the life of them.

“You’re picking my strawberries!” Yelena whined like a child.

“No, this is my side”, Kate countered immediately, pushing Yelena away from her ground.

“No, it’s not!” Yelena gasped in offense. “That side is yours. This is mine”, she argued, pointing behind Kate where there was an unoccupied row of strawberries.

“You’re stealing!” Kate accused.

“Am not!” Yelena shrieked in an appalled tone, continuing to pick the fruit as fast as possible, her bucket filling up rather quickly. You watched their fight in amusem*nt, completely forgetting to pick any fruits at all. You saw Kate reach for Yelena’s bucket when the latter turned her back on it, Kate pouring nearly half of the strawberries into her own bucket, swiftly returning it to Yelena’s side once she was done, but the loud gasp Yelena let out told you that Kate’s ruse had not gone unnoticed. “How dare you?”

“I’m simply taking back what’s mine”, Kate reasoned, trying to protect her bucket as Yelena reached over the plants to the other side. “No, you are not touching them!” Kate grumbled, grabbing the handle of the bucket to prevent Yelena from taking it, both of them tugging the container into opposite directions.

“I picked them!” Yelena whined, a soft sigh sounding from Natasha. You turned around to look at her

“Yeah, from my bench!” Kate pointed out.

“They’re such children”, you chuckled, Natasha nodding immediately.

“I couldn’t agree more with you”, Natasha mused.

“Why is Yelka so childish? Even I’m not that silly and I’m twelve”, you asked in mild confusion. You couldn’t comment on Kate’s behavior because you didn’t know enough about her to make any judgements of her character. “She’s supposed to be a grownup.” Natasha’s smile disappeared at your question, her eyes moving down to the green leaves beneath her hands.

“We didn’t have it easy when we were children”, she hummed. “We didn’t get to act like children. We didn’t have the privilege to grow at our own pace”, she explained, trying not to sound as grim as she felt. “Sometimes the things we experience in our childhood leave a mark.” Natasha stayed quiet for a while before continuing. “I don’t think she is actually as childish as she seems. I feel like she chooses to act that way because it feels comforting, because she wasn’t allowed to act her age when she was a child”, Natasha said in thought, earning a small nod from you.

“I think it makes her super fun”, you pointed out, Natasha’s smile returning.

“It does. There’s no one more fun than Auntie Yelka”, she chuckled fondly, turning her gaze at Yelena and Kate right as the bucket they were sawing back and forth flew in the air, the strawberries scattered all over the field.

“Look what you did, dolboyeb!” Yelena groaned in annoyance, Natasha looking at her with a small, angry glare.

“Yelena!” Natasha exclaimed suddenly, Yelena’s eyes widening when their gazes met. She had clearly forgotten that a child was present. “Sledi za yazykom (Watch your language)”, Natasha grumbled.

“Don’t ever use that word, okay?” She said to you in a firm command, your eyes widening.

“Why not?” You frowned in confusion, not recognizing the word for a very good reason.

“It’s a really mean thing to say”, Natasha mumbled.

“Then why’s Yelena using it?”

“Cause she’s a dumbass”, Natasha smirked, making you laugh.

You ended up picking almost a full bucket of strawberries by the time you were ready to leave. It was heavy to carry but you insisted on taking it to the truck all by yourself, proud of your little achievement. Yelena and Kate were no longer on talking terms, both of them sulking in the back of the truck among the buckets of strawberries, but you refused to let them ruin the day for you, focusing on the scenery instead, the warm July wind whooshing in your ears as you leaned over the railing a bit to really let the wind ruffle you up. However, by the time you had carried the buckets into the kitchen Yelena and Kate were already laughing and teasing each other like nothing had happened. You found it rather odd. You could tell they were close, yet it seemed like they hated each other’s guts.

“Mom”, you whispered, nudging her gently as you were removing the hulls off the strawberries so that Laura could start making jam out of them.

“What milaya (honey)?” Natasha hummed, sinking the knife in her hand into the soft fruit.

“Do you think Yelena likes Kate, like more than friends, like girlfriends?” You asked a little awkwardly, not sure if she got what you were trying to say, Natasha’s eyes shifting to the two women who were laughing loudly, Yelena throwing a strawberry hull into Kate’s face. It made Natasha smile an involuntary smile as she turned back to you.

“No, they’re just friends. Yelena doesn’t want romance in her life”, Natasha explained. “She doesn’t feel sexual attraction.”

“How come?”

“There’s something called an aromantic asexual. Those are people who don’t feel sexual attraction or romantic feelings towards others. They don’t like boys, girls, or anything in between”, she hummed softly, offering you a small smile.

“Could I be like that? I don’t have any crushes yet, but everyone else does”, you asked with a small pout, clearly upset by the thought.

“You’re so young, honey. You’ve barely met any people in this world”, she chuckled. “You have time to find yourself a crush”, she assured you, brushing her clean hand over your cheek affectionately. “But if aromantic feels right for you then that is perfectly okay. Not everyone has to want romantic relationships”, she reminded you, leaning closer to kiss your head. You seemed to linger on the topic in your mind, clearly in thought as you continued to hull the strawberries, but you didn’t speak again.

You eventually moved on to helping Lila whip up cake batter for a strawberry cake that you had agreed to make as dessert for the big barbecue dinner you were having. You liked baking a lot, especially when you got to steal small taste tests of the batter whenever others weren’t looking. You cracked four eggs into a large glass bowl as Lila read the recipe that her grandmother had scribbled onto a worn down notepad, squinting as she tried to decipher what the squiggly, cursive longhand was trying to tell her to do next. You heard a quiet jingle of a bell, a light orange, striped cat jumping onto the kitchen table, clearly in search of something to steal. You grinned widely.

“Hello, Sargent”, you hummed, reaching your hand over a bag of flour that was on the table to pet the old cat.

“Oh, look who finally showed up. I thought you had passed on, Pupsik (Cutie)”, Natasha crooned, clearly very affectionate toward the cat whom she refused to call by his real name, always resorting to Pupsik for whatever reason. You liked the name she had given him, finding the word rather funny-sounding. Natasha ditched her knife and strawberries, picking the cat off the table to give him an onslaught of kisses. “You’re so fluffy, aren’t you? So fluffy”, she blabbered, petting the cat that butted his head into her jaw and chin, clearly pleased by the attention he was receiving.

“We should get a cat”, you pointed out suddenly, immediately catching Natasha’s attention.

“You’d want one?” She asked as she swayed Sargent from side to side like she was holding a baby.

“Yes! Or a dog”, you exclaimed, immediately excited by the idea, gently whisking the eggs as Lila added sugar and butter into them. “I would take such good care of it”, you assured her, smiling brightly, doing your best to seem convincing. Natasha hummed in thought, clearly going over it in her head.

“Hmm, we’ll have to see”, she mused, seeming slightly hesitant but she was clearly not opposed to the idea.

“I swear. You wouldn’t even notice we have a pet ‘cause I’d take such good care of it. I’d do everything. Seriously, I’d feed it, play with it, take it outside, clean after it”, you continued, wanting to do your very best to assure her that you knew what you were asking for. Natasha gave you a look of suspicion.

“You’d clean pee and poo off the floors?” She asked in a mild challenge, earning nothing but an enthusiastic nod, although Natasha had a feeling that you were not to be trusted.

“I swear, I would train it to be the best pet ever”, you stated with enthusiasm, looking at Natasha with a certain sparkle in your eye that nearly made Natasha melt. You whisked the batter again as Lila continued to add more ingredients into the bowl.

“Do you think she’s telling the truth?” Natasha asked Sargent in a soft, little coo, scratching the cat under his chin. “Does she look like a good kitty owner?” Sargent let out a low purr as he squirmed in Natasha’s arms, looking for an even more comfortable position.

“Momm”, you groaned in annoyance, a hint of amusem*nt mixed in your tone as you dipped your fingers in the mixed cake batter, Lila stealing the bowl from you.

“What? Pupsik’s opinion matters the most. He’s a pet after all. He represents his own kind”, Natasha reasoned, still absolutely enamored by the cat who she loved so dearly.

“Well, what is he saying then?” You asked impatiently, glancing at Lila who transferred the batter into a cake pan, scooping the sides of the bowl to get every last drop before handing the spatula in her hand for you to lick, knowing you would clean it up better than the dishwasher could.

“He says he’ll think about it”, Natasha replied playfully, kissing the cat’s neck as her left hand continued to scratch him.

“You better say yes”, you whispered to the cat in a warning tone as you licked white cake batter off the spatula, pleased that Lila had left some extra for you. Natasha chuckled quietly, moving to Laura’s side once noticing she was finished with the grill skewers.

“Honey, why don’t you take the chicken outside for Clint to grill? Me and Pupsik will discuss the matter while you’re away”, she hummed, giving you a small smirk that made you want to roll your eyes, but you did as told anyway, receiving the large plate that she handed to you from the kitchen counter where Laura was cutting up vegetables while simultaneously making sure she didn’t burn the huge pot of jam she had started making.

Somehow the making and the eating of the dinner passed by in a blur, the afternoon soon turning into evening, everyone at the farm starting to wrap up what they were doing to be able to enjoy the nighttime in good company before going to bed to rest for another day of work ahead. You set up a campfire just outside the house, wanting to enjoy the annual tradition once more before the farm would be sold. The fire was lit in the same spot as always, a bunch of logs and small travel chairs surrounding the huge fire pit so everyone would fit into the circle. The flames crackled loudly amidst the lively chatter of the family, booming laughter sounding in the dimness of the night. Sure, the fire was cool, and the people were lovely, but what was even more exciting was the fact that you were making s’mores. You stabbed an iron skewer through your marshmallow that was nearly the size of your fist, sticking the candy into the orange flames, nearly too impatient to wait for it to melt in your desired way. Yelena had at least five marshmallows on her skewer, all of them lighting up in flames in mere seconds but she managed to salvage them by swinging them in the air until the fire was out. The outside of the marshmallows was black and crusty but Yelena didn’t seem to mind, eating them with a huge grin on her lips, completely disregarding the chocolate and graham crackers.

Once your marshmallow was nicely toasted, you pulled it out of the fire and turned to Natasha who had the crackers and chocolate ready for you, sandwiching the marshmallow between them so that you could pull out the skewer with ease. You sat down beside Natasha with your little treat, leaning against her shoulder to get more comfortable as you bit into the s’more, the warm marshmallow sticking to your lips. You looked up at the starry sky that was splayed over you like a huge blanket, studying whatever constellations you could find while you ate, the scent of burning wood filling your nose. You felt safe, your body and mind relaxing in the comforting environment as your family shared stories from the farm, the Barton’s reminiscing what their lives had been like when the kids had been small. Clint told everyone how Laura and him had come to buy the farm in the first place, Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel recalling all kinds of events that had taken place on the patch of land that they wouldn’t soon be able to call home anymore, although you had a feeling that to them it was always going to be home, no matter who lived in that beautiful farmhouse. You were slightly surprised by how many stories your mother seemed to have regarding the Barton kids, especially from when you hadn’t even been born yet. Sometimes you forgot for how long Clint and Natasha had known each other, making you experience an odd sense of longing, wishing you could have been there as well, but at least you got to hear a bunch of silly stories that made your mother laugh harder than you had seen her laugh in a long time. You also got to know more about Kate, where she had come from and who she was. You learned that her and Clint had somewhat of a strange, father-daughter relationship that was purely the result of Kate’s persistency, and no matter how much he tried to tell everyone that he found Kate annoying, everybody could tell he couldn’t quite say it as seriously as he probably would have wished to.

Dozens of stories and four s’mores later you and Nathaniel excused yourselves to go set up your bed on the trampoline that had yet to be dismantled after getting the most genius idea to spend the night outside because nothing could be as fun as sleeping somewhere where you shouldn’t. You somehow convinced the adults to let you bring your pillows and blankets to the trampoline where you would have the most epic sleepover of the decade. It didn’t take long for the others to leave the campfire as well, Lila and her boyfriend clearly in need of some privacy after spending all day with family, Cooper going back to his room to sort through his childhood toys. Yelena and Kate ended up going for a walk with Lucky, leaving Natasha, Steve, Clint, and Laura alone by the fire. Natasha was sat between Steve’s legs on the ground as a result of trying to make more space for everyone, fast asleep against him, Laura eyeing them curiously all the way from the other side of the circle.

“Do you think they’re a thing? They have to be”, Laura whispered, her arms wrapped around Clint’s bicep as her head rested against his shoulder.

“They’re not”, he chuckled, eyeing the two of them as Steve held Natasha delicately against him, making sure she was comfortable even in his sleep.

“Oh, come on, look at them”, Laura moaned, making Clint smirk widely. “They would be perfect for each other”, she reasoned, feeling such joy for having her husband back, happy to be with her favorite gossip partner once again.

“I think she likes women”, he countered, Laura pulling away from him.

“What?”

“Yeah, she never talks about it but I don’t think she likes men at all”, he explained, Laura giving him a look.

“Why? Because she never hit on you?” She asked teasingly, Clint rolling his eyes.

“For one, yes”, he nodded. “Who wouldn’t want to get with all this”, he chuckled sarcastically, pointing at himself rather obnoxiously, Laura muffling her laugh into his shoulder to avoid disturbing Steve and Natasha, careful not to wake them up. “I just know it. I can tell”, he added in a much gentler tone.

“How?”

“Look at her”, he chuckled affectionately. “She’s so gay… In the nicest way possible, of course”, he hummed as if in thought, pausing for a moment. “I just really hope she’s happy. I need her to be happy”, he added in a whisper, feeling Laura rub his arm comfortingly.

“I’m sure she’s alright”, she said softly. “From what I’ve gathered, she seems happy”, she assured, Clint giving her a sad smile.

“I just… I feel like she’s lonely”, he whispered, glancing at Natasha’s slumped form in worry. “Everyone’s got their own lives now. The compound isn’t the same as it used to be”, he lamented.

“She’s got her own life as well”, Laura reminded him gently. “She has Y/N, and Yelena… you”, she nudged him slightly. “She’s got people”, she stated confidently.

“I know, but… I feel like she deserves more”, he reasoned quietly, Laura’s sad frown only deepening.

“She does deserve more, but honey, you’re not responsible for that”, she hummed, her eyes moving to the embers in the pit.

“Yeah, you’re right, but I can’t help but to feel like I am. I love her so much. She’s like a sister to me. I can’t live in a world where she’s unhappy”, he mumbled, eyes fixed on Natasha’s form.

“Baby, she’s right there. She’s okay”, Laura tried, but Clint was unwilling to listen to her.

“I can’t shake this feeling I have. She’s like a wolf that will hide away to die alone. She won’t let you know if she’s hurting”, Clint countered in thought.

“Have you asked her about it?” Laura inquired, hoping to somehow offer a solution to his anguish.

“No, but I think I’m gonna at some point”, he mused.

“I think that’s for the best”, Laura agreed, glancing up at the dark sky, patting him in a way that let him know it was time to go back inside. “Let’s go get some sleep”, she hummed affectionately, her hands giving him a squeeze in an attempt to comfort him, Steve blinking his eyes open when he heard the pair get up and start to snuff out the embers that were left in the fire pit. Steve glanced down at Natasha who was still sound asleep, a soft smile spreading on his lips. She had a tendency to fall asleep on him every once in a while and he would never get tired of it, truly valuing the bond he and Natasha had formed over the span of many years. He cradled her into his arms like she was nothing but a child with the help of his super soldier strength, bidding good night to Clint and Laura before taking Natasha back inside where she could sleep peacefully through the night.

Spending a night outside was all fun and games until the wind wouldn’t stop rustling the leaves of the nearby trees. You stared up at the stars, glancing at Nathaniel who was just as on edge as you were, gripping his blanket with both hands as if someone was about to snatch it from him. It was much colder outside than you had expected, the morning dew slowly starting to make an appearance, your blankets and pillows turning damp and uncomfortable. The trampoline was far from soft like you had imagined, your shoulder and back aching from laying on the hard surface. You had your phone with you in case of emergency, but you were too focused on the quiet cracks of twigs that sounded from the forest that wasn’t too far away from you to scroll through anything at all. You wanted back inside and you wanted to crawl next to your mother because quite frankly Nathaniel was not providing you with any kind of comfort. There was a louder crack, your heart in your throat as you nudged Nathaniel harshly.

“Did you hear that?” You hissed, sitting up to look around.

“No, it’s probably nothing”, he mumbled, clearly trying to act tough and convince himself that there was nothing to worry about. He was fourteen after all, he was old enough to spend a night outside. But the next time a crack sounded in the vicinity you both sat up to look around you in the dark, horrified looks on your faces as you imagined what kind of dangers lie in the corners you couldn’t see into.

“What if it’s an ax murderer?” Nathaniel whimpered.

“Shut up!” You whined, swatting his blanket covered body.

“I just saw this movie”, he began, but never got the chance to finish, your pillow flying in his face. You were too on edge to hear about any scary stories.

“Shut your ass up!” You groaned, but both of you halted completely when you heard another twig snap, loud rustling coming from somewhere around you as if an animal was charging at you. Nathaniel turned to look at you with pure horror on his face right as something leapt up onto the trampoline, attacking you both. You screamed as loud as you could, damp, furry paws trampling you, a warm and wet tongue licking your face. You heard Nathaniel yelp as he backed away from the beast, low laughter echoing from the woods as two pairs of footsteps sounded in the gravel.

“Enough, Lucky. Come here, boy”, Yelena commanded, the dog jumping off you, hurrying back to Kate and Yelena who were both trying not to laugh as hard as they would have wanted to. You just stared at them in the dark with a look of terror that you couldn’t wipe off your face.

“Yelena!” you cried, infuriated by the trick they had pulled on you as you grabbed your shoe from the edge of the trampoline, throwing it right at her, Kate ducking it swiftly, both her and Lucky backing away from you.

“What? We just wanted to say hi”, Yelena protested, eliciting a small growl from you.

“Then say hi like normal people!” You screeched, throwing Nathaniel’s shoes at her as well, Yelena directing each footwear item to the ground with her hands to avoid getting hit. When you ran out of ammunition you clambered up from your makeshift bed and ran after her, Nathaniel completely dumbfounded by the entire encounter, but he would later follow suit.

You ran through the wet grass after Yelena, not caring that it was cold and that your pajama bottoms were getting wet. You wanted revenge. You briefly noted the light blue sky in the East, the sun in the beginning stages of rising, but you didn’t stay to marvel at it for any longer, running back into the house and right past the swinging porch light that Yelena had hit her head on. You barged inside, Lucky barking in excitement at all the action, Kate trying to silence him as Natasha’s head shot up from the couch to see what on earth was going on. Kate doubled down her efforts on getting the dog to stop barking, far too nervous to know what Natasha would have to say about it, but it didn’t really matter when you and Yelena were screaming in that very specific way that only siblings did.

“What the hell is going on?” Natasha grumbled, clearly very groggy as she rubbed her eye, her messy hair making her look a lot less threatening to Kate’s utter relief.

“Uh, we decided to scare Y/N and Nate. They, um, they didn’t like that”, Kate explained in a breathy voice as she held onto Lucky so he wouldn’t cause more trouble.

“Are you messing with my child?” Natasha asked in a low threat, just to scare Kate.

“No, ma’am”, she whispered. “It was all Yelena’s idea.”

“Sounds about right”, Natasha sighed knowingly, standing up from the couch to break up the bickering in the kitchen before knives would get involved. She put the lights on so she could see better, squinting at the brightness of the lamp. She grabbed your arm to pull you away from Yelena, your exasperated face turning to meet Natasha’s tired one.

“Could you do this sometime when it’s not five in the morning?” Natasha asked in an unimpressed voice, both you and Yelena pausing.

“She scared us!” You whined loudly, tears threatening to pool into your eyes, Natasha glancing back at Yelena angrily, cupping your face to give you a bit of comfort.

“I know, honey. Why don’t you take this and hit her as hard as you can for me, okay?” Natasha suggested, handing you a ladle, Yelena giving her a look of disbelief. Natasha just shrugged. “I’m too tired to do it myself. But just once, malyshka (baby).” You nodded, smiling brightly with the ladle in your hand, Natasha watching with great amusem*nt as you swatted Yelena in the arm with the kitchenware to properly get your revenge. It was followed by a loud “ow” and lots of laughter from both you and Yelena.

“Remind me to never prank you again”, Yelena chuckled, holding her stinging arm. You weren’t strong enough to really hurt her but you did manage to muster enough power to make Yelena feel it. “And you”, Yelena grumbled, looking at Natasha. “Oh, I’m going to get your ass tomorrow”, she assured her, Natasha merely smirking her way, knowing that she could take her sister any day.

Laura emerged from upstairs, frowning at the commotion that she had heard while she had gotten dressed for the day, invading the kitchen to make herself breakfast before she would head out to feed the chickens. Natasha trudged back onto the couch, sinking into the cushions to go back to sleep as Yelena and Kate did the same. You lingered in the kitchen with Nathaniel, shivering from the cold, your wet feet only amplifying the chilliness of the early morning. You sat at the table with him and Sargent, patiently waiting for the warm bowls of porridge Laura was preparing for you to ease the hunger that your fear had induced. She topped the breakfast dish off with fresh strawberries and peanut butter, bringing you both blankets to wrap yourselves into to stave off the cold while the porridge warmed you up from the inside. You and Nathaniel ended up sleeping until noon to recover from the eventful night, but no one seemed bothered because that’s what you were supposed to do on a Summer vacation. By morning, or rather noon, the events of the night were nothing but a funny memory, all of you laughing openly at how silly it had been that you and Nathaniel had thought a bear or a murderer had attacked you.

The day was filled with occasional melancholy over the goodbye that lie ahead. You were sad that you would never get to visit the farm again, at least not the way you had been able to before. You felt bad for the dozens of chickens that would be sold with the farm. They were so fun to run around with, especially when you got to chase them. You had a very specific memory of being no more than six years old, chasing the chickens around after having left the coop door open for too long. It made you sad, even if the chickens weren’t yours.

“What’s gonna happen to Sugar and Cappuccino?” You asked quietly, chucking the leftover grains to the chickens at your feet, your gaze turning to Lila. “Are you selling them too?”

“No, I could never”, she said in all seriousness, offering you a small smile. “They’re coming with me to the nearest stable I can find”, she assured you, moving down to the stables where a large dark brown horse stood. You shut the door to the chicken coop, hurrying after Lila.

“Could I ride Cappuccino one more time?” You asked pleadingly. “To say goodbye”, you added hastily, giving Lila a small pout.

“Yeah, sure. I think she would love it as well”, Lila assured you, patting the horse’s muzzle.

You had ridden both of the horses over the course of many years, although you weren’t very skilled, but you didn’t need to be. You liked to walk and stride around the grounds, sitting on the saddle. Sometimes you even went into the woods, but only if Lila was coming with you because they were her horses, and she knew exactly how to handle them if anything were to happen, especially since the horses were rather large and difficult for a child to control. You got dressed into appropriate attire while Lila got both Cappuccino and Sugar ready for a riding session, Lila settling for the white horse. You hopped up onto the saddle with a bit of Lila’s help before you were free to ride around the grounds however you pleased. You loved the wind in your ears, the feel of the huge animal beneath you, the bounce throughout your entire body.

You went around the lands to greet Clint and Steve by the shed where they were doing some last minute fixing up before the real estate agents would come to check the property. Cappuccino and Sugar got loads of scratches before you moved on to a track in the woods, Lila going ahead to make sure the trail was safe. You did a rather long trek in the woods, occasionally even hopping over fallen trees which ended up being incredibly fun. The trail you were following ended at the edge of the woods on the other side of the farmhouse, a vast field spreading in front of you.

“Come on, let’s give them some exercise”, Lila exclaimed, kicking her shins against Sugar to gain some speed, the horse bolting into the yellow field. You giggled quietly before doing the same, your body jolting slightly as the horse leapt forward. You went as fast as Cappuccino would go, a huge grin permanently fixed on your face as you tried to catch up with Lila. It was the perfect goodbye.

Chapter 39: Little white lie

Chapter Text

“You’ll just have to get used to it”, Makena groaned as you leaned against the wall of the school, crossing your arms over your chest rather dramatically.

“But I’m your best friend”, you countered, staring at her angrily.

“Yeah, and he’s my boyfriend. I want to spend time with him!” She exclaimed, clearly fed up with your behavior.

“What about me?”

“What about you?” She grumbled.

“I was your friend first!” You nearly whimpered. “I’m your best friend. What about me?”

“Y/N, I spent one recess with him alone! It’s not a big deal”, she shrieked, desperate to drop the conversation. “You can be with Trina and Lottie”, she reasoned.

“But I want you”, you huffed. It wasn’t just one recess, it had been all the recesses from the past week, and you were finally at your limit. You missed her, you missed your best friend because no one else at school was able to make you feel as comfortable as she did. You had every reason to give her some feedback on her behavior.

“Ugh, you’re being so weird. You just don’t get it cause you don’t have a crush”, Makena groaned, letting out a heavy sigh. “My mama’s here. I’ll see you tomorrow”, she said quietly, not seeming one bit like she wanted to see you any time soon. You just sneered after her, refraining from poking your tongue out to express your annoyance, figuring it was too childish. You were hurt, upset that a boy had come between you and your best friend, upset that someone else had been placed above you in Makena’s circle of friends. It wasn’t fair. You had always been her number one, and all of a sudden, you didn’t matter as much.

Her words stuck with you because she was right. You didn’t understand. You never even thought about love and romance, you had never felt the need for it, but for some reason Makena was five steps ahead of you in everything. She had her first crush, first kiss, first relationship at twelve while all you had was friends and Barbie dolls. You felt like she was racing past you, growing up way faster than you were. She no longer wanted to bring dolls to school, or dress up as princesses, although she had yet to let go of her obsession with the color pink. But you noticed all those changes better than anyone else did because your interests were starting to clash. Instead of bringing sticker books and toys to school, she had started to bring a tube of lipgloss and sticks of bubblegum. She had started to dress differently, wearing tight jeans and crop tops that she changed into in the school bathroom because she knew her mother would never let her out of the house like that. She was growing braver, more assertive, the timid little girl you were so used to disappearing right in front of your eyes as you remained a little girl yourself.

You were jealous of her because everybody seemed to think she was so cool, everyone wanted to be her friend, and even though the feeling might not have been mutual on Makena’s part, you were still upset by all the attention she got. You wished you would have been cooler, had more people admiring you, but all of that felt insignificant when you realized that your fear of losing her from the very first days of middle school was slowly coming true. Sure, she was still your friend, but it was only a matter of time when you would be too uncool to stand beside her. Natasha watched you stomp to the passenger side of the car, your hand yanking the door open as if you were angered by the car itself. She frowned at the pout on your face as you slumped down onto the seat, kicking your backpack into the space under the glovebox.

“Good afternoon”, Natasha greeted in mild confusion, looking at you for an explanation.

“Go”, you huffed, yanking your seatbelt on as Natasha started the car. You stared out the window with your arms crossed over your chest, lips in a tight line, your demeanor screaming anger as you sat in silence. Natasha could tell that you had intended to sulk the whole ride home, but you couldn’t resist her presence, immediately tempted to let that anger out. “Makena’s stupid”, you grumbled, Natasha doing a double take at your words.

“Stupid? What makes her stupid?” She frowned, observing the traffic.

“She has a stupid, stinky boyfriend”, you growled, staring daggers at the passenger side window.

“How did that happen?”

“Her and that big-eared Darren kissed during recess”, you told her, your anger and frustration almost comical, but Natasha would never show that to you because she had immense respect over your feelings.

“Why does it make you so upset?” Natasha asked, even if she already had a pretty good idea why.

“Cause she’s my best friend. I don’t want him to come ruin it all”, you reasoned, your anger starting to evaporate from your tone, making you sound rather sad than angry. “She’s not supposed to hang out with boys. She’s supposed to hang out with me”, you whined, holding tightly onto your tears. You didn’t even like it when Makena hung out with your mutual friends Trinity and Charlotte, but you didn’t want to admit that to your mother because it sounded so ridiculous.

“Honey, do you think you like Makena?” Natasha asked in all seriousness, immediately earning a scoff from you.

“Well obviously”, you groaned, like she didn’t understand you at all.

“No, I mean a little more than just friends”, she elaborated, glancing to her right to see your face.

“No”, you muttered, going quiet right after, the rest of the way home spent in a theatrical sulk as you went over the events of the day in your head. You couldn’t believe they had finally kissed after all those stupid recess dates that you had witnessed from afar. It was just so dumb. Why was he so special for kissing Makena? You had kissed her too, yet she had never gushed about how cute and funny you were.

Your bad mood seemed to extend all the way home and right into the dinner table. You were clearly very upset with the news of Makena and Darren, yet Natasha felt like it wasn’t all there was to it. You were far too grumpy, far too sensitive, but she didn’t dare to pry when every look you shot her way was filled with so much anger that Natasha would’ve almost described it as murderous. She knew it wasn’t her doing, so she let you be, allowing you to experience and process whatever you were feeling at your own pace without irritating you any further, despite the curiosity she felt for your behavior.

“Mom! I don’t want carrots!” You fumed, resting your chin in your palm as you pushed the orange vegetables around on your plate. You had just recently entered a phase where you didn’t like vegetables for no proper reason at all which Natasha found odd since you had always tolerated them.

“I don’t care, you need your veggies”, she replied, setting the pan into the sink and walking back to the dinner table. You huffed angrily, stabbing the carrots with your fork. “Manners”, Natasha reminded you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in annoyance. “Don’t think I didn’t see that”, she warned, pointing a finger at you, a sigh of defeat sounding from you as you slowly brought the steamed carrot piece to your lips. You ate your food, continuing to stare daggers at your mother. “How was school today? Other than what you told me.” She asked nonchalantly as she ate her dinner, watching you sulk at the other end of the table. It must’ve been your preteen hormones acting up.

“Fine”, you mumbled, staring down at your plate.

“Veggies got you this upset?” She asked in suspicion, cutting into her steak.

“I don’t like the texture”, you explained halfheartedly.

“Baby, I wasn’t born yesterday. What’s going on?” Natasha asked softly, reaching her hand across the table for your own. You looked at her smooth skin and round nails, her blue veins slightly visible as her hand grabbed yours. She gave you a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t wanna talk about it”, you said hastily, focusing back on your food, but you didn’t really have an appetite for steak and potatoes, even less so when you could feel your stomach churn at the sight of them. Natasha pulled her hand back from you, hiding her disappointment.

“Maybe after dinner then”, she said with a gentle frown, still carefully observing you to maybe get an inkling of what was going on. You had been grumpy on an off for the past week and seemed overall much more sensitive than before, often withdrawing yourself from Natasha’s company. She struggled to find a way to accept it, trying her best to communicate to you that she was there for you in a way that wasn’t too suffocating for you. She feared that you were going to stop sharing your life with her the more you had started to shut her out, but she felt like there wasn’t much she could do about it. She was already doing her best. However, to Natasha’s surprise, after a few minutes of silence you finally caved because you knew you could trust her no matter how embarrassing the issue.

“Mom”, you whispered, your fork twisting the nearly untouched food.

“Yes, darling?”

“I think I got my period”, you mumbled so quietly that it was hard to hear, keeping your eyes down because you felt ashamed for the changes that occurred in your body, feeling out of your element. Understanding crossed Natasha’s features, a small pout finding her face as she suddenly got emotional from how quickly you were growing up, finding herself to be relieved that there was an explanation for your constant grumpiness.

“You think?”

“Yeah”, you sighed heavily. “There’s blood in my pants”, you muttered angrily, frustrated by such an offense as puberty. You knew what menstruation was, or at least you had heard of it before even if you didn’t know all the details, but you knew enough not to be freaked out by the sudden splotch of blood in your underwear.

“That’s alright, malyshka (baby). It’s perfectly normal. I’ll show and explain everything you need to know after dinner, okay?” She asked with a soft smile, earning a small nod from you as you glanced her way. “How do you feel about it?” She asked casually, hoping to bring a sense of normalcy around the topic. “Do you have any cramps or pain?”

“No, not really, but I don’t have an appetite”, you mumbled. “At least not for this”, you huffed, lifting the steak off the plate and dangling it from your fork. Natasha smiled softly at your tone.

“We can get you something else if you’d like”, she offered kindly, rather making something else for you than watching you go hungry.

“No, it’s okay. I feel a bit nauseous”, you countered, trying to nibble on a roasted potato.

“Do you have any questions I could answer?” She asked hopefully, truly wanting to give you nothing but support.

“Do I have to put something inside me, like tampons and stuff? ‘Cause I don’t think there’s anywhere to put them”, you pondered, seeming a bit embarrassed, but you were understandably nervous and mildly uncomfortable.

“No, sweetheart, you can use pads and period underwear. It’ll be okay. Nothing goes up your vagin* unless you want it”, she reminded you gently, grabbing her glass to take a sip of water. You had heard from your friends who had gotten their period before you how they would use sanitary pads or tampons, but you had seen all too many cases of bloody pants to trust those products. Natasha saw the hesitant look on your face, frowning in empathy.

“I know it sucks right now and it can be a lot to take in but… there are some perks to it”, she said with a mysterious smirk.

“Like what?” You asked her, brightening up a little, curious to know what she was talking about.

“You have the most perfect excuse to cuddle into your pillows and eat all the snacks you could ever want”, she hummed with a little smile. “You can just lay on the couch and watch movies until you feel better”, she chuckled, amused by the sudden enthusiasm on your face. “Something that Wanda likes to do is to complain about her period when around Steve. Oh, Steve, he’s such a gentleman”, she groaned with a fond smile. “If you mention you’re on your period he’ll bring you chocolate or other snacks you like”, she explained, watching how your smile grew. “Wanda always does it. Ever since she figured it out”, she recalled. “You should try it.” Suddenly you felt a little excited, and also very amused by Wanda’s behavior. Natasha was always so good at finding the silver linings.

“Why don’t you do it?” You asked with a small frown, knowing that it was definitely something your mother could have easily gotten behind. Natasha rubbed her lips together, contemplating what she should answer. She did do it. She was the one who had made it into a habit because Wanda had been a bit too kind to take advantage of Steve’s gentlemanly behavior like that, but Natasha’s attempt at leaving herself out of the story hadn’t worked as well as she would have wished it to. She had hoped you wouldn’t want to know a single thing about your mother’s reproductive organs.

“Well”, she sighed heavily, deciding that it was time to tell you the truth because her other option was to slip out a little more than just a white lie to you and that simply wouldn’t have been fair. “You know how most women have a period?” She questioned tentatively, receiving a nod of your head. “I don’t have mine”, she admitted. “Actually, I don’t have a uterus at all”, Natasha said quietly. You just stared at her from across the table, not having expected her to reveal something so vulnerable so suddenly.

“Why not?” You asked shyly, sensing the change in the atmosphere.

“Do you know what a hysterectomy is?” She asked, knowing you most likely didn’t, and just as she had suspected you shook your head. “It’s a procedure where a woman’s reproductive organs are removed.” You didn’t quite know how to react to that.

“Why would someone get that done?”
“There are several illnesses that might require a hysterectomy. Some might want it to avoid pregnancy and motherhood”, she explained evenly, doing her best not to get emotional over the trauma that she had had decades to deal with, yet it still hurt just the same.

“Were you sick?”

“No, sweetie, I wasn’t sick”, she replied, sniffling quietly, blinking her tears away. “It was done to me by force”, she admitted in shame even though she knew you would never judge her past, but her own humiliation was so ingrained in her that she had a hard time fighting against it.

“By who?”

“The Red Room. Remember the school I told you about?” You could never forget it because that was where you had come from, where Natasha had found you.

“They did that to you?” You asked in horror, not quite grasping everything that lay behind her statement, but you could tell very clearly that everything about it was more than serious.

“Yeah”, she nodded. “I used to have my period up until I was eighteen, so I know what it’s like, but it was all a long time ago”, she mused, offering you a small smile to lighten the mood. “And I do tell Steve I have cramps sometimes to get chocolate”, she added shamelessly. “He has no idea, not many do”, she admitted quietly, pursing her lips in an attempt to hide her sorrow. “I don’t talk much about the hysterectomy, but… you deserve to know the truth”, she reasoned, earning a small nod from you as you tried to process the information.

“Could we do it together?” You asked hopefully. “I want Skittles”, you smirked, making Natasha grin widely, her glossy eyes shining just a little brighter. She wiped them with her sleeves before her tears had a chance to fall.

“Absolutely”, she agreed, noticing your hand reach across the table in the same manner as hers had just a few moments ago. She grabbed your hand, a small pout appearing on her lips when you gave it a squeeze. “Clean up your plate as best as you can and I’ll show you how to use all the period products”, she said, scooping the final crumbs on her own plate onto her fork and sliding it into her mouth. You couldn’t lie, you were very curious to know, and so you ate a couple more bites of the roasted potato before putting your dishes away as fast as you could because you were sure the ball of toilet paper that you had bunched up between your legs to avoid making a mess wasn’t going to hold off blood for much longer. Natasha took you to the bathroom and sat you down on the closed toilet lid, crouching down in front of you to open the lower drawer that was within an arm’s reach from the toilet.

“All the period stuff is in here. Wanda’s pretty much the only one who uses them, but now you’ll get to use them as well”, she said with an encouraging smile. “For starters you’re gonna use pads.” She pulled out a few different sizes and explained what each of them was for. “Was there a lot of blood or a bit of blood?” She asked you, prompting you to form a circle with your fingers to show the size of the stain in your underwear that had been discarded into the laundry basket the second you had come home from school.

“I should use the smaller pads, right?” You asked, drawing your own conclusion, Natasha nodding.

“So, you open it here and peel this off the sticky part and then you place it inside your underwear, got it?” She explained to you, showing where you could peel it off. “Just sit on the toilet and pull your pants down. I’ll wait outside.” You nodded, holding the soft white pad in your hand, just staring at it for a second before you got to work, eager to get rid of your makeshift pad. It went surprisingly well, and you immediately noted how much better the real pad felt after the coarse toilet paper, but the pad was still uncomfortable and awkward compared to regular underwear. You heard a knock on the door.

“All good?”

“Yup”, you mumbled. “It’s a little uncomfortable”, you admitted to her as she came back into the bathroom.

“You’ll get used to it”, she promised. “I’ll show you how to use a tampon as well, just in case”, she added, her words followed by a very detailed demonstration of the process, Natasha using her fist to form the vagin*l canal. It was a little embarrassing in your opinion, but you would truly appreciate it later in life. “Finally, remember to clean yourself daily, especially on your period to make sure you stay healthy and avoid any infections or unpleasant smells”, she instructed, smirking at the small scrunch of your nose you did. You felt so awkward, but you let her continue, figuring she was providing you with crucial information. “If you get any weird symptoms at all you can ask me about them. You can ask me about anything, really”, she chuckled softly. “Even with regular symptoms. If there’s anything that you don’t understand, just ask, okay?” You nodded your head firmly. “Okay good. I think that was all. That wasn’t so embarrassing, was it?” She asked brightly, nudging you a bit.

“Maybe a little”, you chuckled playfully, Natasha ruffling your hair as she pulled you into a brief hug, her lips pressing a kiss into your hairline.

“Why do you have to grow up?” Natasha whined, squishing you against her as you smiled into her neck. “Why can’t you be my little baby forever?” She mumbled, feeling the tears from earlier start to itch in her waterlines. You pulled away from her wiping off the wet smooch from your forehead.

“Gross”, you whined, receiving a chastising look from Natasha. “How long do I have to bleed?” You inquired, wondering how long you would have to wear the diaper in your pants.

“We’ll have to see. It varies from person to person. Two to seven days is the average but some might bleed for a day and others might bleed for ten”, she explained, watching your eyes widen in shock.

“Ten days?” You whined, a miserable frown overtaking your features.

“Yes. I had mine for six days on average, but some months it was less and some months it was more”, she continued, your mouth parting in disbelief as if you had forgotten something.

“sh*t.”

“What, honey?” She questioned with a small frown on her face when she noted the glossiness of your eyes.

“Months. I have to deal with this every month”, you whispered in an appalled gasp, realization crossing Natasha’s features.

“Yes, malyshka (baby). That’s why it’s sometimes called a monthly. It’s a cycle that repeats until you get to something called menopause which usually occurs in your late forties and early fifties”, she elaborated, her frown only deepening when your lower lip started to tremble. You knew it came back, you knew, but every single month for forty years? Being reminded of all the days of bleeding you had ahead seemed to be enough to push you over the edge, tears spilling down your cheeks. First Makena, then the blood, and not just once, but for hundreds of days ahead.

“Are- are you- No…" You trailed off, sobs resounding in the bathroom as you tried to process the sudden emotions that you were experiencing. “I-I… forty years?” You hiccuped loudly, Natasha’s features softening as she pulled you closer to her.

“It’s alright, sweetie”, she hummed, biting back her smile at your intense reaction. “You’ll get used to it”, she assured you gently, bringing you into a hug.

“Noo, I don’t want to”, you cried desperately, unable to control the tears that you could have normally kept at bay. You wiped at your eyes in frustration, frowning angrily. You were being such a baby, but you felt so helpless suddenly, so exhausted, so angry and irritated, the weight of the day washing over you. “F- Screw that”, you grumbled, Natasha chuckling at your comment, finding it adorable that you were doing your best not to curse at her despite the fact that Natasha sometimes had a rather colorful vocabulary at home.

“I know”, she lamented quietly. “But it means you’re healthy, you’re okay”, she reminded you, glad to know that your puberty was advancing at a regular and healthy speed. You glared at her with your infuriated eyes, Natasha giving you an apologetic look in return. “It’s a beautiful thing. It makes us women special”, she added comfortingly.

“Special my ass. I wanna be unspecial”, you grouched, Natasha biting her tongue to keep herself from bursting into laughter, not wanting to invalidate your very real and valid reaction to change.

“Unfortunately, you can never be anything but extraordinary”, she hummed, tapping your nose with her index finger, offering you a fond smile. “You are the most special little thing on earth”, she hummed softly, cupping your cheeks.

“Mommm”, you whined in that specific tone you always used, pulling away from her. “I’m not a baby anymore”, you mumbled in annoyance, but Natasha knew not to take it to heart, very aware of how much you actually loved it.

“Come on, can mama get one more hug? Just one?” She tried hopefully, holding up her finger in emphasis. You couldn’t help but to smile as you nodded, Natasha pulling you into her arms, squeezing you as tightly as possible, your arms wrapping around her neck. You giggled at the raspberries she blew into your neck, hugging her even tighter.

“I love you, mom”, you whispered softly, pulling back to press a chaste kiss on her cheek, still feeling rather sensitive, your emotions seeming to be out of control because you suddenly felt unnecessarily bad for wiping her kiss away.

“I love you”, she mumbled in response, holding you close, her lips finding your hair. “Wanna watch a Big Girl movie and get some snacks?” She whispered in a low, secretive voice.

“Yes!”

“Just you and me?” She confirmed, assuming you wouldn’t want to hang out with anyone else who might have been home.

“Just you and me”, you echoed, allowing Natasha to pull you out of the spacious bathroom and into the living room where you slumped down on the couch to get comfortable while Natasha found whatever was eligible as a snack from the kitchen. She returned with a couple bars of chocolate and a bag of candied popcorn, finding the TV remote. She sat down beside you, her lips pursing slightly to hide her smile when you snuggled into her side as she turned the screen on. Every now and then Natasha would let you watch what you called Big Girl movies which were essentially just anything above the age restriction of 13 years old. They often ended up being your favorite movies because the added excitement of watching something you weren’t supposed to usually guaranteed you twice the fun that age-appropriate movies did.

“That one”, you said, opening up a candy bar for yourself, pointing at the screen with it where there was a pretty brunette woman with bangs.

“No, we’re not watching that”, Natasha said with a quiet chuckle.

“Why not?” You glanced up at her.

“Because it’s got sex, lots of sex”, she scoffed, her smile only growing when you let out a long, disgusted groan. “Exactly”, she said in agreement.

“Oh! Can we watch something that’s detective or spy stuff?” You asked in excitement, pulling slightly away from her to see her face. Natasha paused for a second, her smile softening at your joy-filled face. She felt it in her heart. She physically felt the love she had for you, her chest aching at the sight of your face that still remained slightly tear-stained.

“Absolutely”, she hummed, her arm tightening around your waist to make sure you wouldn’t disappear, that it wasn’t all just a dream. You ended up choosing a movie that Natasha had seen beforehand. That way she could assure that you wouldn’t see anything too disturbing by knowing when to cover your eyes. She was almost waiting for a scene like that just so she could hear you giggle and laugh as you tried to pry her hands off your face. But for now, Natasha simply held you, her hand rubbing your back softly, her cheek pressed against your head as you fidgeted with her fingers, a little too excited about the movie.

You felt a lot better, although you noted an uncomfortable feeling in your lower abdomen, like something was tugging on your insides. It wasn’t quite enough to be painful, but it was annoying. You could also feel the blood that pooled in your underwear, finding the warm and wet sensation mildly distracting, almost like you had peed your pants. It made you think back on the conversation from the dinner table. You couldn’t let go of what you had learnt, much less so since you had taken care of the risk of bleeding through your clothes. An involuntary hysterectomy. You couldn’t understand why anyone would do that to another, why it would be necessary if Natasha hadn’t been sick and she wanted to be a mother. You looked at the screen where a man was being interrogated, a knife at his throat as he sat tied to a chair. He winced when the other man nicked his neck with the blade, a soft frown falling onto your features. Maybe it had been done to hurt her. You didn’t really know what had happened during her time in the Red Room because she always somehow managed to change the subject, only responding with vague answers that were clearly meant for a much younger version of you. “It was a bad place. There were scary monsters”, she used to say, and she seemed to have stuck with that which occasionally frustrated you because you weren’t a child anymore, and you were most definitely old enough to hear about said monsters.

“Mom”, you whispered quietly, nervous to state your question.

“What, honey?”

“Why did they do it to you?” You asked rather vaguely, but Natasha knew immediately what you were referring to. She took a deep breath, her eyes remaining on the screen as if she had been reluctant to talk to you, something you were not used to. She stayed silent for a while before pointing the remote at the screen, pausing the movie. She turned to you, her hand brushing down your arm in a gentle caress.

“Because they didn’t want me to be a mom”, she hummed in a tone that could have easily been confused as a loving croon. It was light and soothing, as if she had been telling you good night. She cupped your cheek, wiping her thumb over the smooth skin, avoiding the couple bumps that had yet to develop into acne.

“Why not?” You persisted, feeling slightly put-off by her calmness because it contrasted so heavily with the topic of conversation.

“They didn’t want me to have anything that could have been more important than a mission”, she explained, playing with your hair to soothe herself in a more discreet manner. “They were scared that if I had someone like you, I wouldn’t be as efficient of a spy. They wanted there to be nothing that could make me walk away from a mission. Nothing”, she emphasized, feeling more than uncomfortable, struggling to keep her eyes fixed on one spot as they threatened to pool with tears. “And they were right”, she mused bitterly. “I would’ve given it all up for you, for any child that was mine”, she whispered, once more mourning the lost possibility of her biological children, feeling shame wash over her for her infertility. She resented herself for feeling the way she did, for feeling like she lacked value, like she was less of a woman because of it.

“Could it be undone?” You asked hopefully, trying to find a solution to the very obvious pain she was in, despite her skillful attempts at hiding it. You were too familiar with her for her methods to work on you.

“No, baby, it can’t be undone”, she breathed out, her eyes remaining fixed on the coffee table as her thumb brushed over the back of your hand that she was holding. “If it could, you would probably have a little sibling by now”, she hummed, a bittersweet smile finding her lips for a mere second. It had never been her dream to bring a child into such a horrible world, especially not during her adolescence in the Red Room, but as she grew older, found more people, found herself, she had become intrigued by the idea, by the sickeningly mundane life that everyone else in the world got to live. She had often entertained the idea in her head, but she never put any serious thought behind it because she knew for it to be impossible, but it had all changed when you had stumbled into her life. During your toddler years she had yearned for pregnancy because she had felt like she had missed a very crucial step of motherhood. She had often daydreamed of pregnancy in an attempt to alleviate the ache of it all because she had wished so badly that you would have been hers in a concrete, biological way to somehow drive away her insecurities of being an adoptive mother. She had been afraid that you could never truly be hers without pregnancy and DNA to prove it, but once she realized her faulty way of thinking she was able to let go of her obsession with pregnancy, finding a way to accept her fate.

“It’s okay. At least I don’t have to fight for your attention”, you huffed softly, leaning into her embrace in the hopes of providing her comfort. Natasha chuckled softly, nodding in agreement.

“No, you don’t”, she mumbled in amusem*nt, hugging you tightly. Despite the shared silence that followed, Natasha could practically hear the gears turn in your head as you formed your next question.

“I know they were bad people, but they wouldn’t do stuff to babies, right?” You asked tentatively, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, suddenly very aware that you didn’t know a single thing about your time in the Red Room. “Like surgery or something.”

“No, my sweet baby, you were far too young for that”, Natasha assured you immediately, rubbing your back a bit to try to alleviate your worries.

“There was nothing wrong with you when I found you, absolutely nothing. You were as healthy as ever, and every bit as lovely as you are now”, she hummed, kissing the top of your head, choosing not to tell you about the challenges you had had as a baby, figuring it was all too daunting of a burden to carry especially when there was nothing that could have been done about it.

“Are you sure? They didn’t do anything?” You asked hesitantly, unnerved by the thought of having lived your first months with the very monsters that had hurt your mother.

“I’m sure, dushenka (sweetheart)”, she promised you, petting your hair as she pressed a few more kisses onto your forehead.

“And what about you? They didn’t hurt you more, did they?” You asked in mild panic, pulling back to see her face. The look in your eyes made Natasha’s heart ache. You were in distress from the thought alone, failing to hide the tears in your eyes.

“No, my love. They didn’t hurt me more”, she nearly croaked, struggling to voice out such a lie, but you believed it nonetheless, a small smile curving the corner of your mouth up.

“Good. I’m really glad you got us out of there”, you mumbled, wiping your eyes dry as you leaned back against her, satisfied by the answer you had received, Natasha sighing in relief when you grabbed the bag of candied popcorn, taking it as a cue for the conversation to be over.

“Me too”, she hummed, pressing play to continue your small movie night, her heart beating out of rhythm, eyes burning with tears. She knew she should have told you the truth, she knew you deserved to know more about your past, but how could she look at you right in your innocent face and tell you that you came from a place of war and ache, a place that had stolen her childhood, her autonomy, her life? How could she sit there and tell you that you had been destined to become just like her, to be as cruel, and vicious, and disgusting as her? She couldn’t do that to you. She would never do that to you.

Chapter 40: Dark as night

Chapter Text

A strong gust of wind blew inside your room, your curtains billowing like huge waves for a split second as your room was filled with cold air. You shivered lightly, glancing outside into the darkening woods, noting how much the trees had lost of their green foliage, the leaves slowly turning a warm brown day by day. You took a sip of your steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream on top, something that Natasha had made for you in an attempt to make your homework a little more interesting, before you stood up from your desk and walked to the window with the intention of closing it. You grabbed the handle, pulling on it enough to get the window moving, sudden rustling sounding from outside. There was movement, something bolting into the room. All you managed to register was that it was an animal, fear stealing your breath from your lungs, your scream dying in your throat. You spun around immediately to see what kind of damage the panicked animal would do to your room, your eyes landing on a black cat that was far too slim and far too calm in your opinion. You were just about to start chasing it to get it out of your room, but its tranquility prompted you to take a moment to contemplate your options. You both stood at the opposite ends of your room, your vigil eyes never leaving the cat’s scrawny frame as time stood still. You weren’t sure what to do. Should you usher it out or keep it in case someone was looking for it? Maybe it was someone’s beloved kitty, although its appearance was a far cry from beloved. It had mats in its hair, dirt on its tail, a piece of its ear missing. If you squinted hard enough you were pretty sure it had scarring on its face. It looked miserable.

You knelt down onto the floor, offering your hand to the cat, despite being multiple feet away from it, but you wanted to show it a sign of peace and attempt to communicate that you weren’t a threat. The cat looked at you with its pale yellow eyes, sniffing the air in your direction, its neck elongating to get a whiff of your hand, but its attention soon shifted from you to your desk, its nose guiding it to something much sweeter than you. It jumped up onto the tabletop with one suave hop, finding your hot chocolate with little to no searching. You were about to protest, upset to see your delicious drink go to waste before you realized that the cat was probably hungry, at least if its looks were anything to go by. You observed the black fur ball as it started to lap up the cream from your hot chocolate, taking huge bites of melted whipped cream from the top. The cat even got a couple marshmallows that it chewed on for a moment before deeming them too chewy, the small pieces of candy plopping down on the sheet of homework that was on your table. You looked at the cat in awe, slowly creeping closer to it, offering your hand to it once again. You were briefly reminded of things like tics, fleas, and rabies, but the cat looked so sad, so small and adorable. You offered your finger to it, placing it on the edge of the large mug, fully expecting the cat to bite you or scratch you, but you kept your finger there despite your hacking heart. The cat lifted its head at the disturbance, looking at you once again with its huge eyes, taking a brief sniff of your finger before going back to the whipped cream.

“Hi”, you whispered, moving slowly to sit on the desk chair you had occupied earlier. The cat didn’t seem to mind. You took a better look at its body, noting the bumps of its spine poke through its thinning fur. God, you were hoping it didn’t have fleas. “Can I scratch you, little one?” You asked softly, moving your hand closer. “Don’t bite me, please”, you nearly whimpered as you brought your fingers to the side of its head, petting the tuft of fur there. It didn’t react, so you moved your hand to the top of its head, scratching it between its ears. You got a better visual of the injured ear, noting that the piece that was missing had been ripped off a long time ago, the edge of the wound healed into thick scarring. You felt bad for the cat. It even smelled a little bit like garbage, or maybe even a lot of bit. It could have definitely used a bath which sounded like an awful idea, but you had a feeling that it was either going to be that or you would need to chuck it back outside.

Deep in thought, you let the cat consume all the cream on top of your hot chocolate as you pondered what you should do about it. You could just usher it out of your room the same way it had come in but you felt far too much sympathy to do so, especially when the cat didn’t seem to want back into the cold fall night. You forgot about your homework, you forgot everything as you stared at the cat, trying to decide what to do. You wanted a cat, Natasha wanted a cat, there was a cat now on your table, but for some reason you felt like your mother wouldn’t appreciate just how dirty and scrawny it was. It licked its snout, cleaning up its cream mustache, its eyes shifting to you as if you had consumed all the food and were the culprit behind the finished drink, or rather toppings of the drink.

“What?” You asked in confusion, the cat staring at you intensely. It let out a demanding meow, the sound loud and sharp. You flinched back a bit, glancing warily at your door, afraid that your mother was going to hear it. The cat meowed again, walking closer to you, its little paws on the very edge of the desk as it leaned closer to you. “You want more?” You asked in confusion, glancing at the door again. Another meow and a fourth. “Maybe I can get more”, you whispered, warily backing away from your seat and the cat, hoping to avoid getting scratched by it. “Just wait here”, you instructed, creeping to your door, making sure the cat stayed put. You rushed into the kitchen, glancing at Natasha who was curled up on the couch with her own hot chocolate, her eyes fixed on the TV screen up until you opened the fridge door. She watched you pull out the can of whipped cream, the corners of her mouth tugging up.

“Ran out of whipped cream?” She asked knowingly, a hasty smile finding your lips.

“Yeah”, you chuckled. “It’s the best part”, you reasoned, Natasha nodding along.

“Give me a swirl too”, she hummed, focusing back on the episode of an old drama series. You slammed the fridge door shut, walking over to Natasha to squeeze whipped cream on top of her drink. You turned around, about to leave when she tutted you gently. “Not so fast”, she chastised, a shiver going down your back. What if she had heard the cat? You turned slowly back around to see her, those intense eyes making you feel like she saw right through you, like she knew more than you did about the cat that sat in your room. “You call that a swirl?” She asked in all seriousness, your eyes landing on the small squirt that floated around in her mug.

“Well…” you started but Natasha just chuckled, stealing the can from your hands to place a huge mound of whipped cream on her drink. You smirked at her behavior as she handed the cream back.

“Thank you, hun”, she mumbled into the whipped cream, her tongue licking up some of it from the side.

You hurried back into your room, realizing you probably should’ve grabbed a plate or a bowl, and that was followed by the realization that the impossibly sweet cream was probably not the best option, but it was all you had at the house, the last of the milk carton having gone into the hot chocolates. You put some more cream on the drink, watching it melt at the edges as the cat gobbled it down in huge bites of pure cream. It made you chuckle, your hand going for the cat’s back and tail to get it accustomed to your touch. It didn’t seem hostile at all, and maybe even a bit grateful for the food and warmth you had offered it. You kept scratching it as it ate, noting that it didn’t have a collar on, nor any other visible means of identifying it. You looked at your grimy hand as you pulled it off the cat, something greasy and gross sticking to the tips of your fingers. You would have to bathe it if you were going to keep it for the night or it would bring who knew what kind of dirt into your room and bed. You just didn’t know how to do it without attracting Natasha’s attention and possibly getting cut up in the process.

“Be a nice kitty, okay?” You whispered nervously, moving closer to it, your hand sliding beneath its chest with the intention of lifting it. The cat let out an angry hiss, reaching back for the cream when you attempted to lift it up. “Okay, okay, shh. Mom can’t hear you or I’ll have to kick you out”, you explained, petting its back soothingly, but it just kept licking the cream. “Hmm, maybe I need to get something even yummier to get you moving”, you hummed to yourself, grabbing the mug. “Or will this do?” You moved the mug out of the cat’s reach trying to make it follow the food. You noticed its eyes become more vigil as it observed your every move, intent on getting to finish its meal. You walked backwards to the door, thrilled to see the cat follow you, albeit a bit cautiously, clearly wary of the fact that its food was going away. “Come here, kitty”, you whispered, trying to gently shake the mug to encourage the cat a little more.

You inched your bedroom door open, glancing into the hallway to make sure Natasha wasn’t there. You could hear that the TV was still on, hoping that your mother wouldn’t hear a thing you were doing. You clicked your tongue very quietly, getting outside of your room, silently begging for the cat to follow you instead of walking away to explore the rest of the apartment. You saw the way it looked toward the kitchen and living room as if contemplating whether to follow you or go on its own path. You shook the mug again, hoping that maybe, just maybe the cream was yummy enough. The cat looked at you for a moment, taking a tentative step forward. You cheered it on mentally, slowly crawling backward into the large bathroom of the apartment.

“Mom, don’t come into the bathroom, I’m taking a bath!” You announced, unsure whether it was more weird for you to announce it to her or not, but you didn’t have the time to think about it because the cat was about to walk away.

“Got it!” She responded from the living room, a small sigh escaping you as you nearly kicked the cat inside the bathroom and shut the door. Next you would have to get some water and a cat into that water. Oh, good god.

Once the tub was filled with a couple inches of water and some body wash that was thankfully only mildly scented, you went and took your pants off to be able to crouch in the water, the mug of hot chocolate still in your hands. The cat looked disappointed that you were out of reach, hopping up onto the edge of the porcelain tub. It looked down at the water, walking along the edge to somehow get to you without having to touch the water, but it failed to find a way.

“Come on, kitty. It’s just water”, you tried, offering the mug a bit closer to trick it into wetting its paws, at the very least. The cat looked more than apprehensive of your plan, letting out a displeased meow. “I need to wash you, dummy. You stink really bad”, you reasoned, offering the mug again, but the cream was clearly not worth getting wet for. You sighed out in defeat, getting out of the bath. You needed something better, something the cat wouldn’t be able to refuse. Maybe you had fish or ham in the fridge. “I’ll be right back.” You left the cat in the bathroom, hurrying into the kitchen and going to the fridge again.

“I thought you were taking a bath”, Natasha frowned, glancing your way absentmindedly.

“I am. I just need stuff… I wanna try this face mask I saw online”, you explained, hastily coming up with a response that ended up being eligible enough. Natasha mumbled some kind of response but you didn’t hear it because your eyes had landed on a jackpot. You pulled out an opened-up package of lean turkey from the shelf, grabbing a couple of slices, giddy out of your mind when you returned into the bathroom. That treat ought to do the trick.

“Look what I got you, kitty-cat”, you cooed, going back into the water, offering the cat a small piece of your treat. It moved so fast you couldn’t even process it, biting your fingers as it chomped down on the piece of meat, you jumped back, the water sloshing as you nearly fell on your back in the tub, hissing quietly at the sting left behind from the cat’s bite. “sh*t. You better not have rabies”, you grumbled, looking down at your barely bleeding thumb. The cat only tried to get more of your turkey slice as if it hadn’t just almost bitten your finger off. You scowled at its oblivion to your pain, but you tried again nonetheless.

It took you ages, your sanity wearing thinner than your patience. The cat simply refused to touch its pretty, little paws in the perfectly warm water that had slowly turned lukewarm as the minutes went by. You were more than frustrated with the cat, grabbing it by force and placing it in the tub as it kicked and squirmed, hissing loudly. You dunked it in the water, placing some turkey in its face to redeem yourself, using your calves to squeeze the cat to keep it put while your free hand scrubbed it hastily. The cat didn’t like it, but the turkey seemed to be enough to alleviate the discomfort of the water. You placed the rest of the thin cutlet slices on the edge of the tub, their damp surface sticking to the porcelain, offering the cat a small challenge as it tried to lick and bite at the meat. The cat dyed the water a dirty gray, your hands scrubbing and scrubbing its bony body to get rid of the grime as quickly as possible. You even added some body wash right on its fur to clean it better. It took some additional efforts to get the greasy substance out of its fur but eventually you could feel the texture of the cat’s coat become coarse to the touch in the same way human hair did when washed with shampoo. When the cat was clean enough you unplugged the drain and hissed out a curse as the cat scrambled out of the bath and onto the white bath mat, dripping dirty soap suds everywhere. You were losing it. If the cat didn’t listen to your words right that second, you were going to lose it. You would toss it right out your window with zero hesitance. But another turkey run later, your patience and kindness were restored and you managed to rinse the cat with the shower head to finish off bath-time. However it did not go by without any difficulties. The cat absolutely despised the shower, flailing desperately around, biting your hands every chance it got, and right when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the cat took its claws out, sinking its nails into the soft, very delicate skin of your wrists and forearms. Oh, sh*t.

You let go of the cat, watching it bounce out of the tub as the porcelain beneath you got stained by your blood that was diluted by the water, turning it a bright red. You stared down at your clawed-up arms, looking back at the cat in utter horror, completely speechless. The wounds weren’t deep, but definitely deep enough to leave marks behind, which was only going to make the process of hiding the cat all the more challenging. You were exhausted, yet you cleaned up after yourself, washing the tub, pouring the leftover hot chocolate down the drain, all the while the cat tried to lick itself dry. You checked that everything was where it was supposed to be before leaving, glad to notice your cuts were no longer bleeding, their appearance having improved immediately once the blood was out of the way. Finally, you wrapped the cat up in a thick towel and took it right back into your own room. You lay in your bed with the cat for a long while as you tried to recharge yourself a bit to hopefully be able to complete your math homework before bedtime, but you could barely lift a finger. You were far too tired. What eventually did get you moving though was the loud rumble of your stomach that demanded you to find food for yourself. You really wanted a bowl of cereal, a huge bowl of crunchy cereal with fresh, cold milk.

You made sure the cat couldn’t escape anywhere before heading into the kitchen to go find your desired snack, Natasha already at the fridge, eyeing the contents as if she hadn’t been the one to buy every single item inside. She lingered by the door, clearly trying to decide what she was craving. So far she was looking rather normal, alleviating your fear of being caught. She would’ve already asked you about it had she heard any suspicious noises from your bath time.

“Mom, do we have any tuna?” You asked casually, trying to go over different things you could feed the cat.

“Tuna? What for? Don’t you hate tuna?” She frowned, giving you a confused look. Oh, right, you did hate tuna.

“I do, but I need it”, you countered, cursing yourself for being so sloppy with your lies.

“Please don’t tell me it’s for a face mask”, she whined jokingly, earning a small chuckle from you.

“No, it’s for…” What was it for? What were you supposed to say? “A cat.” You just told the truth, oh no, no, no.

“A cat?”

“Yeah, there’s this cat that comes to the school gate every day”, you explained, surprising yourself with how naturally your lie flowed. “But I never have anything to give it because it doesn’t like fruit and veggies and bread, you know? So… I was wondering if I could bring it some tuna, or something”, you continued, Natasha giving you a small look as she pulled out Greek yogurt from the fridge, finding berries to go with it.

“I mean sure. I think we have a can of tuna somewhere in the cupboards, but please be careful with the cat. If it’s a stray it can have so many different diseases and viruses. I’ve told you about rabies, haven’t I?” She asked in all seriousness, making you hide your bitten thumb behind your back.

“Yeah, I know. We’re really careful”, you assured her, but her face told you that she had her suspicions. “Seriously, we haven’t even pet it or anything”, you added in an attempt to alleviate her worries. “It just looks so hungry every time it comes around, so I thought maybe we could help it”, you continued.

“That’s very sweet of you, malyshka (baby), but please be careful. There is no cure for rabies”, she reminded you.

“We’ll be careful”, you nodded, finding your desired box of cereal, your eyes fixed on the bite marks on your hand as you filled up your bowl. The rest of the night was spent Googling the symptoms of rabies in both cats and humans as you nursed your cuts and scrapes, praying that you weren’t infected with any dangerous diseases or viruses as the cat slept soundly on your pillow. Probably not the best place for it, especially if it had fleas or some other horrible creatures that the human eye couldn’t see. Yet despite all your worry and fear you fell asleep beside the fur ball, the night passing in the blink of an eye.

You got up before your mother like on most school mornings, finding the can of tuna from one of the kitchen cupboards, emptying it in a small bowl. You got a second bowl and filled it with water, bringing the dishes into your bedroom for the cat, placing them on the floor to a spot that was easily available to it, hoping that the tuna would be enough to stave off its hunger while you were away at school. You pondered briefly if you should tell Natasha to stay out of your room or not, unsure if it was too suspicious to request her not to enter, not that she even had a reason to come into your room that often unless it was for cleaning purposes. She had just cleaned a few days ago, so you decided not to say anything at all to her. You sat on your bed, waiting for the cat to notice the food you had brought, hoping that it was going to suffice. The cat didn’t seem too eager to clamber up from the softness of your pillows, laying there idly like it belonged there. The sight made you smirk; the audacity. You stared at it, wondering if you should give it a name, which led you to ponder the sex of the cat. It looked like a girl, but you couldn’t tell if it was just in your head because you wanted it to be a girl, and it was very small and scrawny which probably only added onto your judgment. But what if it had balls, and it was a boy? How were you even meant to check that? It would just have to be a girl.

You looked on as the cat finally noticed the smell of fish in the room, perking up at the scent that carried all the way to your bed. The cat stretched very thoroughly before strutting to the bowl of tuna, devouring it in mere seconds. You looked at it in mild surprise, slightly bummed out that you didn’t have more food for the cat. You crouched down to the floor from the bed to see between its legs. You didn’t know what you were supposed to make of it, you had absolutely no clue. You groaned quietly as you picked up your phone and Googled “cat genitalia”. You grimaced at yourself, but you wanted to know everything you could about your new pet. The pictures that popped up were rather clear, yet you couldn’t seem to decipher what was going on with your kitty. Maybe it was androgynous. Could a cat be intersex? You felt silly for your way of thinking, but eventually came to the conclusion that you had a female cat because you failed to find a pair of balls, to your utter relief.

“Myshka (little mouse), are you ready?” Natasha hollered from the front door, ready to drive you to school, her face groggy, hair a mess, her cardigan loosely thrown over her casual getup, a thermostat mug of tea in her hand. “Your ride is leaving!” You looked at the cat who lifted its head at the sound of another human, seeming slightly confused as you scratched it behind its neck.

“Don’t run away. I’m leaving the window open so you can pee and poo, but I swear if you run away after all this, I’m gonna find you and I’m gonna kick your tiny, little, androgynous ass”, you hissed, the cat staring at you blankly with its pale eyes. “Bye”, you whispered, giving it one more scratch before hurrying to get dressed into your coat and scarf, Natasha sipping on her tea as you yanked on your new combat boots that you had bought the day before. You saw the little, smug smirk on Natasha’s face as she glanced down at her own matching boots, so very pleased that you wanted to be cool like her, but her smile was wiped away when your sleeve hiked up your arm, revealing a thin cut on the inside of your wrist. Natasha’s blood ran cold, her mug nearly falling out of her hand at the sight, worry flooding her chest in an instant. Were her eyes deceiving her or did you really have a suspiciously clean cut on your wrist? She struggled to process the sight, unsure if she was just overreacting, making her ponder if it was appropriate to be straightforward and ask about it, or if it would have been better to choose a more subtle approach. How could she have missed something like that? Was it even what she thought it was?

“Mom, let’s go”, you said a bit impatiently, drawing Natasha out of her thoughts.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m coming”, she mumbled vaguely, following you out the door.

She couldn’t focus on the drive to school, her mind going a mile per minute as she tried to figure you out, thinking back to every single time you had been sad or angry in the last month, trying her best to find any clues of depression or resurfacing anxiety. She went over multiple conversations that you had had together, picking out moments where you had expressed any worries that you had in life, but none of the things she recalled were enough to be alarming. You seemed happy and healthy, but was it possible that Natasha was being shut out completely from your internal life? Could it be that you were hiding something so much more serious than teenage mood swings? Natasha felt like she should ask you about it, bring it up in a casual way to see how you would react to her inquiring, but just as she was about to open her mouth, she heard you say goodbye and slam the car door shut. Somehow Natasha had made it to school without even realizing. She felt anxious, sitting in the driver’s seat in complete silence as she looked after you, noticing Charlotte greet you by the gate before you both walked inside.

Natasha could not get past her worry, all the hours of work she did shadowed by her reeling mind. She wanted to ask, she wanted to ask so badly that she contemplated texting you, but she knew it wasn’t a conversation to be had over text messages so she refrained from acting upon impulse, unable to do anything but let the worry consume her for the duration of your school day. She was at the school gate thirty minutes before the school bell even rang, patiently waiting for you to emerge from the doors. Her heart jumped when she saw your cute coat and scarf that you had just recently picked out together for the cooling temperatures of November, her chest squeezing from anxiety as well as affection. She loved you so much and she desperately needed everything to be okay because she couldn’t take it if anything was hurting you. She smiled at you when you were close enough, your brows furrowing slightly at the fact that she wasn’t waiting in the car like normal.

“Hi”, you hummed, a little taken back when Natasha welcomed you into a hug.

“Hi, baby”, she mumbled into your hair, squeezing you tightly. She pulled back to cup your cheek, looking at you with that softened gaze of hers. “Everything okay?” She asked, trying to sound casual but you could tell it wasn’t exactly as casual as she had intended it to be, her eyes holding so much tenderness you thought somebody might have died.

“Yeah. Is everything okay with you?” You frowned, leaning more into her automatically, worried that something might have happened. She kissed your forehead, her perfume swallowing you whole, making you dizzy from how safe it made you feel.

“Yeah, I’m just checking in on you”, she murmured, squeezing you tightly, kissing your forehead repeatedly.

“You’re being weird”, you noted, backing away to get a better look at her.

“No, I’m not. I’m just… I love you”, she whispered, moving toward the car that was parked by the side of the road.

“Mom. Seriously, did something happen?” You asked, following in her footsteps, her hand still holding yours.

“No, malyshka (baby)”, she assured you, although rather poorly.

“Mom, come on. I can tell that something is wrong”, you whined, getting inside the car.

“I have something I need to ask you, and I need you to be honest”, she finally said, deciding not to wait until you were home.

“Okay, shoot”, you huffed, despite the way your cheeks heated and your stomach twisted with the fear of your mother finding out about your new pet. She sat down, shutting the door and turning to you. She grasped your hand, the one she knew to have a cut on your wrist, bringing it between you. She looked hesitant, her fingers brushing the edge of your sleeve. You felt uneasy, already more than aware of what she was after.

“You’re not hurting yourself, are you?” She asked warily, itching to pull up your sleeve to make sure there wasn’t more than the damage she had already seen.

“What?” You asked, clearly flabbergasted by such an accusation. “What? No.”

“Y/N, I’m serious, if there’s anything that you need to talk about, you can come to me”, she started, but you pulled your hand away from her.

“Oh my god, mom, no. It’s not that”, you whined awkwardly, you needed to come up with an excuse as quickly as possible.

“Honey-“

“No, I swear. I was shaving”, you admitted suddenly, mortified by your excuse but it was better than her thinking you were depressed and suicidal.

“What?”

“Yeah, I was shaving my arms cause this one girl in my class said I have hairy arms”, you said hastily, coming up with the lie as you went. “But then the shaver was so sharp. I didn’t realize, and I cut myself accidentally”, you explained, Natasha’s features relaxing in relief.

“Oh, thank god”, she sighed, tugging you into her arms, hugging you unnecessarily tightly. “I was so worried”, she whispered, squeezing you hard, holding you for a long moment, petting your hair as she allowed her anxiety and worry to seep out of her, the emotions easing their grip on her. “You don’t have hairy arms”, she assured you after getting over her initial relief.

“Thanks”, you chuckled, hugging her back because she seemed more than distraught by the thought of you being sad. “I’m okay, mom”, you said a little awkwardly, Natasha sighing into your neck, kissing you multiple times.

“I was so worried”, she repeated, chuckling softly, pulling back and letting go of you to offer you more space. “Please, promise me that if anything ever happens, if you’re sad or anxious, and feel like you can’t contain it, promise me you’ll come to me”, she said in all seriousness, looking you in the eyes.

“I promise. I don’t wanna hurt myself. I’d never”, you hummed softly, nodding firmly, Natasha smiling at you.

“Good. There’s safer ways to cope with your feelings”, she reminded you in a very motherly way.

“I know”, you hummed, amused by the entire situation. Little did your mother know that you were hiding a cat instead of an undiagnosed mental illness. You didn’t know which one was more believable. Personally, you couldn’t imagine ever succeeding at hiding something as severe as depression. Your mother would have been the first person you would have gone to.

“I love you, kroshka (little one)”, Natasha said quietly, her voice dripping with adoration, and you could see from her face that she was resisting the urge to pinch and squish your cheeks like she used to do when you were younger.

“I love you too”, you huffed, feeling warm throughout your whole body for the attention and affection you had received. She really cared. She had genuinely been worried for your safety and health, and even though you were mildly irritated by her persistence, her behavior only assured you further of what you already knew; you could always trust her.

“Tell that girl to f*ck off with her opinions”, Natasha muttered, turning on the engine, her hand gesturing for you to put your seatbelt on. You laughed at her comment.

“Will do”, you nodded, eyeing the surroundings as she slowly pulled out of her parking spot. You were quiet for a moment, pondering whether you should bring up your predicament or not. You thought over your words, figuring out a way to present your question in a vague way that wouldn’t make Natasha suspect a thing. “Mom, if you got a cat, what would you name it, and while we’re at it: when are we getting that cat?” You asked her, Natasha giving you a small look.

“Not right now, honey”, she replied to your utter disappointment.

“Why not?

“Because I don’t have the time to look after a kitten right now”, she reasoned.

“But you wouldn’t have to, remember? I would take care of everything”, you reminded her hopefully, but Natasha didn’t seem convinced, just as she hadn’t in the Summer. “I swear.”

“Not now. I need time to think about it. It’s a huge commitment”, she argued gently.

“But we could get an adult one. It’s a less of a commitment”, you tried desperately because you were not giving up your cat, not after it had bitten your finger off and clawed you up. You wanted your cat.

“It most definitely is not less of a commitment”, she huffed.

“Okay, well, whatever. What about the name?”

“What do you need a name for?”

“Mommm, just answer the question. It’s not that deep. We were trying to come up with names for the cat I told you about”, you explained in mild annoyance.

“I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought”, she mumbled, turning the steering wheel to the left, making a tight curve to get on the correct lane as she turned on a side road. “What did you guys come up with?”

“I don’t remember. Lame stuff like Whiskers, Button, and Kitty”, you replied, glancing down at your phone to check your notifications, knowing the ride home was going to take some time.

“You’re right. Those are lame”, she agreed solemnly, her brows furrowing the tiniest bit as she tried to come up with better options. “What does the cat look like?”

“Black and scrawny. It has yellowish eyes and like scars and stuff”, you told her, tempted to show her a picture you had taken the night before but she would immediately realize that it was from your room.

“Trina suggested Scar or Scarly, but wouldn’t it be a little weird? Imagine someone seeing a mole on your face and naming you Mole or Moley”, you chuckled, Natasha clearly amused as well.

“It is a little weird, but I think Scar is a bit more common than Mole”, she hummed, glancing at you with those playful eyes of hers.

“True, but I don’t like it. I want something cool, something that isn’t just about its looks. Lottie suggested Figaro, but I think it’s too fancy. The cat’s not behaved enough for that”, you mused. “I want something original.”

“Is it one of those evil cats, the kind that are the biggest assholes to walk the earth?” Natasha asked, grabbing the gear stick as the car in front of her slowed down too much in her opinion, prompting her to switch lanes and speed past it.

“A little, but I don’t think it means to be. It’s just scared”, you deduced, having a feeling that you couldn’t make any judgements yet because you’d spent less than a day with your cat.

“A misunderstood cat”, Natasha hummed evenly.

“Yeah. It’s been through a lot. You can tell. It’s even missing a piece of its ear.” Your voice turned a bit sad as you recalled the appearance of the cat. “And it’s dirty and smelly. Its life has probably been full of misfortune”, you deduced, shutting your phone after finding nothing interesting on it.

“Did I ever tell you about Liho (Likho)?” She asked rather casually, making you wonder what had prompted her to switch the topic like that.

“No.”

“It’s a creature in Slavic mythology. An embodiment of evil and misfortune. There’s an original name for your cat”, she said almost smugly, your brows knitting together as you allowed the suggestion to settle in.

“Liho”, you repeated in thought, bringing an image of the cat into your mind to see if the name fit. “I like it”, you hummed. “I’ll think about it.” You promised, intrigued to hear more about this Liho and what it did. “What does a Liho do?”

“There are several versions of it, but I only heard one in my childhood”, she began. “The tales often deal with themes of greed and cheating. I guess the most prominent feature of Liho is that it eats people”, she explained. So did your cat, what a coincidence. Your mouth curved into a small smile as you brushed your finger over the bite mark on your thumb. “I don’t remember the whole story, but there’s a blacksmith and a tailor and they both die. Liho eats the tailor and drowns the blacksmith. Scary stuff”, Natasha chuckled, reminded of how utterly terrified she had been as a four-year-old girl, cuffed to her bed at midnight with no escape from Liho who surprisingly never came.

“Huh, what does it look like?”

“It can be a man or a woman, and it usually has one eye. In my version of the story Liho is a bony, old woman”, she replied, tapping her fingers on the edge of the steering wheel, the other drivers testing her patience. Her words made you wonder how old your cat was. You had no clue if you could even tell it by looks, but you guessed it to be on the younger side because it didn’t have any gray hairs. You took a moment to digest all that your mother was telling you, deciding that the name fit your cat almost too perfectly, and you had a strong feeling that you weren’t going to be able to let go of the name, not after everything you had heard about the mythical creature. Figuring out an appropriate name for your cat only amplified the excitement you felt, ushering you out of the car as fast as possible once it was parked. Natasha seemed a bit confused by your eagerness to get home, but once she realized how much she was longing to sink into the living room couch she figured it was more than appropriate.

You hurried into your room, swinging your backpack off your shoulder, shutting the door behind you as your eyes searched for the cat in your room. You couldn’t see it anywhere, a shiver going down your spine from how cold it was in your room, the curtains flowing gently whenever the wind gusted inside. You felt a wave of sorrow wash over you when you started to look under your desk and bed in the hopes of finding a black fur ball from the corners of your room. You searched under the bed, behind your bookshelf, among your stuffed animals, inside your laundry basket and closet, but there was no sign of your furry friend. You glanced at the open window, your heart sinking as you walked closer to it to see outside. It had probably run away. You slumped down onto your covers, feeling tears itch your eyes. You were so disappointed, so unimaginably disappointed after all the excitement you had tried to contain all day long at school, only to find out that the very thing that had made you so happy was gone. You allowed your tears to fall, leaning down on the bed to cope with your strong feelings of sadness, your vision blurring completely as tears filled your eyes, rolling down your temples and into the sheets. You sniffled, wiping your face into your sleeves, staring at your ceiling when a tiny, black snout appeared above your head, right in your line of sight.

“You asshole”, you gasped, sitting up to see your very own, stupid cat sit on the bed with an expectant look on its face. You really wanted to be mad for the little trick it had pulled on you, but you were just so relieved to have been wrong that you continued to cry, that time from joy. “I’m gonna name you Liho”, you decided, petting the cat's bony head. You just couldn’t shake the name. It fit the cat all too well.

You and Liho became inseparable over the course of November and early December as a result of multiple days and nights spent together in the comfort and safety of your room. At first you fed Liho all kinds of meats that were edible for cats, searching online for information that helped you take care of your special needs pet. You fed it as much as possible, but it remained very skinny despite your efforts. You eventually managed to upgrade its food into real cat food after spending all your savings at the mall during a fun, little afternoon with your friends where you had been left unsupervised at a grocery store. You created a makeshift litter box for it which allowed you to keep your window shut for the winter. Liho seemed to agree with the arrangement, especially since it got loads of love and affection, as well as all the scratching it could possibly need. It slept on one of your pillows most nights, curled up beside you.

One downside to it all was that you were distancing yourself from your mother as a result of your lies and hiding. You could tell she was upset which in all honesty made your heart ache because you knew she was most likely wondering what she had done for you to shut her out, quite literally, at least when it came to your bedroom. You weren’t exactly mean to her, but your dishonesty made you sad nonetheless. Your mother deserved better, but you weren’t sure how to approach the situation. You would never give up Liho, not ever, no matter what your mother wanted or didn’t want, which was exactly why you were hesitant to tell her about your new friend. Her opinion on getting a cat hadn’t changed even though you asked about it every week. The answer was always “no, not yet”, no matter how many times you brought it up. It frustrated you more than anything, especially because you knew there was no real reason for why you couldn’t get a cat. Natasha just seemed to have a problem with it for the sake of having a problem.

You slipped out of your room wearing your pajamas, fluffy socks on your feet as you walked into the kitchen in search of food for Liho’s nighttime feeding. You had run out of cat food the day before and needed to come up with a viable option for the night before you would be able to get more cat food from the store. You headed straight for the fridge, hearing Natasha’s footsteps near you, a quiet cling letting you know that she had finished her mug of tea.

“Do we have anything to eat?” She asked in a small whine, waiting for your verdict as you scanned through the fridge.

“Uh, we have raw vegetables, leftover rice, and chicken cutlets which I call dibs for”, you announced, grabbing the pack of meat from the shelf, looking for something you could get yourself as well, but after not receiving a reaction from Natasha you pulled back enough to be able to see her from behind the fridge door, noticing that her gaze went right past you. Naturally, your eyes followed her line of sight, and there on the counter of the kitchen island sat your beloved cat, patiently waiting for you to give it food. Natasha stared at Liho with an expressionless face, unable to even blink as she took in the sight of a strange cat in her kitchen. You froze completely, holding the meat in your hands until Liho let out a small mewl as if asking what was going on.

“Liho!” You hissed warily, glancing at Natasha who seemed to be unable to process anything.

“Liho?” She frowned in surprise, overwhelmed by the manner in which every single clue and piece of evidence clicked into place, everything suddenly making more than sense. The cuts, the questions, the odd food choices, the closed bedroom door, the random black tufts of fur, the sudden sounds that made no sense, the weird smell in your room that she hadn’t been able to pinpoint until that very moment. She had allowed herself to ignore every warning sign in the hopes of confirming that her trust in you hadn’t been misplaced, only for her to find out that her instincts had been right all along. You had been keeping things from her. It all made sense now, and in hindsight Natasha felt like it had been more than obvious, yet she had failed to believe that you would ever hide something so big from her.

“Surprise”, you cheered a little awkwardly, doing jazz hands behind Liho to give a little comedic effect to your secret that was suddenly out in the open with no preparations on anyone’s part. God, you hoped you weren’t screwed.

“Liho”, Natasha stated evenly, as if hoping that saying the cat’s name would somehow help her process the news.

“Yes, I named her Liho. Isn’t she cute?” You asked hopefully, offering the cat some cutlet to ease its hunger at least a little bit, impatient as it was.

“You just… all this time you had a cat in there?”

She asked in disbelief, earning a hesitant smile from you.

“Yeah”, you admitted, grinning at her expectantly, wishing that she would express how adorable your companion was and accept the new family member, but she did no such thing. Natasha looked at Liho for a long moment, her eyes shifting to you. “You’re mad.”

“No, honey-“

“You don’t like her”, you accused bitterly, your voice wavering when you felt yourself grow more and more anxious, chest squeezing with panic. What if you would have to give Liho away?

“No, baby, I’m sure she’s a nice cat, I’m just disappointed that you didn’t tell me.” Natasha was more than just disappointed in you. She was hurt by your dishonesty, by your decision to lie to her time and time again instead of coming to her for support. She was upset that you hadn’t been able to trust her with your secret and instead had resorted to distancing yourself from her. “How long have you had her?” She asked in a much softer tone, unwilling to upset you any further as she walked closer to the cat, offering her hand to it. Liho sniffed her fingers, taking a step closer before attempting to sink its teeth into Natasha’s hand.

“Liho!” You chastised in disbelief, grabbing it by its waist to lift it onto your shoulder where it sat still, staring at Natasha like it didn’t quite understand what was so wrong about biting.

“I see the name fits”, Natasha muttered, looking at her hand to see that no marks were left behind.

“Sorry, she bites a lot”, you mumbled briefly. “I’ve had her since the beginning of November. Remember that one night when you made us hot chocolates after we came home from the mall?”

“Yeah, I do”, she hummed, still eyeing Liho who remained on your shoulder, twirling its tail as it observed Natasha.

“She ran into my room that night”, you told her, feeling yourself grow more uneasy by the second.

“You took in a stray”, Natasha stated in thought, mentally reevaluating everything that had been going on behind the scenes. “Malyshka (baby), I’m sorry, but this was more than irresponsible. Do you have any idea what kinds of trouble you could’ve gotten yourself into?” She asked in disbelief. “What about all the diseases and fleas it could’ve brought in? Y/N, you know better”, she reprimanded you rather harshly, her cold tone anything but accepting of Liho. “Or maybe that’s someone else’s cat who you stole by keeping it here”, she added.

“She’s mine”, you muttered angrily, feeding Liho more cutlet to distract yourself from the tears that pooled into your eyes.

“We have to take it to the vet”, Natasha reasoned. “Strays are a cesspool of diseases-“

“She’s mine!” You sobbed out all of a sudden, interrupting Natasha’s relentless scolding. Tears streamed down your face as you held your mother’s gaze. “I’m not giving her away”, you said definitively, walking out of the kitchen with Liho still balancing on your shoulders.

“Y/N, come back”, Natasha demanded, but you didn’t listen. Liho was not going to the vet. You would rather move out altogether if it meant that you could keep it. Natasha came after you despite the way you slammed your door shut, entering the room to see you feeding Liho out of the palm of your hand. You glared at her, letting her know that she was not welcome, but Natasha sat down beside you anyway, Liho giving her another sniff before focusing back on its food. “I’m not exactly saying we should give her away”, Natasha began, but you were unwilling to listen.

“Yeah, maybe not, but I know you won’t let me keep her if there’s anything wrong with her”, you pointed out, petting Liho softly, sniffling quietly as you tried to hold onto your tears. You knew you were right. You could tell it from the way Natasha stayed silent for a beat before responding.

“It’s still a good idea to take her to the vet to make sure that everything is okay with her”, Natasha argued. “You wouldn’t want your cat to be sick, would you?” She asked you, her tone leaning toward pleading in the hopes of persuading you to agree to her suggestion.

“No”, you mumbled sadly. “But she’s slept on my pillow for a month. She’s fine”, you grumbled, a shiver going down Natasha’s back at the thought. “She doesn’t have rabies, she doesn’t have fleas. She’s just fine”, you huffed angrily. “If she did have something I’d have it too by now.” That was exactly what made Natasha so worried, your words testing her patience once more.

“If I promise that we’ll keep her, will you take her to the vet with me?” Natasha suggested, choosing to be more lenient to avoid getting into a fight. She could see just how much the cat meant to you, and she could tell there was no going back, not without severely hurting your feelings, which was something she refused to do. You cried silently, Liho turning around in your arms, reaching its little snout in line with your nose to lick off a tear that hung from the tip of your nose. Its tongue was scratchy and smelled like lunch meat, but the gesture made you smile a sad smile. Liho continued to lick your face, making sure no tear got past it, Natasha endeared by the sight, her heart dropping at your pain, prompting her to lean closer, her hands wrapping around your shoulders in a loose hug. Liho seemed put off by the presence of another, lifting its furry paw up to Natasha’s bare bicep, brushing over it tentatively, only barely poking out its nails, not quite sure whether to dare to scratch Natasha or not. Liho brushed its paw over her arm again with a little bit more force the second time, Natasha pulling back, an appalled look on her face. Liho pushed a little harder, Natasha raising her brows incredulously. Liho kept pushing and scratching until Natasha was no longer touching you and its paw could not reach her.

“Some cat you got”, Natasha huffed, her tone carrying a hint of bitterness. “You are not stealing my baby”, she whispered in a small threat, Liho staring blankly back at her. You looked down at your cat, sniffling quietly, a small smirk finding your lips. The silence between you stretched as you pondered your choices, contemplating whether or not you dared to take the risk of finding out your pet might not have been as healthy as you had hoped. You knew that if you didn’t go to the vet you would eventually be plagued by the fear of having sickness steal your companion, but there was a chance you would lose her to its real owners or even the vet who had the power to put it down. No option was good, yet you had to decide. “I just want to make sure you’re both safe”, Natasha assured again, brushing her hand down your back where Liho couldn’t see. You knew your mother was right. You needed to take Liho to the vet to make sure everything was the way it was supposed to be.

“Okay”, you whispered timidly, glancing to the side to look at your mother, her frown softening at the sight of your teary eyes.

“I’ll call an appointment”, she hummed, giving your back one more rub before standing up to go into the living room where she had left her phone.

It needed to be done, and it ended up being much less scary than you had initially thought. Liho was generally healthy, although malnourished and weak, but it was nothing a good diet plan wasn’t going to fix. Natasha agreed to pay for every kind of test possible to ease her own anxiety about the new family member, which Liho surely didn’t appreciate. It was like it knew that Natasha was the reason it was getting poked in the eye and tugged and pinched by the vet. It stared at Natasha with an unsettling intensity as the vet performed a rectal examination, Liho squirming in your arms, sinking its nails into your body which made Natasha want to chuck the cat across the room, especially when she saw your face contort into a pained wince. You found out that Liho was not registered which meant that there were no known owners, to your utter relief. You also learned that Liho was around two and a half years old, and a mix of multiple different breeds of cat. Hours and hundreds of dollars later, once everything was in order and the cat had been deemed as healthy, you were able to start planning the adjustments you would have to start making in your daily life to accommodate Liho. Natasha didn’t seem too pleased by any of it, sulking in the pet store as you chose Liho a red collar and a bunch of toys, treats, and foods. You were over the moon, finally able to provide Liho everything it needed to live a happy life, absolutely everything. And although every time Liho entered the living room, or got inside Natasha’s bedroom to explore the apartment, she looked more than unimpressed, you could tell that your mother was starting to warm up, it just wasn’t very obvious from the outside, but you still had hope that one day she would welcome your new, furry family member with open arms.

Chapter 41: Motherhood

Chapter Text

“Tony”, you called as you entered his laboratory, not even managing to get a greeting from him as he continued to weld some pieces of vibranium together. You frowned at the lack of attention you received but you were more or less used to it. That’s how Tony was when he was elbows deep in his robots. “How much does the Earth cost?” You inquired, coming to a stop beside him, lingering there until he was ready to pay mind to you.

“A lot”, he huffed, his eyes still fixed on the welding machine in his hand that was soldering the two pieces together.

“How much?”

“Some quadrillion US dollars”, he muttered, placing some sort of tool between his teeth as he crouched closer to get a better angle of whatever he was working on.

“And how much money do you have?” You pestered him, Tony seeming to pause for the first time. He pulled the tool out of his mouth, turning to look at you.

“Did you come here to call me poor?” He asked in all seriousness, but his tone held that playful, sarcastic nuance to it.

“Well, can you buy the Earth for me?” You countered with a little smirk.

“No.”

“Speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” You retorted, Tony giving you a look. There was no doubt that you were Natasha’s daughter, just as annoying.

“What do you need the Earth for?” He continued, ignoring your mild insult. “Come here and hold this if you’re gonna bother me for longer”, he commanded, gesturing for you to come closer to him.

“Mother’s Day is coming”, you replied, carefully grasping the tool from his hand.

“Hold it there, be careful this is hot”, he reminded you, pointing at the tip of the machine in his hand. “So, you wanna buy her the entire Earth?” He asked conversationally.

“Yeah. It’s the biggest thing I can think of”, you muttered, watching him work as you held the tool in place, curious to see what he was doing.

“And what would she do with a planet?” He countered, trying not to smile because he could see you were serious.

“I don’t know, probably kick you off it”, you snarked, Tony rolling his eyes. “I don’t really know what to get her. She already has everything”, you moaned in sorrow. “Do you have any ideas?”

“No, she’s not my mom”, he retorted, making you want to kick him but you weren’t supposed to move.

“What are you making anyway?” You frowned, looking around the laboratory where a couple of robots were cleaning up after his messes. Tony was fully submerged in his technology, unable to answer you as he soldered the pieces together. “Can you make me another suit?”

“Now, that’s a gift for your mother”, he chuckled. “And I’d get another ass-whooping in return. Wonderful”, he commented sarcastically, pulling the tool from your hands and moving on to something else.

“Come on”, you grumbled. “I need your help. I wanna give her something cool. Can you make her something?” You whined desperately, following him around like a lost puppy.

“Shouldn’t you be doing that?” He pointed out, turning around to look at you. “I’ve got a whole other mother to please this weekend”, he reminded you.

“What are you getting for Pep?” You asked in the hopes of finding something that you could use as inspiration.

“I’m not telling you. You’re just gonna steal my idea”, he sneered.

“You don’t have anything”, you stated bluntly, Tony raising his brow at your discernment.
“I have something”, he protested.

“Flowers are lame, Tony. Be better”, you chastised.

“Fine, you got me”, he sighed, lifting his hands up. “I have nothing”, he confessed in defeat. “When did you become so observant?” He sounded like it vexed him that he was no longer able to fool you.

“Somewhere between twelve and now”, you chuckled. You know, I’m almost thirteen”, you reminded him gleefully, earning a small scoff from him.

“Right. So, what are we gonna do about the gifts?”

“I have an idea, but I’m not sure if it’s good enough. I feel like I need something more to give, a real gift”, you lamented, giving him a sad look.

“What’s your idea?” He walked closer to you, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

“I feel like it’s dumb. I’d need one of those video frames that you can put on a nightstand or something. I don’t have the money to buy one, although the ones in stores are ugly anyway. Also I’d need like a slideshow effect”, you continued, Tony looking at you in disbelief as you elaborated your meaningful gift idea down to the smallest detail.

“I don’t think there’s a gift more perfect”, he admitted. “Did you come here to gloat? I thought you had nothing”, he countered in an accusatory tone that made you laugh. “Then you come here to rub my failure into my face, leaving me high and dry”, he stated dramatically.

“No! I just need something better, something more”, you explained in a little giggle, finding his attitude silly. “And I can help you with Pep’s gift if you want”, you offered.

“If I want…” he muttered with an attitude, but you knew he was only messing with you. “Listen. Your gift is perfect. Don’t change a thing. I’ll make the frame for you, okay?” A huge grin spread onto your lips. “Come here”, he ordered, pulling you in front of him, a tape measure appearing out of nowhere as he started to measure the length of your limbs.

“What are you doing?” You asked in confusion.

“I’m getting your measurements for the suit”, he answered, like it was the most normal and predictable thing he could’ve done. Sometimes you struggled to keep up with his messy brain.

“Is that your gift?” You frowned, earning a chuckle.

“No, this is just for fun. Don’t tell your mother”, he warned, crouching down to measure the length of your leg. He didn’t need to know your exact measurements because the suits he made were very customizable. He just needed a general idea of your current size to make sure he would be able to tinker you a suit that fit your body and needs. “Come back next week for a fitting”, he added, an excited smirk on his face. “You and Morgan can come at the same time if you’d like.”

You brainstormed for gift ideas for a good while as Tony began his work on your frame. You exhausted every single idea until he finally found one that accurately conveyed his love and appreciation for Pepper. You bid him goodbye before moving on to the next person on your list of people you needed to visit.

“I wanna make a card for my mom”, you announced the second you caught Steve in the hallway. He turned to look at you, clearly not having expected you to appear from out of nowhere.

“Hey, Y/N”, he greeted with a warm smile, his large hand brushing down your back affectionately.

“I’d wanna paint something pretty for her, but my paints are all dry and crappy, and I lost my brushes a year ago”, you explained, noticing the amusem*nt on Steve’s face as you continued to walk down the hallway.

“Sure”, he nodded in agreement to your plans. “Wanna go right now?”

“Yes, please”, you mumbled with a smile that no one around the compound could resist.

The third person and possibly the most important person you visited was Wanda because she was the very heart of your surprise. You needed her for the main event of Sunday, having reserved a couple of days to plan everything out as well as you could. You had already chosen to spend the day outside, planned out any decorations you were going to put up, and designed the flower arrangements that Wanda insisted on having even though you didn’t think Natasha would care for them that much. The final thing you needed to sort out was the catering.

“Wanda, I saw a recipe online. Remember in Disney when we had those macaroni things? I wanna try to make them”, you suggested hopefully, reminiscent of how delicious the small treats had been.

“Macarons?” Wanda frowned, looking down at the notepad in front of her on the table.

“Yeah, have you ever made them?”

“No, I don’t believe I have, but I’ve heard they can be tricky.” She seemed to be deep in thought, tapping her pen against the table rhythmically.

“Can we still try… please?” You begged, even crossing your hands to really add to the effect. Wanda chuckled, seeing right through you, but relenting regardless because it was your surprise and she had nothing against tackling a new baking challenge.

“Of course we can.” She brought her hand to your cheek, her voice so gentle and caring. She smiled at you softly, the little grin you shot her way tugging so harshly at her heartstrings that she needed to pull her hand away to hide the way her eyes started to tear up. What you were doing for Natasha was beyond sweet, something not every child was willing to do for a parent, the mere sentiment enough to make Wanda weep.

“Are you okay?” You frowned, noticing Wanda’s glossy eyes, leaning closer to her in worry.

“Oh, yes, sweet pea”, she huffed in amusem*nt, blinking her tears away in an instant. “I just… Natasha is so lucky to have a daughter like you”, she hummed, tapping the underside of your chin affectionately. “Did you wanna bake a cake too?”

“Yes! Red Velvet. It’s her favorite”, you exclaimed. “I want it to be big!”

“Okay, honey, but we can’t have two kinds of cookies, then macarons, cupcakes, and a cake. You have to choose. You can’t have it all”, Wanda reasoned, unable to wipe the smile off her face.

“Why not? She loves them all”, you protested immediately.

“We still need to pick out savory foods”, she reminded you, earning a little pout from you.

“But she likes sweet stuff”, you huffed.

“I know, angel, but the guests will get a sugar rush if we don’t have anything to balance it out”, she argued, watching you contemplate her words.

“Okay, fine. What should we serve?”
“What does Nat like?”

“I’m not sure. Last week she said she was craving caviar”, you mused, Wanda smirking at your words.

“Maybe we should just get a huge bowl of caviar then”, she said jokingly. You chuckled.

“What’s like fancy? Should we get crab legs? Oh! Crab cakes”, you decided suddenly. “She likes seafood”, you added as an explanation.

“That’s perfect. How would you feel about pasta salad? We could add chicken and tomato. All kinds of fun stuff”, she elaborated.

“Yeah, and we could make that focaccia bread she always gets when we go for coffee!” The ideas started to flow as you began to recall all different kinds of foods you had seen Natasha eat time and time again, the burst of inspiration nearly making you vibrate from excitement, Wanda’s lower lip threatening to start trembling from how adorable it all was. You figured out the rest of your catering dishes, eliminating sugar cookies to make more room for the macarons, and replacing cupcakes with rocky road squares to honor Natasha’s sugar tooth and candy cravings. The days passed rather quickly with the workload you had, each day spent with a different task that prepared you for the main event that was to be held on Sunday afternoon. You got your gift in order, cooked and baked with Wanda a couple nights in a row before the party, and did everything you possibly could to hide it all from Natasha, who was most certainly onto you in one way or another.

“You’re going baking again?” She frowned in suspicion, walking into the hallway to see you at the front door, Liho following silently in her footsteps.

“Yeah”, you nodded innocently, Natasha squinting your way.

“I see Wanda’s relying on child labor. What are you guys making in there?” She inquired, stepping a bit closer, leaning against the wall as she crossed her arms over her chest, Liho sitting down as if trying to copy her gestures.

“She just wanted to try out some recipes and I offered to help her”, you lied, Natasha raising a brow at you, those intimidating eyes looking right into your soul, although there was a hint of amusem*nt on her face, like she didn’t quite care that you were lying.

“Alright. Be back before bedtime”, she hummed before returning into the living room as you sighed in relief, slipping into the hallway. It was taking an incredible amount of willpower from Natasha not to go snooping around. She knew Mother’s Day was coming and she was trying her very best not to ruin any surprises, although she couldn’t lie, it was killing her on the inside.

On Sunday morning you woke up to an early alarm you had set the night before, quietly creeping out of bed with Liho to make sure you didn’t wake Natasha up. You made your way into the kitchen, carefully starting to empty the fridge to find your desired ingredients, having to shoo your cat off the food every now and then to avoid serving bite marks for breakfast. You didn’t make anything complicated for Natasha, knowing there was a very big chance that you would burn something if you used the frying pans. So you poured Lucky Charms and milk into two bowls, one for you and one for Natasha before slicing two bagels in half, placing each half into the toaster while Liho got to the cereal, licking up the milk with vigorous speed knowing you were seconds away from throwing it back onto the floor.

“Liho!” You hissed, scooping the cat off the kitchen counter, its paws thudding gently against the linoleum as it jumped down, Liho looking ever so displeased by its interrupted mealtime.

The edges of the first bagel were burnt so you chose that one for yourself, lowering the heat before putting in Natasha’s bagel, carefully observing it the whole time to make sure it didn’t burn, but was perfectly golden. You put some cream cheese and jam on both halves before plating them. You didn’t know how to work the coffee machine because you never used it, so you opted for a mug of tea, pouring yourself some juice from the fridge. Finally, you found a wide tray from the cupboards, piling her food on the wooden surface, leaving your own behind when you realized it would be too heavy for you to carry. You frowned, feeling like it was missing something before you remembered that you had gotten extra flowers from Wanda so you scurried back into your bedroom with Liho tucked tightly into your armpit to keep it from eating the food as you went to pick the prettiest flower from a messy bouquet of leftover flowers that Wanda had given you, choosing a huge white rose to place on the edge of the tray. You kicked Natasha’s door open gently, careful not to jostle your tray as you brought it into her room, Liho following in your footsteps. It was dark, but you could see ahead enough to find her nightstand where you set the food down. You commanded Friday to open the curtains, Natasha starting to stir immediately at the disturbance.

“Mom”, you whispered, nudging her a little as she turned around to face you, groaning quietly.

“What time is it?“ She asked, sounding a bit disoriented, slightly confused that you had come to wake her up. You rarely did that anymore because you didn’t rely on her for basic necessities. The only reason you would wake her up in the mornings was for company and cuddles, or if she slept too late in your opinion, which was rather uncommon.

“Ten”, you hummed, grinning widely, far too excited about your little surprise that was the mere beginning of the fun day you had ahead.

“Did you need something?” She asked quietly, yawning into her blanket, struggling to blink her eyes open as Liho padded gently over her body, climbing up to her chest.

“I have something for you”, you announced, Natasha’s interests immediately piqued.

“Mm, you do?” She mumbled, lifting her head off the pillow to see you and the nightstand better, her nose guiding her gaze to where the scent of bread and tea was coming from. Suddenly she was wide awake, slowly sitting up against the headboard, Liho losing its footing and stumbling into the sheets as Natasha’s surprised eyes shifted back to you. “Oh…” Was all she could get out.

“I made you breakfast in bed”, you clarified as if she would have needed an explanation to what you were doing. You had a hopeful look on your face, clearly waiting for her reaction to your thoughtful gesture.

“Myshka (little mouse)”, she nearly whispered in shock, a small pout overtaking her features as she studied the breakfast tray. “Idti sjuda, moya umnitsa (Come here, my smart girl)”, she beckoned, a huge grin finding her lips as she pulled you into her arms. You giggled quietly, sinking into her embrace, pleased out of your mind that she liked your surprise. “Oih, ty otlichnaya (Oh, you’re excellent)”, she praised, hugging you tightly, feeling overwhelmed with emotion as she kissed your head repeatedly. “Thank you so much”, Natasha mumbled into your hair as she swayed you gently in her arms, refusing to let go no matter how much Liho was trying to intervene. “This is so, so sweet of you. Thank you, baby”, she continued, your cheeks hurting from how much you were smiling.

“You like it?” You asked for confirmation, pulling back from her to see her face, her eyes red-rimmed.

“Oh, my darling, I love it. I love it so much”, she nodded, pursing her lips to fight off her tears. “I love you”, she added, pressing your nose gently like a button.

“I love you too, mom”, you mumbled a bit shyly before standing up and walking to the door. “I’m gonna go get my own food so we can watch cartoons and eat in bed”, you said, hurrying to go get your breakfast while Natasha wiped her eyes into her duvet, glaring at Liho who was there to witness her emotions. She observed it for a while, the cat moving closer to the nightstand, Natasha shaking her head in disbelief when it reached for her cream cheese bagel.

“Get out of here, dura (dummy)”, she grumbled in mild disdain, lifting Liho off the bed in a swift scoop, tossing the cat into the direction of the door, but it returned with you and the food a moment later. You all spent the morning watching TV and eating the casual breakfast you had prepared, lounging around the house until it was time for your second surprise of the day.

“I have to blindfold you”, you said all of a sudden, emerging from your bedroom with a scarf in your hands, effectively gaining Natasha’s attention.

“Blindfold me? What are you planning, lisichka (little fox)?” She asked in amusem*nt, eyeing you curiously. She had expected maybe flowers and a card for Mother’s Day, but getting blindfolded was nothing but unexpected.

“You’ll see.” You had a bright smile on your face, struggling to keep your surprise a secret. You felt like you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, like you should just tell her everything right away.

“Are you shipping me off?” She inquired teasingly, making you laugh.

“Yeah, cause you didn’t let me finish that spy movie the other night”, you quipped sarcastically, Natasha’s smirk only widening. She was loving the cheekiness that you had slowly started to adopt into your personality. She let out a quiet laugh, turning around for you so you could tie the scarf around her head.

You led her outside of the apartment, carefully guiding her into the elevator to take her to the vast grass lawns of the compound. She held tightly onto your hand, not even attempting to pry for any more information because you refused to give hints to her. You felt the way she clutched your hand tightly, clearly abnormally alert when blindfolded, listening to every sound around you. She seemed a bit confused when the gentle wind blew into her face as you both stepped outside. Natasha could feel the warm sun on her face, the gentle gust of wind brushing off the heat that didn’t quite get to linger on her skin. She could hear people talk, feel the soft sensation of grass beneath her boots as she followed you out into the lawn. She could hear laughter, some sort of kitchenware that clinked. She caught a brief whiff of food but the smell was gone before she could identify it. You came to a sudden stop, your fingers sliding beneath the scarf on her face to pull it off, bright sunlight invading her eyes, making her squint harshly at the sudden contrast.

“Surprise! Happy Mother’s Day!” You shouted in excitement, grinning like a maniac as the others joined you, cheering loudly. Natasha’s hands came up to her mouth as she took in the long table filled with food and drinks, the entire family sitting around it with happy smiles on their faces. You reached for the huge bouquet of flowers that sat on the table, handing it to her, Natasha letting out a watery chuckle at the comical sight, the bouquet at least half the size of you. She received it with open arms, getting a face full of flowers, their gentle scent invading her nose. She felt her tears spill, suddenly very glad that the bush of flowers was in her face to hide it as you guided her to her designated seat that was at the end of the table, right next to yours. “I got you a gift”, you announced, digging up the frame Tony had made for you, placing it onto the table, the screen facing the sky. A hologram popped up, displaying a square that resembled a PowerPoint presentation, bold letters giving everyone a title for your gift. You moved to a spot beside the screen where everyone could see you and began.

“Reasons why my mom is better than yours”, you said as if holding a presentation for a class full of kids, hearing some of your family members laugh affectionately, Natasha covering her face to hide her teary smile as she chuckled. “Reason number one is that she is always prepared”, you said, switching to the next slide that had a picture of you together and a meme you had found on the internet. “She has everything on hand at all times. I swear. Once she pulled out a needle and thread to patch my jeans when I fell in the park and she didn’t even have a purse. It’s like she just knew it would happen, which brings me to reason number two: she sees all and hears all. She must have a third eye or something”, you joked, Natasha looking at you with a fond smile, bringing her index finger to her mouth to signal you to keep quiet about her hidden third eye. “Although that eye seems to be blind when it comes to cats.” Your tone was teasing, Natasha rolling her eyes in mild annoyance, still struggling to accept the fact that she had let you lie to her for weeks on end because she wanted to believe that you were better than that. You laughed quietly before carrying on.

“Reason number three is that she gives really good cuddles. You guys don’t even know. Hugs, kisses, cuddles. She does it all”, you continued, unable to stop smiling because the small chuckles you heard every now and then were feeding your ego very thoroughly. The slides had a picture of you in Natasha’s arms from when you were around six years old, Natasha’s mouth curving downward at the sight of it. She brought her hands to her chest, struggling to process the intense sense of longing she felt. In the picture, you wore a princess dress, and an atrociously messy head of hair, your body curled up against your mother’s chest. You could tell that Natasha was barely holding it together which prompted you to quickly move on to avoid tearing up yourself because you knew you had a really bad habit of mirroring your mother’s emotions no matter what they were, and you happened to be especially sensitive to her tears.

“Reason number four: goofy”, you stated. “She’s super funny and she’s never afraid to hang out with me or do silly things.” Natasha nodded in agreement, your eyes traveling across the audience, pleased with the fact that everyone was smiling, everyone except Wanda. You frowned at her tear-streaked face, unsure if you should continue or not, but she offered you a bright smile in assurance, silently urging you to go on as she tugged Vision a little closer to her for comfort.

“Reason number five: insanely strong”, you read off the slide that had a picture of Natasha using little-you as a barbell. “She could kick all of your asses and that’s saying something. That’s how strong she is. And not just physically, but mentally too”, you said with pride, Natasha itching to just bring you into a hug already, her fingers fiddling with a napkin that she had used to dry her tears.

“Reason number six! She’s always there to comfort me, and she can always make me feel better no matter what has happened”, you stated, looking right at her with your beautiful, joy-filled eyes. You felt overwhelmed with emotion, quickly averting your gaze from her as you recalled the way it felt to sob your sorrows away in her embrace. “Reason number seven is that she makes super yummy pb&j.” The next slide showed a picture of you at two years old with jam smeared over your mouth and forehead, your left hand holding the jelly side of the sandwich, right one holding the peanut butter side. Natasha nearly lost her composure and burst into tears at the picture, laughing unabashedly at the memory of her being frustrated out of her mind with you that day. She could vividly remember how cranky you had been all day, your bad mood having eventually rubbed off on her. Natasha’s last straw had been you using the afternoon snack as a face mask.

“Reason number nine: she’s always there for me. No matter what I’ve done or haven’t done. She’s always on my side”, you said proudly, honored to have her unconditional support, a genuine smile finding Natasha’s lips as she nodded in agreement. “Reason number ten: she gave me all of you”, you said in a much gentler tone, starting to feel the vulnerability of your gift, sensing that others were getting more emotional as well, all of the laughter dying down, everyone’s faces softening. “I love you”, you added, not really directing it to anyone specifically because you loved everyone who had managed to come to support Natasha even if she wasn’t their mother. You loved them for it, loved each and every single one of them.

“And finally reason number eleven —a bonus reason. She… she wanted me when no one else did”, you whispered, feeling your eyes suddenly itch with tears. The surge of emotions was so strong you just froze, tears cascading freely down your cheeks until Natasha prompted you to come to her, engulfing you in her comforting embrace. “I love you, mama”, you whimpered, sniffling quietly, not allowing your crying to turn into sobbing as you tucked your face into her neck, letting her hold you until the intensity of your emotions passed. She kissed your temple, rocking you side to side gently as she rubbed your back. God, she missed you calling her mama. She missed it so much.

“I love you more. Thank you, malyshka (baby). This was the best gift ever”, she murmured into your ear, kissing your cheek repeatedly until you let out a little chuckle at the way her lips tickled. “Truly. There are no words for how amazing you are”, she whispered. “You’re perfect.”

“No one’s perfect”, you chuckled, pulling back to look at her, wiping your tears away, Natasha smiling softly at the glossiness of your eyes.

“You are, at least to mama”, she mumbled, cupping your face to bring you closer for a forehead kiss. She hugged you one more time before allowing you to get back to hosting the party.

“That was a really good demonstration of reasons three and six”, you huffed, making everyone laugh yet again. “Oh, and I got you a card!” You were suddenly reminded of the card you had made with Steve, digging it up from under your seat. “Here. Steve helped me”, you added as you handed the card to Natasha. It was a small painting of her, albeit it was a pretty ugly one because you weren’t very skilled with portraits, or anything drawing related really, but you had done your best with Steve’s guidance and managed to accomplish something. At least the painting had red hair to easily symbolize who it was meant to be. “Tony helped me with the slides and the frame. You can put it on your nightstand and change the pictures whenever you want to, or you can rewatch the slides”, you explained, gaining Tony’s attention.

“No need to thank me. I already know I’m amazing”, he quipped from the other end of the table, making you and Natasha laugh in unison as you glanced at him, Pepper, and Morgan.

“And me and Wanda did all this”, you told Natasha, pointing at the table and the food it carried.

“Oh, wow. You’ve been working your little butt off”, Natasha marveled in genuine excitement over her gift. “This is incredible, kroshka (little one). You really went all out for Mother’s Day. This was so thoughtful of you”, she murmured, kissing your cheek again and again, unable to keep her lips to herself as she studied the card in her hands. “Gospadi (oh my god), and did you paint this all by yourself?” She asked in astonishment, observing the work of art, amused by the bright red curls and neon green eyes. “You’re so talented.” You nodded your head, your chest swelling with joy from your mother’s positive reaction as well as all the praise you were receiving. It felt like the effort you had put into her gift had paid off, like it had been worth every second of planning, baking, and painting.

“There’s another card here”, Natasha mused as she peeked inside the folded up piece of cardboard, pulling another similar one out in confusion. She frowned as you grabbed it.

“That one’s for my second mother.” You had a small, a bit more shy smile on your face as you walked around the table to Wanda who was barely holding it together. “I know you’re not really a mother, but you still deserve to be celebrated”, you reasoned, handing the card to her. “Happy Mother’s Day.” You saw the fat tears that pooled in Wanda’s eyes as she accepted the small painting of a cupcake, her constant sniffles only getting louder. “Like I said, you’re my second mother. Half of that presentation applies to you too”, you mumbled with a slightly hesitant smile because Wanda could not stop crying.

“Oh, thank you, baby”, she whimpered, not even daring to open the card to see what it said on the inside, afraid that she was going to start sobbing.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been crying the whole time.” You spoke quietly, afraid that something serious had happened. The others around the table started to look even more concerned as well, allowing their focus to shift to Wanda since your gift had reached its end.

“Nothing, sweet pea. Everything is perfect”, she assured you, smoothing her hand down your arm.

“Then why are you crying?”

“Well… I am a mother”, she said as if to correct your statement from earlier, sounding a bit shy. “Or I’m about to be”, she clarified, your jaw nearly falling off its hinges.

“What?”

“You’re pregnant?” Natasha gasped, followed by a few more gasps from Steve, Pepper, and Clint. Vision had a happy, little smile on his face as he rubbed Wanda’s back comfortingly.

“Yes”, Wanda nodded, struggling to hold back her cries. “Ten weeks”, she added as you sank into her embrace.

“Oh my god!” You cheered, hugging her tightly, the rest of the family joining in on the congratulations that sounded in the air as they digested the news. Natasha got up from her seat, walking to Wanda with a huge grin on her lips, waiting for you to pull away so that she too could give Wanda a warm hug. Natasha squeezed her tightly, filled with genuine excitement for the fulfillment of Wanda’s lifelong dream. Natasha backed away a bit, cupping Wanda’s cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the fresh tears that rolled down Wanda’s face, Natasha pursing her lips at the emotion that shone through Wanda’s exterior.

“It’s the hormones”, Wanda whined, her mouth curving into a downward smile.

“Oh, it’s the worst. The hormones are crazy”, Natasha agreed earnestly, receiving a comical frown from you.

“Mom, you were never pregnant”, you commented, making Wanda let out a watery laugh.

“As far as I’m concerned I popped you right out of my vagin* all by myself”, Natasha huffed in defense, turning to give you a small look of amusem*nt.

“Mommm!” Your whining was followed by a small giggle, the others laughing as well. “No, you didn’t.”

“I might as well have”, she mumbled. “I did breastfeed her though.” Her words were directed to Wanda even though she was turned to you, Natasha pinching your cheek teasingly to annoy you just a little bit. “And those hormones I took were quite the ride sometimes”, she recalled, turning her attention back to Wanda to bring her into her embrace yet again. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother. You’ve already proven that with my Y/N. You’ve been an irreplaceable and a very crucial part of both our lives, and just like Y/N said, you deserve to be celebrated.” Natasha pulled back to look at Wanda before turning to everyone. “So does Pepper”, she stated almost solemnly, smiling at Pepper and Morgan, who sat on her mother’s lap. “I know this party was dedicated to me, but I want us to celebrate everyone. Even the guys, who had to sometimes mother my child around. You’re the reason I’m everything that was said in that presentation. You gave me so much strength and support that allowed me to become the mother I am today”, she continued, receiving nods of agreement, huge grins plastered on everyone’s faces. “Although, this is still Mother’s Day, so remember to stay in your lane guys”, she finished jokingly, but there was a hint of threat somewhere in there.

“I know that’s right!” Clint cheered, raising his glass full of bright pink liquid that you had chosen as the main co*cktail of the party, Natasha offering him a fond smile. She already knew he was going to be tipsy by the end of the night. There were a lot of hugs and kisses, loud laughter, and happy chatter before everyone was back in their seats, ready to eat. You all clinked your pink glasses together, you, Morgan, and Wanda drinking mocktail versions of the same beverage, moving on to tasting each and every delicious thing you and Wanda had made in the kitchen.

“And look! I got you caviar”, you squealed, handing the small bowl to Natasha who couldn’t help but to laugh.

“You remembered”, she noted, pulling you closer to press another wet smooch on your forehead. You were sure there was going to be a permanent imprint of her lips left on your face, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“And the rocky road’s got all your favorites. We put Oreos, mini marshmallows, those dry Russian cookies that taste like cardboard, caramel bites, sour candies, salted peanuts, and raspberry jellies”, you showed her, biting into a square of said treat to show all the different snacks you had packed into it.

“How did you even remember I like all of that?” She marveled in amusem*nt, grabbing a square for herself, unable to resist the urge after your incredibly effective sales pitch.

“It’s what we always have in our cupboards”, you chuckled. “We might have to go to the grocery store next week”, you added quietly.

“Did you steal my candy stash?”

“Maybe”, you smirked, Natasha rolling her eyes in good nature.

“Well, at least it wasn’t Clint”, she muttered in amusem*nt, shooting a small look his way as if keeping an eye out for him before her gaze wandered to you cutting a far too large slice of cake for yourself.

Just like Natasha had expected, you got too full, eventually squirming off your seat in discomfort, going to lay in the grass where Morgan was playing. Natasha was more than amused by the sight of Morgan trying to tug you up to go play with her while you whined on the ground for having eaten too much.

“Come play with me!” She cried loudly, tugging on your arm with her whole body weight. Morgan growled in frustration, suddenly attacking you, but her attempts at climbing over your body were rather feeble because she was five and weighed very little. You laughed as she whined again, frustrated that you were able to just use your feet to push her back.

“Morgan, I ate too much. I can’t play”, you reasoned, earning a huge pout from her.

“But I wanna play”, she protested, leaning forward, the weight of her body bending your legs to your chest which was anything but a good feeling in your stuffed tummy, so you straightened your legs up, Morgan giggling wildly once she realized she had been lifted into an airplane, her body balancing on the bottoms of your feet in the air.

“Give me your hands”, you commanded, reaching for Morgan’s small hands to offer more support because her core strength seemed to be almost nonexistent as her upper body dangled linearly with your shins. She laughed again, finally realizing she could straighten her arms to support herself, the action giving her a much better view of her surroundings, as if she was flying above the grass.

“Mommy! Mommy!” She cried loudly, gaining everyone’s attention at the table. “I can fly!” She screeched, grinning as wide as she could.

“Wow, honey, that's amazing! Be careful though”, Pepper warned, the command clearly directed at you because you were the one responsible for whether Morgan fell head first into the grass or not. Tony looked at his daughter with the utmost fondness in his deep brown eyes. He couldn’t wait to actually teach his daughter to fly. He had a feeling Morgan was going to love it.

“Turbulence”, you announced to Morgan whose gaze shifted down to you, loud peals of laughter falling from her lips as you bent your legs repeatedly to create the sensation of going over bumps. You held onto her sticky hands that were no doubt covered in the macaron filling; Morgan had become obsessed with the fancy treats. You moved your legs back and forth, side to side, trying to create different kinds of sensations for your passenger, occasionally bouncing her a bit higher, making sure your hands always remained connected. “Oh, no!” You cried dramatically, swaying from side to side. “Help, the plane is crashing!” Morgan was nothing but delighted by the news, laughing every time you tipped her body to the side. “Mayday, mayday! We’re crashing!” You shouted dramatically, bringing her closer to the ground, so close that your balance nearly wavered and you struggled to find the strength to bring her back up again, Morgan laughing in the sharpest, most childish way possible.

“Why- why do they say mayday?” She asked in curiosity between giggles.

“I don’t know, but we’re going down!” You cried, swinging her to the side, Morgan screeching in joy as you lowered her carefully into the grass where she rolled around as if she would have actually fallen from a moving vehicle, screeching loudly. She sat upright soon after.

“Again! Again! I wanna go again!” Morgan announced, already climbing back onto you, her brown locks tangled up, the red bow in her hair crooked and about to fall out. You brushed her dress down a bit with your feet before hoisting her back into the air. You played the same game over and over again until your legs felt weak and you felt like throwing up. Morgan didn’t seem to suffer from such side effects, requesting to board on another flight.

“I’m getting tired”, you lamented, Morgan giving you a deep frown that reminded you very vividly of Tony. “Let’s do something else”, you suggested, Morgan sitting cross-legged in the grass, her dress puffed up around her. She huffed quietly, trying to come up with something equally as fun to do.

“Let’s go ask daddy. He always has something”, Morgan suggested brightly as you stood up, offering your hand to her to help her up.

“Did you want a piggyback ride?” You asked knowingly, Morgan nodding her head, her hands already tugging you lower to allow her to climb onto your back. You ran to Tony, unrestricted squeals sounding from behind you as Morgan bounced on your back. You were exhausted but the sounds she was making did bring a smile to your face. You tipped her down onto Tony’s lap who welcomed the lively girl with some intense tickles, her laughter turning into breathless cackles that made everyone smile, everyone except Wanda who was fighting tears yet again. You hurried to your seat to find water, needing to quench your thirst as soon as possible.

“Mom, I’m dying. She won’t let go of me”, you whined, although you didn’t actually mind the way Morgan sought your company. Sometimes you just liked to be dramatic. Natasha smiled at you, clearly finding the situation rather ironic.

“Guess who used to be just like her?” She asked, holding back her smile as she turned to look at you properly.

“I was like that?”

“Oh, baby, you were even worse”, she chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. “No child in America has been thrown around as much as you’ve been”, she muttered in amusem*nt. “You should go ask Steve how his back is doing”, she added jokingly. You cracked a smile, swiping a taste of frosting off your plate before going back to play with Morgan who had gotten the bright idea for you two to pretend to be sheep on a hill. So, naturally you both got on your knees in the grass, making the weirdest noises to imitate sheep, trying to see which one of you could go longer without chortling like there was no tomorrow. Natasha shook her head fondly at the sight, turning to look at Wanda who seemed rather miserable despite her soft smile as she licked a huge spoonful of frosting like it was a lollipop, tears streaming freely down her face. She had stopped trying to control her emotions long ago.

“You’ll soon have your own little sheep in there.” Natasha’s words were filled with fond amusem*nt, her eyes shining from excitement for the new addition to the family. She knew exactly how much Wanda had always wished for her own child, and there was no one in the world who deserved it as much as Wanda did. There was no doubt about it.

“Shh, don’t say stuff like that I’m gonna cry”, Wanda moaned, giving Natasha a tired look.

“Gonna?” Natasha raised her brows, Wanda chortling out a laugh at her remark.

“Well, it’s not helping. That’s for sure”, she huffed, wiping her eyes dry once more. “I just… she’s so beautiful. You’ve raised such a beautiful daughter, inside and out”, Wanda whispered, sniffling quietly as her fingers played with two macaron halves she had separated and licked off their filling. “And… I want to be like you. I want to be a good mother, but I don’t know how. I feel like I don’t know anything”, she admitted a bit shyly, feeling ridiculous for admitting to the way she looked up at Natasha, not only as a mother, but as a woman.

“Well, I didn’t have much of a say in the looks department”, Natasha hummed jokingly, Wanda rolling her reddened eyes. “But you’re right, she is beautiful… in every way possible.” The look on Natasha’s face was tender as her eyes remained on your joy-filled features, your smile stretching even wider when Morgan let out a silly noise as she pretended to munch on grass. Natasha turned back to Wanda, the corner of her mouth tugging up in a small smile. “I always knew I had an admirer”, she teased, Wanda scoffing in return, but the air between them remained gentle and loving. “The good news is that you’re a lot like me, sometimes even better than me.” Wanda raised her brows in surprise. “I know, I know, don’t let it get to your head”, Natasha warned in a small chuckle, feigning her smugness. “I didn’t know what I was doing, especially in the beginning, but you were so gentle, so motherly with Y/N that it used to make me insecure. At times, I felt like you had this natural maternal instinct that I lacked”, she explained solemnly, looking wistfully ahead into the freshly blooming nature around her.

“That’s because I avoided her at all costs when she was crying”, Wanda noted, unable to fight her smile at the memories that flooded her mind. “You only saw me during good times.”

“That’s not true”, Natasha countered. “Well, maybe at first, but you learned quickly, and that’s exactly what my point is. You’re gonna learn it all eventually. I was a mess for the first year, maybe two, and I’m about to lose my mind yet again because I’ve got high school, and crushes, and drama coming my way.” She looked at you again, her heart clenching from both love and anxiety. The world was a scary place for a teenage girl, and there was nothing that Natasha dreaded quite as much as seeing you get hurt. She knew it was inevitable, she knew it was coming, yet there was no way for her to prepare for it. “It’s never gonna be easy, but it’s gonna be so worth it”, Natasha mused, her attention shifting back to Wanda as Natasha’s hand came up to her co*cktail glass, fingers skimming along the cool surface. “I think you’ll excel at motherhood”, she said, a heartfelt smile on her face. “In fact, I know you will because like Y/N said, you’ve practically been a mother for all these years. We could share custody of that child”, Natasha chuckled, winking at Wanda who could do nothing but laugh at Natasha’s antics.

“I really hope you’re right”, Wanda hummed, looking down at her macaron halves, the dome of the one in her left hand having caved in from the pressure of her fingers.

“When have I been wrong?” Natasha took a sip of her drink, pleased to see the way Wanda’s constant tears were slowly replaced by lingering smiles.

“I have something I wanted to ask you”, Wanda began after a moment of silence, her tentative eyes meeting Natasha’s. “Would you want to be my child’s godmother?” Natasha’s eyes softened, her entire demeanor practically melting at the words.

“Of course. I’d love nothing more”, she whispered, reaching her hand for Wanda’s. Wanda dropped her macaron on the plate and allowed Natasha to grasp her hand, Natasha holding it between her own. Wanda’s eyes welled up with tears, a soft grumble falling from her lips as she wiped them away hastily, sick of herself for constantly crying at the smallest of things.

“I’m just so overwhelmed”, she offered as an explanation, Natasha smiling knowingly. She pulled Wanda into her arms, offering her all the comfort she could possibly give her.

“Welcome to motherhood, dorogaya (darling)”, Natasha whispered softly into Wanda’s hair, squeezing her tightly.

Chapter 42: Girls’ day

Chapter Text

You pulled off your sweaty shirt, throwing it into your laundry basket, prompting Liho’s head to pop up at the sudden noise. You were exhausted, your muscles aching from the effort you had put into your training session. You felt like even your mind was in such shambles that it prevented you from thinking anything at all, at least anything positive. You looked in the mirror, studying the sports bra you had uncovered, sighing quietly. It didn’t fit. It was too tight, which made it uncomfortable and even painful in places where the edges dug into your skin and left it tender and irritated. You mostly wore sports bras and silly training bras that were just as ill-fitting as the bra you had on. You were growing out of them and desperately needed to find something more comfortable to wear. It was rather obvious to you, but you felt awkward about bringing it up. It felt like an unnecessary task amongst the hectic life you had somehow acquired through school, practice and friends. You didn’t have the time to think about something as trivial as growing up when your days were filled with things that were much more important than bras. You had been contemplating on bringing it up with your mother so you could go buy new ones, real ones, for a while now, but somehow it felt like an oddly embarrassing thing to talk about, even though you knew it was perfectly normal and you knew that your mother would be nothing but supportive.

You pulled off your sports bra and leggings, glaring at the mirror. You didn’t want your body to change but that wasn’t up to you and it made it difficult for you to feel good about yourself when you were constantly changing. You felt awkward. You didn’t like the way you looked in clothes. You looked out of proportion, like your body parts didn’t match the others. You wished you would have looked more like a real woman, and less like a pubescent girl. You couldn’t quite decide whether you wanted your old body back or for it to grow quicker so you could look more adult. Whichever the case may have been, you were still not happy with your body and there was nothing you could do about it. Only time would fix it… hopefully. You heard a knock at the door, an involuntary sigh escaping your lips. You didn’t mind your mother seeing you naked, or hadn’t minded it, but suddenly you just couldn’t imagine anything worse.

“Yes?” You asked hastily, yanking on a towel that Liho was laying on from the end of your bed to cover yourself up. Liho looked ever so displeased by the rude interruption of its nap, the cat giving you a judgmental look as it curled up into a ball in a different spot on your bed.

“Just asking what you’d like for dinner”, Natasha replied from the other side, fully and completely respecting your want for privacy.

“Anything’s fine”, you mumbled rather unenthusiastically, suddenly feeling like you wanted to be comforted. You wanted to talk to her because you knew she could and would make you feel better about yourself, so you waited for her to notice the tone you had used, already knowing what her next words were going to be.

“Is everything okay, milaya (honey)?” Her voice seemed to soften, her hand landing on the doorknob as if she could only barely hold herself back from coming in after noticing that something was wrong.

“Come in.” Natasha opened the door, shutting it behind her to create a closed, comfortable space for the both of you. She walked to the bed that you were sitting on, nudging Liho aside to find more space as she sat down, her arm brushing against yours. The cat let out a small, angry sound as it moved onto your lap. It had been a good while since you had adopted Liho into your family, over six months, and Natasha and Liho still struggled to get along. Sometimes you found it hilarious and other times you simply couldn’t understand it. You were sick of their constant, mild banter, as funny as it was. You wished she could have loved the cat and accepted it wholeheartedly, but a part of her was still stuck in the past, stuck on the lies you had told her. You glanced at her warily, your hands petting Liho gently. Natasha didn’t say or ask anything, just sat beside you and waited until you were ready to talk.

“I think I need a real bra”, you said quietly, biting your lower lip as a nervous tic, your hand brushing down Liho’s back.

“Okay”, Natasha nodded, feeling like that wasn’t it. “You’re free after school tomorrow, right?” She asked, looking your way. “I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to the mall.” You nodded at the plan, looking into her firm, safe eyes.

“Can we get ice cream?” You couldn’t help the small smirk that appeared on your lips.

“Can we?” She chuckled in disbelief, nudging you playfully. “Of course we can”, she said, ruffling your hair. She pulled back, caressing your cheek softly. “Now what else is on your mind?” You glanced down, frowning lightly, a pout forming onto your lips. You went back to playing with Liho’s fur, trying to figure out a way to word your predicament. The cat had gained a significant amount of weight and currently possessed a healthy-looking physique, your hands no longer able to feel its ribs as you gave it scratches.

“I hate the way I look”, you admitted to her, sighing heavily. “I look so weird and awkward.”

“Honey, hate is a very strong word and I don’t think you should use it when talking about yourself”, Natasha said immediately, her eyes softening at the sorrow on your face. She knew what it was like, she understood you and she was going to do her damn best to make sure you didn’t fall any deeper into that agonizing rabbit hole.

“Well, I don’t like how I look”, you corrected yourself bitterly.

“Why?”

“Cause I have boobs now, somehow, and I’ve got these weird lines on them and my… it’s all weird and they hurt a lot and I’m growing in weird places”, you explained with an angry huff, stumbling through your answer, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment. Natasha had to bite the inside of her cheek at that to swallow down her chuckle, doing her best to avoid making you feel like your feelings weren’t valid. But you were just so comically adorable.

“Baby, that’s completely normal. That’s just how it is. You’re becoming an adult and your body is changing”, she explained, her hand smoothing over your bicep as she held you, tugging you tighter into her side.

“I don’t like it”, you grumbled, your hand conforming to the movement of Liho’s body as it changed its position on your lap, rubbing its face into your middle in an affectionate manner typical for cats.

“I know it’s uncomfortable, but we’ll get you a bra that has the right amount of support and that will help with the sensitivity. It’ll all be alright.” Her voice was filled with assurance, her soft smile holding a hint of encouragement behind it. “It’ll pass with time, I promise. It won’t last forever. Remember you’re perfect, okay? You’re perfect just the way you are”, she added, looking at your pretty face. “You’re so perfect”, she reiterated, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut at the gesture, your body leaning automatically closer to her.

“Mom?”

“Yeah, darling?”

“You know how I used to not care if you’d come into my room when I was getting dressed and stuff?” Natasha nodded her head. “I don’t want anyone to see me naked anymore.” You were wording everything exceptionally poorly, but you didn’t know how to communicate to her what you were after. You had never cared about her seeing you naked. You had never even thought about it, not until it slowly started to make you uncomfortable. You were briefly reminded of the way you had felt during the time your ankle had been injured and she had come to aid you in the shower. Something had changed, something about it just didn’t feel right. “Is that okay?” You felt like it was a dumb question, but you wanted to somehow tell her that you weren’t comfortable with nudity anymore, not the way you used to be.

“Oh, of course it is”, she said with a soft smile. “I’ll make sure to knock every single time from now on.” She squeezed you gently. “Remember what I always say? It’s your body and it’s your choice.” You nodded. “No one, not even me, has the right to touch you or make you feel uncomfortable. Only you are entitled to your body. Even at the doctor’s. You always have a say, remember that”, she said firmly, her hand moving up to your head, fingers combing over your hair as you nodded again. You felt relieved for managing to communicate boundaries, finding comfort in the fact that your mother was always so understanding of you.

“I just don’t want to offend you or make you think I hate – don’t like– you”, you corrected yourself with a little huff of a laugh.

“And it’s my job to make sure you have no reason for that.” The look on Natasha’s face was solemn.

“I could never hate you”, you mumbled quietly, leaning your head against her shoulder. “Never, ever”, you added for emphasis, Natasha kissing the top of your head, your eyes lingering on Liho who was thoroughly distracted by a loose string on Natasha’s knit sweater.

“Liho clearly has a different opinion”, Natasha muttered, glancing down at Liho as it tried to catch the string with its sharp nails. She swatted its paw away, Liho mewling quietly, squinting its eyes when Natasha copied the sound just to annoy it.

“Why do you hate her?” You asked rather boldly, Natasha giving you a look as if to ask you to elaborate.

“I don’t hate her.” Natasha’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

“Well, you don’t exactly love her either.” You couldn’t help the bitterness that bled into your tone as you spoke the words, hurt by her lack of effort at befriending your pet. Liho stepped off your lap and onto Natasha’s when the string went out of its reach, its soft paws taking tentative steps forward.

“What do you mean? Look at that. We’re best friends”, she said jokingly, her tone so sincere that had you not been accustomed to her sarcasm you would have taken her seriously. You glanced down at Liho, noting how both of them seemed tense before your gaze shifted up to Natasha’s face to see her awkward frown as the cat’s paws dug softly into her thighs.

“I see what you mean”, you quipped with an equivalent amount of sarcasm, Natasha merely smirking at you as her hands hovered above Liho, like she didn’t quite want to pet the cat. “I’m gonna go shower now and leave you two to it.” You stood up, glancing back at the pair with a small smirk on your face before heading out of your room. Natasha didn’t move, sitting on the edge of your bed, carefully observing Liho who turned to look at her, the eye contact it was making prompting Natasha to raise her brows questioningly. Its attention shifted to her hovering hand, the cat pushing its face into Natasha’s warm palm, and she let it. There was a soft purr from Liho, a gentle sound that came off as affectionate, Natasha failing to notice the smile that appeared on her lips as she allowed her hand to pet the black, soft fur. Liho pushed even harder, nuzzling its head first into her hand, and then to her chest. “And that’s enough.” Natasha pushed Liho off her, chuckling quietly when the cat let out a displeased meow.

The next day, after school, you waited for Natasha at the entrance gates until a sleek, red car pulled up right on your spot. A couple of your newer friends were with you, so you said goodbye to them, feeling your cheeks heat at the way they ogled at your mother’s fancy car. You swore she picked you up in the most ostentatious sports cars possible just to annoy you. There was a low whistle that you decided to ignore as you hurried to the curb, yanking the car door open, sitting down, and dropping your backpack to the space by your feet. You were pulled into a warm embrace, Natasha’s perfume invading your nose. You chuckled quietly at the kisses you received, trying to scramble out of her hold.

“How was school?” She asked, releasing you only partly before cupping your face.

“It was okay”, you hummed, closing your eyes for the onslaught of kisses you received. “Enough, mom”, you groaned, pushing her away a bit. She ruffled your hair, switching gears automatically to pull out of her brief parking spot, a wide smile on her face. She was clearly ecstatic about the shopping trip.

“Did you get a lot of homework?” She asked, turning to the road, her focus shifting more to the traffic around her, although she was listening for your answer intently if her grin was anything to go by.

“Yeah, mostly math and history”, you mumbled, not so excited about that.

“Let me know if you need help with it.” She was fighting the urge to pull you to her side, her hand itching to just squish your little cheeks in the most annoying way possible. She was more than excited about your little shopping day and she genuinely cherished any time she got to spend with you now that you were rapidly becoming more independent. She could barely contain her enthusiasm.

“Thanks”, you said with a small smile. “Can we go get McDonald’s? For an afternoon snack?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at her, trying to seem as cute and irresistible as possible. Natasha gave you a look, a sly smirk on her face.

“You just don’t like the food I made yesterday”, she mumbled.

“Well- because you put everything I hate in it”, you whined. “It’s like you wanted me to starve!” You sank into your seat, ready to put on your sulking face because your mother didn’t agree to go get burgers on such a special day.

“Don’t give me that look”, she said in a gentle chastise. “We’ll go to McDonald’s.” She had a knowing smile on her face as she turned to the parking lot of a nearby mall. Who was she to deny a perfectly plausible excuse to eat deliciously unhealthy food with no nutritional value whatsoever? You needed a snack. A child should never have to go hungry. You whipped your head around to give her a look of disbelief.

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m starving”, she groaned, turning off the engine and taking off her seatbelt.

“Yes!” You got out of the car and headed toward the entrance of the mall, Natasha locking the car before following in your footsteps. When she was close enough, you grabbed her warm hand, absentmindedly starting to fiddle with the silver and green bracelet you had made her years ago. You were definitely old enough to not do that anymore, but you liked it and you liked it even more when Natasha gave your hand a gentle squeeze, tugging you close, just like she always used to do when you were younger and she didn’t want you to wander off anywhere. She loved that you still needed her, and what she loved even more was that you wanted her around even if you no longer needed her supervision to keep you safe in a busy mall. She wanted to give you all of her, all her time and energy because you deserved it. You deserved to be loved and cherished as much as you allowed it.

You went straight into the restaurant, doing your best to stay slightly behind so you could hopefully make Natasha order your food in an attempt to avoid having to talk to the teenager behind the cash register. She looked so old and cool that you were more than intimidated, but you had no such luck. Natasha had slowly stopped ordering for you at restaurants, wanting you to do it yourself so that you could actually learn how to function like a normal human being. You hated it, but you did want your food, so you had no other choice but to order it yourself, although knowing that Natasha had your back in case something happened alleviated your anxiety immensely. You hated how you stuttered a bit when speaking to the girl behind the cash register, but overall everything went fine. You got your food ten minutes later, Natasha watching you bite into your burger as she picked up one of her chicken nuggets. You chatted about your school day, almost completely forgetting the very reason you had come to the mall in the first place, but when all the food had been consumed the realization dawned on you, and you remembered once again what you had ahead of you.

Natasha led you in front of a lingerie store on the second floor of the mall, walking you inside like it was nothing but a regular clothing store. And you were sure that that was exactly what it was to her, but you felt your cheeks heat at the rather sexy pieces of underwear that were on display, the lace sets making you duck your head down. Oh, dear lord. You studied the floor tiles as you walked past the lacy garments, taking the smallest of peeks at a dark red lace thong with a small diamond in the middle of the waistband. You were mortified, but you had to admit they were kind of cute, although definitely very adult. You would have to find yourself something much more tame, and more teenager friendly.

“I know it’s awkward at first but you’ll be okay”, Natasha said comfortingly, looking around the aisles as if in search of something, a polite smile finding her face once a worker caught her attention. You could barely look the pretty saleswoman in the eye when she came to ask if you needed help. You shuffled on your feet lightly, trying to look away, but every shelf carried either underwear or bras that heated your cheeks up to be almost scalding hot. Why was it so awkward? It was just underwear. To your utter horror Natasha said yes to the help she had been offered, your head whipping around to look at her in disbelief, but she just hushed you softly, stroking your cheek soothingly. Oh, you were so going to kick her ass for putting you in such an uncomfortable situation. You were led to somewhere between the shelves, the incredibly beautiful woman with a warm smile and soft eyes suggesting you a couple of different sizes to get an idea of what your measurements were. The entire time you just stood there, feeling your hands grow clammy every time she looked at you with those gorgeous eyes.

“Holler me, if you need any assistance or more sizes”, the woman said, giving you and Natasha a bright smile before going back to work at the cash register. You sighed in relief, awkwardly holding the bras in your hands. Oh, good god.

“Come on, sweetheart”, Natasha prompted you encouragingly, patting your back a little. “Go put one on and I’ll check if it fits right after”, she instructed, watching how you got inside the fitting room, shutting the curtain rather aggressively. You were not liking the situation in the slightest. You yanked off the clothes from your top half, glaring at your growing chest, pulling on a bra as quickly as you could without giving any thought to which one of them you chose. It was maybe slightly exciting that you were starting to resemble an adult, but somehow all the embarrassment you felt was enough to snuff out any spark of joy you might have felt.

“Okay, it’s on!” You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling conflicted. The bra was pretty. It was a very ordinary T-shirt bra with a small bow in the middle where the under-bust wires connected. The material was nice and felt comfortable against your skin, but you could not ignore how strange it felt to wear a bra, a real bra. It was uncomfortable. It felt like the straps, and the wires, and rubber bands dug into your body. You almost felt like you were wearing a harness of sorts. Natasha slipped inside the fitting room, taking in the sight of you, a small, affectionate smile on her face.

“Oh wow, that is so pretty. You like it?” She asked, sounding like she couldn’t quite get a hold of her excitement. Naturally, because of her childhood conditions, she had never gotten the chance to experience any of it herself, so you simply had to forgive her for putting you in such an embarrassing situation.

“It’s okay”, you hummed.

“I’m going to touch you now, okay? Just testing the support”, she informed, waiting to get a nod from you before her fingers slid under the clasp of the bra to stretch it away from your back a bit. “That doesn’t feel too tight, does it?” She asked, frowning a bit, her eyes shifting to the mirror to see your face.

“It’s a little tight, yeah.” It was really tight, too tight. “It hurts a bit”, you admitted.

“How about the cups? Turn around, honey.” She spun you around, tilting her head a bit to catch your gaze. “Are you okay, myshka (little mouse)?” She asked with a frown after seeing your very minimal excitement. You nodded. “Are you sure?”

“I just feel a little awkward.” You chuckled quietly in an attempt to ease her worries. “Mom, it’s fine. I promise”, you assured her, leaning your face into her hand when she cupped your cheek.

“We’ll make it fun, okay? You’ll get to pick exactly what you want as long as we make sure it fits right because a poorly fitting bra is not only uncomfortable, but it makes the girls look bad”, she said with a little smirk. You laughed at the way she gestured towards her chest. “You’ll only have to do this once. In the future you’ll know how a bra is supposed to fit, you’ll know your size, and you can do this all by yourself”, she assured you, trying to make you feel better, her features soft and encouraging. “Or if you would rather have the worker do this, I can ask her help.”

“Oh, god no!”

“I thought so.” She chuckled in understanding, amused by your horrified expression, her attention shifting back to your bra. “Alright. If the straps dig into your shoulders, the band here is not tight enough to support you”, she explained, her hands tugging on it a bit. “The cups should be a perfect fit. No overflow and no gaps, yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, watching how she tugged the shoulder straps a bit to see how the bra fit.

“See? This is too big for you”, she pointed out, her fingers pinching the edges of the cups to tug them up a bit in an attempt to fill the gap that formed between your breast and the bra.

Natasha checked the size of the bra, going back to the assortment of lingerie that had been hung onto the hook on the wall. She browsed through them, finding a smaller cup and a bigger band measurement, pulling out an ugly grandma bra. Natasha caught the small scrunch of your nose, immediately assuring you that you were only trying out the size and not the model. The design and color were both awful but you put it on obediently, trusting that your mother knew what she was doing. You tried on at least a gazillion bras until you found your desired size and fit, finally feeling some excitement as Natasha paid for the lingerie and you hurried out of the store, no longer sweaty and uncomfortable, a sense of accomplishment and relief bringing a bit more pep into your step.

“Any other stores you want to go to?” Natasha asked, your face lighting up in excitement. You immediately had a few in mind.

“Can I get anything I want?” You asked, once again giving her puppy eyes, even though they rarely worked because she was the master of manipulation after all.

“We’ll see what idiocy you come up with”, she mumbled with a soft roll of her eyes.

You went to the jewelry store and somehow got Natasha to buy you a piece that was a little bit more on the expensive side. You thought she had agreed to it because of your thorough reasoning of why the necklace went so perfectly with every outfit you owned, but in reality Natasha had bought it simply because she felt like spoiling you. She wanted you to feel good and confident, and she had the money for it, so she saw no reason as to why she should deny you the luxury of having new, expensive jewelry. She also bought herself some silver earrings that were so pretty that you considered maybe borrowing them someday. The jewelry store was followed by a visit to a flower shop, Natasha deciding that it was only fair for you to get the tiny cactus you whined after for ten minutes because she got herself a huge plant to put into the living room, and she happened to be a fan of equality. She knew you were most likely going to kill it by accident, but you were just so cute with your round eyes that shone with excitement and the happy, little squeal you always did when she would finally relent and say yes to you. How could she ever resist you?

The third store you dragged her into was the pet store where you headed right to the cat food aisles to find more tasty treats for Liho who was rapidly running out of tuna bites. Natasha let you do your thing, wandering away from you as you tried to choose between chicken-liver meat sticks and crunchy tuna-pumpkin treats. She ended up on an aisle full of cat beds, her hand running along the silky fabric of each cozy bed that sat on the shelf. There were all kinds of fun designs from shark mouths to igloos with cat ears, a smile finding her face at the mental image of Liho nuzzling itself into the soft fabric, or hiding away in a small cat house. She made her way to the very end of the aisle, glancing back to see how you were doing with your decision making. Clearly the matter was graver than Sophie’s Choice, the comical sight of your small frown making Natasha roll her eyes gently. They were just cat treats, it couldn’t have been that serious, yet you continued to read the backs of the packages to figure out which treat was the best treat for your lovely fur-friend. She was just about to turn around to head back to you when her hand touched a bed with the smoothest, fluffiest faux fur she had probably ever touched in her life. She halted in her footsteps, backtracking to where her hand was touching a wine red mini couch that was meant to be a cat bed. Natasha stared at it in mild awe, mesmerized by how perfectly adorable the small piece of furniture was. She got a bit closer to it, bringing both of her hands to the cushions to smooth over them. Oh, it was perfect. It was so perfect. Natasha tried to look less like she was drooling over the cat bed, but she could not let go of it. She could not. It matched perfectly with Liho’s red collar, it was soft and fluffy, it was adorable, and would surely look amazing in your living room. She wanted the bed whether anyone else did.

“Mom, I’m getting the tuna-pumpkin bites”, you announced as if she would’ve needed you to disclose such unimportant information, but you did so anyway, most likely out of habit. When she didn’t respond, you walked over to her, finding her and the red couch.

“Do you think Liho would need this?” Natasha asked earnestly, a wide smile spreading onto your lips. Natasha had never wanted to buy a single thing for Liho, never mind something that the cat didn’t even need.

“She already has a bed.” You looked at the couch, seeing the appeal very clearly. It was more than elegant.

“She would probably like this.” It was like Natasha hadn’t even heard you.

“Liho or you?” You smirked, your amusem*nt very obvious from your tone.

“I think I’m getting it. Look how cute”, she rambled on, her fingers scratching the material of the cushions. “I’m getting it.”

“You’re getting a bed for Liho?” You asked in disbelief, Natasha’s head turning to your direction. The look on her face changed as if she had just realized that she had forgotten to hate the cat for a moment. You had a sh*t-eating grin on your lips as she tried to somehow hide the fact that Liho was on her mind.

“It’s room decor”, she said indifferently, yanking the eighty-five-dollar couch off the shelf and heading to the cashier.

A half hour later you found yourselves in a few clothing stores that you came across while walking through the mall. You got yourself a new pair of pants for school and new hand wraps for boxing. After that you sat in the fitting room with your head leaning against the wall, a bored look on your face as Natasha tried on a thousand dresses, and asked which ones you liked. She spun around in her short black dress and red heels, asking you if you thought it was too short or too plain or too boring or anything else she might have come up with. You wondered what the dress was for. Maybe she wanted a new one to wear for those dinners she went to every once in a while, those random dates that you couldn’t figure out. You knew Natasha wasn’t one to date and she always said that you were more than enough to fulfill her life, but you couldn’t help but wonder if she ever longed for the attention of a man. If she would have wanted you to have a father. You really wanted her to be happy with all your heart and you surely knew she wasn’t lonely. You had a huge family and lots of friends at the compound, but the dress made you wonder.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Natasha asked in mild amusem*nt as she pulled off the black dress to reveal her soft curves and pale skin.

“Nothing.” You averted your gaze, kicking her shoe that was just in your reach on the floor.

“Come on, I know that look.” Her tone was certain, encouraging, yet she was careful not to pester you too much in case you didn’t want to share.

“Do you want a man?” You asked quite bluntly. “Are you seeing someone?” Natasha chuckled at your words.

“No, honey, I don’t. I’m not seeing a man.” She hung the dress up on a hanger, choosing another one to try on instead.

“A woman then?” You persisted, Natasha skillfully hiding her surprise as she stepped through the piece of clothing to pull it on. You had never spoken about Natasha’s love life. It simply didn’t exist to you, and she had never entertained the idea of you having another parent, which was exactly why your observation caught her off guard.

“Not a woman either”, she hummed. She had from a very young age taught you that attraction was attraction and it didn’t matter who anyone liked because it was none of your business unless the other person was willing to share. You didn’t specifically know she liked women because you had never questioned it that much, nor did you stay and ponder it any further because it simply wasn’t that big of a deal. “I’m single and planning to stay that way”, she assured you.

“What about the dinners you always go to?” You asked eagerly, wanting to know more, Natasha momentarily struggling to find a response. She didn’t want to have that conversation in a random fitting room at the mall.

“They’re just friends, honey.” Her response was rather dismissing, earning a confused frown from you.

“Then what’s the dress for?”

“An undercover mission.” And the conversation ended just as quickly as it had begun. You knew you couldn’t ask about it any more than that because her missions were always classified. “Are you seeing someone?” Natasha asked with a raised brow, immediately getting you flustered. You weren’t, but you couldn’t lie about how much you had been thinking about it lately. You wanted to know what it was like, wanted to know what the fuss was about.

“No!” You laughed awkwardly, shaking your head, your cheeks warming up at the thought. You didn’t know why it felt so embarrassing to talk about romantic feelings. It was all so silly. “I don’t even like anyone.”

“You’ll tell me when you are though, won’t you?” You nodded your head.

“Are you ready now? I want ice cream”, you informed her, wanting to change the subject as soon as possible, and leave the fitting rooms.

You got a serving of three ice cream scoops, sharing the cup by occasionally sliding the dish across the small table between you as you just leaned your chin into the palm of your hand, trying not to seem as tired as you were because you were hoping to watch a movie with her once you got home and had done your homework. Your plan might’ve failed on the elevator when you just couldn’t help the yawn you let out as you leaned into her for support, so perfectly content with the way she wrapped you in a hug despite the shopping bags hanging from her forearms. You whined quietly, snuggling into her for comfort, Natasha chuckling at your childishness that was completely age-appropriate in her opinion because she understood the feeling. She kissed the top of your head, sighing once she heard the elevator ding.

“We’ll soon be home, baby”, she mumbled into your hair, nudging you towards the opening doors. You trudged to the car, sinking into the passenger side seat as Natasha put the assortment of paper bags into the trunk before joining you.

”I call DJ!” You grabbed Natasha’s phone the second she set it down on the console box in the middle, tapping in her passcode to find the music app, searching through her library to find your latest collection of favorite songs. You chose something that was a bit less energetic to match the calmness of the night. It wasn’t that late yet, but the weekday guaranteed you little to no traffic and relatively empty streets that allowed you to get home without any further delays.

You nearly fell asleep in the car to the sound of a gentle piano and a female singer who you and Natasha both loved dearly. The soothing hum of the highway was only lulling you deeper into a state of relaxation, your mind slowly starting to shut down, Natasha’s mouth curving into an adoring smile. She saw the little girl in you, she could still see it so vividly, no matter how much your maturing exterior tried to conceal it. She still recognized the slight pout of your lips whenever you slept, the flutter of your lashes, the features you had carried on you ever since you were a baby. She turned the music down a bit to avoid disturbing you as she drove, mentally going over the fun day she had spent with you, experiencing an assortment of mixed feelings. She felt an overwhelming sense of longing, paired with fear and panic, like she was about to lose you, like she was running out of time. She knew it was unreasonable to think that way, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like things were changing quicker than she could process them. She missed you even though you were right there and the day had been more than perfect. She genuinely enjoyed your company, and she couldn’t wait to meet the woman you were slowly becoming, but she struggled to let go of that little girl, that little girl who she had held for hours on end in the silence of disrupted nights, who she had always fought for from the very beginning, who she had rescued from a fate all too cruel. She was torn between two, the juxtaposition of happiness and despair bringing a melancholy, yet peaceful atmosphere into the car.

You blinked your eyes open when the whir of the engine was turned off, pure silence swallowing you whole for just a moment as you teetered on the verge of sleep. You nearly flinched awake when Natasha’s hand slid to your thigh to shake you awake. You gave her a drowsy look as you slowly started to get up from your seat, dragging yourself home and diligently straight to the dining table to do your homework. You flung your backpack onto the counter, yanking out school books and your pencil case, not far from bursting into tears as you stared at the work you were to complete. Natasha eventually joined you after putting away most of what you had brought home from the mall. She sat on a chair beside you, her hand rubbing across your back in a random gesture of affection. You glanced at her, very aware of the sheen in your eyes.

“Please, help.” It came out in a whine, a small pathetic whimper that brought an empathetic smile on Natasha’s face before her eyes shifted down to the math homework in front of you. She read the assignment instructions, trying to help you understand what you were meant to solve in the first place, but your brain was simply too tired to try to work out the answer for yourself, and so you resorted to begging for her to solve the problem for you.

“I don’t know!” You were not far from fully sobbing because you felt like your brain was in knots, and somehow nothing made sense.

“Honey, you have the formula right there”, she said gently, pointing at the lines and symbols in the textbook.

“But I already did that, and it didn’t work”, you moaned, flipping your pen around to erase your scribbles off the paper.

“Because you put the numbers in the wrong places. You’re trying to solve the X. You can’t put anything in its place.” Her instructions fell to deaf ears as you wiped your eyes from the tears that threatened to spill. You felt so sensitive, not very fond of the sternness that was slowly starting to creep into her tone. She was getting tired as well.

“It’s math! There’s supposed to be numbers, not letters!”

“Yes, but the X is simply functioning as a placeholder for the number you’re trying to solve.” Natasha sighed quietly, taking the pencil from you to write down the correct formula below the huge smudge on the paper that was the result of angry erasing and constant rewriting of numbers. “Here, look. This is how it’s supposed to look. Then you divide the left side with the number on the right.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“It doesn’t make sense. How do you divide a letter? Instead of a full X I just leave out one of the four branches?”

“Y/N”, Natasha chastised softly, clearly fed up with your sarcasm.

“I don’t get it!” The commotion you were both making gained the attention of a certain furry friend, who sauntered silently to the kitchen table and took a seat beside your pencil case.

“Look, even Liho’s had enough”, Natasha muttered in annoyance. “It really is not that complicated. You just refuse to listen to reason.” You glared at her, Liho letting out a small mewl.

“Oh, so now you’re both against me?” You pointed your finger between them. “You two? Real nice pairing.” You wiped your eyes once more. “I’m done”, you huffed, standing up from the table, giving Natasha one more glare before getting up and going into your bedroom to get ready for bed. She merely sighed in a rather comedic way, giving Liho a look and a shake of her head as if to say “what am I going to do with her”.

You took your new stuff out of their paper bags, putting the items into their rightful places. The bras you left on your bed, admiring them with a small smile. You liked the ones you had chosen. Natasha had let you pick out three different ones: nude, black and something fun. The black one was a very basic t-shirt bra, but it was without a doubt the most comfortable out of all the ones you had tried on. The nude one matched fairly well with your skin tone and it was decorated with a tiny bow in the middle and some lace on the edges of the cups. The final one was a soft pink with darker hearts all over it, and looked like it was straight out of a 2000s teenage movie, which was exactly the reason you had wanted it. The bra made you feel like a real teen, like the coolest girl in your class. Additionally, as a surprise Natasha had let you get bottoms to create matching sets, and you just felt so adult. You remembered seeing her lingerie sets, her pretty thongs or lacy bralettes and you found yourself to be excited at the thought of becoming more like her, more like an adult, the depressing thoughts from the previous day having faded into oblivion.

You showered quickly, getting into your pajama bottoms and a tank top before returning into the kitchen to grab a snack Natasha had prepared for you and left on the kitchen counter before going into the living room where she was setting up Liho’s new bunk. The sight made you grin brightly, a flush of amusem*nt warming you up from the inside as you watched Liho sniff the bed tentatively, Natasha’s hand patting the cushions in an attempt to get the cat to trust it.

“I’m sure she loves it. She just needs a bit more time to get used to it”, you said comfortingly, wanting to somehow show your support to Natasha. You were more than impressed with her sudden desire to buy unnecessary things for Liho. It showed that she cared, no matter how she tried to act like she didn’t.

“You think so?” Natasha turned to look at you, her face holding a twinge of hope behind the sad frown that made her look so tender and gentle. She thought Liho didn’t like the gift, and what made it even worse was that she had been so excited about it.

“I know so.” You chuckled quietly as you plopped down onto the couch with your late night snack. “Just give her some time”, you reasoned, your eyes shifting to the TV screen, prompting Natasha to join you. She pulled a blanket from the armrest of the couch, covering the bottom half of her silky nightgown with it before grabbing her large mug of tea to hold. You took a bite of your yogurt parfait, the blend of fresh peaches, Greek yogurt, and cinnamon-honey granola nothing short of delectable. She made it for you all the time because she knew it to be one of your favorites, especially during late Spring and Summer when fresh fruit started to be more in season again. You ate your food, a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table catching your eye. You smiled widely, reaching for the mug and taking a long swig.

You leaned your head against Natasha’s shoulder as you got comfortable, tugging a part of her blanket over your bare feet to keep them warm. The snack was consumed in less than ten minutes, but you remained on the couch with her, both of you nursing your respective mugs of warm beverages. You switched the channel a few times until you found a sitcom you had watched a couple of times with her. Natasha rarely had objections toward your choice in TV programs. She liked to sit and watch whatever you found interesting. Her only exceptions were Dance Moms and Fox News for reasons you couldn’t understand. Had you put either one on you would have lost your TV remote privileges which is why you tended to steer clear from the programs in questions.

You nodded off a couple of times and probably slept for a good while before you woke up again, utterly shocked to find out that you hadn’t spilled your cocoa all over the couch. You blinked your eyes open, downing the very last of your drink, setting the mug on the coffee table before nuzzling into Natasha’s side. She lifted the blanket a bit and welcomed you into her embrace. You hadn’t meant to fall back asleep, but you simply couldn’t keep your eyes on the bright screen, the characters swimming in and out of your focus, the laugh track blending in with your thoughts until you heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing. You huffed quietly, subconsciously burrowing closer to her, your arm moving slightly as if to hug her. Natasha brushed her fingers over your forehead, moving aside some of your baby hairs, her lips finding the uncovered spot in a gentle kiss. Natasha’s mind was racing a mile a minute as she observed your sleeping form, silently tracing your features with the pads of her fingers, petting the slope of your nose. It was downright cruel how fast you were growing up and it pained her that you were slowly needing her less and less, your question from the fitting room coming back into her conscious mind. Soon you would have your own life entirely and Natasha would only be a fraction of it. Who would fill that huge void?

“Please never stop being my baby”, she whispered, sniffling quietly, squeezing you carefully as she rested the side of her head against the top of your own, her gaze landing on Liho who slept soundly on the small, wine red couch. She didn’t even try to swallow down the smile that stretched onto her lips. Liho liked the bed.

Chapter 43: Growing pains

Chapter Text

“Mom, why do people have sex?” You asked nonchalantly, dragging your pen over your textbook as you looked for an answer to your homework. Natasha’s hand on the kitchen counter halted in the middle of her wiping off bread crumbs, a brief silence taking over as she prepared herself for the direction your question was indicating.

“Because it feels good and it’s a way to show romantic love to another”, she explained concisely, not entirely pleased with the topic of conversation.

“Good how?” You continued, frowning softly as you tried to figure out what she meant.

“It makes your body feel good”, she replied evenly, turning around to see you, her lower back resting against the edge of the counter.

“Yeah, but how?” You persisted, Natasha feeling speechless. She loved that you were comfortable enough to ask such important questions and was even proud of herself for succeeding in building a healthy, trustful relationship between you two, but she couldn’t help the discomfort she was experiencing. She wasn’t at all prepared to come up with educational answers right on the spot.

“By touch”, she hummed, watching you try to work it out in your head. You knew what sex was, but it was clearly difficult for you to truly grasp the idea of what it actually entailed, Natasha more than glad that you were still oblivious enough to maintain your innocence.

“What does it feel like?” You questioned, attempting to compare the idea to anything you had ever felt in your life. Natasha’s mind blanked as she tried to come up with a child-appropriate explanation for you, but after a moment of racking her brain she gave in.

“You’ll find out when the time is right”, she assured you.

“Have you had sex?” Natasha groaned internally, wondering what was in the air that day for you to be asking so many questions regarding sexual intimacy.

“Yes, I’ve… done it”, she replied a little hesitantly, not too fond of sharing anything about her sex life with you.

“With who?” The questions truly were never ending, it seemed, Natasha searching for words to form actual, comprehensible sentences in order to respond to you. Most of her sexual partners had been meaningless, simply a way to make ends meet, very few had left a good taste in her mouth and far too many had “done it” without her consent. There was someone who had meant more to her, who had made her feel, but she was long gone, someone who Natasha didn’t want to bring up to the surface again.

“With someone from my past”, she said vaguely, hoping you would accept the answer to your question.

“Could I have sex?” You inquired, a horrified grimace overtaking Natasha’s face before she got the chance to school her features.

“Maybe later in life”, she replied, your eyes rising up to meet her own. “It’s not something that children should do. It can be very dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. You could really hurt someone or vice versa”, she explained, a soft pout falling on your lips.

“Is it scary?” You asked quietly, Natasha’s features softening.

“No, honey, it shouldn’t be scary if you’re doing it with the right person, but you’re too young to even be worrying about something like this”, she said soothingly, walking over to you, her hand brushing over your hair before she took a seat beside you. “Is there a specific reason you’re asking?”

“No, I was just wondering why it’s such a big deal”, you hummed, scribbling something down into your notebook.

“It’s a beautiful thing when it’s done right. It’s a way to connect with another person in the most intimate and vulnerable way, which is why it’s so easy to take advantage of. It can be weaponized and used as a way to hurt and hold power over someone.” As harsh as her words sounded, Natasha found it incredibly important for you to know that sex wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, but actually held a very real sense of danger that could damage a person severely. She herself had grown up with a very messed up sense of sexuality, her body and looks having been used to take advantage of people. Her sexuality had been weaponized to be something that only others could enjoy, creating a sense of self-hatred and disgust regarding her own body and pleasure. There was a very good reason why Natasha so desperately wanted you to have a healthy relationship with yourself and your sexuality, wishing to teach you to see it as something empowering, something that belonged to you and something that you deserved.

“Why would someone do that?” You frowned, glancing at her.

“I don’t know, myshka (little mouse). The world is a f*cked up place”, she hummed, pursing her lips into a slight pout as the silence stretched.

“Did- did someone do that to you?” You asked tentatively, your head down, avoiding her gaze. You didn’t know why you asked the question, but it was too late to take it back. Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the control over her emotions start to slip away. She couldn’t understand why it suddenly hurt so much, her heartbeat picking up at the bit of distress she felt as she inhaled deeply.

“Why do you ask?” She countered in an attempt to avoid answering you.

“You’re uncomfortable. I can tell”, you whispered, finally daring to raise your gaze up to her face. “You’re worried”, you stated evenly, Natasha taken aback by how observant you were becoming, not used to having around someone that truly knew her, someone who could see through her poker face. She had made sure not to give it away, to keep her features void of any reaction, but somehow your thirteen-year-old brain had managed to find a way past her defenses.

“Yes, it’s happened to me”, she mumbled, your hand finding her own on the tabletop. She offered you a small smile at the squeeze you gave her, rubbing her lips together in thought. “I don’t mean to scare you in any way, I’m just trying to keep you safe”, she added quietly, co*cking her head slightly, smiling softly through her tears. You reached over the table, your hand wiping away the lone tear that rolled down her cheek, a sorrowful pout on your lips.

“I know”, you assured her, sniffling quietly as you thought about the pain your mother had gone through, feeling a sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. You were starting to see her past, her character, in a completely different way the more you learned about the world, the more you learned about taking other people and their feelings into consideration. She was no longer just your mother, but a person, a woman with three times the life-experience you had.

“You just make sure that whenever you do it, you do it with someone you trust and love. That way it’ll be fun and it’ll be so worth it.” She smiled a bit wider to see you return the gesture. “I know I can be a bit grave sometimes, but don’t let it scare you. I’m really glad that you’re able to bring this stuff up and are brave enough to ask me about things that are on your mind”, she reminded you, bringing your hand to her lips to place a kiss over your knuckles. “Did you have any more questions?” You seemed to contemplate your answer for a moment before speaking up.

“What’s sixty-nine and why is it so special?” Oh god, there you were again, asking the most important questions, Natasha chuckling softly.

“Um, it refers to a sex position”, she hummed, not even trying to hide her smile. Everything about the interaction was rather comical in her eyes, from your small frown to your determination to understand the world around you.

“What makes it so special and why sixty-nine? Why not ten or thirty-five?” You frowned, seeming a bit embarrassed for not being in the know, Natasha sensing the occurrence of a specific incident where the term had come up. “Everyone at school was laughing when the answer to our math problem was seventy-one dollars and sixty-nine cents, and I don’t get it”, you said with a slight pout. “I didn’t want anyone to know that I didn’t get it, so I didn’t ask”, you explained, having felt left out in class, clueless over what was so funny about a number that held no specific significance to you but seemed to do so to everyone else. You had heard the expression before, heard multiple jokes about it, seen how everyone laughed at the term you didn’t seem to understand. Somehow, everyone just suddenly knew, and you didn’t, which had caused you to laugh along with others to conform to their behavior, but on the inside it bothered you that you didn’t know what you were laughing about.

“It’s not the number itself, but rather what the shape of it looks like. It’s pretty dumb.” She chuckled, rubbing her hand over her brow in a random gesture to distract you from her smile.

“But I don’t see it. I don’t get it”, you whined, laughing a little because you saw the amusem*nt on Natasha’s face.

“Are you sure you want to know? You might think it’s gross”, she warned you, noting the wary look on your face, but eventually curiosity got the best of you and you nodded your head, prompting her to explain. “Alright”, she hummed, grabbing your notebook, her left hand picking out a pencil from your pencil case, drawing the number on paper for you to see. “This is the head and that’s the body of a person, and they’re having sex so that they can give and receive at the same time.” She pointed at the shapes with the tip of the pencil, biting back her laughter at your disturbed expression.

“You mean people put their mouths down there?” You asked in genuine horror, unable to believe your ears, your eyes wide as you looked at your mother as if to confirm that she had meant to say what she did.

“Yes, that’s called oral sex”, she continued, a disgusted groan coming from you as you looked at her.

“Ew! That’s so stupid. Why would anyone do that?” You bemoaned, unable to comprehend the reason behind such a practice. “That’s where pee and poo come from!” You whined desperately, Natasha laughing discreetly into the palm of her hand, finding your reaction not only hilarious, but comically adorable, glad to know that sex was not in the cards for you anywhere in the near future.

“I told you it’s gross”, she chuckled, earning a frown from you.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think that gross”, you grumbled. “Besides I still don’t get the joke.”

“Honey, I don’t either. It’s just something immature people say”, she assured you, her hand cupping your cheek affectionately.

“People are so stupid”, you huffed, focusing back on your homework, Natasha using the rubber at the other end of the pencil to erase the number on the paper.

“That’s my girl.” She chuckled quietly, patting your back as she got up from the table. “People are indeed stupid”, she echoed.

“Mom.” You glanced up at her briefly, digging up a bunch of papers from underneath your book as if you had been meaning to get to it at some point during your small conversation. “Will you listen to my presentation again? It has to be perfect for tomorrow.” Natasha halted at your words, coming back to your side, her eyes landing on a stack of handwritten notes, the corners crumpled up from how many times you had gone through them. You gave her a pleading look, Natasha’s features softening almost visibly.

“Of course, dushenka (sweetheart)”, she assured you immediately even though she had heard your upcoming presentation nearly a dozen times and she probably knew it better than you did, but she would never deny you the comfort of practicing it over and over again with her. “Go get your laptop. I’ll wait in the living room”, she hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before going to sit on the couch. You soon joined her and Liho, already starting up your computer to get the slides ready, Natasha waiting patiently, using Liho as a distraction by giving it chin scratches. You walked in front of them, placing the laptop onto the coffee table so it could project the hologram screen for Natasha.

“Okay, ready?” You asked hopefully, adjusting your standing position in front of her, clearly a little nervous. You were decent at school, possessing a rather neutral attitude toward it. You didn’t love it but you didn’t hate it either. You got good grades and put in the effort, but it wasn’t the end of the world if you didn’t get all As. But the presentation in question happened to be rather large and important for your final grade which made you want to prepare for it a bit more thoroughly since it was supposed to replace your end of the year exam in biology. Additionally, the thought of having to actually know what you were talking about in front of the whole class motivated you to learn about your topic a bit more thoroughly.

“We’re ready, milaya (honey). You got this”, she said encouragingly, giving you small thumbs up that made you smile, Liho pushing its nose into Natasha’s hair as it stood on the back of the couch, asking for more scratches. She glared at the cat, pushing it away a bit, but the action only seemed to aggravate Liho a little more, its snout connecting with Natasha’s temple in a rather persistent manner.

“Alright, today I’m gonna talk to you about photosynthesis”, you began, changing your voice to be a bit more formal which always made Natasha’s heart clench from how grown up you sounded. She could already see you in various different occupations where you would talk in that knowing, confident voice of yours. She felt so proud, but at the same time she felt wistful for noticing all the ways in which you were growing up. You no longer sounded like a child, although you didn’t sound exactly like an adult either, but the change was enough to raise the feeling of melancholy in Natasha. You were growing up. You were taller than before, and no longer looked like a scrawny little kid with your muscles that were a result of your intense training schedule. She listened to your presentation, nodding along with just as much enthusiasm as the first time despite having heard the same exact sentences multiple times before. She knew you sought for her validation, and she knew her opinion mattered infinitely more than anyone else’s, which was why she had no problem giving you exactly what you needed. She wanted you to know just how proud she was of you, in fact, she needed you to know, finding it more than crucial because she knew how much effect it had on your self-esteem and confidence.

“Here you can see a picture that demonstrates this phenomenon”, you said, pointing at the hologram screen, noting the smile on Natasha’s face as she looked at the same photo she had seen far too many times. She had even helped you pick it out from among all the other pictures you could have used. It made you smile. She looked so intrigued. “Mom”, you chuckled. “You don’t have to act interested.”

“I’m not acting”, she countered immediately, a look of disbelief on her face. “I love photosynthesis”, she reasoned, earning another laugh from you. “I love anything you wanna tell me”, she added in assurance, making you roll your eyes, but you felt warm all over for getting her praise and acceptance. You switched the slide, continuing your presentation, going more in depth about how plants absorb carbon dioxide from the air. You truly appreciated Natasha’s support, finding her encouraging thumbs-ups whenever you expressed yourself exceptionally well rather endearing. You barely needed your handwritten notes anymore, reciting the lines you had been practicing for the past two weeks with relative ease, occasionally glancing down to find more confidence and comfort from your notes, but overall you did very well, your presentation flowing rather naturally through its course. “That concludes my presentation on the phenomenon of photosynthesis. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask”, you stated as if you would have actually been in your classroom. You saw the smirk on Natasha’s face as she raised her hand, making you groan.

“Mommm, no questions”, you whined, feeling too tired from all the homework you had already done. She chuckled softly.

“Just one this time”, she pleaded, making you sigh as you gave in. “Thank you, darling. My question to you is: How awesome are you?” The tone she used made it more than clear to you how impressed she was with you, her enthusiasm making you chuckle, your cheeks warming up a bit.

“So awesome”, you muttered, feeling a little shy, Natasha arching her brow at you.

“What was that?”

“So awesome”, you said a little louder, grinning widely.

“That’s right. You’re so awesome. You’re gonna do a wonderful job tomorrow”, she stated confidently, getting up from the couch to give you a double high-five.

“You think so?” You asked, still feeling a little hesitant, but Natasha simply smiled at you, pulling you right into her arms.

“I know so, myshka (little mouse)”, she muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head.

She was right, of course. Your presentation went very well and your teacher seemed to like both your slides as well as the information you provided, and one of the kids even told you that they thought your presentation was cool. You were on cloud nine when Natasha came to pick you up after school, feeling like you had accomplished something, like you were academically talented, maybe even a science prodigy. You hurried across the front lawn to Natasha’s sports car of the week that happened to be Tony’s Blue Bugatti Divo. It must have been her way of spicing up the daily rides she had to make to your school. You yanked the door open, buckling yourself up with a huge grin on your face.

“Mom, I have a crush!” You squealed, waiting for her to be just as excited as you were, but her smile was slightly hesitant.

“You do? What about your presentation?” She asked, sounding bummed out. She was so excited to hear how it had gone.

“It went so well. Anyways, his name is Avery”, you announced, Natasha raising her brow at you.

“He?” Natasha’s tone was one of disbelief. Well, that was definitely something she hadn’t seen coming. He? No, there was no way.

“Yes, he’s in my class”, you explained, not really recognizing the tone behind her question. “He’s got blonde hair and… blue eyes, I think”, you mumbled, trying to recall what you had heard other kids say about their crushes. “He’s so… cool”, you continued, clearly searching for the right words, remembering that being humorous was a very valued trait. “And so funny.”

“Mhm”, Natasha nodded along. She knew the boy. She knew every kid in your class because she was nosy and she needed to know everything essential about the people you were surrounded by. She had seen him and she knew he was far from the type of kids you got along with. “Is he nice?”

“I think”, you mused. “We haven’t talked yet”, you explained, Natasha feeling a twinge of sadness in her stomach. You were faking a crush, pretending to belong when you so clearly didn’t. “Or I said ‘thanks’ to him today after he told me my presentation was cool”, you muttered as an afterthought. “But once I go talk to him we can go on double dates with Makena and Darren.” You were so young, far too young to be thinking about double dates. It almost sounded outlandish to hear you talk about such things. It didn’t make any sense to her, Natasha unsure if she should intervene or not. On the one hand she could see that nothing about your words was authentic, but on the other hand she didn’t want to invalidate your need to fit in.

“Make sure you know him before you get into any kind of relationships”, she reminded you in all seriousness. “Don’t jump into anything just because you want a certain status”, she warned.

“It’s not because of that”, you sneered, displeased that she saw through you.

“I know, dushenka (sweetheart). I’m just saying”, she appeased gently. “If you’re going to start dating you need to know the basics”, she stated, watching you sigh in annoyance. “I want you to be safe. Maybe it’s time for the talk”, she mused, knowing you were going to hate it, hoping that it would steer you away from your fake crush.

“What talk?”

“Sex talk, so that you don’t do anything stupid”, she hummed, her eyes remaining in the road as she tried to figure out the best approach to your predicament.

“Oh my god, mom, ew!” You cringed harshly, burying your face into your hands, Natasha smirking to herself. “Please, don’t.”

“Exactly. Don’t rush it, baby. You’re still far too young for this stuff. I don’t care what others are doing or how many crushes they’ve had, but if you don’t have a real crush on anyone, please don’t force it”, she reasoned, glancing your way to emphasize her words.

“My crush is real”, you countered in defense.

“I’m not saying it isn’t”, Natasha assured you immediately. “I just want to make sure you know that it’s okay not to have a crush. You’re still just a child.”

“Yeah, I know, but Avery is really cute.” You were clearly displeased by her reluctance to welcome the news, Natasha resisting the urge to roll her eyes. You didn’t even believe yourself, your desperate tone as you tried to convince yourself of your fake feelings selling out your lie.

“Okay. That he might be, but what about the presentation, honey? I wanna know all about it”, she prompted, trying to steer the conversation into another direction, glancing your way briefly before her eyes went back to the cars she was speeding by.

“Oh, yeah. It was good. I was a little nervous, but it ended up being okay. The teacher said I had very good slides. She liked the pictures and said I didn’t have too much text which she said is really good cause it makes the slides easier to read”, you explained, Natasha feeling proud of your success, her mood improving immediately. “Avery really likes photosynthesis… I think. Or maybe biology. Either way he likes me”, you continued, Natasha pressing her foot down on the gas pedal, trying her best not to let her annoyance shine through. You had completely glossed over the most important part of your day, the highlight of your week, all because of a boy.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, I’m just guessing, but I mean it’s obvious. He was looking at me the whole presentation”, you reasoned, Natasha nearly letting out a heavy sigh. Of course he had been looking at you, you were presenting. Normally she wouldn’t have been so sensitive about crushes and whatnot, but she could see right through you. It was painfully obvious to her that you were talking about him for all the wrong reasons, looking for validation from places you were never going to receive it. She felt frustrated by your behavior because she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Maybe you did feel something for him and she was wrong. In that case, she would never want to make you feel like you didn’t have her full support when it came to your emotions. But then again, maybe you didn’t, and maybe you were desperately trying to be like the rest of the girls around you because you couldn’t find a single person who could relate to you. Deciding not to intervene just yet, Natasha allowed you to talk about him in an affectionate manner despite how forced it sounded to her ear, wanting to gain a bit more perspective before doing anything about your little crush, hoping you would give up the act sooner or later. But to her dismay, you wouldn’t shut up about Avery, bringing him up every other moment to ponder your feelings for him. Since you didn’t drop the subject on your own by nighttime Natasha eventually settled on confronting you about your delusions. She entered your room and sat on the edge of your bed, offering you a small smile as you put down your phone.

“We need to talk”, Natasha announced, a grimace forming on your face.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna give me the talk”, you pleaded, making her smile.

“No”, she chuckled. “No, but I wanted to talk to you about Avery.” You nodded at her words, urging her to go on. “Do you think there’s another reason you’re so excited about him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Darling, this is all so sudden. Yesterday you wouldn’t have even looked his way”, she pointed out gently, your face forming into a pout as you started to fiddle with Liho’s long tail, the cat curled up in its usual place on your pillows. “What changed?” You seemed hesitant, not sure if you wanted to tell her or not.

“I don’t like anyone like that”, you sighed in defeat. “All the girls. They’re boy-crazy, and all they wanna talk about is their crushes, and actors, and stupid band members. And whenever it’s my turn, I have nothing to say”, you lamented, glancing up at her in mild shame. “They don’t even ask anymore.”

“You made up a crush so you’d be included again”, Natasha deduced, nodding in understanding.

“Yeah”, you muttered, finally letting go of your lie. There was no point in lying to your mother. Rarely did you ever manage to truly convince her of your lies. “They seem to think Avery is cool too so…” You shrugged. “Why not like him?”

“Malyshka (baby)”, Natasha sighed gently. “You can’t force that kind of stuff. If you don’t like him, if you don’t like boys, that’s that. You don’t like them and that’s perfectly okay”, she reasoned, grabbing your hand that was abusing the corner of your duvet. “There’s no telling what the future holds. Maybe you’ll change your mind, maybe not. Be open to it all, but never force it, okay solnishka (sunshine)? Because the second you start to lie to yourself is when you start to lose yourself”, she said solemnly. You nodded. You understood what she meant, but it wasn’t as simple as that. You had been left out time and time again. Something had to be done or you’d end up alone at school.

“But I wanna fit in”, you sighed, feeling your eyes sting with tears.

“What about Makena? Or Trinity and Lottie?” Natasha prompted, unable to really recall the last time you had mentioned your best friend. “Do they only talk boys as well?” You looked ahead. You didn’t even want to talk about Makena anymore.

“Yeah, they do”, you muttered. They didn’t talk about boys all the time, but too much in your opinion, finding yourself to be very sensitive about the topic, most likely because you felt like you had been replaced by a boy, at least in Makena and Darren’s case.

“What if you girls tried to hang out together, just the four of you, without any of the other girls? You used to talk about all kinds of things”, she suggested, earning a scowl from you.

“They’re her friends. I can’t just tell them to go away”, you huffed.

“Makena’s?” Natasha frowned. You two were joint at the hip, surely Makena would agree to spend time alone with her closest friends.

“Yeah.” She noted the tone of your voice, feeling a twinge of sadness in her chest. She could tell something had happened and you were very clearly hurt by it.

“Honey, what’s going on with you two?” She asked, patiently waiting for you to keep yourself together enough to be able to answer.

“She’s got new friends. She doesn’t care about me anymore”, you grumbled, blinking away your tears.

“Doesn’t care? What makes you think that?”

“We have nothing to talk about. She just wants to gossip, and talk about celebrities and makeup trends”, you replied quietly, allowing the bitterness you felt to bleed through. “She doesn’t wanna go to the swings during recess with me cause she’d much rather go do her makeup in the girls’ bathroom”, you explained, glancing up at Natasha to see her sad frown. “I should probably get one of those sparkly lip glosses so we’d have something to talk about.”

“No, sweetheart. Remember what I just told you? Don’t force it. Besides, you’re so young. You have all the time in the world to get into makeup, or dating, or whatever. Malyshka (baby), you’re only thirteen”, she reasoned gently.

“But everyone else-“

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing”, she countered softly, squeezing your hand to make you look at her again. “It doesn’t matter”, she reiterated, shaking her head slightly. “You’re growing at your own pace. You’re gonna do what you want to do. Because guess what? You’re not staying a child for the rest of your life, and once you’re all grown up you won’t want to do some of the things you love right now”, she explained, drawing circles into your forearm as she spoke. “So you play with your Barbies, and go to the swing set until you feel comfortable leaving all that behind”, she said quietly, a tender smile on her face.

“Mom”, you groaned in amusem*nt. “I don’t play with Barbies anymore”, you scoffed, as if it was the most ridiculous thing ever. You did play Barbies with Morgan though, so it wasn’t completely true, but you no longer really cared about playing with them by yourself.

“See? You’re growing up just the same as the other girls. You just do it your way and they do it their way”, she hummed, pleased to see you return her smile. “Not everyone grows up the same. I’m sure there’s still a bunch of girls in your class who haven’t gotten their period, or boys who are still short and have high-pitched voices. Some might be mentally more grown than others”, she continued, since it looked like she had your full attention. “Maybe some of you feel ready to think about dating, in my opinion you’re all far too young, but for them it might feel right especially if they have crushes and all that jazz”, she huffed, unable to really grasp the fact that she was talking about fresh teenagers and their dating lives. “But some might not be interested in that in the slightest”, she added, giving you a look as you pursed your lips. “Your time will come, baby girl. You’re so, so young”, she emphasized, earning a chuckle from you.

“You just think that cause you’re so old”, you sneered, earning an offended scoff from Natasha.

“Old? I am far from old”, she countered in disbelief.

“You’re like fifty”, you laughed.

“Fifty?” She gasped. “I am not fifty”, she protested immediately.

“Wait, how old are you again?” You asked in all seriousness, not exactly sure how many years she had been roaming the planet.

“I’m forty-four, thank you very much”, she grumbled, making you laugh again.

“That’s kind of old”, you whispered, looking up at her with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, it is”, she sighed. “I’m a fossil, aren’t I?” She asked in feigned sadness, but the look on her face made you want to crawl into her arms as you slowly realized that she would inevitably keep aging, and someday she would be an old grandma, and that was always followed by death. You hated the image that your mind created, the thought of losing her. You wanted her to be young forever, far, far away from all the horrors of aging. You suddenly felt helpless, crawling closer to her to place your head on her lap, snuggling against her thighs as her hand found your hair to pet.

“You’re not”, you whispered against the material of her pajama pants.

“That’s right. Steve is though”, she added in thought, your laugh muffled by her thigh. “But my point is that you should focus on yourself. Do what you want to do. There’s no rush to grow up because once you’re all grown up there’s no going back.”

“But what about Makena? What if no one wants to be my friend cause I’m growing up too slow”, you mumbled in worry, Natasha frowning at the complexity of your situation. She didn’t quite know what kind of advice was appropriate. She wanted to keep your sense of self in tact but that shouldn’t mean you would have to give up all your friends in the process.

“Maybe there’s some new topics you could find to talk about. You could try to figure out a common ground. I’m sure there’s still lots of things she likes just as much as you do. Are there any singers you both like? Or maybe a TV show?” Natasha tried hopefully, wanting to do her best to help you somehow.

“Yeah, I guess”, you sighed, knowing there were interests you still shared, but her focus always seemed to differ from yours. When you wanted to talk about the plot or obsess over the coolest girl in the show who you desperately wanted to be like, she would find a way to bring up her celebrity crush’s bland personality or even blander looks. “I’ll try”, you mused. “But what if it doesn’t work out and I lose her?”

“Oh, darling. Then it just isn’t meant to be”, she lamented quietly. “Of course, I would never want to lose her. Their entire family means so much to us, but just like with everything else, you can’t force it. Sometimes life takes us onto different paths and there’s nothing we can do about it.” She heard you sniffle as you hid your face against her to seek comfort, her hand finding the back of your head to hold you closer. “But I promise you everything will work out the way it’s supposed to, okay? It’ll be alright, my love”, she assured you immediately. “Who knows, maybe things will even out sooner than you realize”, she said hopefully, rubbing your back in long strokes to soothe you.

“You think so?” You asked in a quiet sob.

“Yes, myshka (little mouse). You’re just in different phases of your lives. I’m sure you’ll find your ways back to each other soon enough”, she hummed, scratching your head affectionately. “She’s your sister, remember?” You let out a watery laugh, nodding your head. “It’s all gonna be okay”, Natasha reiterated as if in thought, as if feeling the need to assure you as much as she possibly could.

“I really hope so”, you mumbled, sniffling again, moving away from her to wipe your nose.

“Me too”, Natasha agreed, her hand coming up to your cheek to dry your tears. You settled down on your bed, your head finding the pillow as you yawned, Liho’s eyes opening at the mild disturbance. “Are you okay here?“ She asked as she started to tuck you in rather automatically. “You don’t want company?”

“I’m okay”, you chuckled. “I might be young, but I’m too old to sleep next to my mom”, you huffed, seeming to find it funny, but to Natasha your comment only brought sorrow, even though in some ways you were right.

“You’ll never be too old”, she whispered, her hand brushing over your hair one more time. You just smiled at her. She leaned down to kiss your forehead, her finger brushing down the slope of your nose. “One more thing before I go.” Natasha looked down at you almost solemnly as her hand continued to caress your features. “Never let a boy determine your academic value, or any value for that matter. You can be more than proud of yourself for all the effort you put into that presentation with or without his validation. You did a wonderful job, and I hope you know that.”

“I know. He’s not even that cool” you said with a small smirk. “I’m way cooler.”

“I know that’s right”, she chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. “You’re the coolest kid in town. You’re my kid after all.” Her words made you laugh, your head leaning into the palm of her hand briefly before she let go of you. “Good night, kroshka (little one)”, she hummed, taking one more look at you before standing up.

“Good night, mom”, you replied, turning onto your side as you snuggled into the sheets, Natasha walking to your door to switch off the lights, exiting your room with a slightly nostalgic feeling because she could barely remember the last time she had tucked you in at all since you had slowly transitioned to the habit of shouting good night to her from somewhere around the apartment before you went to bed. Sometimes, if she was lucky, you would come get a good night’s kiss from her.

Chapter 44: Trip down trauma lane

Chapter Text

You felt weird, uneasy. You felt the way you used to feel during the worst times of your anxiety. You felt like the world was collapsing around you, yet everything was eerily still. You walked into the living room, feeling the coldness of early November creep up your shins in an abnormally prominent way considering the heating had been put on a few weeks prior. Something was about to happen. You could feel it in the air, feel it around you, yet it felt like no one else felt the same, at least until you saw your mother at the kitchen table with her fifth mug of tea, so deep inside her head that you felt nauseous. She stared ahead blankly, barely registering anything around her. She looked the way you felt. Even Liho seemed on edge as it stood vigilantly in the middle of the living room.

“Mom”, you whispered carefully, bringing your hand to her bicep to gain her attention. She flinched as if burned by your touch, turning to look at you in confusion. She frowned, taking in your face as she scanned you from head to toe as if unable to comprehend that you were there at all. She looked empty. “Mom”, you nearly whimpered. You didn’t know what was going on, if there was anything even going on.

“What, honey?” She asked in a much gentler tone than you had expected by the grim look on her face.

“Mommy, something is wrong”, you whispered in distress, afraid of speaking any louder as if careful not to disturb something.

“I know, baby girl”, she hummed, rubbing your arm comfortingly. Her response caught you off-guard. It wasn’t just you. She felt it too. “I-“

A beam of crimson light filled the apartment, wisps of red curling in the air, a suffocating ache consuming you both with an intensity you could barely process. It was everywhere, pure pain, yet not quite there, like it wasn’t your own. You dropped to your knees, the agonizing pain tearing through you without remorse, Natasha’s face forming a grimace as she slid off her seat to come aid you, the pain nearly enough to immobilize her. Your vision blurred, preventing you from seeing properly ahead no matter how you tried to blink your eyes, your surroundings dimming, changing into something else. You were in that dark corridor, that infuriatingly dark hallway that you could only enter in your dreams, cold creeping up your shins as death lurked in the corners, the steady beep of a heart monitor piercing through the stillness of the dark. You burst into tears without even noticing, sobbing in pain. It hurt so much. It hurt, it hurt.

“Mommy”, you cried, somewhere in the back of your mind recognizing how childish and pathetic you sounded, but you couldn’t handle any of it. The feeling was unbearable. Natasha pulled you closer, panting through her nose as she gritted her teeth, clearly in pain as well. She brought you into her embrace as if to protect you even though she was completely powerless against the invisible force that invaded your bodies and minds. You groped the air, seeing nothing, searching for her, your hands finding her arms in the darkness that was only visible to you. She was there, you knew she was, but you couldn’t see her, you could barely even feel her. The pain lingered for what felt like endless minutes even though in reality the sensation had disappeared almost as fast as it had appeared, but it took you both a good moment to collect yourselves enough to be able to speak. “What was that?” You were in shock, trying your best to process the events as Natasha hugged you to her chest with such strength that it scared you. She was incoherent, eyes vacant, something that you never saw in your mother, ever, and that scared you.

“Wanda”, Natasha whispered, her mind flashing with the familiar sensation of an intruding presence in her mind that brought forward memories that she had kept tightly locked away. She felt nauseous, not only from the suppressed memories, but also from the wave of physical pain she had endured. “Something’s wrong”, she added as an afterthought, glancing at the door, her eyes giving away her intentions before she could voice them out to you. “I have to go check on her”, Natasha said breathily, standing up from the kitchen floor.

“Can I come too?” You asked hopefully, using Natasha’s hands to help yourself upright. She looked like she was about to say no, but after a moment of contemplation she came to the conclusion that you were the safest when you were with her. She nodded. You hurried out of the apartment together, heading for the communal spaces out of habit, hoping to find an explanation for what you had experienced, and by the looks of it all, others had had the same idea. The grimness that filled the air was almost palpable, everyone’s worst memories at the very forefront of their minds. You held onto your mother’s hand, fidgeting with her fingers as your mind flashed with images of the dark hallways that would probably never stop plaguing you. Your heart thudded in your chest even though there was no imminent danger present. You could feel an anxiety attack building in the pit of your stomach, your entire body on edge, the cold continuing to crawl up your arms and legs, making your head feel too light on your shoulders.

“Mom”, you whispered, clutching her hand tightly, your nails digging into her skin. “Mama, I feel nauseous”, you moaned, Natasha bringing you into her embrace as her gaze met Tony’s. He was in no better shape than the rest of you, clearly on the verge of panic, Steve and Clint wearing similar sullen looks on their faces. Natasha’s hand found the back of your head, fingers sinking into your hair to hold you close, her lips kissing the side of your head.

“Take deep breaths, baby”, she hummed in a low voice, struggling to stay focused as her own trauma demanded her undivided attention, her gut churning with memories of various killings she had completed in her lifetime, however those were the easiest to push aside. The depth of Natasha’s trauma was so gruesome and painful that she knew she wouldn’t be able to rise back to the surface if it got a hold of her. She was more than aware of the darkness that she was a product of. She knew what she had done, how much pain she had caused in her lifetime, but her own pain haunted her more than the pain that she had inflicted upon others, which often created a sense of conflict within her. She felt guilty for resenting her past because she felt like she deserved every ounce of agony that she had suffered. She had no right to be upset about her upbringing when she had always deserved what she had gotten, she had always been meant to be an unloved monster. She wanted to give into the thoughts and memories that debilitated her with pain because she deserved it. She deserved to relive her awful childhood, her sexual abuse, her neglect, because she had done nothing but passed that pain on to others with no regard for their emotions. But she couldn’t give in, not when you needed her, and especially not when Wanda was unstable.

“Where is she?” Natasha almost demanded, overcome by the need to protect you from the anxiety that was slowly flooding back into you, the anxiety that she had instilled into you. She couldn’t have you in pain, she couldn’t, not when you had been doing so well with your mental health as of late.

“Haven’t seen her”, Steve hummed sadly, his brows knit together in a deep frown that let Natasha know exactly who and what was plaguing him. Peggy. He was still hung up on her, hung up on his old life, his memories from war. Just like Natasha, he would never be able to truly let go of his past life.

“Any idea of what’s going on?” Clint asked next, Natasha giving him a look.

“She’s thirty-five weeks pregnant, what do you think?” She huffed, sounding a bit colder than she would have wanted to, but everyone was on edge, her included, which tended to bleed into her tone at times.

“She’s early”, Bruce pointed out in thought, Natasha nodding in agreement.

“We’ll go find her”, she said in determination, keen on doing something to hopefully move forward in the matter and take a step closer to finding out what was going on. She could feel the way you trembled in her arms, your breathing irregular and ragged, your distress only spurring her on. “Friday?”

“I would suggest you check her apartment, Miss Romanoff. She has collapsed on the bedroom floor. Her contractions are still irregular. Vitals are mostly normal. Heart rate and blood pressure have spiked in the last minute”, Friday informed in that monotone, polite voice of hers, the living room silent as she spoke. You couldn’t focus on the words as they blended into an unintelligible mess. Your breathing picked up. You couldn’t control the way you felt, anxiety squeezing your throat shut as your legs threatened to give in. You felt embarrassed for your emotional reaction. It felt stupid because everyone else was okay, and you were the weak one who couldn’t handle a few bad memories.

“Come on, honey”, Natasha prompted gently, pulling back from the hug to find your tears-streaked face. You looked up at her with a desperate frown that was soon etched on Natasha’s face as well. “Oh, hey”, she whispered in a much softer tone, her hand coming up to your cheek. “What is it, my love?” She asked quietly, pulling you to the side as your breath grew so shallow that you couldn’t get proper oxygen into your system anymore. She didn’t have to tell anyone to go check on Wanda, the room clearing rather fast with a single glance at the others.

“I don’t know”, you gasped. “Stuff”, you whimpered, despite knowing exactly what made you feel the way you did. You were so afraid, so unbearably afraid that you were going to lose her, even though you knew that everything was okay and no one was going to take her, but you just couldn’t shake the thought, shake the feeling of being left alone.

“That’s okay, dorogaya (darling). I know it can be overwhelming, but they’re just thoughts and memories. They can’t hurt you”, she assured you softly, her thumbs wiping your tears away. “It feels scary, but you’re safe with me”, she promised you, pulling you closer.

“I’m too old”, you whined, but Natasha only shook her head.

“Nonsense, myshka (little mouse)”, she mumbled, stroking her hand over your hair. “You’ll never be too old, never. You’re still nothing but a baby to me”, she hummed, clutching you to her body in an attempt to provide you more comfort.

“I’m just- I- I-“, you sobbed, leaning your face into the crook of her neck. “I don’t want you to leave me”, you whimpered, your voice cracking, sounding so frail it made you cringe.

“I won’t, baby. I’m right here”, she crooned, swaying you slightly.

“I’ll be all alone if you do”, you cried, your heart aching from the pain that had been suppressed for months on end. You inhaled deeply, plagued by the imagery from your nightmares, from being left alone by your mothers, both adoptive and biological. Naturally you didn’t have any conscious memories of having been abandoned or taken, but it was a feeling in your body, a feeling you could never escape, a feeling of not quite knowing where you belonged.

“You’re not alone, detka (baby)”, Natasha hummed into your neck, squeezing you tighter. “I’m right here. We’re all here. They’re only memories”, she said in an attempt to soothe you, but she knew there wasn’t much she could do. Your wounds had been ripped open, fresh, warm blood trickling out. You were all in pain. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetie”, she whispered in your ear, her brows furrowing when your breaths remained ragged, demanding far too much effort from you. “Breathe. Look at me”, Natasha instructed, cupping your cheeks firmly. “I’m right here”, she whispered, your eyes fluttering open to see her blurry face. You wanted to be small again, to curl up in her arms, you wanted her to hold you forever and ever.

“But if you die…” You hiccupped desperately, Natasha gaining some insight on the heart of the matter. You weren’t afraid for yourself, you weren’t afraid of the pain Wanda had inflicted upon you, no, you were afraid of what that pain was going to do to Natasha.

“Baby girl, I’m not dying. Nothing is going to happen, my love”, she assured you gently, your hands coming up to grip her forearms. “Shh, breathe. Look at me. Mommy’s right here”, she whispered, reverting back to her old habit of using a third person moniker. She wiped your tears with her thumbs, offering you a gentle smile. You felt so stupid, so childish for crying and panicking, your teeth sinking into your lower lip to regain some control over your emotions. You took a deep breath, your tears spilling once more as Natasha carried on. “Just because you feel like something bad is about to happen, doesn’t make it true. Your feelings don’t always reflect reality, honey. You might feel anxious, but that does not mean that something bad is going to happen”, she reminded you quietly, her thumbs continuing to stroke your cheeks in an attempt to comfort you. “Do you want me to hold you?” She asked hopefully, glancing at the couch. “We could sit down for a bit”, she suggested, earning a little nod from you. “Come here, myshka (little mouse).” She pulled you to the couches, sitting down and welcoming you right into her embrace as you slumped onto the cushions, Natasha’s arms wrapping tightly around you, her lips finding your hair.

“I got scared too”, she hummed, hoping that her shared experience would comfort you. “This isn’t the first time Wanda’s dug through my brain.” You remained silent, listening to her talk as you cried quietly. “When we first met she was working for the bad guys, and she got into all of our heads. She dug up our worst memories, worst fears, the very worst feelings we’ve felt”, she recalled, feeling a shiver go down her back. She was almost unable to believe that she had had to go through it for a second time. “The first time she went through my mind I couldn’t move after. I could only stare ahead. We were on a mission and Clint had to walk me back to the jet.” Her tone was soft, comforting, the low rumble something that had always soothed you like no other.

“Really?” You asked in disbelief, unable and unwilling to imagine that anything could affect your mother in that manner. She was stronger than anything else in the world.

“Really”, she nodded. “I felt awful for the rest of the day, rest of the week, because Wanda brought forward things I didn’t want to think about, things that I’d tried to ignore for many months, years, actually.”

“What things?” You asked in curiosity, pulling back from the hug to wipe your eyes, Natasha’s hands sliding down your arms to rub them gently.

“The hysterectomy, my childhood, my parents”, Natasha sighed out, feeling slightly reluctant to disclose such information but at the same time she saw no real reason why she couldn’t tell you about the things she struggled with.

“I’m scared that everyone will leave me”, you whispered, looking down at your lap. “That one day, when I wake up, suddenly everyone is gone”, you elaborated, hoping that telling your mother would ease the burden you carried. “I’m scared Makena will leave and take Trina and Lottie with her, and Wanda too now that she’s gonna have a baby. And then you’ll die, and Steve will move back to Brooklyn –he already spends so much time there. And Tony’s always with his family. So is Clint. That leaves me with Liho, but if I leave the window open she’ll run away”, you explained, Natasha almost horrified by your spiraling thoughts. “The whole family is broken up.”

“Dushenka (sweetheart)”, Natasha sighed gently. “No one is leaving you. No one”, she reiterated, pulling you into her side to comfort you. “Remember what I said about Makena? It’ll work out alright. People want to spend time with you. They genuinely love you, and if you love someone you’re not just going to leave. Would you ever just leave Makena, or Trina?” She brushed her fingers down the side of your face, tracing them down your jaw.

“No”, you mumbled, breathing in her perfume.

“See? And what comes to our family; we might not all be here every single day, but that doesn’t mean we’re abandoning you. That doesn’t mean that we love you any less. Times change, people change, it’s a part of life. And we can miss the way things used to be, but you have to remember that you have no idea what the future holds. We’re not meant to be stuck in one spot. Change is good, growth is good”, she said determinedly, stroking your hair.

“You sound like my therapist”, you huffed, Natasha smirking slightly.

“She’s a wise woman”, Natasha chuckled, taking a moment to herself before she dared to open her mouth again. “You know… I’ve been thinking”, she began rather ominously. “What if we moved to Manhattan?” You pulled back from her immediately.

“What?”

“It’s just a suggestion, honey”, she reminded you hastily, her eyes meeting your wary ones. “But we’d be closer to the city, you could go to high school there, find better opportunities. I’m getting sick of the woods”, she explained, glancing outside into the frosty field, the forest surrounding it looking as barren and grim as ever. “We could get an apartment in Brooklyn, just the two of us. Or we could most likely move into the Avengers tower, if you’d prefer to live in the big city”, she mused, clearly having thought of all the possibilities. Knowing her, she had probably already chosen a high school for you.

“But what about my friends, and everyone here?” You whimpered, your tears threatening to return.

“Baby, there’s nothing here but woods. I drive hours everyday to get you to school and practice”, she reasoned. “You said it yourself, our family barely spends time here anymore. Everyone’s got their own lives and I think it’s time we got ours too”, she said, offering you a pleading look. “You’ll find new friends in a new school and a new area. If we move around the time you go to high school you would be going to a new school nonetheless”, she reasoned, watching you pout a bit at her words.

“I’d hate that. I never want to move, never, ever”, you grumbled, Natasha feeling disappointed by your reluctance. She wanted to move so badly. She wanted back into the city where she felt like she could focus better on raising you, as well as finding a proper life outside of work and the world of being an Avenger. She wanted to live her own life, maybe find a silly job, or start a business. She needed to expand the different aspects of her life. She wanted more than the missions that repeated themselves over and over again. She wanted to find something joyful for herself before she grew too old for her line of work and was left penniless by forced pension. She wanted to be somewhere where she could grow as a person.

“I understand that, but please consider it, okay? I’d really like it if you could give it a chance”, she pleaded, saddened by the sullen look on your face. She knew she shouldn’t have brought it up at such a vulnerable moment but she couldn’t keep the idea inside her any longer. She needed to leave the compound.

“I’m gonna go find Wanda”, you huffed, getting off the couch and heading for the elevator, Natasha following in your footsteps.

You didn’t get very far, overtaken by that same wave of pain mere minutes later. It hurt just as badly as it had the first time, your knees buckling, jeopardizing your balance. Natasha grabbed the wall of the hallway, stilling for a moment to endure the stabbing pain in her body, but as soon as the worst of it was over she moved forward again, coming to your aid. She had felt worse in her life even though the pain was one of the strongest kinds of agony she had felt in a long time. She couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to you, someone who had endured very little pain in her lifetime aside from bumps and bruises. She knelt to your side, sticking beside you until the ache subsided. You wanted to be angry at her, you really did, but your need for her comfort and support was far greater than being petty was, so you allowed her to hold your hand and help you off the floor, your trip to Wanda’s apartment continuing. You ran into Tony by the front door, deducing that he was still recovering from the contraction Wanda had suffered, his seemed to have included a bit of mind digging as well, his pale complexion more than telling of the horrors that went through his head.

“You okay?” Natasha asked softly, her hand finding his bicep, stroking over the muscles in a caring gesture. Tony nodded, moving closer to the door. He let you and Natasha enter first, taking a moment to himself to fix his face before walking inside.

You were more than nervous when you entered the apartment, finding everyone gathered in the bedroom where you could hear Wanda whimper every now and then, in very obvious discomfort. She was lying on the floor with a pillow beneath her head, Vision sitting helplessly beside, petting her hair and holding her hand as they all waited for medical professionals to come and take Wanda to the medical wing. No one knew what to do, Natasha letting go of your hand as she moved to Wanda’s side, kneeling down.

“Wanda, how kind of you to make us all give birth on this lovely day”, Tony said in a rather chipper tone, but it didn’t match his face at all. Natasha glared at him.

“Hi, honey. Don’t listen to him.” Natasha’s hands caressed Wanda’s sweaty face, giving her a gentle smile, her eyes moving to the huge bump of Wanda’s belly. She wasn’t wearing more than her nightgown, her hands trembling in pain. “Did your water break yet?” Natasha asked, earning a small nod as Wanda breathed through the pain. “Has anyone been timing her? How far apart are your contractions?”

“I’d say a little over ten minutes”, Clint reasoned. “It could have been more or less. I don’t think we can trust the pain we felt to track anything. They seem to be pretty irregular. The previous one skipped over me”, he said evenly, very obviously a lot more tuned in on the situation than others, having gone through three childbirths with Laura.

“Got it. Time the future ones for me, okay?” Natasha ordered, turning to look at the others. “The rest of you can leave. We don’t need an audience here. Steve, take Y/N.” An appalled look found your face at her request. You should’ve been allowed to stay.

“Mom!”

“Out”, she ordered, Steve guiding you out of the room, as you sulked in the most aggressive way you knew how, hoping that Natasha would see just how displeased you were with her.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, Wanda gasped, clearly very exhausted already. “I don’t mean… to.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetie, just focus on your baby”, Natasha assured softly, glancing at Vision who brought Wanda’s hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it.

The medical professionals that arrived minutes later took Wanda out of her apartment and into the medical wing. You followed them to the waiting room, but you weren’t allowed any farther than that, and thankfully neither was Natasha because you wouldn’t have been able to handle the situation alone, not when Wanda was rampaging inside your vulnerable mind, not to mention the physical pain that only seemed to be getting worse.

“So, is it worse than getting kicked in the balls?” Natasha asked in mild curiosity, looking at Clint who was breathing through his teeth, gripping the edges of the waiting room chair to manage the all-consuming pain from yet another contraction from Wanda.

“I don’t know”, he groaned. “I just feel pain”, he grumbled, moving feebly, trying to find a more comfortable position on the chair. The rest of the team members had left in an attempt to escape Wanda’s magic, but you had refused, deciding to be brave for once. Natasha also seemed to be against leaving Wanda alone, although she had tried to make you leave with Tony.

“We should try. You wanna get kicked in the balls?” Natasha asked lightheartedly, trying to find something else to focus on instead of the pain that made her feel like her uterus still existed.

“Maybe not today. I’m booked and busy giving birth”, he responded, his voice dripping with pain and sarcasm. Had you been able to focus on external factors, you would have laughed, but your head felt too heavy, your entire body felt too light, too disoriented, and then the world went black as you fell off the chair you occupied. The pain was simply too much.

“f*ck.” Natasha slid off her chair, kneeling beside you in an instant, her hand cradling your head to keep it off the floor tiles. “We’re not staying”, she announced to Clint, who nodded in understanding.

“We should all go. There’s no point in this when we’re not even allowed in the room”, he reasoned, glancing down at his phone. He stared at it for a moment, reading the message at the top that was sent by Tony. “Stark says getting out of the compound is enough distance to escape the radius of Wanda’s powers”, he read quietly, Steve listening intently, his face looking a lot like he was already expecting another wave of pain. Everyone seemed to be on board with the plan.

“Want me to carry her?” Steve offered politely, Natasha shaking her head immediately.

“I’ve got her”, she replied in determination, adjusting your limp body on the floor to get the best possible grip on you to allow her to lift you up. Your eyelids started to flutter open, your head spinning when you felt her stand upright. You felt nauseous, allowing your body to sink into her hold. “It’s alright, darling, we’re leaving”, she said to you gently, glancing at your face, a worried frown forming a small crease between her brows.

“But Wanda-“

“She’ll be alright.” Her grip tightened on you a bit as she hurried after Steve and Clint to hopefully escape the next contraction that Wanda would have. Natasha took a step forward, her surroundings going black for a split second, changing into a dark room. She gasped at the change in atmosphere, feeling disoriented when the air turned cold, a specific smell from her childhood invading her nose. She would have known it in her sleep. It was the stench of fear, the fear of little girls packed into a small space, the stench of death. One of them was dead.

Natasha looked down at her body. You were still in her arms, cradled against her chest, small and frail, her face contorting into a wince of disgust. The smell was coming from you. Natasha knelt down onto the freezing, hard surface beneath her, her kneecaps digging into the floor, causing unnecessary pain as she clutched you against her chest, forcibly ignoring your cold skin, her eyes refusing to look down at your lifeless face. She felt the tears that streamed openly down her cheeks, her throat closing as she tightened her grip on you, squeezing you as hard as she could, desperately hoping that you would come back if she just held you hard enough, loved you hard enough. She did her very best to push aside the way your flesh gave in as it peeled off your bones. She was vehement to disregard the wet feeling on her lap, the purge fluids from your body seeping into her clothes, wetting her skin. The stench was repugnant, abhorrent, something that couldn’t be verbally described. She gasped for fresh air, blinking her eyes against the daylight that suddenly invaded her senses. She let out a watery sob that she did her best to swallow down, her hands searching automatically for you only to grope the air in front of her.

“Natasha, shh. It’s not real”, Clint said in a hushed tone, his hands coming up to Natasha’s cheeks like all those years ago. He knew exactly what to do with her, his large hands shaking her gently to gain her attention, Natasha’s eyes finally meeting his. She could do nothing but stare at him, her shallow breath making her feel lightheaded. She wanted to ask where you had gone, rising panic squeezing at her chest when she felt nothing but emptiness in the spot you had once occupied. She let out a strangled sound, the kind that came out as primal, terrified, Clint hushing her yet again.

“She’s with Steve.” His voice was placating, hands gentle. “It’s too dangerous here.”

“I-“ Was all Natasha could get out. She couldn’t speak no matter how she wanted to, fear clawing at her throat, cementing her to the ground. She couldn’t move, her mind stuck on the most horrible image her brain could have ever created. She was nauseous, her head throbbing, her entire body pulsing with pain, yet the physicality of her agony was nothing compared to the mental torture she had endured. She could have thrown up on the spot, but somehow Clint managed to hoist her to her feet and walk her out of the compound and into the crisp Fall air.

“Wanda”, Natasha gasped suddenly as Clint got her to their car, ready to evacuate you all from the compound for at least a while to avoid the worst of the pain Wanda was capable of causing. “She- The doctors”, Natasha tried to explain, worried for her friend who was not going to have any proper medical care, at least not if she was terrorizing the doctors as severely as she was terrorizing all of you. Natasha moved feebly on the backseat of the car, welcoming you into her embrace slightly vacantly despite wanting to calm you down. “I have to stay”, she protested, but the car door was swung shut and Steve was already on the go.

Natasha stared ahead, holding you against her, ignoring how much it reminded her of her awful hallucination. She couldn’t function, she couldn’t move. She heard you cry, but she could do nothing about it. Natasha felt lost, so utterly lost. She struggled to trust her surroundings, her thoughts, her senses. She knew her mind was in shambles, she knew not to trust what she had seen, what had been implanted into her mind by Wanda, but her body, her soul, didn’t know it, the emotional side of her fighting to regain full control of her. She felt a pull inside her, a part of her longing to go back for Wanda, to care for her friend who was very clearly in immense pain, but Natasha remained stuck. She couldn’t do anything about it, and despite knowing it was more than crucial to take you to safety she couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that engulfed her, not just from leaving Wanda behind but from the entirety of her life. Years’ worth of guilt weighed down on her and piled up on top of the already putrid wounds of her childhood. There was no escape from the horrors she had gone through in her life, and for a moment she felt uncontrollable rage toward Wanda, unsolicited, terrible thoughts going through her head for the pain that she had put you and her through. She resented Wanda for planting such a violent, nauseating image into her mind, an image, a hallucination, Natasha would never be able to shake. And in that moment of anger and resentment she decided to leave Wanda behind, focusing her energy on consoling you as Steve sped away, driving well past any speed limits that might have existed on the desolate, snowy road.

You recovered very slowly from the mental exhaustion that you were left with. Your body was in shock, limbs trembling like leaves in the wind as you sat on a couch in the Avengers tower with your arms wrapped around your knees in a loose hug. You stared ahead, feeling Natasha drape a blanket over your shoulders before she offered a steaming hot mug of tea to you, but when you simply stared at it she set it down on the coffee table, taking a brief look at the penthouse as she sat down by your side. She didn’t say a word, just sat beside you, struggling to keep her mind coherent and focused on reality, instead of the horrors that she had witnessed. She copied your position, resting her chin over her knee as she stared ahead through the windows into the grey skies. She heard you sniffle, her head turning immediately to see you, finding your teary eyes. You held her gaze for just a moment before averting it to the floor, tightening your hold on your legs. You couldn’t control your abnormally elevated heartbeat, or ignore the ache in your chest, your reeling mind only adding to your anguish. She had held you so hard, she had gripped your body with such strength it had genuinely hurt. Steve had had to pry her fingers off you, and you were certain that you currently had dark purple bruises blooming on your arm.

“What did you see?” Your voice was hoarse, your words coming out in a small croak. You scratched your nails over the fabric of your jeans, failing to contain your restlessness.

“What?”

“When we left. What did you see?” You turned to look at her, Natasha’s countenance wavering at the mention of her hallucination. She blinked a couple of times, very obviously caught off guard by your question, which was rather unusual because she was more than skilled at hiding her reactions.

“Oh, nothing. I don’t want you to worry about it”, she sighed, briefly closing her eyes as if to will away the mental image.

“Too late. What did you see?” You had never witnessed your mother so powerless, so weak. You had never seen a look so dreadful on anyone.

“It’s…” Natasha looked at you helplessly. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want you anywhere near the image. You watched tears spring into her eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly before she drew it between her teeth. “I can’t”, she whispered, closing her eyes in an attempt to hide her tears but they spilled instead, rolling rapidly down her cheeks and into the fabric of her pants. She turned away from you, burying her face into her knees. She wiped her eyes discreetly, her gaze returning to the horizon ahead.

“Mom, you can tell me”, you tried again, moving closer to her, your hand finding her arm in an attempt to somehow provide her comfort.

“I won’t. You don’t have to know”, she said evenly with a certain assertiveness that you rarely dared to defy, but that day was not one of those days, so you decided to try out a different approach.

“I’ve never heard a sound like that”, you began almost solemnly, immediately gaining Natasha’s interests.

“Like what?” She turned to look at you once more.

“Like someone was dying.” Natasha nodded in understanding, remaining quiet as she pinched her lips shut to regain control over her emotions, but her reddened eyes only produced more tears.

“What do you mean?” She swallowed thickly, clearly struggling to uphold the conversation.

“You let out this sob.” The sound seemed to echo in your chaotic brain, bouncing off the walls of your mind. It made you sick, your gut churning in fear because whatever she had seen had been something grave, something calamitous. You glanced at her, noticing the way she was fighting to maintain her composure. She didn’t want to tell you, but you could see that she had already given in.

“You were dead.”

“Oh.” You let out a small sigh. She didn’t have to elaborate. You knew the way she felt, you felt it yourself. You couldn’t understand how you had ended up there. Childbirth was supposed to be magical, a moment of celebration, but instead Wanda had torn everyone and everything apart. You wondered how she was doing, if she was okay because you could only imagine the pain she herself was going through based on what you and Natasha had experienced alongside everyone else who had decided to flee. Everything was so perfectly horrible. “You know, when we were in the car”, you began all of a sudden after the long period of silence that had taken over. “I had one of those hallucinations, but it wasn’t mine.”

“Whose was it?” She asked in curiosity, noting the way your eyes lingered on the tea, but you seemed reluctant to move from your comfortable position. Natasha extended her arm and grabbed the mug, offering it to you with a gentle smile.

“Wanda’s.” You took the mug into your hands, inhaling the sweet scent of peppermint, your heart melting a little at the halfway dissolved candy cane that hung from the rim. Natasha felt pleased that you had taken notice of her small attempt at bringing something positive to the afternoon, your amused eyes finding her own. You grabbed the candy cane and sucked on it. “I was stuck under a huge boulder, and I’d hit my head. It was bleeding, I think. My hand was covered in blood. It’s so strange”, you explained, almost falling into a soliloquy as you recalled the events, trying to make sense of them. “You’re there, hundred percent, you feel and see everything like it’s real life, but it isn’t your own. You’re a stranger in your own body, except the body isn’t yours, of course.” Natasha knew exactly what you meant, and she found it crucial for you to get the chance to express yourself as you processed the events, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah, it’s weird.” She received the candy cane from you when you took a small sip of the scalding tea.

“Do you know anything about Wanda’s childhood?” You turned to look at her, exchanging the mug for the candy cane.

“I know some things”, Natasha said rather vaguely, bringing the mug to her lips. “We don’t like to talk about our trauma.” She chuckled quietly, shaking her head fondly at the memories she had of any attempts at talking about feelings with other people. “There have been a couple times when we’ve really shared stuff. Um, it’s been a while, and we were… definitely tipsy.” The thought of it made you smile. “The city she lived in as a child was bombed, and she lost both her parents there.” Your smile faded in an instant, a sullen look forming onto your features. That was it. That was where you had been.

“Pietro was there too”, you said knowingly, receiving a mild look of surprise from Natasha, before her features softened in sympathy.

“You were there.”

“I was.” You both remained quiet for a moment, processing the pain of it all.

“I’m sorry, honey. You should have never had to go through that. Wanda should’ve never had to go through that”, she lamented, her hand finding your own to hold.

“Yeah. It was really scary. I just hope that she’s okay right now, that someone’s taking care of her.” You looked down at her hand, following the movement of her thumb as it stroked the side of your wrist over a scar done by none other than Liho. “Did you see anyone else’s memories?”

“No, feelings maybe, but no memories”, she responded solemnly, her attention slowly slipping away from you as she started to recall the things she had seen, the feelings she had felt, and the panic that still lingered in her body. She knew some of it wasn’t her own, she recognized parts that didn’t belong to her miserable upbringing and life, but they were small and vague enough to be drowned out by her own sorrows.

“Is this where we’d live if we moved?” Natasha was slightly surprised by your choice of topic in conversation, but she was glad to know that she had possibly planted a seed into your mind.

“Could be”, she hummed, looking out into the clouds. You nodded your head, studying the luxurious design of the coffee table, your eyes wandering to the co*cktail bar of the penthouse. “Or if you’d prefer something a bit more humble, I’m okay with that as well.” Her comment made you huff out a laugh through your nose.

“How humble?”

“I was thinking Upper West Side or Tribeca.” She gave you a knowing look.

“Mom! That’s far from humble.” You laughed softly, pleased to see her smile as well.

“Well, I’ve got the money, so why not? I think we’ve earned it”, she reasoned in mild defense.

“I don’t wanna grow up snobby.” You had already gone to slightly better private schools all your life, and you had seen what kinds of children and people the environment created. You didn’t want to be one of those oblivious, privileged kids who had no empathy toward others who might have had less fortune socially and economically.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I don’t think a penthouse apartment is going to waver your ideologies”, she hummed, a smile finding her face. “I can also put Harlem and Chinatown into consideration. Brooklyn is an option too if you’re craving something more hipster”, she said in a mild tease, glad to notice that she was slowly distracting you from everything that was wrong about that day.

“If we moved to SoHo we would live near the Ice Cream museum”, you pointed out almost playfully, amused by the idea.

“Excellent point.” Your moment was disrupted by a couple quiet pings of Natasha’s phone. Two baby boys.

As traumatic as the day had been, the wonderful news cheered you up nonetheless. You were glad for the pain to have passed, excited to return home and see the result of Wanda’s difficult labor. Upon re-entering the compound you made sure to conceal any anxiety that might have shone through your features, but Natasha could still feel the uneasiness in your body as you clutched her hand just a bit tighter than before. You were nervous, uncertain whether you were truly safe from Wanda’s magic or not. You were far too tired to experience any more mental torture, let alone physical torture for the day, hoping to pay a completely normal and uneventful visit to the Maximoffs. You met Steve and Clint in the waiting room, both seeming relieved that the painful episode was over, a certain lightness in the atmosphere as they spoke to each other. They had already visited the babies and it was finally your turn. Natasha brushed her hand down your back as you entered Wanda’s hospital room, finding her in her bed with two small cots beside her, the babies swaddled snugly into their temporary beds. Vision was beside her, not quite sitting on the edge of Wanda’s bed as he allowed her to rest her head against his chest. She seemed tired, not far away from falling unconscious, but she had enough energy to register you and Natasha just fine as you greeted the family with gentle smiles.

“How’s our witch doing?” Natasha asked fondly as she made her way to Wanda’s bedside.

“Mmh”, she groaned weakly, nuzzling into Vision who couldn’t help but to smile.

“She has been out of it for hours. They gave her a heavy dose of sedatives to allow the doctors to do their work without any painful disruptions. Thankfully, only one of them went down permanently. She’s currently in recovery in another patient room”, he said in his polite voice, gently scratching his nails over Wanda’s sweaty hair. Natasha smiled down at her, bringing her hand to Wanda’s forearm in a comforting gesture.

“You had twins”, you pointed out in excitement, walking over to the babies who slept soundly. They looked far from cute, but you had to forgive them because they had only been born an hour or two ago. You felt the urge to touch them, mesmerized by the life that Wanda had created. You wanted to hold both of them to properly introduce yourself to the babies, but it was not a smart move when Wanda was barely conscious and Vision seemed to be in need of some intense rest.

“I did”, Wanda mumbled with her eyes closed, struggling to open them at all. “Bil- um, Tom.”

“Billy and Tommy”, Vision clarified in mild amusem*nt, leaning down to press a kiss on Wanda’s forehead. You grinned at the interaction between them, your eyes shifting back to the babies, Natasha joining you to take a look at the new family members.

“Now I have two godsons”, Natasha mused affectionately, her hands itching to pick up a baby into her arms, but she came to the same conclusion as you had; it was not a good idea. “Oh, they are adorable, such handsome, little things”, Natasha cooed, earning a slightly incredulous look from you. They looked exactly like they had been squished by a vagin* on their way out. They were red and wrinkly, their faces swollen and their skin irritated.

“They are”, Wanda whispered from the bed, forcing you to nod in agreement.

“Hi, Billy and Tommy.” Natasha greeted them both rather officially, waving at them even though they were asleep. It never failed to amaze you how the most stoic of women could become such a sappy loser at the sight of babies. You found it rather hilarious that Natasha was always so excited about babies. Had you not been one of said babies that she gushed over, you would’ve never expected her to be such a softie.

“Thirsty”, Wanda said all of a sudden, moving feebly on the bed in an attempt to find a more comfortable position that would hopefully alleviate the ache she felt in her lower half.

“Y/N, why don’t you go find Wanda some juice?” Natasha’s suggestion was a rather obvious request for some alone time, so you agreed to her plans, Vision deciding to accompany you when you revealed that you had no idea what juice you were meant to get. Natasha walked to Wanda’s side, taking Visions place so Wanda would have someone to lean on. You wished you could have stayed to eavesdrop, but you followed Vision out of the room nonetheless.

“So… how was labor?” Natasha asked conversationally, noticing Wanda perk up a little as a worried frown found her face.

“Awful, but you already knew that.” Her speech was slightly slurred, although there was noticeably more effort put behind it after the change in subject. “I screwed up”, Wanda lamented, glancing at the babies before her gaze shifted to Natasha. Their eyes met. Wanda knew what she had done, and she knew just how much pain she had caused. “I’m so sorry”, she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes, her nose and cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink in an instant, emphasizing her flushed complexion from the labor that had been filled with blood, sweat, and tears.

“Shh, don’t think about it.” Natasha spoke gently, her hands caressing Wanda’s tired muscles.

“I hurt everyone”, she whispered, her wide eyes looking up at Natasha with such shame and fear that Natasha felt herself forgive Wanda in that instant. “I hurt you, didn’t I?” Wanda seemed to almost become panicked by the realization as it sank into her drugged-up mind. “Oh, no. What did I do?”

“Shh, Wanda. Everything’s okay. Everyone is just fine”, Natasha assured her.

“What did I do to you? Oh, and poor Y/N-“

“Wanda, Wanda! We’re okay”, Natasha intervened, cupping Wanda’s cheeks gently. “We’re all okay.”

“I showed you something. I can feel it.” Wanda could almost recall the aftermath of her labor, she could almost remember what she had made each individual see. It was that same feeling when a word would be on the tip of one’s tongue. She couldn’t quite reach it, no matter how she tried to.

“It’s alright, sweetie. It’s not your fault. I have a lot of material there for you to work with.” Natasha came off as indifferent toward her own pain. She was so used to it that it was second nature to her. Natasha wanted to protect Wanda from the pain Wanda had brought to everybody despite the disdain Natasha felt for everything that had happened. Natasha couldn’t quite shake off the anger that clung to her so vehemently, but she could pretend, and pretend she would.

“I- I don’t know what to- How do I fix it?” Wanda’s tears spilled, her lower lip trembling prominently as she stared ahead, her intoxicated brain struggling to find a solution.

“You don’t have to fix anything. Focus on the babies, focus on yourself for now”, Natasha said encouragingly. “There’s no use in dwelling on today. It happened, and we can’t change that.”

“I didn’t mean to-“ Wanda’s grip on Natasha’s hand tightened.

“I know you didn’t, darling. We all know”, Natasha assured Wanda, giving her hand a squeeze in return, Natasha’s eyes wandering to the boys on their own, a slight frown flashing across her features. She looked at Wanda for a moment before speaking again. “Please, allow yourself to rest.” Wanda nodded her head, Natasha’s gaze shifting to the babies again, then back to Wanda. There was a long moment of silence where Natasha pondered whether to bring up what she had on her mind or not, unsure if the timing was inappropriate. She contemplated it for a good while, waiting for Wanda to say something, but eventually curiosity got the best of Natasha.

“I’m sorry Wanda, but I have to ask, how did you get pregnant?” Natasha’s tone was slightly lower, as if she was ashamed of her own question.

“Nat, I think you’re old enough to know”, Wanda smirked, looking more than dazed. The longer Natasha observed her, the more she realized just how high Wanda was.

“No, but I mean… Vision is a synthezoid”, Natasha clarified, feeling a bit awkward, hoping Wanda wouldn’t remember her questions by the next day. Wanda looked like she hadn’t quite thought of the fact, her brows scrunching up in confusion, a comical look overtaking her features.

“He didn’t pull out, if you know what I mean-“ Wanda began.

“Yeah, yeah, I got that”, Natasha intervened immediately, unwilling to hear anything of the sort, a small smirk finding her lips. “But he doesn’t… ejacul*te, right?” Natasha frowned, Wanda looking more than appalled.

“Natasha!” She gasped. “Have some decorum!” She giggled in a very girly manner, her eyes suddenly shining with amusem*nt. “They’re magic babies. I don’t know how they’re here but they are”, Wanda explained. “It’s magic.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like every other parent in the world”, Natasha laughed, her hand squeezing Wanda’s softly, comfortingly. “Bruce is gonna have a field day with those babies”, Natasha muttered to herself, taking yet another look at them.

“Hmm?” Wanda questioned, prompting Natasha to repeat her words, but the loopy look on her face told Natasha that Wanda wouldn’t have caught on anyway.

“Nothing, sweetie”, Natasha assured gently, brushing some of Wanda’s sweaty hair back, left hand caressing her smooth cheek. “You did so well today. You’ve got two healthy baby boys. You’ve earned your rest, Wandachka”, she whispered, standing up from her seat and leaning over to kiss Wanda’s forehead.

“Thank you, Natty”, Wanda cooed, her eyelids drooping down.

“Don’t call me that”, Natasha chuckled, Wanda merely smiling a drunken smile.

“You’re cute.” Wanda smirked, pinching the air as if wanting it to be Natasha’s cheek.

“Do you want me to go find Vision for you?” Natasha asked in a small chuckle.

“Yes, please.” Wanda’s head nodded forward, her eyelids drooping down, making her blink in a manner typical to frogs. The sight made Natasha smile as she exited the room, a huge weight lifting off her shoulders. Everyone was okay. The war was over.

Chapter 45: Friction

Chapter Text

“How does that feel?” Tony asked you, backing away from you a bit to take a better look at his creation. You moved your arms forward, testing out the feel of the surprisingly light armor around you, your eyes running along your forearms, studying the intricate details of the suit.

“Pretty good.” You nodded, looking at him through the halfway closed faceplate. You glanced at Morgan who admired your impressive suit with such intensity you could practically see the heart-eyes on her. “It’s really light.”

“Yeah, the nanotech makes it much more compact, and of course Vibranium is very light in and of itself”, he mumbled, moving to adjust something on the armor around you.

“So, is today the day?” You inquired, trying to find Tony’s eyes but he was more focused on your suit. He adjusted something with a screwdriver, or at least something that looked like a screwdriver, before lifting his gaze up to meet yours.

“Today’s the day.” His warm eyes shone with excitement, a proud smirk on his lips as he backed away from you. “Alright, Friday. Close the faceplate and we’ll see if everything is looking the way it’s supposed to.” The suit obeyed the command, soft whirring sounding near your ears as the piece of Vibranium covered your face and locked you inside the suit, various screens, diagrams, and numbers appearing in front of you. It was more than you were capable of processing, but you did find it fascinating that you got to see firsthand how the AI-operated machine worked. It was constantly doing something: calculating, measuring, analyzing the world around you, presenting all the findings to you on screens of different sizes. You could see everything down to the smallest details. The suit told you exactly how far away Tony stood from you –2,56 feet (78cm)– and how tall Morgan was –45.1 inches (114,55cm). You turned around, directing your gaze up to the ceiling, looking around at everything you could possibly find in order to see it in a new light.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Tony asked almost smugly, knowing just how impressive his skills were to the average human, and he was more or less aware of the effect they had on a child of any age.

“So cool!” You spun around a couple of times until your eyes landed on Morgan’s, Friday telling you all the essential information about her, listing her name, age, height and weight, as well as analyzing her facial expression to determine whether she was a threat or not. After a few seconds of scanning, the AI came into the conclusion that she was harmless. “This is crazy! Do I have weapons too?” You were clearly ecstatic, Morgan barely able to contain her own excitement, impatient to wait for her turn.

“They’re disabled because you hooligans don’t know how to avoid pissing off your mothers, but we’ll get to them eventually.” Tony moved to a side table nearby, grabbing a pair of dainty bracelets that were of a beautiful maroon color, just like his own suit, but instead of the gold accents, Morgan had rose gold. He moved closer to his daughter who immediately held out her wrists for him, familiar with the drill.

“You told me to aim at the wall!” You hissed, still somewhat bitter for the way he, as an adult, had told a clueless five-year-old you to wreck the living room wall with a non-baby-proofed Ironbaby prototype, despite claiming that it was, in fact, baby-proofed, but Natasha and his opinions had definitely differed.

“I did no such thing.” His tone was infuriatingly dismissive, but you let it slide, your attention redirecting to Morgan who giggled as the nanotechnology covered her from head to toe in tiny Vibranium plates that tickled her horribly.

“Daddy, can we fly already?” She squealed, turning her head to the side to see her father who glanced down at her, his hand finding the top of her helmet to pat.

“Can we? Do you still remember how to do it, or has your busy bee brain already forgotten?” He asked teasingly, making her laugh.

“I remember!”

“And Y/N?”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You saluted him, using the internal controls in your gloves to turn your jets on, the blast lifting you a mere few inches off the ground, just like Tony had taught you before. Morgan listened to no such instructions, her body blasting off the floor, the suit reaching its altitude limit in a mere second, halting a few inches short from meeting the ceiling. The safety percussion was clearly more than needed. She giggled loudly, her voice distorted slightly by the suit.

“Ah, so you do remember”, Tony retorted sarcastically, looking up at his daughter, but the corners of his mouth curved into a smile against his will as Morgan hovered steadily above in an upright position that you had all practiced together. “Maybe we should move this outside.”

The decision was more than a good idea. Not only did you have much more space on the field outside, but you also had practice targets and a flying track that Tony had made out of hologram obstacles to minimize risk of injury and collision. You had flown only a few small test-runs with your suit, and you felt a bit nervous about going higher, although most of your worries were pushed aside by your excitement, but for Morgan, danger seemed to be the last thing on her mind. She was beyond excited, Tony disabling her suit completely by using a controller that he had created for that exact purpose, Morgan’s childishly carefree attitude disregarding any possibility of harm. However, disabling the suit was not a problem for her, Morgan resorting to running around on the muddy grass that was dead and wilted as a result of the thick snow coat that had covered it for months. You followed her energetic frolicking with great amusem*nt as Tony made some last-minute adjustments to the settings of the suits. You waited patiently for him to give you the green light to try out flying again, standing still with your face directed at the sun to soak in its warmth. You had missed warmer weathers, finding comfort in the knowledge that summer was on the way once more to put an end to the cold and wet winter that seemed to have stretched on to infinity.

“Morgan, you know how to do this”, Tony stated confidently, patting the girl’s helmet-covered head.

“I do!”

“Go ahead, sweets.” Morgan did not have to be told twice, her body launching into the air with a certain confidence that was the result of private lessons from Tony. She hovered a couple feet above you in her new, shiny suit, distorted giggles sounding from behind the face plate.

“You know what you’re doing, right?” Tony asked you, his attention lingering on Morgan for a second longer before he turned to you.

“Yes, sir.” You adjusted your body a bit, shifting on your feet as a nervous tic, impatient to finally fly.

“Let’s see what you got then.” You gave him a small smile, commanding the face plate to lower down, the jets turning on, your body slowly gaining more altitude as you hovered above the ground. The sensation was strange, but you had gotten more or less used to it after the first few attempts. Flying the suit required a sense of balance, demanding you to keep your body as straight as a rod to avoid steering yourself into the wrong direction. The suit was very sensitive to any movements of your body. If you leaned forward even just a little bit, you would start moving into that direction. It was almost like a hoverboard, but in the air; you simply needed to find the balance to gain full control over the suit. For Morgan that was not an issue, her body flying every-which-way, Tony’s hand operated controller never leaving his hand as he had to constantly realign Morgan’s suit so that she wouldn’t fly away from you like a stray balloon.

Natasha was blissfully unaware of everything that was going on, you and Morgan’s new hobby unable to cause Natasha any more distress than what she was currently experiencing. She held Tommy in her embrace, bouncing the five-month-old baby in her arms rhythmically to hopefully soothe him enough to make him fall asleep. Natasha tried to keep her mind in check and focus on the bundle of joy that she had agreed to look after while Wanda nursed Billy on the couch of the communal living room. Natasha held him as if he had been her own, the pad of her thumb stroking his silky cheek as she walked back and forth, humming quietly to him. Wanda glanced her way, a sad frown on her features, her hands holding Billy to her chest ever so gently as he suckled down his lunch. She could tell that Natasha was tense, no matter how much her physical exterior tried to hide it. Wanda saw deeper, felt more, through her telekinesis. She felt the resentment, the fear, the mess that stirred within Natasha, an apprehensive pout finding Wanda’s lips.

“I’m sorry”, Wanda said suddenly, causing Natasha to turn her back on the large windows as she faced Wanda.

“Sorry? Honey, what are you sorry for?” Natasha asked in confusion, coming a bit closer to the couches.

“You know what.” The look on Wanda’s face was grim as she turned to her son, adjusting his head carefully to give him better support. Natasha nodded softly in understanding. “How’s Y/N taking it?” It was easier to bring you into the conversation, both for Wanda and Natasha, because it made the matter less personal somehow.

“She’s back in therapy, just as a precaution though. I believe that she’s doing okay. I hope so, at least. She seems more or less normal”, Natasha said quietly, trying her best not to disturb Tommy. “She did have a nightmare a couple days ago. It was probably not the only one, but it was bad enough that she slept next to me for the rest of the night.” Natasha didn’t want to soften the blow in the slightest. There was no use in sugarcoating the damage Wanda had done, and although it was good for Wanda to be aware of it, Natasha did recognize that a part of her sought revenge. “We’ve spoken about it all a couple of times, and she told me that she feels burdened by the memories from your childhood. She’s too kind, too caring to push something like that aside.” She wanted to make Wanda feel the pain she had brought upon everyone. She wanted her to suffer in the same way as Natasha herself was.

“And you?” Wanda looked meek as she stated her question, cowering under Natasha’s gaze despite it being nothing but ordinary. Natasha looked at Wanda for a long moment, sorting her thoughts a bit before deciding to simply tell the truth.

“I see her corpse every night, every time I close my eyes.” Natasha’s eyes were cold, her face void of any emotion. “It follows me everywhere.” Wanda swallowed thickly, glancing down at her baby as if afraid that she would have to experience the very thing Natasha was talking about, Billy’s squishy cheeks and round eyes bringing a sorrowful smile to her face. She couldn’t even imagine how Natasha was feeling.

“I’m so sorry, Natasha.” Wanda tried again, not knowing what else she could do, but the look she received from Natasha told her all that she needed to know. There was nothing she could do to make up for it. Nothing. Wanda had done the one thing that Natasha could never forgive, the one thing she could never forget.

“Sometimes, when I look at her, hold her, I can almost feel it. Her cold skin, the smell, the rotting flesh.” Normally Natasha wasn’t one to talk feelings, but she knew it was one of the only ways for her to alleviate the burden of the memory that haunted her, the emotional, selfish side of her wishing to pass that pain on to Wanda. “It’s like a ghost that looms over her, a premonition.” Natasha feared nothing as much as she feared your pain and suffering. She feared nothing in the world more than your death. At times she couldn’t look at you for too long without feeling a surge of horror go through her, her mind unable to shake the fear of having to encounter her hallucinations in real life. She was afraid of manifesting the very agony she was trying to escape. She turned to look at Wanda again expectantly, waiting for her to respond to her, an air of accusation surrounding her. Wanda looked at her helplessly, a slight crease forming between her brows as her eyes pooled with tears. She couldn’t even begin to describe the intensity of the guilt she felt. She knew there was nothing she could say to alleviate Natasha’s agony, nothing she could do.

“I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Me neither.” Natasha’s words came out in a blunt huff that was more than telling of her stance on the matter. There was clearly someone to be blamed for her indisposition, and that very person was Wanda.

“If there’s anything I could do for you, or Y/N, or anyone- No one really talks about it. You all look at me with that same look in your eyes, but none of you are telling me what to do about it”, Wanda began in mild frustration. She felt uneasy about the way the events had been swept under a rug by everyone at the compound, including the nurses and doctors who had tended to her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. If I could take it all back I would, and I know that’s not enough, but there’s nothing else I can do.” Natasha looked at her, completely unmoving, her stoic face unresponsive. She wasn’t there to accept any apologies; she had done that five months ago to please a drugged-up Wanda.

“I know. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do. You’ve all made it more than clear.” Wanda countered, feeling rising anger somewhere within her. She was sick of the way she and her babies were getting treated, she was tired of the resentment that everyone tried to conceal by being either overly nice to her or avoidant of her. “I can erase it.” Wanda’s statement gained Natasha’s attention, Natasha’s eyes shifting to Wanda and back to Tommy.

“No.”

“Why not? You would never have to see it again. I could take it all away”, Wanda reasoned, nearing despair for wanting things to return to normal as soon as possible.

“You’ve done enough.” Natasha was far too afraid to let Wanda anywhere near her vulnerable, chaotic mind. She feared Wanda, something that would’ve probably never crossed Wanda’s mind.

“What about Y/N?” Wanda suggested, somehow remaining hopeful of being able to do something for those who had fallen victim to her magic.

“No.” There was not even the slightest of chances that Natasha would’ve ever let Wanda’s powers anywhere near you again. She would not allow it no matter what.

“Are you… sure?” Wanda’s speech slowed down, her eyes moving past Natasha to the grass lawn outside, three floating figures soaring through the air in tandem. Natasha turned around to look at what had stolen Wanda’s attention.

“Is that…?

“Tony, Morgan and Y/N?” Wanda’s inflection turned questioning toward the end of her sentence as she squinted her eyes at the suit she had never seen before. It was only slightly smaller than an adult-sized suit would have been, her best guess on you since no one else in the compound was your size, and everyone knew what Pepper’s suit looked like.

“You’ve got to be kidding me”, Natasha sighed, bringing Tommy over to a carrycot that sat beside Wanda on the floor before exiting the room with sudden haste, heading outside with no further delays.

“Y/N Romanoff!” You heard the faint sound of your mother’s voice as you and Morgan flew across the hologram track, your head turning toward the ground where she stood with her arms crossed, a murderous stare in her eyes.

“Oh, Nat!” Tony greeted rather cheerfully, moving a bit lower to hover closer to her.

“Oh, f*ck off”, she hissed, Tony’s hand coming up to his face place as if to hush her.

“You know, there are children present”, he reminded her in a rather patronizing way that was anything but amusing to Natasha. You could barely hear her anyway.

“Y/N! Get down for me, please!” She glanced at your colorful suit, glaring at Tony again. You still struggled to do quick and sudden turns in the air, so you dodged one of the last obstacles in you and Morgan’s way, holding onto her hand tightly so that she would follow your lead. You did a large curve at the end of the track, slowly finding your way to Tony and Natasha. Morgan was giggling loudly, completely oblivious to Natasha’s anger, the girl’s joyous laughter rubbing off on you as you landed in the brown grass in front of your mother, your faceplates sliding up.

“Mom, oh my god! You won’t believe-“ You lowered your voice, your excited laughter dying down, your animated tone turning a bit more timid at the sight of her grim face. Natasha looked at you clad in the high-tech suit, her frown softening at the small pout that had appeared on your face just as fast as your joy had disappeared upon her arrival. She looked at your flushed face, her eyes shifting to Morgan’s pink cheeks and playful eyes.

“Won’t believe what?” She asked with sudden brightness, her tone much more upbeat than you had expected.

“This”, you chuckled a bit awkwardly.

“Looks like you guys are having fun”, she noted, her feigned curiosity and excitement coming off as rather authentic. She never wanted to be the person to steal your joy but nourish it instead. She was being irrational, allowing her negative emotions to take control of her exterior and behavior. She knew that. There was no real reason why you couldn’t learn to fly a suit, no other reason than Natasha’s fear of losing you in an accident, but she knew that Tony would never put you and his own child in danger. Never. You all knew that the suits were more than reliable, and probably kept you safer than anything else ever could have.

“Yeah! Tony made us that track so we can practice flying. Mom, I’m literally flying!” You exclaimed. “Look, look!” Your body lifted off the ground slowly as you let go of Morgan’s hand, hovering above the grass to demonstrate her your new skill. “Have you ever flown in a suit? This is crazy!”

“I have. Once or twice”, Natasha responded conversationally, giving Tony a look when he squinted her way. He was most likely trying to figure out where her ire had disappeared.

“We should go together!”

“We should, shouldn’t we?” She agreed brightly, Morgan’s floating form stealing her attention for a moment.

“This is so fun! Oh, and look, Tony gave us voice filters.” You slid your face plate back down, changing settings inside the suit before speaking again in the voice of your favorite cartoon character. “This is the best thing ever!” Natasha chuckled softly, genuinely touched by your enthusiasm to show her everything you had learned that day. “And I can do a flip.”

“No way! Let’s see it then.” Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, forcing a smile on her face as she watched you make a circle in the air.

“Wow, well that’s definitely something. Maybe you’ll be the next Ironman”, she said a bit teasingly, but you didn’t mind it.

“Maybe, but if that happens, I want a cooler name.”

“Hey!” Tony chimed in, Natasha’s smile turning a bit more genuine. “Try finding something cooler than Ironman”, he groused.

“That’s not much of a challenge.” Tony rolled his eyes as your attention went back to your mother. “Why’d you come here? Did you have something?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going flying?” She asked, feeling her overly protective side flare up from anger and fear.

“Uh, I didn’t think I had to. I mean we’re just playing outside.” She seemed to accept your explanation at face value. It didn’t really matter all that much. She was sure you were safe with Tony, at least she wanted to be no matter how much her body was telling her to freak out. “So, did you need me for something?” You asked expectantly, clearly hoping to get back to what you were doing.

“Oh, no. I just wanted to see what you were up to. Next time let me know, so I can join you”, she said softly, walking closer to you. “I’ll be home. Don’t stay too late. You know your curfew. You’ve got last night’s homework to do.” She brushed her knuckles over your cheek before kissing your forehead. You nodded your head, smiling brightly, slowly floating out of her reach.

She looked at you for a long while, Morgan joining you on the track as well, Natasha’s performance slipping away the second you children were no longer present. Tony didn’t dare say a word or even move from his spot, waiting for her wrath to be brought upon him, but nothing happened. Natasha turned around in silent rage, slowly walking away from the field.

The emotions got an overwhelming grip on her the second the front door of your apartment slid shut, her determined poise faltering, the corners of her mouth tugging down into a sad frown that she forcibly wiped off her face, swallowing down the cries that pushed up her throat. She huffed quietly, blowing out a controlled breath to calm herself down as she blinked back her tears. She crouched down enough to reach Liho who came to greet her, but when the cat evaded her hand, she straightened herself back upright, too vulnerable to handle rejection from what was supposed to be her beloved pet. She couldn’t be alone, she couldn’t let herself be alone because if she did, she would finally allow herself to break down. She kicked her shoes off and headed for the living room, finding her phone from her back pocket. She dialed the only number that was on speed dial for her. She needed the company to keep herself together.

“Allo, sestra (Hey, sestra)”, her tone was playful, she was clearly in a good mood. Natasha heard some laughter and the hum of cars, maybe even a honk from somewhere far away.

“Hi.” Natasha couldn’t get anything more out of her mouth, the sound of engines and traffic filling in the silence that followed.

“Chto sluchilos? (What’s up?)”

“Uh, are you busy?” Natasha tried not to sound so pathetic and needy, but she couldn’t deny that she did need Yelena because she had no one else she was willing to confide in. Clint was back with his family, and Natasha had no desire to disturb his time with his kids.

“I’m in the Great Apple.” Yelena’s thick accent came through as she switched to English as well.

“You are?” Natasha hated how hopeful she sounded all of a sudden, her emotions flaring up at the new piece of information, at the potential that lay behind Yelena’s statement.

“Yeah. Why did you call? Is everything okay?” Yelena seemed to slow down a bit after noticing the abnormal, child-like wistfulness in Natasha’s tone.

“Yeah, yeah…” Natasha went silent, her throat squeezing shut against her own will. She couldn’t lie. She couldn’t escape the feeling that she had, and to her utter disappointment, another person’s presence wasn’t enough to force her to suck it up.

“What’s wrong, Natinka?” Yelena’s voice softened, the constant whir of cars fading away as if she had moved away from the noise.

“Nothing- nothing is wrong”, she croaked, wiping her eyes hastily to get rid of her tears.

“Natasha.” The way Yelena said her name, the way she nearly pleaded for her to tell the truth, made Natasha cave.

“I can’t protect her.”

“Y/N? Protect her from what?” Yelena sounded worried, afraid that something serious had happened because she knew her sister didn’t fret just about anything.

“Everything”, she whimpered. “I can’t… do anything.”

“This is about the vision.” It wasn’t a question, nor a guess, Yelena knew that Natasha was constantly plagued by the image that had been planted into her mind.

“I- I want to lock her up. Put her in her room where she’d be safe, where no one could reach her”, Natasha said in a sudden frenzy. “I need her out of harm’s way. I need her protected at all times, but I can’t do that. I can’t do that because it would ruin her.” Yelena listened to her intently, humming her acknowledgments to avoid interrupting her monologue. “I can’t… because- I know what it’s like to have no control, to have no fun. I want her to be happy. I want her to have fun.” The words came out in a strainer sob that Natasha tried to hide, but there was nothing she could do to fight against the need to be heard, to be understood.

“Of course you do, any sane parent would”, Yelena reasoned, hearing a quiet sniffle from Natasha.

“You know what… This is so unnecessary. I’ll talk to you later”, Natasha said suddenly, Yelena protesting immediately at the very familiar sign of regret in her sister.

“Natasha-.” The line went silent before Yelena had the chance to say another word. She turned to look at Kate who was walking around the pole of a streetlight, holding onto it with one hand in a manner much similar to a bored child. They shared a look, holding each other’s gazes for a moment, Kate’s brows furrowing questioningly. “We might have to take a small detour.”

Natasha sat in the living room in perfect silence, staring ahead with a certain vehemence as she held onto her tears. It was all so stupid, so irrational. She knew better than to feel anything, she knew better than to trust a single emotion that she had. She knew not to get involved with any feelings at all no matter what kind. Emotions were for losers, for normal people, and she happened to be neither. She took a deep breath, focusing all her energy on keeping herself together, her eyes welling up with tears no matter how much she was against it. She wanted to scream, she wanted to punch something, but she had never been one to express her emotions outwardly. She aimed to remain in complete control of herself, but it was starting to look like she was losing the fight, and losing it fast, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. There was a quiet purr that sounded from the floor, a gentle thud letting Natasha know that Liho had hopped up onto the couch. She heard its paws against the backrest, felt its movements as it neared her head. Liho took a tentative step on Natasha’s shoulder, its silky paws pressing gently into her body as it moved over her and onto her lap, curling up into a black fur ball on her thighs. She stared down at the cat with a sad frown, her hands coming up as if to cup the ball, but she didn’t dare to pet Liho so that it wouldn’t leave. The emotions that Natasha felt were so strong, so debilitating that she could do nothing but sit in that heavy feeling of dread that bubbled up inside her fidgety body. She felt weak both emotionally and physically, her tired mind using the very last of its energy on forcing itself to think about something other than the cause of her anxiety. She wished she could have found something to do, something to distract her from the mental chaos she sat in the middle of, but she failed to find the strength to get up from the couch, her body glued to the cushions, weighed down by Liho.

She didn’t know how long she had sat in that same spot and same position when she heard a knock at the door, her brows drawing together into a frown. Had it been you, she would have simply heard a loud bang that was produced by the door whenever you kicked it open. You would have never even thought of knocking. With a quiet sniffle, Natasha ushered Liho off her and got up from the couch, wincing at her aching limbs that protested the uncomfortable position that she had occupied, a numbing, prickling sensation spreading across her glute and down the side of her thigh, all the way to her calf. The first few steps she took were unstable and painful, but she managed to make her way to the front door without further struggle. She opened it with a quick turn of the doorknob, giving it a small nudge.

Natasha had been doing so well with repressing her emotions, she had been doing okay, she had been fine, or had tried to be, but when she saw Yelena’s face, her lower lip picked up a steady tremble and her eyes filled with fresh tears. She tried to say her name, tried to at least greet her, but her throat squeezed shut, a mere whimper falling from her lips when Yelena pulled her into her arms. Natasha could no longer fight it, she simply let it happen, her body leaning against Yelena’s strong frame. She felt Yelena’s hands slide up her back, rubbing her soothingly, pulling her closer.

“Oh, Natasha”, Yelena whispered, her hand coming up to stroke Natasha’s hair. “It’s okay.” Natasha didn’t react to her words, remaining helplessly in Yelena’s arms, hoping to find the comfort she was looking for after failing to deny the fact that she wanted to feel loved and cared for. Yelena gave her a small squeeze before pulling away, Natasha’s eyes darting to the floor to hide the fact that she was crying despite how useless it was. Yelena’s hand came up to her face, her fingers wiping off the warm tears before she closed the door and toed off her shoes. “Come.” She grabbed Natasha’s hand, pulling her into the living room to find the very couch Natasha had spent the afternoon on, taking a seat on the comfortable cushions, prompting Natasha to follow suit. “Just like with mama”, Yelena said softly, guiding Natasha to lie down and place her head on Yelena’s lap. Natasha followed suit without further protest, allowing Yelena to card her fingers through Natasha’s hair.

It was something that originated from their undercover mission in Ohio. Melina had introduced the girls to a habit of laying their heads down on Melina’s lap so she could play with their hair to soothe them after a nightmare or any other worries that crossed their young minds. It was a familiar form of affection that was easy to welcome for both parties: Yelena’s mild dread of physical intimacy remaining at ease at the lack of full-body contact, Natasha, in turn, comforted by the fact that she was allowed to feel small for just a moment without having to feel the shame of being too vulnerable with someone. Neither of them were fans of intimacy, often finding themselves uncomfortable with extended periods of physical closeness, but Yelena could tell that her sister needed a shoulder to cry on, and she was more than happy to do anything she could to provide comfort. Maybe in some ways it even disturbed Yelena to see Natasha so down, which only encouraged her to make a better effort.

Natasha adjusted her head on Yelena’s thighs, getting more comfortable on the couch as Yelena tangled her fingers into Natasha’s hair, wincing when she accidentally tugged on the thick locks a bit harder than was necessary, but Natasha didn’t mind. She was merely comforted by the fact that Yelena was there. A few minutes later Liho joined them, finding its way into the space between Natasha’s bent up thighs and her abdomen, the cat squeezing itself into the cozy spot on the couch that Natasha’s body formed. Their silence stretched on for dozens of minutes as Natasha cried out her sorrows, wetting Yelena’s jeans with her tears. Yelena remained quiet and still as she braided strands of Natasha’s hair over and over again, unraveling each braid and starting over again until Natasha finally felt stable enough to speak.

“Did you come alone?”

“No. I came with Kate. She’s outside, no doubt annoying the sh*t out of Tony”, Yelena huffed, earning a watery chuckle from Natasha.

“Good.” She nuzzled closer to Yelena, letting out a long sigh, her sore and heavy eyelids sliding shut when Yelena’s fingernails scraped over her scalp. “Did you see Y/N?”

“Yeah… I get where you’re coming from”, Yelena hummed solemnly. “It is scary to see her in a position that you associate with pain and danger.” Natasha nodded softly. “You know the kind of injury those suits can cause if things go really wrong.” Natasha nodded again.

“But you should have seen her face.” Natasha’s voice was weak, cracking slightly as she spoke. “She was so happy. Her entire face was shining from how happy she was… And the minute I told her to come down it was wiped away.” Yelena frowned in sympathy, her fingers skimming over Natasha’s temple, looking to somehow soothe her even more by caressing the delicate skin on the side of her face. “I took that away from her. I made her feel bad.”

“You didn’t mean to do that”, Yelena protested immediately, but Natasha wasn’t convinced.

“It doesn’t matter. I did it whether I wanted to or not.” Natasha took a deep breath, slowly turning to lie on her back so she could see Yelena’s face, her hand finding Liho’s soft fur. “I don’t know how to live with myself. I suck the joy out of everyone.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her forest green eyes wide and sad.

“You do not.”

“I do.”

“No”, Yelena said a bit more firmly.

“Yes.” Natasha’s opinion wasn’t easily persuaded.

“Shut up.” Yelena refrained from rolling her eyes, annoyed by their childish banter when she could so clearly see that Natasha did not in fact suck the joy out of others.

“No.”

“You’re annoying.”

“So are you”, Natasha sneered, scrunching her nose in disapproval.

“Well, you’re more annoying”, Yelena continued, their collective frustration only growing.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Yelena finally gave in, trying her best to remain on topic. “You’re doing your best with her.”

“My best is not good enough”, Natasha argued vehemently, glaring up at Yelena.

“Yes, it is. No one is expecting you to be any better than you already are at parenting. The only one setting up unrealistic standards is you.” Natasha didn’t like to be called out for her unreasonable behavior, her brows drawing into a petulant frown.

“If there’s room for improvement then why not improve myself?”

“It doesn’t work like that, not with stuff like this, besides, you can’t function at your optimal level forever. You’ll run out of energy. You know that.” Yelena was right of course, but that wasn’t something Natasha was ready to admit. “You need to let go of her. She isn’t going to get hurt if you lose sight of her for longer than ten minutes.”

“You don’t know that. No one knows that”, Natasha grouched, crossing her arms over her chest, staring past Yelena at the ceiling.

“I’m saying statistically. What are the odds?”

“You, if anyone, should know better than to trust the odds.” Natasha gave Yelena a look that somehow told the latter more than a thousand words at once, memories of their shared past written all across their faces.

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re only making her and yourself miserable. You need to find a way to trust that things will be okay even if you don’t follow her every move”, Yelena explained, doing her best to remain patient through Natasha’s persistent attitude.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a brief moment of silence as Natasha gathered her thoughts. “Easier said than done.” She went silent again, a long sigh escaping her. “I just… What am I gonna do if something happens? She’s so small and tiny. She’s so little and precious.” Natasha covered her face with her hands, hiding the tears that welled up in her eyes.

“Have you ever considered that she’s not as little anymore as you think she is”, Yelena countered tentatively, and apparently with good reason, Natasha’s gaze laced with anger.

“She’s a baby.” Natasha grumbled.

“You know she’s not.”

“She’s thirteen!”

“Think about what you were doing at thirteen, at ten, at seven. She’s a lot smarter than you give her credit for.”

“It’s not about smartness. It’s about vulnerability. She’s naive because she’s never had to think about the dangers she’s going to encounter in future. She’s clever, and she knows right from wrong, but she’s reckless at times. She forgets to think with her smart brain and goes around giving me heart attacks.”

“She needs her space. She needs to learn from her own mistakes-“

“And what if those mistakes cost her her life?” Natasha’s interruption was followed by silence as Yelena tried her best to find a response, but Natasha had always had a better track record at winning arguments.

“The chances are small-“

“I’m not taking any chances”, Natasha protested angrily, Yelena sighing in defeat. “I know you’re trying to help and I’m so thankful for that, but I have this feeling that I can’t shake. I feel like something is going to happen to her, like that vision wasn’t just an image in my head, but a premonition.”

“Natasha…” Yelena’s features formed into a pleading frown.

“No, I mean it.”

“It’s messing with your head. It’s not a premonition. It’s not a sign of anything. It’s your biggest fear. That’s why you saw it. There’s no other reason”, Yelena tried desperately, but Natasha wasn’t listening, her pig-headed character unwilling to give room to Yelena’s words. “You’ll either have to take away her fun or deal with these emotions yourself. There’s no other option.” Natasha stared at the ceiling with the blankest expression Yelena had seen on her since their days in the Red Room.

“Or then I can take all the threats in the world down one by one.” Natasha’s brows knitted together in a pensive frown.

“Ty psikh (you’re crazy)”, Yelena muttered in defeat, sighing heavily, earning a mild slap in the arm from Natasha. “Have you considered therapy?”

“No.”

“Consider it.”

“Da ladno, dostatchno (alright, enough).” Natasha sat up from the couch, giving her sister a good glare with her puffy, red eyes before standing up, Liho growling in disappointment when its perfectly warm sleeping spot had been taken away from it. She glanced at the clock, noting that it was nearing seven in the evening. If you had decided to listen to your mother, you were to arrive home in the next thirty minutes. Natasha sighed heavily, recalling all the homework you had, and the dinner that didn’t exist, but you were definitely expecting. She turned to Yelena, her features softening.

“Will you make sure Y/N finds herself food and goes to bed on time when she comes home? I need to be alone for a while. Maybe I’ll get some sleep.”

“Yes, of course. Go to bed. I’ll take care of her.” Yelena nodded, giving Natasha’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go of her.

“Spasibo, dorogaya (thank you, darling).”

“Konechno (of course).”

You came home fifteen minutes later, just like Natasha had expected you to. She could hear the loud bang of the door and your bubbly voice filled with excitement as you made your way into the kitchen to look for her. Instead, you found Yelena, which was clearly nothing but a good surprise, but it wasn’t enough to distract you from the lack of Natasha’s presence.

“Where’s mom?” Your voice carried rather clearly all the way from the living room to Natasha’s bedroom where she lay under covers, curled up into a small ball, feeling immense guilt for not being able to care for you that night.

“She went to bed.” Yelena’s voice sounded casual, like nothing was out of the ordinary, but you knew better than to believe that your mother was tired enough to sleep at seven-thirty in the evening.

“Why? Is she sick?”

“No, she’s not sick. She’s just tired”, Yelena explained patiently, the sound of pots and plates filling the kitchen. “What do you want to eat?”

“You’re making dinner?” The tone of your voice brought a hint of a smile on Natasha’s face.

“Well, yeah.” Yelena sounded slightly appalled by your disbelief.

“You can’t cook.”

“Yes, I can.”

“We don’t have box mac and cheese. Mom hates that stuff”, you said knowingly, receiving a sigh from Yelena.

“That woman.” Natasha could imagine the look on Yelena’s face. “Well, what am I supposed to feed you then? I can’t cook.” Your laughter echoed softly from the kitchen, Natasha’s eyelids sliding shut as she continued to listen to the perfectly domestic conversation you were having, thankful that she had a distraction from all the dark thoughts inside her head. “Can you?”

“Probably better than you.” There was so much sass in your tone that Natasha had to hide her face in her pillow to contain the little grin that found her face. You were rapidly turning into a confident, witty girl that had great potential to be an absolute menace to the people around you. “Which is concerning, if you ask me.” Natasha was once again reminded of how good of a job she had done with you, proud that you were there to banter with her sister whenever Natasha couldn’t do so herself. “I think I’ll make sandwiches. Oh! And I’ll put chips inside.”

“Chips?”

“Yeah. They’re crunchy.”

“I know what chips are”, Yelena huffed, both of you laughing in unison.

“Wait, don’t give that to Liho. She’s gonna have diarrhea”, you giggled, the sound drowned out by Liho’s pleading meows. Natasha wanted to groan from annoyance, thinking about the poor floorboards that she would have to mop if Yelena was giving out free, not-cat-approved treats to Liho, but she couldn’t deny the fact that something about it all was too wholesome. “Do you think mom wants one too?” Based on the constant opening and closing of the fridge you were pulling out ingredients for your chip-sandwiches, Natasha’s heart swelling up with the love and affection she felt for you at your question.

“I’m sure she would love to have one if she’s not asleep yet.”

“I’ll make one, just in case.”

Natasha drifted into unconsciousness as she listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen, the rustle of the bag of chips, the sound of the toaster, cupboards and plates, all lulling her to sleep, the weight of the emotional burden on her shoulders slowly pushing her under. She remained in a vacillating state of consciousness for a long while as you and Yelena spent the night together doing your homework. It wasn’t until well after nine that you snuck into her room to see how she was doing. You tiptoed into the darkness of her bedroom, squinting a bit to try to see if she was awake or not, but all you found was a mother-sized lump on the bed where Natasha was sound asleep, her face partly hidden by her pillow.

“Mom”, you whispered carefully, just to make sure she really was asleep. You glanced down at the small plate in your hand, her sandwich sitting there, waiting to be eaten. You frowned in disappointment, turning around and taking the food back into the kitchen as Liho snuck into the room and found a place to sleep beside Natasha’s head. She really must have been tired because she never slept so early. She was a night owl and an early bird at the same time. Sometimes you felt like you barely even saw her sleep. You returned to the room empty-handed, coming to her side, your fingers finding her face to push back some of her hair, just like she always did with you.

“Good night, mom. I hope you feel better tomorrow”, you whispered, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.” You backed away from her, looking at her for a moment with a sudden grimness that you couldn’t explain. You felt pain and sadness, but you didn’t know where it came from or what had caused it. She wasn’t okay, you knew that, despite the fact that the thought had yet to reach your conscious mind. Natasha wasn’t as happy as she used to be, or, for all you knew, maybe she never had been truly happy, and you were just becoming more aware of the challenges she had in her life.

You exited the room, saying good night to Yelena before climbing into your bed for the night. You thought about Natasha’s suggestion of moving into the city, moving away from the life you were just getting old enough to be a part of. You hadn’t really given it much thought since she had brought it up last November, having rejected the idea without hesitation, but you were slowly starting to find room for it, and actually consider what it would entail. You had never even imagined life outside of advanced technology, and you had never imagined a future away from being involved with the almighty Avengers because they were your family. It was your life, it had always been, but Natasha’s suggestion was suddenly introducing you to a whole new world of opportunities. You would get to live in the city, live a life of a normal child, away from superhero commotion. You would get to be like the children that you saw in movies and on TV. You would get a whole new start if you went to school in the big city. You would get the chance to see what teenage years in New York City had to offer you. There was no use in pretending that the thought wasn’t intriguing, but it also scared you. Change came with uncertainty, it came with the possibility of misery, which actively steered you away from taking the risk of starting a new life, but the sadness that you felt for your mother lingered inside you as you recalled what she had said about wanting to move away. She wanted to leave. She hadn’t suggested the idea for nothing. She didn’t feel good at the compound anymore. She needed more. She needed change, and maybe, just maybe you needed it too.

Chapter 46: Final straw

Chapter Text

Your head hurt, a steady throb present in your frontal lobe, eyes stinging from how tired you were as you stared blankly ahead at the smart board in your classroom. You had slept all too poorly the night before, anxiety and nightmares keeping you up for the most of it. It had become a rather common combination since Wanda’s labor well over a year ago, but thankfully the worst of it seemed to have passed by then. You still suffered from vivid nightmares at times, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. You knew they were dreams and you knew they were going to stay that way, no matter how much your anxiety tried to tell you otherwise. The nightmares didn’t exactly bother you, but the occasional sleepless nights did weigh you down rather effectively at times. You hid your yawn behind your hand, wishing with your whole heart that you could drop your head to the desk and close your eyes without getting called on by the teacher. You were so tired. You just wanted to sleep. The lesson lasted for an eternity, time passing painstakingly slowly, lulling you into an intense state of such boredom that the ring of the school bell wasn’t enough to pull you out of it. Class was dismissed, but you just stared ahead, feeling too heavy to move from your spot as others filed out of the class in a hurry to escape the wonderful world of chemistry. You heard someone come to your side, a hand touching your arm.

“Y/N, come on”, Charlotte said, attempting to usher you to get moving. You blinked your eyes a couple of times to bring them back into focus, your gaze finding her blue eyes. “I wanna go to the tree stump. I heard Jeremy’s gonna be there.” You sighed in defeat, but got up anyway, packing your things so that you could join Charlotte at the tree stump where your classmates had a habit of playing spin the bottle. You weren’t exactly a fan of such games, but you liked to support your friend’s pathetic attempts to chase after her crush.

You trudged after Charlotte through the football field, locating the old tree stump with ease, a large ring of pupils already gathered around it by the time you arrived. You squeezed yourselves into the circle, your eyes going over each familiar face to see who was participating that day. To your surprise you found a face more familiar than others in the crowd, your eyes landing on Makena who sat a few feet away from you with her newest friends, giggling quietly with a girl who you had barely spoken to. She was tall and had a similar style to Makena’s, the overly glossed brown lips and long braids something that you had come to associate with both her and Makena. That girl –Madeline– had infiltrated herself into Makena’s friend group and eventually slowly sidelined you by being a thousand times more interesting than you, and a thousand times prettier than you. There was no use denying the fact that you were jealous. But the reason you were surprised to see her there wasn’t because of her new friend, but because Darren was nowhere in sight. Taken girls rarely dared to play such games. You eventually averted your eyes from them, focusing back on Charlotte who was trying to keep her eyes on her crush. You had no one in the circle. You didn’t care to be there at all. In fact, you thought it was one of the dumbest things that had come out of modern society.

The yard was filled with loud laughter and cackles from all the kids pumped up with excitement, longing to find an excuse to lock lips with their stupid crushes. You had no interest in taking part in such activities, even less so when you happened to have no crush, but you would rather be there than mope alone around the school yard.

“Ally’s turn!” One of the kids announced, your eyes shifting to a girl with bright pink braces. You knew Ally but you never really got along with her that well. She spun the bottle, all of you watching the cork with a certain intensity to avoid missing who it was going to land on. It spun and spun, starting to slow down, eventually coming to a stop, the mouth of the bottle pointing at a boy with an ugly cap and an even uglier shirt. You looked down at your hands, picking on a hangnail that was on your ring finger, the skin tab peeling back enough to make you bleed. You heard the kids cheer, heard them laugh, your face remaining level with impressive consistency. “Next!” You checked your phone for the time, displeased to see that you had another twenty minutes of recess left. You watched Jess and Mike kiss, then Ally and Jeremy, then Nick and Brady, Maddy and Laurie, Laurie and Annie, the list went on. To your utter demise, your turn rolled around after a few more rounds, your hand reaching for the bottle rather reluctantly. You spun it with little to no enthusiasm, vehemently denying the fact that there was a specific someone who you wished the bottle to land upon. You wanted to deny the desire you felt. You didn’t want to give it room in your mind, too afraid of what it might mean. But you couldn’t deny the fact that you were desperately hoping for the bottle to land on her, so you would get to kiss her instead of all the other people in the ring. But rarely did you get what you wanted, the mouth of the bottle pointing at Brady. You sighed, crawling closer to him on the muddy ground, purposely missing his lips when you pecked him on the cheek. You got booed and received a plethora of complaints for being so lame, but you had no energy to care, your eyes flicking to Makena as you found your way back to your designated spot in the ring.

You still couldn’t understand what she was doing there, your confusion only intensifying when you saw her spin the bottle a few rounds later. It landed on Jackson, one of the most insufferable boys you had ever encountered in your life, your eyes widening in mild shock, face forming into an empathetic grimace. You knew how Makena felt about Jackson. You knew exactly how much she didn’t like him, and she had more than a few good reasons. Their history had been rocky ever since your first year of middle school when he had done his best to bully her in the name of having a crush. There was sudden tension in the air, the bad kind of tension as everyone waited for Makena to kiss Jackson, who seemed all too smug about getting a kiss. Makena scrunched her nose, moving a bit closer, but there was no mistaking her disgust.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” Nick began in a rhythmic chant, the other kids joining him immediately. Makena looked uncomfortable. She looked downright scared which came to you as a shock. You hadn’t seen a look so uncomfortable on her probably ever in your life. She didn’t move, and when she didn’t move, Brady shoved her into Jackson’s arms. “Kiss! Kiss!” You felt the horrified frown that formed onto your face. They were all supposed to be friends, the alarming behavior of the group coming off as anything but friendly. For god’s sake, you were eighth graders, they all should have known better.

“Stop!” Your voice pierced through the ominous chanting, Brady turning around to look at you with a confused frown, his arms halting in the process of pushing Makena into Jackson. “She doesn’t have to kiss.”

“Yes, she does. Those are the rules”, Jackson groaned as if you were too slow to understand the game.

“I don’t care. If she doesn’t want to, then she doesn’t have to.” You stood up from your spot to go help Makena.

“Sit down, dumbass. It’s just a kiss”, Nick moaned, rolling his eyes before bringing his hand to his face, shaking his head in disbelief to show you what an idiot you were.

“Just let her do her thing”, Madeline sighed in annoyance. “It’s one kiss.”

“If it’s just one kiss then what does it matter if she doesn’t do it?” You countered, feeling fed up with their behavior.

“You’re like mentally challenged, aren’t you?” Madeline looked at you with an unimpressed frown that was leaning more toward demeaning.

“You’re one to talk!” Charlotte’s voice sounded behind you. You glanced back at her, trying to give her a small smile to show her how grateful you were, but you felt too tense to execute the gesture properly.

“Come on, Makena”, you said almost pleadingly, offering your hand to her so you could pull her out of the ridiculous game. She looked at you with those huge brown eyes, a sad frown on her face.

“Oh my god, leave her alone”, Madeline piped up again, getting off the ground to come to Makena’s side. She turned to you, her threatening stance coming off as a warning to you, but you refused to listen.

“What’s your problem?” You asked earnestly, wishing to understand what Makena saw in Madeline because all you were seeing was a jerk.

“You’re such a lesbian. Why are you so obsessed with her?”

“I’m not, nor am I obsessed with her. She’s my friend.” You could feel your patience wear thin, anger bubbling up inside you no matter how much you tried to prevent her words from getting to you. Madeline laughed.

“Right. She’d never be friends with someone like you.” It was true, you knew that, but something in you didn’t allow you to back down even if you and Makena had strayed away from each other.

“Well, we used to be. Doesn’t matter. You’re not forcing her to do sh*t.” Madeline looked at you for a long moment.

“Are you like in love with her or something?” She had a permanent sneer on her face, her intense eyes staring you down, but you had little patience for her childish bullying.

“What? No. You call me slow but can’t even keep up with conversation.” She seemed appalled by your response, taking a moment to find something to say.

“Whatever, lesbo.” Your hand flew faster than you even realized, connecting with her face so hard she fell to the ground from both the shock and the impact. You heard a collective gasp around you, your eyes moving down to your hand as if you couldn’t quite process what you’d done. You were so tired, so unbelievably tired, all your emotions rushing up to the surface. You averted your eyes, refraining from meeting anyone’s gaze as you exited the ring, walking away from the kids who all went to Madeline’s aid, all except one.

You finally came to a stop by the edge of the school yard, sitting down on a nearby bench as kids ran back to class after hearing the ring of the bell. You couldn’t be bothered. You weren’t going back to class. You were going straight home as soon as Madeline would open that big mouth of hers anywhere near a teacher. You stared at the ground, letting your tears fall since no one was there to see them, your chest squeezing harshly from how much you hurt. You wanted home and you wanted your mother more than a fourteen-year-old kid dared to admit, your fingers itching to dig up your phone to call Natasha, but before you could, the nearing sound of shoes on gravel caught your attention. You lifted your eyes up to see Makena approach you a bit hesitantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You couldn’t hold her gaze for longer than a few seconds, reminded of how poorly you had behaved. You had made such a fool out of yourself.

“Thanks for being on my side”, Makena said quietly, taking a seat beside you, her brand new, shiny sneakers coming into your view. She liked to stay on top of trends and modern fashion.

“You’re welcome.” Your tone was flat. What did it matter anyway? You weren’t friends anymore and all you had done was fight for nothing. Makena stayed quiet and so did you.

“It wouldn’t matter if you were, by the way. A lesbian, I mean”, Makena spoke suddenly, your anger only flaring at the mention of your public humiliation.

“I’m not.”

“I know, but I’m just saying.” You both stayed quiet for a long time, your shoes kicking the gravel softly to fill in the awkward, stagnant silence that surrounded you. It wasn’t until you got truly uncomfortable that you managed to spark up a conversation again.

“Why are you friends with her?” You didn’t look at her, just stared at the ground, your eyes itchy from lack of sleep and salty tears. Makena struggled to find an answer for you, at least one that didn’t sound completely ridiculous when said out loud. She couldn’t exactly tell why she had chosen to spend time with Madeline. Things just somehow ended up that way. She let out a soft hum.

“I guess I wanted to be something I’m not.” You bit the inside of your lip to control your anger and disappointment, deciding to hear her out.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I could be one of those loud, bold girls. Those who turn heads, instead of who I used to be, or I guess, who I still am.” She sounded sad, like she was just as miserable as you were. “I’m just the girl who gets picked on. The girl who gets bullied cause she’s an easy target.” It was true. It had always been true, although Makena had become better at defending herself, but you could still see the timid girl in her, the girl who you had always loved and protected.

“I get that, but what did I ever do to you?” You turned to look at her, your teary eyes meeting Makenas glossy ones.

“Nothing.” There was a long silence that followed, your eyes moving back to the ground beneath your shoes. “I’ve been such a jackass to you, and I didn’t even have a good reason to be. I just thought if I pretended that my old life didn’t exist that I could just be someone else.” It didn’t hurt any less to know why she had done it. If you were being honest, it hurt more because it had apparently been intentional. You hadn’t grown apart simply because your interests clashed, but because she had wanted to get rid of you.

“It’s good to know where you stand.” Your voice was hoarse, your pain bleeding into your tone. “You could’ve just told me you didn’t want to be friends instead of slowly pushing me away. It would’ve hurt way less. Just… for future reference.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to be friends-”

“I was just in the way.” You could hear just how bitterly you said the words, your throat squeezing shut.

“No. I just… I don’t know. I’m really sorry.” You could tell that Makena was trying her best to somehow justify what she had done, but it was evident to the both of you that there were no excuses.

“I’m not what you want. It’s fine. I get it.” It hurt to admit it to yourself when you had spent hours obsessively convincing yourself that there was still hope, that there was still room for you in her life, in her family, only to find out that your mind was filled with nothing but delusions.

“No… Look, um. There’s something I have to tell you.” The tone of her voice piqued your interests, your head turning to face her. “So, back when me and Darren started going out, I told him… You know we talked about stuff we had done and all that. And I told him I’d kissed someone before.” You averted your eyes. You couldn’t even look at her when you recalled the tiny, innocent kiss you had shared over three years ago. “He didn’t like that very much, so he told me to stop hanging out with you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What were you doing at the tree stump anyways?” You asked, your disdain toward Darren more than clear from the way you spoke.

“We broke up.” Your eyes widened. Surely you would have heard such news, but then again, Makena hadn’t exactly been actively friends with you for ages.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was an ass. You were always right about him”, she said with an amused smile.

“I have a tendency to be.”

“Maddy knows about the kiss too. That’s why she was being mean. She was just trying to find something hurtful to say. She doesn’t know much about you, but I did tell you that you kissed me and not the other way around.”

“Wow, thanks.” You were kind of speechless for all the secrets that were rising to the surface. You looked at the school yard, for the first time pleased to know that there was a way out for you. Middle school was coming to an end, and suddenly moving to another city didn’t sound as bad as it had before. You could just leave. You could leave all your loser classmates behind. You could leave Makena behind. You could just go. You wanted to go.

“Hey! Ms. Davies back to class right now!” Both of your heads turned to look at the teacher by the school doors, her loud voice echoing across the yard. “Romanoff, you’re going home!” Of course, you were, and you were nothing but grateful for that. Makena didn’t seem to pay much attention to the teacher, her attention still on you.

“There’s nothing I can do to make up for everything, is there?” You felt hesitant, your anger clouding your desires. You wanted to hurt her back, make her feel what you felt, make her see just how poorly you had been treated, but at the same time you did your best to recognize the fact that she was even acknowledging your pain, that she was trying, asking for forgiveness. You turned to look at her, a pensive frown on your face. You knew what your mother would have said, you knew she would have wanted you to give Makena a chance, the presence of a very critical breaking point adding to the pressure you felt.

“I don’t know. I think I need some time.”

“Okay.” She looked sad, like she had expected you to take her back with open arms. The thought angered you. She had become such an ungrateful girl. You stood up, uninterested in any further conversation when all you wanted was to go home.

“Well, I’m glad I could save you from Jackson again.” You gave her a small smile which she returned immediately.

“Thank you… seriously. He’s so gross.”

“I know.” You chuckled softly. “Also, tell Maddy to take a look in the mirror. I see the way she looks at that other girl you hang out with. Um, Desiré right?”

“Yeah, Riri.” Makena giggled. You couldn’t tell if she took your comment seriously, but you had without a doubt said it in all seriousness.

“I’ll see you around.” You gave her a small wave before heading back to the school, Makena remaining on the bench as if taking some time for herself to process the events. You didn’t even look back at her, hurrying to the teacher who was patiently waiting for you, ready to guide you into the principal’s office where you would wait for Natasha’s arrival.

Your mother wasn’t happy with you which surely came as a surprise to no one, but instead of trying to act like you stood behind your dumb decision or pretended that her anger was misplaced, you simply fell right into her arms the second she set foot into the principal’s office. You didn’t care that she was mad, or that the principal was looking, you just wanted mommy, regardless of anything else that was going on because she was the only thing that could comfort you and shelter you from the sh*tty day you were having. You had faith that she was willing to push aside her anger and recognize that you hadn’t done what you had done with the intention of being stupid and reckless, even if your track record wasn’t exactly spotless. She welcomed you into her embrace, looking at the principal for a proper explanation to your reaction that was very obviously loaded with hurt which no one had informed her about. Her stern frown turned from angry to confused before fading away completely, her stoic face remaining level. The principal seemed slightly uncomfortable to be observed by Natasha’s intimidating gaze.

“What’s going on?” She asked evenly, holding you tightly against her chest, your chin resting on her shoulder, her hand rubbing your back softly.

“Y/N has inflicted physical violence on other students completely unprompted”, the principal stated rather formally as he stood up from his chair to come greet her properly. “We do not accept behavior of this sort in this school.” Natasha ignored his annoying formalities, refusing to shake his hand. She pulled back from you just enough to see your face.

“Unprompted?” Natasha knew her own daughter. She could see the tears in your eyes as you held vehemently onto them. You shook your head to answer her question, Natasha’s attention shifting back to the principal. “Completely unprompted, you say?”

“I’m not aware of the details, this is simply what I’ve been told.” He had an air of condescension to him, like he had a personal goal of being as annoying as possible.

“And who told you?” Natasha challenged.

“Madeline Souza, the girl she slapped across the face so hard she fell and hit her head on a tree stump.” You froze in your mother’s arms, unaware of just how hard you had hit Madeline. You didn’t even want to hear what Natasha had to say about it, especially when she had already expressed to you how much she wasn’t a fan of playground fights. You felt her move as she gently pushed you away from her to hopefully find out what had really happened during recess.

“Did you?”

“What do you mean ‘did she’? She wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t.” It was like he couldn’t resist butting in.

“I’m asking my daughter”, Natasha countered coldly, giving him an annoyed look before her eyes found yours again. She seemed to pause for a moment, clearly in thought. “Could you excuse us for a moment? I want to hear her side of the story first.” The principal looked appalled by such a request but followed her orders regardless, his bushy brows knitted together as he shook his head in disapproval, walking out the door. You looked meek as you stood there, your arms hugging your middle, waiting to have her undivided attention. “What happened?” You moved to the side where there was an empty bench, taking a seat to get more comfortable, Natasha following suit.

“We were playing spin the bottle.” A faint look of disbelief crossed Natasha’s face, like she already had an idea where the story was headed. “And it was Makena’s turn. The bottle landed on Jackson.” Natasha’s brows rose in surprise. She knew who Jackson was and she had heard more than enough about his improper behavior during your middle school years. “Makena didn’t want to, but everyone kept pressuring her, so I stepped in cause no one had her back and it’s such a stupid game anyway.” Natasha followed intently the unfolding of the events as you told her all the details you found relevant, explaining what Madeline had said before admitting to having done wrong by resorting to violence. Natasha had a rather sad frown on her face, like she saw something that you couldn’t in the insult that had been launched at you. She grasped your hand, holding it between her own as she gathered her thoughts.

“You did the right thing. Not by hitting her, of course, but I’m proud of you for stepping in and defending Makena”, she said quietly. “We’ll sort this out, malyshka (baby). You’ll say you’re sorry and you’ll explain yourself. It’ll be alright.” She pulled you closer, kissing your forehead a few times.

“Okay.” You leaned into her, closing your eyes to savor the moment of silence before you would be shoved into the spotlight. It all went in a blur: the arguing, the apology, the sanction. You didn’t really care all that much about being suspended for a few days. It didn’t matter. You were too upset to care that you had disappointed your mother, lost a friend, and gotten suspended all in one day. You didn’t have it in you to care. When you finally made it to the car and slammed the passenger side door shut, you had made your decision. You turned to Natasha, who was just starting up the car, and made your statement.

“I want to move to Manhattan.” Natasha turned to you in surprise, not having expected you to have anything of the sort on your mind.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I just… I don’t want any of this. I don’t want the people. I don’t want this stupid school. I don’t wanna go to high school with them. I don’t wanna see any of them ever again”, you said quietly, your voice carrying the gentle tremor that you could still feel in your hands.

“I’m sorry, honey”, Natasha hummed, pulling you closer to kiss your head. “I’ll start looking for high schools.”

“Mom, I know you’ve already done that.” You chuckled softly, leaning closer to the touch of her hand.

“What? How’d you know that?” She had a small smirk of excitement on her face.

“I saw that you had a tab open for Manhattan High School for Girls. And just, by the way, I’m not going to an all-girls’ school.” You gave her a small frown as if to chastise her for the thought alone, but Natasha merely smiled, her fingers brushing back your hair.

“It’s supposedly a five-star school.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna be one of those weirdos that never learn to hang out with boys, and by the time they start looking for a husband they realize they don’t even know how to talk to boys.” Natasha gave you a long look, eyeing you for a moment as you just stared back, clearly serious about your hypothetical predicament.

“Right, cause that’s what you’ll be looking for”, she muttered to herself, shifting the gear to get ready for the drive home.

“What?”

“Nothing, baby.” Natasha pulled fully away from you, but you didn’t let her go just yet.

“Wait, just a moment longer”, you whined, tugging her closer so you could stay in her arms. She squeezed you tightly, kissing your hair again.

“I did look into other schools as well, and I was obviously going to consult you about my top picks”, Natasha assured you, rubbing your arm comfortingly.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, we’ll look at the options together from now on.” Her hand caressed the side of your cheek as you nodded your head.

“And apartments too.”

“Absolutely.” There was a moment of silence as you both thought about the possibilities that your future held, Natasha speaking up again after thinking things through a little more. “You know that there’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian, right?” You pulled back to look at her, a small frown on your face.

“Why do people keep saying that?” You were genuinely confused. First Makena and then your mother. Why did they even care about such a thing when it was unrelated to you? Madeline had just said it to be mean. You heard it all the time with boys. They would call each other gay and tease others for being what they would consider gay. It didn’t actually mean anything.

“Um…” Natasha looked at you, trying to figure out what to say, what to do. If you weren’t ready, then you weren’t ready, and she should not intervene, but you poor thing were living a life of delusions. “I just want to make sure you know. It’s a stupid thing to make fun of, and I don’t want you adopting any ridiculous ideologies like that.”

“Don’t worry, mom.” You chuckled quietly. “I’m not dumb like them.” You rolled your eyes, Natasha’s lips stretching into a grin.

“No, you’re not.” You received one more kiss on your forehead before she drove away.

Chapter 47: Letting go

Chapter Text

“Wait, wait, wait. Go back. I wanna see the bathroom.” You leaned closer to the laptop Natasha was operating, eager to see the pictures provided of a penthouse apartment you and her were looking at on a real estate website. You were on the living room couch, having decided to spend a lazy Sunday morning there since you had nothing better to do.

“Honey, I don’t want this one. It’s too crowded and narrow. I want something more open. The living room needs to fit this couch. I’m not leaving without it”, Natasha whined, causing you to roll your eyes in amusem*nt.

“I just wanna see it for inspiration. I wanna design my own bathroom”, you explained, hearing a small sigh from Natasha as she slid the computer over to you, focusing on Liho who was demanding her attention by nudging the screen with its little snout. Liho too wanted to be a part of the process. Natasha picked the cat up like it was a tiny baby and lifted it to her chest so she could hold it for a moment as you scrolled through the pictures, taking mental notes of what you liked and disliked. Liho purred quietly, trying to hop out of Natasha’s embrace, but when it discovered the attempts to be futile, the cat settled down, curling into a ball against her breasts. She kissed its warm head, scratching it behind its ears, whispering insults to the cat in a soft croon that was nothing short of loving.

You were getting somewhere in the process of establishing a life in New York City. You had decided on a high school for you after a long conversation about the differences between public and private schools. You wanted to be as normal as possible. You wanted to get the most mundane New York experience possible even though you couldn’t exactly tell why. You had failed to talk your mother out of enrolling you into a private school, but she did agree to choose a school that wasn’t the highest-ranking school in New York. You had found a training place for yourself in Brooklyn where you could take intense, high-level kickboxing lessons not too far away from school, which would allow you to go there by yourself after classes. You and Natasha had everything in order, everything except your living situation. If all else failed you were always welcome to stay at the Avengers tower, but neither of you seemed to be quite satisfied with it. You didn’t know if you wanted to still remain attached to the Avengers and the high-technology life of chaos, or if you wanted to leave it behind completely. Natasha didn’t seem to have made a solid decision either, even though everything else had been decided.

You had been going through apartments consistently for weeks, but nothing really seemed to cover everything that you were looking for in a living situation. If the apartment had a good location, it was more than likely that the pricing was through the roof, and the interior was less than appealing. Natasha seemed to lean more toward the luxurious penthouses, but you thought that they were too much for the two of you. You couldn’t imagine bringing your new friends to a place so over the top. You wanted something cozy and comfortable with a nice view out the window, but that seemed to be the case all too rarely.

“Can you show me the apartment we could have at the tower? I really like the location. It’s close to Central Park, and Rockefeller, and Times Square. All the cool places.” Natasha chuckled, reaching her hand for the laptop to switch the tab, finding her email to show you the pictures that had been sent to her.

“We can do anything we want to the interior, although I don’t think there’s much I’d change. Maybe add some color here and here. It’s looking a bit gray right now”, she mused, speaking into Liho’s black fur as she nuzzled her nose against the cat.

“Yeah. I don’t like the sleek surfaces that much. It looks too clinical.” Natasha nodded her head in agreement.

“Thankfully those can be changed into something a bit more elegant.” You looked at the pictures again, switching to the map of Manhattan to see the location again, checking distances between your school and practice to make sure that it was the best option location-wise.

You thought about it all, really thought about it, going through all the opportunities and features the tower had to offer. You knew Tony visited it a lot, and Steve stayed there sometimes when he was visiting Brooklyn. Yelena and Kate had taken a liking to New York and went there often just to spend some time together. Clint had always loved the city. You thought about it all even more the following day, and the day after that. The thought of maintaining a fraction of your old life felt comforting. You wanted to live in the middle of a meeting spot for all your family members. You wanted to be in a place where everyone could come together once more even if it wasn’t as often as you would have wished it to be. The idea of the Avengers tower lingered in your mind, day by day feeling more and more promising. You could already envision your future bedroom; you could see it all so clearly. You knew where you would put Liho’s cat tree, where you would place your bed, your table, your things. And finally on the day of your graduation ceremony, you finally voiced out your concerns to your mother as you were driving to your middle school for the final time ever.

“Mom… I think the tower is our best option.” You turned to look at her, unable to not pay attention to how nice she looked with her dress and makeup.

“Yeah?” She had an expectant smirk on her lips as if she was trying to hold back a wide grin. You couldn’t resist your own, giving her a toothy smile.

“Yeah, I wanna move there.”

“That’s it then, myshka (little mouse). We’re moving to the tower.” You couldn’t stop grinning, your eyes finding the side mirror of the car, catching a glimpse of your joyous features. You were getting out, you were moving on, leaving behind everyone and everything that no longer served your interests. The rest of the car ride was filled with effervescent talk about your plans for the apartment, for your life together, the promise of a new beginning providing you both such liberating comfort that it was almost hard to contain your excitement.

“We’re doing it. We’re actually doing it!” You cheered as you stepped out of the car, Natasha doing the same. She walked over to you with a huge smile on her face, her arms engulfing you in a huge hug the second she was close enough to reach you.

“We are, malyshka (baby). We are.” She kissed your beautifully styled hair, pulling back to see your face. She glanced at the school, a bunch of people entering through the gates, her smile turning a bit more vulnerable. “I’m so proud of you, kroshka (little one). Never forget that. When you go up there today and receive your diploma, just know that I’ve never been prouder.” She cupped your cheeks, holding you for a moment as you nodded your head, unable to do anything but smile. “Ya tebya ljublju, dushenka (I love you, sweetheart).”

“Ya tebya ljublju bolshe (I love you more).” She pressed a firm kiss on your forehead, wiping off the lipstick residue it left behind before your attention shifted to a white car that pulled up behind your parking spot, the Maximoffs stepping out. They were followed by Steve, Clint, and the Starks who all came with their respective rides. Your smile only widened, Natasha letting go of you so you could go greet your family. She watched you fall into Wanda’s arms, her heart aching slightly at the sight. Natasha was still hurting, she could never truly push aside the pain that coursed through her even after all that time, but as she watched you sway in Wanda’s embrace, her hand brushing delicately over your hairstyle, Natasha felt a twinge of disappointment for the grudge she couldn’t seem to let go of. You were moving on. You had forgiven Wanda ages ago, in fact, you had never truly even resented her. Natasha ought to have taken an example of you.

“Hey”, Natasha hummed softly as she took slow steps to follow after you, her eyes meeting with Wanda’s, Vision helping out the nineteen-month-old boys that waited impatiently in their car seats. Wanda’s attention shifted fully to Natasha. They hadn’t seen each other properly in a few months because Wanda and Vision had been busy planning their future around the children that took up most of their free time, not that Natasha had had any complaints. It had only given her an excuse to uphold her negative attitude, but it was time for her to overcome it, to move on, to make up, so that she could have a clean conscience to go with her fresh start.

“Hi. The day has finally come.” Wanda spoke softly, a hint of reverence in her tone when she glanced your way.

“It has.” Natasha nodded softly, focusing on you for just a moment because it was easier than facing Wanda. “She’s all grown up, it seems.”

“Well not quite yet, but we’re getting there.” Wanda brushed her knuckles over your cheek as you smiled there like an idiot, your attention soon stolen by Steve who lifted you into the air and spun you around a few times. He still treated you like you were a small child. It was comforting, his excessive strength never failing to make you smile.

“I swear I blinked… and now she’s already out of middle school.” There was a hint of despair in Natasha’s tone. She couldn’t understand how time moved so ruthlessly with no regard for her sentimentality. She wanted to keep you small, keep you with her for as long as possible, yet no one was asking for what she wanted. Time was going to pass despite how tightly she held onto you.

“It’s kind of scary, isn’t it?” Wanda asked tentatively, still trying to gauge Natasha’s attitude, unsure whether she was fully welcomed or if Natasha was putting on a cordial front for your sake.

“So scary”, Natasha agreed immediately, her tone encouraging Wanda to trust her that much more. Maybe Natasha really was in a more forgiving mood than she had been before. They stayed silent for a moment, Natasha’s gaze finding Wanda’s face. “I’m glad you could come.”

“Me too. I wouldn’t wanna miss it for the world.” Wanda offered a soft smile to Natasha, both of them soon searching for a distraction from the others to help them get over the slight awkwardness that was in the air. You spotted Charlotte from the growing crowd, weaving your way through the people to get to her. You saw Makena as well, but didn’t bother to talk to her, or even greet her. You had nothing to say to her. She had betrayed you in more ways than one and you wanted nothing to do with her no matter what she would’ve done to try to gain your attention. Makena knew she had lost a good friend, perhaps the best she had ever had, due to superficial, childish behavior that you hadn’t deserved. You were moving on.

You found your way into the school auditorium, your family settling to the very back where they would hopefully go unnoticed. Steve had his signature ray-bans to hide his identity, although his impressive physique was much harder to ignore than his face. Tony looked rather mundane with Pepper and Morgan, managing to blend in almost as efficiently as Clint and the Maximoff family. At the end of the day very few people would recognize them, and even fewer would dare to do anything about it. You spotted them easily from your seat at the front, waving at your mother discreetly, feeling excitement bubble in your chest. The small graduation ceremony was quite long and boring. Your school had a lot of students who each got called to the front after a few music performances, some getting additional awards for their hard work at school. You were getting no awards because you punched a kid and did the bare minimum at school, but you didn’t mind it. You weren’t there to excel, you were there to learn. You watched each and every kid from your class walk across the stage, seeing them all for one last time. You noted many of the girls you had tried to befriend, some you had talked to for a while before realizing you would not get along. You saw Makena, you saw Madeleine, you saw every single person you wanted to leave behind, excluding Charlotte. After a long list of names, the principal finally moved on to last names starting with the letter R, soon enough reaching your name.

“Romanoff, Y/N!” You got up from your seat, biting back your smile as you hurried to the front to go get your report card and receive a single rose, just like everyone else had. You shook hands with a few of your teachers, settling beside your classmates at the back of the stage where you would sing a goodbye song to the rest of the school. You squeezed your way to Charlotte even though you weren’t supposed to change places, but you would much rather be next to her instead of Jackson and it wasn’t like anyone was going to protest in the middle of the ceremony. You gave Charlotte a smile, the girl whispering a quick comment to you before you both focused back on the principal. Once your silly, little song was over and the booming clapping came to an end, you rushed out of the auditorium to find your family outside, welcomed by the heat of the sun as it caressed your skin, the warm wind making your dress flow beautifully around you. Natasha found you in that instance, pulling you to her in order to drown you in kisses and congratulations.

“You did it, solnishka (sunshine)! You’re going to high school.” She kissed you again. “My big girl.” And then you were being stolen away by everyone else, Natasha watching in great amusem*nt as you giggled loudly, receiving hugs and kisses left and right. Oh, to be surrounded by so much love. Natasha held the rose you had received in her hands, pressing it to her chest so she could smell the delicate, dark red petals. You were so loved, a part of her yearning to know what it was like, longing for even a sliver of the love you got to experience. Natasha noted the way Wanda looked at her, Wanda’s eyes going back and forth between her and you hugging Clint. Wanda took a tentative step to Natasha, who turned her attention to Wanda. There could never be too much love in one’s life, there was no such thing as too much love. Natasha had a year and half’s worth of resentment toward Wanda behind her. It was time to let go. And before Natasha would let her mind protest, she brought Wanda into a hug, holding her tightly for a moment.

“I forgive you.” Natasha’s words lifted a huge weight off Wanda’s chest, the air suddenly flowing just a little smoother into her lungs. Wanda tightened her embrace on Natasha, lingering in the hug for as long as she would be allowed to.

“Thank you.” Wanda pulled away immediately when she felt Natasha’s arms loosen around her, doing her best not to be pushy or clingy. Wanda was just so happy that her mistakes hadn’t cost her a friend, a family member. Natasha noticed the slight blush on Wanda’s cheeks, the glimmer in her eyes, the small pout.

“Shh, none of that.” Natasha gave a comforting squeeze to Wanda’s forearms, the latter chuckling almost apologetically, both of them sharing soft smiles before turning to the rest of the family to celebrate.

“Y/N! We’re leaving.” You turned around immediately at the sound of Charlotte’s voice.

“Hold on a sec.” You left the circle that was formed by your family, taking a few running steps toward the street, reaching Charlotte and going right in for a hug. “Goodbye.” You suddenly grew very emotional as you slowly realized that Charlotte was one of the only good friends you were leaving behind. Your heart ached. You had no friends.

“We’re gonna see each other over the summer. This isn’t goodbye”, Charlotte chuckled, pulling back to see your face.

“I know. It just feels… definitive.” She nodded in agreement, hugging you tightly once more before her mother ushered her to get to the car that was already running, ready to drive away. “Text me!” You hollered after her, waving your hand, receiving a couple waves in return from her family as she ran to the car with her red rose in her hand. You stayed and watched the car disappear from your sight before turning around to go back to your family, a girl with neat silk press curls and a light pink dress halting you in your tracks.

“What do you want?” You asked rather bluntly, your eyes straying to Natasha to see her talking with Vivienne. They hadn’t seen each other in ages as a result of you and Makena’s unraveling friendship. They seemed to have no problem, or at least not Vivienne, but you knew Natasha wasn’t exactly happy about everything Makena had done.

“I just wanted to say goodbye.” Makena seemed timid, her large, brown eyes looking at you pleadingly. She was fidgeting with her fingers, a habit that she never quite managed to get rid of no matter how much confidence she had gained. Although said confidence seemed to be nowhere in sight around you. She was fully aware that she had no chance with you.

“Okay, go ahead. Be quick. I have to go soon.” She seemed even more discouraged by your attitude but went on.

“I’m sorry… again, for how I treated you. It wasn’t fair, and I shouldn’t have done it. You were always such a good friend, and I don’t think I realized just how important you were until it was too late.” You felt your emotions flare. You were too hurt, your wounds too infected to hear such words from her. She should’ve said them to you ages ago, not as a last resort when you had already made peace with letting go of her.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” You sounded indifferent even to your own ear. Makena had had an entire month to try to rekindle your relationship but she had barely even spoken to you. There had been too many opportunities, really, yet she stuck with her clique. “Maybe if you weren’t so shallow you would’ve realized it sooner. Goodbye.” You walked right past her, leaving her to stand there by the curb, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’ll be in the car”, you informed Natasha as your hand went inside her purse to dig out the car keys, completely disregarding the conversation her and Vivienne were having. You didn’t want your day to be ruined, and thankfully Natasha seemed to be on the same track with you, letting you go without further explanation, the rest of your family getting ready to leave as well. You all had a lunch reservation to get to.

You put on music to drown out your thoughts, forcing yourself to be happy, forcing yourself to ignore the sadness and anger that seeing Makena brought you. It was supposed to be a happy day, and happy it would be. Natasha eventually came to the car, ready to follow the rest of your family to your chosen restaurant where you could have a small after party to celebrate the ending chapter of your lives. The music from the car speakers, the change of scenery, and the lively environment of the restaurant alongside your happy family allowed you to forget about Makena for a large portion of the day, but when the day turned into a night, you felt the sorrow creep up on you again. You were afraid, afraid of all the change that you had ahead of you. What would you do once school started again? High school. What if you would make no friends at all? It wasn’t like you were going to have a single person of your age in New York. You had no one, not even Charlotte who was going to a local high school near the middle school you had attended. You were no longer in touch with Savannah, the distance between you leading up to the shriveling of your friendship. The few of your friends from practice would also stay behind. You had no one. As exciting as moving away had seemed for the past month, you suddenly grew apprehensive, slowly but surely starting to doubt your confidence. Maybe you had just been delusional and imagined that things would go your way. You didn’t live in a movie; you weren’t some unique girl who was going to magically get what she wanted. It was very well possible that you would spend all four of your high school years sitting by yourself.

You scratched Liho, trying to find comfort in it to ease your anxiety, but there wasn’t much the black fur ball could do for you. There were no loose ends, everything had been tied neatly together. You felt detached, in-between lives. You didn’t know who you were, nor who you were supposed to be, not even who you wanted to be. You knew nothing, the scary, overwhelming unknown discouraging you more than you cared to admit. Liho blurred in your vision, turning into one unintelligible ball of nothing as your eyes pooled with tears. You were hurting so much, ripping yourself free of everything you knew only to face a big black abyss that you needed to jump into in order to move onward. You didn’t want to jump, yet you had no other choice but to keep going. You were turning fifteen soon, becoming a real teenager. You felt older, yet not old enough, wiser, yet not wise enough. You felt like you didn’t quite know everything that a fifteen-year-old should know. It felt like things were happening so suddenly, that your life was a large snowball rolling down a steep hill, slowly but surely turning into an avalanche. You let out a sob, playing with Liho’s fur as you let your tears fall. You wouldn’t get to see your family often anymore, and as much as you loved your mother, and as much as she loved you, you were still going to miss the others with every fiber of your being. A wave of anxiety washed over you, taking you by surprise as your thoughts started to spiral. Seeing your family less meant that you would spend less time with them, which meant that you would regret your life choices when they would all die. You felt guilt creep up your arms and legs. You were so ungrateful. You were taking them for granted, but they wouldn’t live forever, none of them would. They would die, and you would forever hate yourself for leaving them behind. Your sobbing only got louder, loud enough for Natasha to hear. You knew she could hear you from similar past experiences, so you saved her the effort and got up yourself, heading into the living room to look for her.

“What is it, my love?” She asked in that soft voice of hers, all her attention on you, always ready to be a sturdy pillar for you to lean on. She got up from the couch, leaving behind the tablet she had been looking at, a frown finding her features. She walked over to you, hugging you firmly, her left hand cupping the back of your head as you fitted your face into the crook of her neck, another sob sounding from you.

“What if we- make a mistake?”

“Make a mistake? What do you mean, honey?” Natasha leaned her head against yours, squeezing you closer to her.

“We lose e-everything-” You held her a little tighter, trembling in her arms.

“Come to the couch with me, darling. You can explain it to me, hmm?” She pulled you to the couch, both of you sinking down onto the welcoming cushions, her arms remaining wrapped around you. It took a good amount of quiet sniffling before you felt steady enough to express yourself, explaining your train of thought to Natasha, who immediately did her best to reason against your anxiety.

“First of all, milaya (honey), nobody is dying.” She gave you a gentle, chastising look for allowing yourself to fall into the same trap your brain kept setting up for you. “What do we say when your brain plays tricks on you?”

“Just because I feel it, doesn’t make it true”, you whispered quietly, sniffling softly as you nuzzled closer to her.

“That’s it.” Natasha hummed softly, petting your head in slow strokes. “Just because you feel it doesn’t make it true. No one is dying, and no one is going to die if we don’t see them every day.” You nodded your head, pulling away from her.

“I’m just scared everything will go wrong, and that we’ll end up regretting all this.” You looked at her through your tears. “What if I don’t make any friends there?”

“I know you will. One way or another. You’re an amazing girl, and anyone would be lucky to have a friend like you.” She cupped your cheek, her thumb swiping over the wet skin.

“Yeah? Then why did Makena…?” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, silencing yourself before you had the chance to burst into tears, your anxiety suddenly making a whole lot more sense to Natasha now that the root of the matter had been revealed.

“She’s lost, malyshka (baby). She doesn’t know what she wants. You did nothing wrong, and you did nothing to deserve the way she treated you.” Natasha looked at you, studying your sorrowful features. “Viv and I talked today, and we agreed it’s for the best to take some distance.”

“Good. I never wanna see her again, none of them.” Natasha recognized the ire behind your words, knew that she herself had felt it many times, yet she found herself rather sad than angry. She too was losing a friend, someone who had been there for her many times over the years whether as a fellow parent or as a friend.

“I know, darling. All the more reason to focus on the future and focus on all the possibilities. We can just leave it all behind. We have the most perfect opportunity to do that.” You nodded your head in agreement yet had something to add.

“But then if it all goes wrong.”

“Why would it go wrong, baby?” She wiped your cheeks, pulling you back into her arms when your body language suggested that you wanted more from her. You rested your head against her shoulder, curling up into a ball.

“If we hate it there.”

“Then we move back here. It won’t be the end of the world. We’ll always survive.” She assured you.

“Are you not scared?” Your voice was timid, shy. You felt like you were being weak.

“Well, I have done this a few times before. I know I’ll be okay. It’s you that I’m worried about.” She wouldn’t admit it to you, but she was afraid that you weren’t going to find friends and blend in with your peers. She herself had lived in New York, the city was familiar to her in many ways, but what was unknown to you was also unknown to her. She had never lived there with you, she had never put you into a high school in a big city. She had never had to parent a teen who would get exposed to drugs, sex, and crime most likely during said high school years. Natasha was scared sh*tless, but it wasn’t New York City that scared her, it was you and your fate.

“Do you think I’ll find friends?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Her response warmed your heart. At least you had someone who believed in your ability to gain and maintain relationships, even though currently you felt like you were especially bad at them.

“Then what are you scared of?”

“I’m worried you won’t feel at home there and that I’m forcing you into a place where you never truly wanted to be in the first place.” You pulled back at that.

“But we agreed on it together, didn’t we?” Natasha smiled at you, nodding her head.

“Yeah, we did, but you just have a tendency to make things your responsibility, even when they’re not yours to worry about.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned, Natasha’s eyes immediately drawn to the adorable expression.

“Just that…” She didn’t get a chance to finish.

“I can see that you’re sad.” It suddenly clicked for you. She knew that you were willing to go to great lengths to please your mother. She had always known it, and your anxiety only further proved it to her. You felt responsibility for her happiness as well. You weren’t worried just for yourself, but Natasha as well, treating the matter as if it was your job to make sure she was okay.

“Yeah… that.” Natasha looked a bit awkward, pursing her lips slightly.

“That’s just silly. Of course, I want you to be happy”, you huffed, letting out a small chuckle.

“Maybe, but I’m worried that you’re concerning yourself too much with it. I’ll be okay.”

“Mom.” You turned to look at her. “I’m not going or staying anywhere if you’re not with me and if you’re not happy.” You stared at her intently, a look of hers that Natasha never thought would be matched so meticulously. It brought a smile to her face.

“Okay, darling. I got it”, she hummed softly, her chest filling up with an indescribable warmth for the affection that you felt for her. She pulled you closer to kiss your cheek, but failed to let you go, kissing you a few more times before wrapping her arms around you. “We will try it out. If something goes wrong, then it goes. I know I’ll be perfectly okay as long as you’re safe.” You let out a long sigh to release your anxiety, remaining in her embrace to charge yourself with all the comfort she was capable of providing you.

“Yeah. It’ll be okay.”

“Change is supposed to be scary, it’s supposed to make you uncomfortable, but you’ll see… You’re gonna love it there. In a few months time you won’t even believe that you were ever scared of it.” You got more comfortable on the couch so that it was easier for her to hold you, and then you just stayed there, a quiet huff from Natasha and the soft padding of paws telling you that Liho had joined you to be a part of your messy release of emotions and tension.

“I’m gonna miss everyone.” It had been one of your main concerns that day ever since the lunch you had had together. To see everyone together, laughing, talking, enjoying themselves really put it into perspective for you. It was going to be a long while before you would get to be in that loving, light atmosphere again.

“Yeah, me too.” Her hand brushed down your back. “But… Do you know what missing is?”

“What?”

“A reminder that you love them.” Natasha looked at Liho, a small smile on her lips. She herself had learned that the hard way. She used to never miss anyone, she used to never give room to people in her cold, aching soul. She used to despise anyone who managed to so much as scrape the surface of her longing heart. But slowly, over time, when she had begun to let people in, she had suddenly found herself missing those people, missing their company, their attention, their affection, and she had realized that it was because she cared for them and wanted them around. The old her would’ve found that sappy and ridiculous, but the current version of her had a high regard for getting to experience such an emotion, and getting confirmation of having important, genuine connections in life.

“I really like that.” The thought was more than comforting. Instead of focusing on what you were lacking, you were shifting your attention to what you had. It warmed your heart to know that you had a family, whether it was far away or not, you still had a large, loving family who you loved, and who loved you just the same, and nothing was going to change that.

Chapter 48: Forever ingrained

Chapter Text

Summer flew by in the blink of an eye, August arriving sooner than what you felt prepared for. All your furniture and all the final boxes of your belongings had been brought inside the renovated apartment, all ties to your old home fully untethered. You had already spent a few nights in your new home with Natasha and Liho, and as grim as the place still looked with piles and piles of cardboard boxes, you could feel yourself grow more and more excited about your new living situation. You felt exhilarating joy every time you caught a glimpse at the scenery from your window, your heart skipping a beat at the city that lay beneath you. It was worlds apart from the infinite woods that had surrounded the compound, your blood pumping a little faster in your veins whenever you remembered that you were now a real New Yorker.

You had a few more boxes of clothes still lying around in your room, your current motive focusing on untackling the only task that you had left before you and Natasha would go out for the day to inaugurate your lives in the city that never slept. Your plan was to visit all the biggest tourist attractions and buy yourselves “I heart New York” T-shirts. Additionally, it was a way for you to let loose before school would once more begin and enjoy the final day of vacation. Later on you had family coming over to celebrate your new apartment with you by throwing together a little barbecue gathering. You were so excited, beyond ready for a day filled with all kinds of fun, which definitely motivated you to start unpacking the two large boxes that sat in the middle of your furnished room. You knelt onto the fluffy carpet you had chosen for the bedroom, smiling to yourself as you failed to resist the urge to take a look around your room again.

You loved your room, you loved the atmosphere, the natural light that shone through the windows. You loved your new bed that was unnecessarily wide and spacious, you loved the color of your curtains, your new desk, even your new bedside table lamp. You had all the freedom in the world with your interior decor and it really showed. Your room was exactly the kind of teenage girl room you had always dreamed of. You had stylish colors, comfortable yet aesthetic furniture, all your favorite books, clothes, knick-knacks, and other essentials that made your room distinctly your own. There were still maybe just a few things you were considering getting like adding something to your awfully bare walls, but you were in no rush. You had more than enough time for them later because the foundation of your room decor was satisfying enough.

You found a pair of scissors to cut through the tape that held the box closed, digging right into its contents to see where you could fit them in your closet. You lifted off a pile of jeans from the top, quickly realizing they weren’t yours, yet you kept going, deciding to check if there were any of your clothes at the bottom. You pulled out a blouse after another, emptying a large portion of Natasha’s closet onto your floor, your nails scraping over something hard at the bottom of the box. You frowned to yourself, childishly digging out all the fabric out of the way, no longer caring whether they were neatly folded up or not. You discovered a book: a large, thick album that weighed enough to get a small wince out of you as you pried it off the bottom with your fingers. After a bit more effort than you had expected, the album sat on your lap, the brown leather thoroughly worn out, the surface torn around the corners of the book. You glanced at your door, feeling as if Natasha might burst inside at any moment, but you could very clearly hear her in the living room, most likely working on some of the boxes there. Your eyes moved back to the album, your fingertips flipping open the cover. The first thing you found were files written in Russian. There were signatures and fingerprints, almost as if it was a contract of sorts, but you couldn’t understand the vocabulary enough to make sense of it. Although you did understand that the paper held a lot of personal information about your mother, such as eye and hair color, height, weight, date of birth, and full name.

There were more papers as you flipped the page, finding an entire stack of them. You couldn’t understand most of it, not even bothering to try because you figured it to be work related. You continued to flip the pages, your eyes finally landing on some pictures after skipping a bunch of official documents. Your jaw dropped at the portraits that were lined neatly on the pages aging from one to seventeen. You looked at the child, the scrawny baby with watery eyes who had been very clearly forced into the picture. The baby looked miserable, her huge green eyes staring right into your soul. Odin god (one year old). She had a prominent button nose that dominated her face, those large eyes filled with what you took as fear. You gasped without even noticing it, your fingers caressing the baby’s cheeks over the picture before moving right onto the next one. Natasha was two years old, her light orange hair curling outwards on the sides of her head. She didn’t smile, she didn’t do anything in the picture, just stared ahead right into your eyes. You felt your heartbeat pick up, a sense of anguish consuming you as you moved on to look at the next picture from when she was three years old. She had choppy bangs, and messy curls, pouty lips, and a defiant stare. At four years old her features looked more balanced, her hair was longer and darker, an awkward look on her face, like she didn’t like to be observed by you. Something about seeing your mother as a child made your anxiety skyrocket. She had always told you that there were no pictures of her, that the Red Room never cared enough for sentimentalities, which was surely true, but you still felt a bit upset that she hadn’t wanted to share any pictures with you.

The next portrait made your heart drop. The five-year-old Natasha had a black eye and a split lip, her eyes cold and firm. You recognized the look in them, recognized the hint of pain in them. You wiped your eyes hastily, giving each picture the same amount of attention, carefully studying any details you could find in her growing features. If you managed to look past the obvious signs of discomfort in her, you found her to be quite beautiful. You noted that she looked almost like a porcelain doll in some of the pictures, her round face, and pale skin giving her a picturesque appearance. You noted how her nose found its current shape, her lips coming in to eventually balance out her facial features. Her hair grew well past her shoulders, the moles on her cheek grew darker, the girl became picture by picture more and more like your mother until you reached the age of seventeen years old. She didn’t smile in any of the pictures, if anything, the look on her face grew more unsettling year by year. Natasha looked void of emotion, she seemed to be nothing but a mere shell of a human being. If you looked hard enough at the final portrait on the second page, you were sure you could see a slight quirk in the corner of her mouth as if she was about to smile, but the gesture paired with her murderous eyes was far from friendly. You went back to the image of her at your age. Fourteen years old. She looked like she could knock you out with a single punch. She looked scary, almost deranged in comparison to you, her eyes a little too wide for your comfort, lips in a stern line, a blooming bruise decorating her jaw. You let out a shaky sigh, flipping the page, not sure what to expect. You found more files, more text that you didn’t bother to read, moving forward to look for more pictures. You found hazy images of what you assumed to be the Red Room, eyeing the conditions where your mother had grown up in. You felt cold just looking at the pictures, realizing that you were looking into the past, into what could have very well been your own future.

Your hand shot up to your mouth once you turned the page again, finding an assortment of printed out pictures of Natasha, the stack of images having been hastily shoved between the pages. You gathered them all into your hands, your stomach twisting in nausea as you sought for courage to look through them. She was beaten down, bloody, and bruised in many of them, the theme of the pictures making your heart race in your chest. They were clearly a punishment of some sorts, a way of bringing utter humiliation to the girls, to your mother. The images were gut-wrenching, your tears falling freely as your mind tried to process the sight of her wounds, the look of pure submission on her face as she accepted her fate, accepted whatever punishment she had had to face before the moment when the pictures had been taken. She often had tears in her eyes, a pained frown on her face that she was desperately trying to bite back. Rarely was she properly dressed, which seemed to be another sort of punishment, and you soon learned that you didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see a single thing more, your eyes landing on another violating image of her, perhaps the most violating of all. You slammed the album shut, chucking it off your lap as if you couldn’t stand the weight of it for a second longer, your hands covering your mouth to stuff back in the cry you wanted to let out. You hadn’t wanted to see that, you really hadn’t, yet the image lingered in your mind, forever ingrained into your mind to haunt you for all eternity.

In a passionate fit of rage, you stuffed the book back inside the box, hastily folding all the clothes back on top to bury it out of your sight as you held in your cries, so unbelievably angry and frustrated at the world. You couldn’t believe that someone could do something so cruel to your mother, how someone could hurt and humiliate your mother like that, hurt another human being in such a disgusting, violent way. You wanted to scream, actively fighting to get rid of the image of a nude child beaten and bruised on a grimy floor. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair. You went to the window where a new, large beanbag chair sat, slumping down into it as you let your emotions flood out in a sudden burst of pure agony. You couldn’t fight it and you had no intention to fight it because you knew that it was only a fraction of the pain your mother had had to go through in her childhood. She had told you that they hadn’t hurt her more than through the hysterectomy, she had told you, and you had believed. You had naively accepted what you had wanted to hear from her all the while Natasha had been sheltering you from some of the most gruesome and vile things you could have ever imagined, your own connection to the Red Room making your stomach twist in nausea. You buried your face into the beanbag, sobbing quietly at the image that kept returning into your conscious mind against your will. In that moment you hated the world more than you had ever before had reason to. You hated, despised the world, begging, praying, pleading that you could burn it into ashes, even if you would have to burn with it.

“Y/N! You ready?” Natasha's voice sounded from the living room. “We should get going if we wanna hit all the best spots.” You sighed heavily, wiping your eyes dry, staring blankly down into the city, deciding to push away every ounce of sadness in you to avoid ruining your fun day together. You wanted to enjoy your time with her, you needed it more than ever; she needed it.

“Yeah!” You got up and moved to the full-length mirror in your room, checking your appearance in its reflection, wiping your eyes dry even if there was no hiding the irritation your tears had left behind. You left your room regardless of the evidence that shone on your face, heading into the living room rather casually.

“You okay, malyshka (baby)?” You refused to let the hint of concern in her tone get to you, biting the inside of your cheek to reign in the surge of sadness inside you.

“Yeah, I think it’s my period.” You still accepted the hug that she gave you, desperately needing it, desperately needing to hold your mother and know that she was safe with you, far, far away from her cruel past.

“Aw, I’m sorry, angel. We’ll make the best of it.” She kissed your head, squeezing you tightly, a sympathetic smile on her face as she stroked your back. “You’re not having any cramps, are you? We can postpone today and stay on the couch if you’d rather do that.”

“No, I’m just a little emotional”, you chuckled, sniffling softly before taking a long, deep breath of her perfume. You stayed in her embrace for quite a while, Natasha nothing but happy to hold you, as pleased as ever to know that you still craved her comfort and affection regardless of how independent and strong you were becoming. She kissed your hair every now and then, petting your arms and back until you were ready to pull away. You looked at your mother as she cupped your warm cheeks, her thumbs wiping gently over your irritated skin. She smiled down at you, her smile waning down a bit when you leaned up and kissed her cheek, your arms wrapping tightly around her neck to hold her even closer. Natasha welcomed the gesture, chuckling softly.

“Wanna talk about it? You seem distraught.” You pulled back at that, forcing out a laugh.

“No, I’m okay. I just really love you.” You looked at her, holding her gaze, for the first time ever seeing all the different versions of her in those eyes, relieved to find the pain from the portraits gone. She was healed, she was safe.

“I love you too, solnishka (sunshine). I love you more than anything. I love you the most.” She kissed the side of your head repeatedly, exaggerating the sound like she always used to do. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You nodded your head enthusiastically, trying your very best to shake off any suspicion. “You ready to go now? I’ve got a cab waiting.” You nodded your head, your cheeks flushing warm when she tickled you softly from under your chin.

You headed to Ellis Island first, bought tickets for the Statue of Liberty and admired the sunny sea that you got an ample view of. It wasn’t your first time there, but you had both agreed to pretend to be tourists from another state, both of you putting on a southern accent to bring some excitement into your day. Whoever failed to uphold the cover first would have to let the other decide where you would go for lunch. It was incredibly fun to let loose and be loud, both of you acting a bit like you lacked spatial awareness as Natasha gave you instructions on how to pose for pictures. You upheld the same atmosphere to Trinity Church, Brooklyn Bridge, Rockefeller center, Top of the Rock, and finally Times Square where Yelena joined in on your little game.

“Mom, can we get ice cream?” You saw the way Natasha pinched her lips shut to avoid laughing at your fake accent, Yelena smiling like a fool, not even bothering to cover it up.

“Of course, darlin’.” You only resented her just a little bit for having such a huge advantage over you. Her accent was almost uncanny to southerners, but it was basically her job to blend into any crowd, so you had to forgive her for being so good at it, same with Yelena. You all changed your course toward what you perceived to be the nearest ice cream stand, your feet gaining a little more pep into their step at the mention of a sweet treat before heading toward Central Park for the afternoon. You licked your vanilla soft ice, listening to Natasha and Yelena’s conversation, intrigued by their ability to form into different people, or what at least appeared to be a different person. They were still talking about the same things as they always would have, but the accent really threw you off. It was kind of silly. You looked at them for a long while, listening only halfheartedly to them catch up with each other after another month or two had flown by without each other. You could’ve been like them. The thought lingered in your mind. Had it not been for Natasha, you would have been like them. The horrible image flashed through your mind again. That could have been you, that would have been you, if you hadn’t gotten so lucky in life. You felt a shiver go down your spine despite the warmth of the sun that beamed down on you. It could’ve been you in that picture, vulnerable and wounded, abused.

You grabbed Natasha’s hand carefully, searching for comfort, refusing to let go of her. You felt yourself grow clingy again, clingy in a way you hadn’t been in years, your anxiety starting to creep up on you again. You felt like you might just lose your mother to whatever the hell her past had been. You had no way of processing such intimate and traumatic information, no other way than to worry yourself sick for the most important person in your life, hoping that it would be enough to keep her safe, keep her with you. She gave your hand a squeeze to acknowledge your gesture, her conversation flowing just the same. They were arguing about why their respective lunch spots would be better for the day. You already knew that you were out of the equation, no longer wishing to talk because the accent made your mouth feel thick and tired. You needed something else to think about, something that would take your mind off the photo album, even more so when your ice cream was gone.

“Mom, the shirts!” You tugged on her hand, leaving behind your accent as you spotted a souvenir store that had your desired shirts plastered all over the front of it. Natasha raised her brow at your lack of accent but accepted it without further teasing, shooting Yelena a playful smirk. The game was down between the two sisters.

“Perfect!” The sound of her drawl brought a smile to your face, your hold on her hand tightening as she dragged you into the store. She was so energetic, so full of positive light. You couldn’t tell whether it was New York or the fact that she could sense your gloomy mind like she had a tendency to do, but nonetheless you truly appreciated it because it offered you a perfect distraction. “Should we get both black and white, or just one?”

“I want matching”, you replied, smiling in amusem*nt as Yelena was thoroughly distracted by all the patriotic souvenirs.

“Make your pick then, darlin’. I’ll get whatever you get.” Natasha let go of your hand, giving your upper back a brief, comforting rub before allowing you to go check out the shirts, still busy with her ice cream.

You ended up doing more shopping than just the one souvenir store, lured in by various different stores that you felt like visiting. You got some last-minute school shopping done, finding a new pencil case that was more appropriate for high school in your opinion, although Natasha was vehemently trying to make you favor the pink and sparkly stationary as if struggling to accept that your taste was becoming more mature. You found it funny, a part of you feeling like she might’ve actually been the one that wanted a princess notebook and not you. She bought you one “just in case”, which you would have found strange not even a day prior, but your newly acquired information explained it all to you without requiring any further pondering. You found a perfect pair of trendy jeans that you immediately decided to wear for your first day of high school, Natasha and Yelena’s constant bickering keeping you thoroughly entertained through the day until you finally returned home to prepare the barbecue with the rest of your family who had all arrived at the tower one by one since noon.

You spotted Clint on the couch, watching TV while Steve and Wanda worked in the kitchen, Vision looking after the twins who were playing on the living room floor carpet with their toys. The sight put a smile on your face as you hurried to Clint, plopping down onto the couch beside him, his muscular arm wrapping around your shoulders to bring you into a hug. You couldn’t help but to giggle when he squeezed you tightly, kissing the top of your head, his eyes moving to Natasha who was carrying a few paper bags that held your shopping haul. Their gazes met, Natasha’s face softening at the sight of you in Clint’s arms.

“Hi”, she hummed, walking over to him to ruffle his hair, the grimace that found his face telling her that she had succeeded in her attempt to annoy him. She moved on to greet the rest of her family, receiving an enthusiastic hug from Morgan before the seven-year-old girl bounced into your direction, looking for more age-appropriate company. You focused on the feel of Clint’s arm holding you, reminded of how close him and your mother were. Maybe he could tell you more about her past, maybe he could soothe your anxiety, but before you managed to bring up anything of the sort, Morgan was begging for your attention. The matter got pushed to the very back of your head almost automatically, your loving family consuming all your attention simultaneously both to your utter relief and disappointment. You weren’t sure how long Clint was staying, unsure if you had missed your opportunity. Another person you could go to was Yelena, but you found the idea rather intimidating when you didn’t know what kind of horrors she herself had experienced. And of course, the most obvious answer where you would be guaranteed an explanation was your mother, but you felt all too intimidated to bring up something so vulnerable and private, especially when it was something you weren’t even supposed to know about. Additionally, the thought of ruining your mother’s radiant happiness upon moving into the city didn’t exactly appeal to you. She was so bright and warm, there was no way you could have ever forgiven yourself had you ruined it for her in any way.

“Did you buy something? I wanna see”, Morgan announced. You took the out immediately, letting go of the thoughts that had been plaguing you periodically that day, choosing to focus on Morgan instead.

“Yeah, mom got me a Polaroid camera!” You felt enthusiasm flood back into your body, Clint smiling at the both of you as you reached for the bags that Natasha had set down beside the couch.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a camera that prints out the picture immediately after you take it.” You pulled out a medium sized cardboard box from the bag, showing the pictures on the outside of it to Morgan who inspected the image with care.

“How does it do that?” She looked puzzled, most likely trying to figure out how it was possible.

“I’m not exactly sure, I’m sure your dad knows. We should probably ask.”

“Yeah, he knows everything.” There was a hint of pride in her tone which you found rather adorable. You opened up the box, immediately finding the instruction manual, reading the important parts carefully so that you would know how to set up and use your very own camera. You and Morgan spent a while figuring out how to place the empty film inside the camera, but after rechecking the instructions you managed to set everything up.

“What should my very first picture be?”

“Me!” Morgan jumped in excitement, already hitting a few poses for you as if to show you that she was worthy of a picture. It made you laugh. You brought the camera up to your eye, peering through the viewfinder to take your picture.

“Stay still for me.” You couldn’t stop smiling, endeared by the huge grin Morgan had on her face. “Three, two, one.” The camera clicked, a bright light flashing over Morgan’s form, the camera immediately starting to whir as it began to produce the picture for you to see.

“Let me see!” She came to your side, watching in excitement how the camera pushed out a white card, her eyes widening, but her look of awe was soon replaced by a frown. “Where’s the picture?”

“We’ll have to wait for a while for it to develop.” You took the picture off the top once it was fully printed out, both of you staring intently at the empty film, waiting patiently for an image to appear. After what felt like forever, you started to see shadows, darkening colors slowly appearing on the glossy surface, Morgan gasping loudly.

“Oh my gosh! It’s working!” She looked at you with those huge brown eyes, her face filled with child-like wonder. You watched as Morgan’s giant smile appeared on the film, the moment forever captured in that small photograph. “I wanna take one of you!” She reached for the camera. “Can I? Can I, please?”

“Yeah, but just be careful, okay. Let me show you how.” You instructed Morgan to use the viewfinder and showed her where the shutter was before backing away to fit yourself fully into the picture. You smiled, looking into the camera lens, the flash going off as Morgan took the picture. It was just as much fun to watch the picture appear as it had been the first time, both of your gazes nailed to the developing image as it revealed your face and body.

“More!” You both hurried into the kitchen where half of your family was, taking a picture of Tony who was procrastinating with cooking rather wonderfully by trying to teach some sort of creation of his to do the task for him. The robot looked rather helpless despite its lack of humane features, Pepper wearing an annoyed scowl on her face that let you know it was without a doubt not the first time he had done it. You snapped a picture of them, the comical sight soon appearing on the white film. You aimed the camera across the kitchen to where your mother and Yelena were, you took a few steps closer as if pulled in by their bickering, Yelena shoving her hand in Natasha’s face to annoy her. Your mother let out a light, airy giggle, pulling her head away from Yelena’s hand, your finger pressing down on the shutter, the loud sound and flash, gaining both of their attention. You gave them a sheepish smile, eagerly watching the photo print out. You zoned out from their conversation, looking at the sight develop, your chest warming up at the look of joy on your mother’s face. She looked beautiful, alive, healthy, a smile spreading onto your lips.

“What?” Natasha asked curiously, watching you hand the picture to her.

“You look really pretty.” Your words brought a hint of shyness to her demeanor, a small smirk on her lips.

“Thank you, dushenka (sweetheart).” She kissed you briefly on your forehead before you moved on to find more subjects for your photographs. You noticed that you were steadily growing more absentminded, your thoughts slowly slipping back to that scarring image. You looked down at the photo of Natasha you had just taken, glancing Clint’s way again as if in need of comfort, for someone to soothe your agitated mind. Your feet took you to him on their own, the pensive look on your face prompting him to open his mouth.

“Hey, hun. How’s the camera working?” You looked down at the picture of Natasha in your hand. You were hesitating. She looked so happy, you really shouldn’t go poking your nose to where it didn’t belong. The words were on the tip of your tongue, you were going to ask him about it all, but then you heard her laugh again, the sound of it echoing in your disquieted mind, soothing it in an instant. It was in the past.

“So well. Would you wanna come into the family picture? I want everyone in it.” You forced the unwanted image out of your mind, doing your best to focus on the present moment.

“Yeah, of course.”

There was so much food, so much love, so much laughter, all of you gathered in the dining area to spend time together, the warmth that filled the air occupying your tired mind. The smell of barbecue filled the air, quiet music carrying from the living room to add to the steady chatter that dominated the penthouse. It was easy to drown out your mind amidst the lively conversation, your attention shared by each individual in the room. You snapped a picture of everyone gathered around the table, patiently waiting for it to develop so that you could carry that moment with you for the rest of your life. By the end of the night, you had a stack of images, both of your ten-pack films empty, twenty pictures spread across the coffee table for everyone to see as you continued your night on the couches, some talking, and some watching the action movie that was currently on TV. You sat between Steve and Natasha, Steve’s warm arm draped over your shoulders. You stared down at the picture of your mother in your hand, the only picture that wasn’t there for everyone to see. You felt yourself grow sleepier the lower the sun set, Steve’s warmth fighting against the anxiety and excitement that the start of your new school year brought you. The nervous butterflies in your belly were slightly less aggressive whenever you looked down at the picture of Natasha and felt the firm squeeze of Steve’s arm. You grabbed Natasha’s hand from her lap to hold it, but her touch found your knee and thigh instead, stroking your leg to soothe you even further. Your eyelids started to droop an hour later, functioning as a rather telling cue of your bedtime. You had a big day coming and you needed all the rest you could get for your early alarm.

“Come on, baby, time for bed”, Natasha hummed, brushing her knuckles over your cheek to gently alert you before you had the chance to fall asleep. You pulled back, blinking your eyes open enough to see her face. You gave her a frown of protest.

“No”, you whined, feeling all too tired to move, adding a bit of extra whining to really communicate to her how tired you were. Natasha chuckled, an enamored smile on her face as she tugged you closer and away from Steve’s warmth.

“I’ll get your stuff. All you need to do is walk to the elevator.” You whined again in protest, Natasha shaking her head in disbelief. “Do I have to make Steve carry you?” You heard him laugh, your lips curving into a smile.

“Alright, let’s go.” He hoisted you off the couch like a log, throwing you over his shoulder, Natasha getting up to collect all your stuff before following in tow, smiling at your laughter that sounded from the elevator. You were brought home in no time, saying goodnight to Steve before getting into your room. You could hear him and Natasha talk as you got ready for bed before tackling your collection of Polaroid pictures. You found some blue tack, pressing the images onto the empty wall beside your bed, making sure that they were evenly spaced, and the composition looked good. The only picture that didn’t get to be up there was the one of Natasha. You held it in your hand, your gaze returning to it over and over again. You wanted to see it clearly from your bed if you were to wake up in the middle of the night because you had a feeling that the unwanted picture was going to visit your dreams. You lie down in bed, looking around for a place for the Polaroid, noticing that your nightstand was slightly taller than your bed, allowing a small sliver of the side to peek over the edge of your bed. It was perfect. You grabbed more blue tack and stuck the Polaroid onto the side of the nightstand, Natasha’s joyous face always there for you to look at whenever needed. The picture brought you a tangible sense of relief, replacing the horrifying image in your mind with something positive instead. She was alright, you were alright, everything was going to be alright.

Chapter 49: Cool girls

Chapter Text

Your mother dropped you off in front of the school, your stomach twisting harshly at the sight of the large, old building. You felt nauseous. You stared up at the giant monster before you, glancing back to see Natasha smiling at you from the car. You had told her that you didn’t need her to walk you to the front doors, but suddenly you felt like you could have used company. You watched the other kids your age and older head inside, some of them clearly greeting their friends after a long break. You were intimidated, incredibly so. Would you really fit in with all those teenagers? Would you really find your place in the sea of people? You turned around to take another look at your mother, waving her goodbye for the final time, receiving a kiss from her that she blew your way. It made you smile despite hoping that no one had seen it. You gave the giant building another long look before starting to walk toward the double doors, your cheeks heating up from nerves. You knew the class you were meant to find from the fifth floor, heading for the assigned classroom for that years’ freshmen. You felt unsure of every step you took, but eventually after a few wrong turns here and there you found your way into the classroom you were meant to be in. There were kids outside and inside, small groups of people, some quiet, some unnecessarily loud. It was rather evident to you that some of them were previously acquainted. It was almost shocking to you how easily you could tell who was playing what role. You eyed your options, deciding to go to the back of the class that looked rather occupied, but you would rather sit there instead of the front that looked all too intimidating with the smart nerds lining the first row like they were waiting for their favorite singer to waltz on stage. You spotted a girl with a platinum blonde bob cut, the hair disheveled yet somehow stylish. She had hazel eyes, your gazes meeting for a mere second before she went back to doodling into her notebook. Without thinking it much further you walked over to her, immediately gaining her attention.

“Is this seat taken?” The girl shook her head at your question, going back to drawing as you pulled back the chair and sat behind the desk. You didn’t say anything else, observing the classroom silently, leaving the girl be when she was clearly uninterested in any small talk. You checked the time from your phone, noting that there was still ten minutes before class would start. You had thankfully evaded any nightmares that night despite the struggles of the previous day, yet your sleeping hours had remained rather minimal due to the nervous butterflies in your belly. You were tired but too excited to really feel it, your body seeming to be pumped with energy, but you knew it to be adrenaline. All you could do was wait.

“What’s your name?” The girl beside you spoke up suddenly after a few more minutes of silence. You turned to her in mild shock, your eyes meeting again. She had green and yellow in her eyes, right around her pupil. The eye contact felt rather intense. You blinked a little, glancing away to find more courage.

“Y/N.”

“Annie.” Neither of you really knew what to do next, silence starting to creep up on you. She was pretty. You really liked the shape of her eyebrows, which felt like a rather odd observation, but you couldn’t lie, she was really nice to look at.

“Are you new here?” It felt like a slightly awkward question, but you had already asked it by then.

“Yeah, my family moved to Queens before summer.” Your eyes widened in surprise, a slight smile taking over your features.

“No way! My mom and I just moved here a little over a week ago.” You both smiled at each other, your gaze holding her own, noting the way those hazel eyes looked at you, Annie’s long lashes enhanced by mascara.

“It’s nice to know I’m not the only newbie here.” She had a smooth voice. She was clearly quiet, someone who was used to being quiet. You couldn’t tell whether it was by choice or not.

“Yeah.” The door to the classroom closed, the atmosphere changing drastically in the presence of a teacher. You felt your stomach lurch in disappointment. You would have wanted to talk to Annie for longer, unsure whether you would get a chance to do so later. The teacher was an older man, rather typical of his kind in your opinion. He had a nice smile and a warm atmosphere around him. He seemed enthusiastic to start the new year, clearly hoping to get the students to his level of excitement. After greetings and introductions, he started going through a name list to make sure that everyone was present, as well as ensure that no one was in the wrong classroom. You paired each name to a face, observing your surroundings with great curiosity to get yourself settled in your new environment.

“Romanoff, Y/N.” Annie looked at you for a moment as if her curiosity had been piqued, but she didn’t say anything.

“Here.” You lifted your hand up to signal the teacher where to look for you, your slight smile immediately returned by him.

“Nice to meet you.” You felt a bit awkward, but you didn’t get to linger in the feeling because he had already moved on from you. He called on a handful of students, greeting each just the same.

“Volkova, Anastasia.” Your head turned to Annie, or rather Anastasia, as she raised her hand to let the teacher know that she was present. Your eyes met and she leaned closer.

“Where are you from?” You caught onto her curiosity immediately, experiencing a similar surge of excitement at the shared kinship of your last names.

“Russia.” Her smile turned almost more genuine at the news, a warmth spreading through your body. “I was born there, but I’ve lived all my life in the states.”

“Belarus”, she replied, your smile widening. You had something in common. “And me too. We moved here when I was five.” She smirked. “Govorish po-russki? (Do you speak Russian?)” Your heart skipped a beat at the way the language just flowed out of her in a low whisper so that no one would hear you speaking over the teacher.

“Da. Govoryu c moyey mamoy (Yeah, I speak it with my mom).” You had never spoken Russian with anyone besides your mother and Yelena if you didn’t count your Russian lessons. It felt strange, yet exciting to encounter it so casually.

“That’s so cool. I don’t know that much Russian cause we mostly speak Belarusian at home.” You felt excitement bubble within you.

“Yeah, me neither. My mom wants me to speak it more often, but it doesn’t come as naturally to me, I guess.”

“I used to talk with my grandma, but now we talk so much less because she’s back in Belarus.” You received a displeased look from the teacher, his gaze lingering on you two for an unnecessarily long time which shut you both up immediately before he would get the chance to call you out for misbehaving. You smirked at Anastasia, her smile mirroring yours.

You spent the rest of the day with her, attaching yourself to her side so that you wouldn’t have to go through a second of the day alone when you had no clue what you were doing. And by the end of the day when you exited the once intimidating building, you looked back at it and realized that maybe it wasn’t as scary as you had thought it to be. You waved goodbye to Anastasia before getting into the car that was waiting for you in the street, greeted by your mother and her vibrant smile. You were interviewed rather thoroughly by her, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest, your excitement bubbling over as you told her all about the girl who had saved you from a long day of awkward moping. Natasha was nothing but thrilled to hear about another Slavic presence in your life, your excitement rubbing off on her in an instant. She couldn’t have been any prouder of you for making a new friend on the very first day of high school.

Your school year kicked off surprisingly well, the change of atmosphere exceeding your expectations. You felt so free in the new environment. Nobody knew you, nobody knew your mother, your family, your background. You were free of any baggage you might have previously carried, and you had a fresh start ahead of you. Anastasia and you got better acquainted with each other during the first week of school, learning all the essentials about each other’s personalities, slowly building a base for a solid friendship, at least hopefully. However, she wasn’t the only friend you made, which somehow took you by surprise. A third person infiltrated her way into your company in the second week of freshman year. She was a tall, bubbly girl with glasses and wavy, brown hair. She went by Jules because according to her, Julia felt all too formal, and only her mother was allowed to call her that. She was incredibly nice, overly nice, if you were being honest, but it didn’t seem to bother anyone. You felt like you were living a completely different life than before, the change, the new people giving you a rush of confidence. Middle school had never felt so thrilling, so full of possibilities. You were on the cusp of adulthood, thoroughly romanticizing your teenage years as you found your place in high school and in the city of New York. You felt like you were in a movie, like you were in one of those Young Adult novels that you snuck into the piles and piles of books you often forced Natasha to buy for you from Barnes and Nobles.

“Did you bring lunch?” You asked your friends on your way to the cafeteria on the last Wednesday of September. Anastasia nodded her head, lifting up a small lunch box.

“Yeah.” She sounded like she wasn’t exactly excited about her meal.

“I heard they have chicken tenders today. I at least hope so because I didn’t bring anything. I love chicken tenders, oh my god. Do you guys like chicken tenders?” You couldn’t help but to bite back your giggle, amused by Julia’s hyperactive nature, the words coming out of her mouth at lightning speed.

“Yeah, they’re my favorite”, Anastasia replied, looking down at her packed lunch.

“Ana, I’ll get you some, if you want. I have extra money.” You offered immediately, smiling almost shyly at Anastasia. She seemed touched by your offer, nodding softly as she directed a grateful look your way. You three headed into the lunch line, immediately very aware of how packed the dining hall was. Your eyes scanned your surroundings, noting exactly zero free tables for you to sit at, but you all got your chicken tenders anyway, deciding that seats would be a problem for you later on. Once you had paid for you and Anastasia’s chicken tenders, you started looking for a place to sit in, walking around the dining hall, searching for vacant spots. The moment made you infinitely more thankful for your new friends, their presence overthrowing your anxiety.

“Oh, there’s room!” Julia pointed out, gesturing her head toward the corner of the hall where a nearly empty table stood, a girl in all black sitting there with her headphones in, an uneaten plate of food in front of her. She looked rather unapproachable, but you had no other choice but to go sit with her, so you and Anastasia followed Julia’s lead and headed for the table. “Hi, are these taken?” You must have looked a bit awkward with the way you were all standing there expectantly, but the girl merely grunted something along the lines of a no, prompting you to sit down. You felt awkward, unsure whether to include the girl or not, but when she didn’t even glance at you with her black-rimmed eyes, you all focused back on your current conversation.

“I’d get the newer version, but it’s so expensive. My mom would never agree to buy it”, Julia lamented, dipping one of her chicken tenders in ketchup.

“My girlfriend has it. It’s the best.” Your heart leapt out of your chest at Anastasia’s words, your eyes widening the slightest bit at the news. She had a girlfriend. You felt an odd ball form in the pit of your stomach, a bubble of jealousy. Maybe you should have had someone for yourself as well.

“You have a girlfriend?” You asked in surprise.

“Yeah, we got together two days ago. Remember Christie? I think I mentioned her. She’s my neighbor.” You did remember Christie, but you never realized that it was like that between them.

“Oh, congratulations then.” You gave her a small smile.

“Thanks.” She was practically glowing. You lingered on the subject as the others continued to discuss an extension pack for a game mostly Anastasia and Julia played. You had heard of it but you hadn’t gotten the chance to try it.

“I can’t get past the ax man. He gets me every time”, Julia moaned, Anastasia nodding in excitement.

“Me neither! He watches you like a hawk. I swear to god.” Anastasia barely had patience to eat her chicken tenders.

“Exactly! He’s behind every corner. I can never escape him.” Julia waved a piece of chicken in the air as she expressed herself rather animatedly through her hands before taking a bite.

“I’ve tried so many things, but he always catches me. There has to be a way to get past him without triggering him.” Julia looked pensive, her frown partly hidden by her glasses.

“You have to wait for him to walk down the hall.” You all paused at the foreign voice that joined the conversation, your heads turning toward the girl in black. “When he’s at the end of it, he won’t be able to hear you.” It took you all a second to process what had just happened, all of your heads turning to look at her.

“But he never goes there. He’s always watching the door.” Anastasia was clearly willing to hear her out.

“You need to distract him.” The girl had brown eyes and black hair, her already dark lash lines lined with black to give her eyes a slightly smokey look that worked for her quite well. She had a low messy bun, a few loose strands framing her strong jaw and bold features. Her skin had a radiant warmness to it, the shade of light brown deeper from the sunny months that were starting to be fully behind you.

“How?” Julia looked eager to finally get answers.

“You have to go through the vents and distract him by shoving a flower vase off the shelf. Then you have maybe like thirty seconds or so to go back and sneak into the next room. That way you don’t trigger him.” Her voice was surprisingly bright and soft considering how much it clashed with her intimidating appearance.

“What’s your name?” You asked, looking to make a concrete connection between you.

“Valéria.” You heard a hint of a Hispanic accent slip into her pronunciation of the name, the consonants voiced much softer than in English.

“I’m Y/N.” You gave her a small smile, hoping that your advances were welcome.

“Jules.” The other girls caught on immediately.

“Annie.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Valéria smiled for the first time since your arrival at the table, revealing just a sliver of her front teeth. You would have never guessed that Valéria would be sitting with you at lunch the next day, and then the day after that, and the day after that. You kept running into her in some of your classes, the intimidating girl turning out to be the sweetest goofball you had met in a long while. She had a habit of giggling like it was nobody’s business, her out of pocket humor keeping you entertained through algebra and chemistry which you both happened to have on your timetables. You still did have a few classes where you knew no one familiar, but you didn’t mind it because you knew you wouldn’t have to spend the entire day alone, in fact, most of the time you had someone to tag along with to get you through classes which was greatly appreciated.

By the end of November, you had a rather solid friend group that had formed over the first twelve weeks of school. It was thrilling. You had never really had a proper friend group before, but now there were not only you, Anastasia, Julia, and Valéria, but also two other girls who had recently become a staple at your lunch table. The two girls were old best friends from elementary school and had gotten to know Julia in PE after having teamed up in dodgeball. Jesse and Tina were joined at the hip. You found it rather endearing how similar they were in mannerisms, style, and interests. Sometimes they even spoke the same thing at the same time or had the same exact reactions to things happening around you. They had bold, strong personalities, their characters only amplified by the other. They were real and honest, yet kind. They were what Makena had wished to be. You couldn’t help but to be reminded of her, but you were no longer saddened by the thought of her, no. You were relieved to realize that recalling your friendship with Makena hurt a lot less when there were supportive, genuine people around you.

“Girl, pass me the lip gloss.” You heard Tina’s bold dialect when you exited the bathroom stall, spotting her and Jesse by the mirrors, the latter handing a tube of lip gloss to Tina who was touching up her hair, trying to figure out a half up-half down hairdo with her long braids. She seemed to give up soon after, focusing on glossing her dark lips. She caught your gaze through the mirror, finishing up the application before turning around to see you. “You want any?” You didn’t really wear much makeup, not because you didn’t care, but maybe more so because you never felt the need for it. You felt a surge of something bittersweet go through you. That’s all Makena would have had to do. She would’ve simply had to give you an opportunity to join her. You weren’t beneath the kinds of girls that they were, you weren’t any lesser for not exactly staying on top of trends and makeup products.

“Sure.” You washed your hands quickly before going over to Tina, watching how Jesse dug through her makeup bag, eventually finding her perfume to spray some of it over her neck. It smelled nice, she always smelled so good. You turned to Tina fully when her hand found your jaw to tilt your chin up slightly. She was taller than you and wore heeled shoes most of the time, leaving a good foot-long height difference between you. There came more ruckus from the stalls, Valéria joining you all at the mirrors. She had an oversized black hoodie, the hood pulled up to hide her messy hair, eyeliner smudged beneath her eyes.

“I slept like sh*t”, she announced, washing her hands before hopping up to the sink counter to sit. Tina smirked, focusing back on your lips to add a bit of pink tint to them as Valéria continued to complain, your eyes moving back to Tina’s sharp features. “My sister kept me up all night. I swear she’s so annoying.” The bathroom door opened, Julia and Anastasia joining you as you waited for the lunch time rush to pass before you would go eat. You all greeted each other, the conversation flowing naturally between you as you caught up with your differing schedules. You stayed still as Tina did your lips, looking at your friends through the wide mirror, shocked to your very core to realize that you were the cool girls. You were one of them.

It wasn’t until early December when you dared to invite anyone over to your home. You hadn’t talked much about your mother nor your family to your new friend group, hoping that there would be no reason for them to treat you differently. You wanted to ensure that no one was friends with you for any superficial reasons. You wanted real, authentic friends, not any slimy pretenders who were after money or even just a glimpse at the world of superheroes. You didn’t want them to know, but the girls put it all together rather quickly after pairing your last name with the sight of your mother one afternoon when she had come to pick you up in a convertible. You were more than pleased to know that none of them seemed to care after the initial shock and wondering were over. You answered their questions and explained your situation in a way you saw fitting, relieved to see them accept what you gave, and even more relieved to learn that no one really cared, which eventually gave you the courage to finally bring someone over. Natasha wouldn’t have minded if you had brought the entire group home, but you had decided on Anastasia simply because she made you feel the most comfortable.

“Hey, solnishka (sunshine)!” You heard your mother’s voice sound from the living room right after you and Anastasia had entered the apartment, the door shutting behind you.

“Hi, mom!” You both started taking off your coats and shoes. Anastasia looked a bit unsure, like she didn’t quite know how to behave.

“I brought Annie over!” You informed casually, but Natasha was up in an instant, most likely dying to meet your friend properly, unable to stay out in the living room when she had the most perfect opportunity to see who you spent time with at school. She had heard all about Anastasia and even seen a slew of pictures, but she had never properly met the girl. After a moment of silence, Natasha appeared at the entrance of the apartment, pulling you in for a kiss as a force of habit. Anastasia looked a bit awkward, her eyes darting around like she didn’t quite know what to do.

“We’re no strangers”, Natasha hummed with a sweet smile on her face, Anastasia nodding her head. “Welcome to our home. I promise I won’t bite. If you need anything, just ask, okay?” Anastasia nodded again, offering a small, shy smile. You had never seen her so shy, never.

You found Anastasia’s reserved demeanor rather strange, soon learning that it wasn’t exactly shyness that made her that way, but something else. You liked having her over, finding her company just as easy and comforting as it was at school, your friendship strengthening significantly over the next month with Anastasia spending more and more time in your home. She had even spent a handful of nights at your place and there had never been any issues, but the one thing you couldn’t quite seem to figure out was her attitude toward Natasha. You couldn’t tell whether Anastasia liked her or not, her confusing behavior raising questions from you.

You were sat at the dinner table working on your homework before you would catch your favorite show on TV, Natasha appearing in the kitchen an hour into your work. Anastasia tensed visibly, or maybe you were just imagining it, but if you were, it happened almost every time your mother came around. Natasha had no reason to be there, other than wanting to see you and check up on you. She walked behind you, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, her arms wrapping briefly around you just because she could, Anastasia’s eyes lingering on you two from across the table.

“You doing alright in here?” Natasha asked, kissing your cheek a few times until you scrunched your nose in protest.

“Yeah, we’re fine mom.” Your eyes stayed on the sheet of algebra before you.

“Anything you want? A snack? Something to drink?” Natasha gave you another wet smooch on your cheek, smiling unabashedly at the way you wiped it off. Anastasia didn’t respond, she tended to keep her mouth shut even if Natasha was addressing her.

“You want anything?” You asked Anastasia, already expecting the small shake of her head. It was so strange. She had just said she was hungry a moment ago. “I could use a snack.” Natasha took that as a yes, moving away from the dining room table and diving into the cupboards to look for something eligible for a snack. Anastasia looked confused, her curious eyes going to your mother.

“Or we could always go out for burgers”, Natasha suggested after realizing she did not care to cook a single thing that day, and the cupboards were looking rather bare of snacks as well.

“Mom, you’re not coming out with us.” You chuckled softly, Natasha turning around to give you a look.

“What, am I not cool enough?” She feigned her annoyance, but you were both wearing smiles on your faces. The only one who wasn’t really smiling was Anastasia. Natasha saw her, but she didn’t pay much attention to her. She saw Anastasia’s wish to be invisible and respected that wish regardless of how much love she would have had to give.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… revenge for all the grownup stuff I wasn’t allowed to know.” Natasha shook her head in amusem*nt.

“Nu khorosho (fine). But then you’ll have to bring me back a burger.” She grabbed a large bottle of soda from the fridge, pouring three glassfuls of the beverage before putting it back into the fridge.

“That I can manage.” You received the glass she handed to you, taking a sip, watching carefully how Anastasia welcomed hers. She looked so meek and nervous, like soda could be the end of the world to her.

“Thanks.” Her voice was a soft whisper. You almost wanted to ask what her issue with your mother was, but you didn’t want to call her out on the spot like that.

“I’ve got some fruit in the fridge for a little healthy snack. What’s your favorite, Nastja?” Anastasia’s eyes widened at the typical Russian nickname for her, her cheeks acquiring a gentle blush to them.

“Uh, strawberry.”

“Perfect! I got some of those.” Natasha washed some of said berries, putting them in a bowl on the table for you. “There you go, darling.” Natasha’s hand brushed carefully over Anastasia’s shoulder before leaving the kitchen to give you your space. You almost asked Anastasia what her deal was, but then she grabbed a strawberry with a slight smile on her face, taking a bite of the plump fruit. You couldn’t quite figure her out.

You found out for yourself in February when you visited Anastasia’s household for the first time. She never really talked about her family. You knew she had a little brother and both parents living under the same roof, but she never told anyone much about them. You knew they were strict with curfews and rules, but even those you didn’t know much about. You had gone over to her home after begging to find some other place for you to complete your science project together at. She had been reluctant, insisting that your place was much nicer, but eventually she gave in and agreed to let you come over. The moment you made it to the front door of her house with her, you knew something wasn’t quite right.

“Don’t say anything, okay?” You frowned in confusion but nodded your head anyway. She opened the door quietly, like she was breaking into her own house. She let you inside, pointing at the staircase. “Just go upstairs, I’ll be right there.” You nodded your head, sneaking to the stairs as quietly as possible, your heart hacking in your throat. You knew something was wrong. “Pryvitannie, mama!”

“Nastja?” You paused at the sound of her mother’s voice. You had always thought she went by Annie at home as well. Anastasia responded to her mother, receiving back something that sounded rather loaded for it to be anything positive. You couldn’t quite understand Belarusian, but you did try. The talking escalated into yelling from both sides, before you heard a door bang shut so hard the whole house shook. When there was no more yelling to be heard you hurried up the stairs to make it seem like you hadn’t stayed behind to eavesdrop, finding Anastasia’s room with ease, the letter A on her door guiding you into the right direction. She came inside shortly after, her eyes glossy, the edges threatening to turn red, but she brushed it all off like it was nothing.

“Is there a problem?” You asked softly, feeling uncomfortable, like you had just intruded their home. “I can leave if it’s causing issues.”

“No, she’s just… In a mood.”

“Oh.” The atmosphere was grim. You didn’t quite know what to do.

“Are you okay?” You sat down on the edge of her bed, looking at her carefully, trying to assess the situation. Anastasia laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your chest hurt for her, your caring side stepping out immediately. You couldn’t watch her be sad if you could at least attempt to comfort her. You had never seen her cry before, other than once from joy when she had beaten Julia at a game of rock-paper-scissors and gotten to wear a Halloween costume they had been fighting over.

“Come here.” You pulled her into your embrace, Anastasia failing to protest. You hugged all the time whenever greeting each other, your arms wrapping around her neck like they always did whenever hugging her. She smelled sweet, the scent of her shampoo complementing her perfume perfectly.

“You don’t have to”, she mumbled, sniffling quietly into your neck.

“I do, actually. Because you’re my friend… my best friend.” Your heart hacked in your throat at the confession, cheeks heating in anticipation over how she was going to respond. What if she didn’t care as much as you did? You’d never quite had a friend like her, even when Makena had been in the picture, she had never made you feel the way Anastasia made you feel. You always had so much fun, you were always laughing, and always near each other. You quite liked it.

“I’m your best friend?” She pulled back to see your face, wiping her eyes dry. You nodded your head. “You’re mine too.” You wondered for a brief moment if she would have wanted to kiss you had she been single, if you would have been her type. The thought was passing, a strange, intrusive idea that made you glance down at her lips. They were a deeper shade of rose than normally, swollen from her tears.

“We don’t have to stay here. We can go to my place or the library.”

“I’d really like that. I don’t want you to have to see this.” She shrugged a bit awkwardly, pulling fully away from the hug as she looked around her room as if in shame.

“I don’t mind it, but if it makes you more comfortable, I’m all for it.” You brushed back some of Anastasia’s hair, tucking a strand behind her ear, her lips pursing into a pout. You probably shouldn’t have done that. Was it too intimate of a move?

“Thanks.” She gave you a small smile, a grateful smile. She didn’t seem bothered.

“I like your room.” You hummed softly, looking around, taking in all the little, personal details there.

“It’s not much.” She tried to shrug it off, just like she did with most compliments directed at her.

"But it’s you.” Her eyes met yours again, her face softening at your sentimentality.

Anastasia eventually opened up to you about her mother, explaining to you the way she was and how she had raised Anastasia. You learned a lot about the disrespect and off-balanced power dynamic that reigned the household. You heard stories from what Anastasia had had to endure on a daily basis ranging from punishments to verbal abuse, so the next time she came over to you and Natasha’s, you understood why she was so quiet and reserved. You understood that she wasn’t used to affection, wasn’t used to a caring parental figure. Natasha’s kindly spoken words, warm touches, and playful attitude were worlds apart from what Anastasia had at home. It all eventually started to make sense. Anastasia didn’t open her mouth because usually when she did, she got shouted at. She didn’t ask for things because she got disrespected and told off if she did. She took what she was given and made no complaints, especially not with a woman of Natasha’s kind. She was all too intimidating by nature regardless of how kind she could be. That same month you invited Anastasia for a sleepover at your place, looking to have a fun girls’ night together. That was when you really started to see improvement in Anastasia’s shyness. Natasha’s touches didn’t make Anastasia firm up like a statue anymore, she dared to actually voice her opinion whenever Natasha asked for it. Anastasia learned to trust that Natasha wouldn’t abuse her power, wouldn’t take her emotions out on you and Anastasia. Natasha was reliable, kind and compassionate. She was on your side, instead of against you, which was a shocking discovery to Anastasia.

“Well, that’s just ridiculous. She shouldn’t have much say in it as your girlfriend”, Natasha mused before taking a long sip of her takeaway coffee, steering you girls to round the corner toward the school. The morning air was rather crisp, the temperature teetering on the verge of thirty (F)/ zero(C), the streets slippery and wet.

“Yeah, but she won’t listen to me.” Anastasia let out a groan, focusing her attention on the bagel Natasha had bought for her as a quick breakfast before school. “She doesn’t want me to have so many girl friends.”

“Well, what other friends would you even have?” You scoffed. “No one would willingly hang out with boys.” You all laughed at that, Natasha’s smirk turning into a mild scrunch of her nose. Oh, how she wished she could have played matchmaker.

“If she gets too bossy, you are allowed to fight back”, Natasha reminded Anastasia gently as you finally reached the school building, Natasha’s hand rubbing over Anastasia’s back comfortingly. “No one is gonna mess with our Nastja.” The girl blushed so violently she had to hide behind her bagel, you and Natasha sharing quick amused glances.

“Yeah, no one. We’ll send the Avengers after Christie.” You felt pride bloom in your chest for making Anastasia laugh, your body filling with such dominant warmth that you felt the need to tug your scarf down. Natasha pulled you closer out of habit, readying herself to say her goodbyes so that you wouldn’t be late to class.

“Yeah, absolutely”, she muttered in amusem*nt, giving you a brief hug and a kiss on your burning forehead, moving on to Anastasia. They usually did a high-five because it was casual enough, but to both of your surprise Anastasia went in for a hug, pressing her face into Natasha’s neck. The hug was shy, clearly something Anastasia had gathered up her courage for, her arms remaining at her sides as if she wasn’t sure if she could actually hug Natasha.

“Thanks for letting me spend the night.” Natasha’s arms wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, tightening into a proper hug.

“Konechno, dorogaya (of course, darling).” Sometimes the Russian just slipped from Natasha without any further thinking, especially when in an environment that understood it. Anastasia lingered in the motherly hug, unable to pull away from it when she felt like all her wishes were getting fulfilled for even just a moment. Natasha might not have been anything more than a parent of a friend, yet she had made all the difference for Anastasia, who had begun to learn that how her own mother treated her wasn’t her fault. She was starting to see that she hadn’t done anything wrong by existing, by being born, by living and breathing, and Natasha was going to make sure of that.

You said your goodbyes to your mother who turned around and continued her morning walk around Manhattan as you and Anastasia headed for the school doors, finding the rest of your friend group from inside, greeting them with huge smiles on your faces, ready to entertain yourselves through yet another day of boring classes that felt significantly less so with your friends there to goof around with.

Chapter 50: Paying the price

Chapter Text

“I think my mom’s gonna come pick me up. She said she was in the city.”

“That’s good. Hope you won’t have to wait for too long.” Tina gave you an apologetic frown. “I wish I could stay longer, but Jay’s waiting for me.”

“Don’t worry about that. You go pick up Jay.” You chuckled softly, nudging her toward the street, so that she would finally get going, receiving an amused smirk from her. “I got practice anyway.”

“Okay, girl. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” Tina gave you a small wave, taking a few steps away from you and heading for the sidewalk.

“See ya.” You watched her dig out a vape from her pocket, a fading cloud of white the only thing that was left behind as she disappeared out of your sight, the early spring wind blowing the smoke away. You took out your phone to find your chat with Natasha, soon learning that you would have to wait longer than you had anticipated, your mother informing you that she was coming, but traffic was slowing her down. You plugged in your earbuds and put on your current favorite song, so you would have something to keep you entertained while you waited. Your stomach rumbled loudly, demanding for fuel, but you had already eaten your snack after PE. When you heard nothing more from your mother, you checked your backpack, hoping and praying that you had taken your wallet with you that day, your eyes on a small market right across the street. They made delicious sandwiches that would surely hold off your hunger through your practice. Your fingers grazed over a bit of leather, finally locating your wallet from the very depths of your bag, a smile finding your face. You crossed the street, hurrying to the shop before your stomach would cave in on itself. You had a tournament coming up and you were looking to work as hard as you could for the next two weeks in order to hopefully win against your opponent. You were so excited to see what your body was capable of achieving after the extensive training you had been committed to through all winter. Your new gym was admittedly much better than your previous one, and you could immediately tell the difference, thrilled by the chance to develop your skills even further in the challenging and competitive environment.

There was a man smoking outside, his eyes glancing your way as you grabbed onto the handle, yanking the shop door open. You already knew what you wanted to order, heading straight for the counter with your wallet ready. There was another customer before you, but you soon got to place your order and received your desired sandwich in no time. You didn’t have enough hands to check your phone to see if your mother had replied yet, squeezing the sandwich between your forearm and abdomen as you shoved the change back into your wallet, stepping out of the shop. You turned to the right to head back toward your school, noting the loud hum of a car on the street, but you paid it no mind. You weren’t looking, the ear buds in your ears allowing you no warning of what was happening around you. Not a single sound left you when a large hand yanked you off the street by your arm, your wallet and sandwich falling onto the asphalt, the blood in your veins freezing alongside the rest of your body. The air left your lungs, your earbuds getting yanked out of your ears, your senses feeling fuzzy and unreliable. You couldn’t move, feebly trying to get your numb limbs to work as you were being shoved to the back of a blue van. You smelled cigarettes, dirt, the exhaust gas, your throat closing from panic. You didn’t have the time to think of anything, your mind blanking completely as some primal part of you tried to fight against the man who had grabbed you. Your chest hurt. You should have screamed, but you couldn’t. You could do nothing but let him manhandle you fully inside the van, your feet trying to push back pathetically, but it was useless. You knew how to fight, you knew how to land a mean punch on someone, yet when you would have most needed your self-defense skills, they were nowhere in sight.

You heard a loud bang, the unmistakable sound of a gun that only added to your panic. You couldn’t breathe, clawing more at your own throat than his forearm that was trying to suffocate you. The bullet hit the car, you were sure of it, but you didn’t get to ponder it for any longer, the second bullet hitting flesh. The man behind you went limp, his large frame pulling you back from the van and down to the ground with him. You clambered onto your knees in panic, staring down at him, eyes wide as you watched crimson seep into the cracks and crevices of the asphalt beneath you. Time stood still, the world stood still as you stared into death’s emotionless face, hearing someone yell, another shot sounding in the air. You looked at him beneath you, knelt on the ground as you just stared blankly.

“Y/N! Get in the car, myshka (little mouse).” That was your mother. You would’ve recognized her from anywhere, but you couldn’t move. It had all happened so fast. “Come on, honey. Lock the doors.” You tore your eyes off him when you felt a hand on your shoulder, your round eyes meeting your mother’s. You saw nothing, just let her help you up and guide you to the car. Your mind was wrapped in a thick, fuzzy veil of fear that didn’t allow you to process anything. You simply sat down in the passenger seat and watched your mother inspect the scene, truly not registering a single thing that was happening around you. The only thing you could think of was locking the doors. Lock the doors, honey. Lock the doors. Lock, door. Lock it. Lock. Your left hand found the console box, searching for the picture of a lock there, pressing it with unnecessary force, your fingers seeming to be disconnected from your body. You heard the click of the doors, the confirmation of your safety allowing you to relax a bit more into the car seat.

Natasha’s mind was slipping away from her, slipping into a state of such focus where all emotions were instantly disregarded and pushed to the very depths of her consciousness. She didn’t care that two men were dead, she would have done it again in a heartbeat to ensure your safety, her attention shifting to the vehicle in front of her. It wasn't a coincidence, she knew it wasn’t. She stepped over the body on the ground, yanking open the driver’s side door, getting inside to look for more information. She found nothing useful really, a bunch of car documents that she had no use for, a roll of tape, and a pack of cigarettes. She put her gun away, switching it to her phone, snapping pictures of anything that could be used as a lead. She needed to sweep the entire place before police came, looking for signs of something that they couldn’t even grasp as a concept. Natasha grabbed the roll of tape, getting out of the car to take pictures of both it and its license plate before kneeling beside the second man she had shot. She took a picture of his face, a close-up picture of his eye just in case it could be used to identify him, and searched his pockets. Finally, she grabbed the roll of tape and took his fingerprints, determined to identify him. She was not making the same mistake as last time. She would figure out who was after her daughter regardless of what it would require of her. Natasha performed the same procedure on the first man, collecting any means of identification from his fingerprints to DNA samples. The final thing she did before the police arrived was look through the back of the van to figure out what plans the two men had had for you, her vigilant eyes scanning the compartment for any signs of their intentions with you, but there was mostly trash there, no restraints, no drugs, nothing.

Natasha didn’t allow herself to feel the agitation that shot through her, refusing to give fear and concern any room in her messy mind as she tried to connect the dots, desperately attempting to recall if the two separate kidnapping attempts shared any similarities, her gut feeling telling her that it wasn’t just coincidence. Kidnappings, especially those perpetrated by complete strangers were not common enough to occur like that, and even if it had been nearly ten years since the last attempt, Natasha was not taking any chances. She wasn’t one to leave anything at the hands of fate and coincidence. She knew better than to blindly hope that it wasn’t indicative of something far more sinister. She knew to take action as soon as possible.

By the time she was done threatening the police officers for keeping her away from you for so long you had zoned out completely. You saw the police car lights flash in front of you, heard muffled sounds from outside the car, nervously playing with your fingers, scratching your hangnails until they bled. Natasha was angry, you saw it on her face as she rounded the hood of the car to the driver’s side of the vehicle, using her keys to unlock the door for her. The second the car door shut she pulled you into her embrace, a quiet sniffle sounding from her. You were shivering, unsure of what to do or say. Maybe there was nothing to say. Maybe you had just died, passed away. Maybe you no longer existed.

“You’re safe, baby. You’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.” She sounded panicked to your ear, like she needed to convince herself of the fact now that she had more room for emotions again. “Oi, Bozhe moy… (Oh, my god).” She switched to Russian, rambling quietly to you, doing her best to soothe the both of you. It was rather evident that it had done a huge number on her, your apathetic reaction to the situation coming off as unnerving to her. She knew how to deal with a screaming, crying, hysterical you, but what she had no experience with was an emotionless you. She pulled back to look at you, studying your face carefully, inspecting for tears, inspecting for even a speck of emotion on you, but came up short. “Smotri na menya, milaya. Vse khorosho, ladno (look at me, honey. Everything is okay, got it)?” You nodded slowly, your eyes closing when she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Mama otvezet tebya domoy (mommy will take you home).”

The rest of the afternoon went in a blur, you couldn’t quite recall anything. You just sat in your beanbag chair with Liho in your arms, staring down at the city. One minute you had been getting kidnapped and now you were home. You were home. Just like that, you were home, safe and sound. You couldn’t remember if Natasha had said something after making sure you weren’t physically injured, if she had told you something, or vice versa. Maybe you had told her that you wanted to be alone, or maybe she had something important to do. Why were you alone? Did you have something important to do? Your sandwich. That was there on the street, rotting away, getting trampled by pedestrians or perhaps stolen by a sewer rat. Your stomach grumbled. You should get something to eat. Yes, you would eat. It felt like the only thing that made sense to you in your disorganized mind. You got up from your seat, Liho hopping off you in protest, giving you a look for disturbing its sleep, but you barely noticed. Before you manage to get any further on your quest for finding food, the door to your room opened after a soft knock.

“Hey, solnishka (sunshine), I got your wallet.” Natasha offered your leather wallet that she had collected from the street after the incident, placing it on your desk when you made no move to grab it. You could see your earbuds coiled inside it, the earpieces peeking from the top. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m hungry.” You croaked out your response, your voice hoarse from the lack of using it.

“Why don’t you come into the kitchen with me, okay? I’ll make you something.” You nodded your head, moving to the door, her hand brushing softly down your back as you walked past her. The dining room table was littered with papers, files, notepads, and tablets, almost the entire surface covered by something that you assumed to be official documents. Natasha had immediately gotten to work. You stared at the mess as she opened the fridge, pulling out a jar of jam. You stared at the papers almost blankly, not really seeing or understanding much of it all, but what you did pay attention to was a large photo album with a leather cover. You felt guilt swallow you whole. You knew what that was, you shouldn’t, but you knew, the image of a wounded child –and not just any child, but your mother– flashing across your mind. You felt physical indisposition for recalling the image of the abused child that now stood behind you, her hand turning you around gently to face the kitchen. You shouldn’t have known so much about her. She had deserved her privacy, had wanted it. Otherwise she would have told you about it, shared it with you. There was a reason she hadn’t.

You ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, drinking a glass of juice with it, struggling to actually get down the food you had so persistently needed, guilt squeezing your throat, preventing you from swallowing effortlessly. You couldn’t even look at your mother. You didn’t want to be anywhere near her to avoid her vigilant eye. She would figure you out if you allowed her too close to you, and you could never tell her what you had found from within those leather covers. You had gone snooping for something that was none of your business. You had violated her privacy. She tried to talk to you about the events of the day, but you were in such a deep state of shock that not much came of it, Natasha deciding to leave you be for the time being to allow you your time and space, hoping you would begin to process what had happened on your own. It hurt her to see you so unresponsive, it hurt her to see you so much like herself. She craved to hold you, to squeeze you as hard as she could to ensure that you were physically right there in her arms, safe and sound, but she chose to respect your boundaries, deeming it to be the right choice, her focus shifting from you to an extensive analysis of decades old documents.

Natasha’s head ached from the stress of the day, her tired eyes trying vehemently to stay on the lines of worn-out ink, the letters and words getting jumbled up in her overworked mind. She shut her eyes for a moment, lying still on her bed over the covers, automatically recalling the blank look on your face as you had stared down at the man she had shot. She shook the image out of her head, refusing to blame herself for exposing you to such violence. It wasn’t her fault, it was theirs. She had only been protecting you. Natasha opened her eyes, her gaze locating the spot where she had left off as the door to her bedroom creaked open, your apprehensive eyes meeting hers. You didn’t say a word and neither did she, your feet taking you to her bed on their own. You crawled beside her and Liho, who was taking a nap, resting on your stomach with your head turned to the side to face Natasha before stilling completely. She waited for a moment for any signs of your mood or intentions, but nothing happened. You didn’t move, didn’t talk, just closed your eyes and remained unmoving. When you didn’t end up initiating any contact with her, she went back to reading through the stack of documents in her hands, eyeing you with consistent frequency as if waiting for you to speak. Nothing happened, nothing changed, you just lay there. Natasha grew uncomfortable, unnerved by your almost catatonic state, setting aside the papers in her hands, reaching for a book on her nightstand instead. She herself needed a break from the stressful day, opening the Russian novel from where she had left off. She began to read out loud without thinking about it much further, hoping that the familiar practice would at least soothe you and hopefully give you something else to think about.

You listened to Natasha’s even voice as she read the story for you, filling you in with any details that were essential to the plot. She explained to you how each of the characters were related to one another, allowing you to catch up with the novel as it went on. Your mother’s voice was smooth and low, a quiet murmur in her otherwise silent bedroom, an occasional huff sounding from Liho who was curled up tightly at the foot of the bed. The Russian flowed off her tongue in a beautiful, even hum that slowly but efficiently started to stir up something within you, an emotion so strong you couldn’t handle beginning to resurface. Your eyes glossed over, tears slipping from beneath your closed eyelids, rolling rapidly into the comforter beneath you. And then the feeling became unbearable, blood suddenly roaring in your ears as the emotions rushed to the surface, bursting out in a sudden, watery sob. Natasha’s voice cut off, her hands lowering the book down as her attention shifted fully to you, a blooming sense of relief spreading across her chest. You were feeling.

“It’s alright, baby girl”, she whispered tenderly, the book disappearing out of sight when she moved closer to you, her hand coming to the side of your head to caress your cheek.

“Mom-my.” You couldn’t get much else out of your mouth, sobbing with your whole chest as you released the fear that had gotten caught in your body, crawling closer to her for comfort. She wrapped you into her embrace, fitting your face into the crook of her neck as her arms encased you, holding you as tightly as humanly possible.

“I got you, detka (baby), I got you.” Natasha’s own vision blurred from tears, her heart hacking rather prominently in her chest as she herself tried to process the messy day behind you. There was much you would have wanted to say, but nothing came out, nothing but raw wails of pure emotion. You had been thoroughly startled by the accident, and nobody could blame you for your reaction to the horrible events, to the horrible possibilities that the men’s success might have entailed. You clung to your mother with both hands, gripping her shirt, her waist, her arm, her shoulder; anything you could hold onto in order to ground yourself and make yourself feel less like you were slipping away from everything you knew to be safe and secure.

“I- I c-can fight.” It came out in a rushed grumble filled with anger and frustration. You had been battling with the thought all day. You hadn’t been able to move at the most critical moment imaginable. You had frozen, forgotten how your limbs worked, forgotten how your mouth worked. You had been utterly and completely helpless even if you had years of self-defense training behind you. It angered you to no end that you hadn’t been able to defend yourself, your brain recalling possible combat moves you could have used to counter your opponent. It was an obsessive loop of correcting your mistakes, wearing you down to nothing.

“It’s not the same, baby. Your defense was down. You didn’t expect anyone to touch you, let alone grab you.” Just the mention of the danger you had been in made you wail all the more louder. You had been so scared, so, so scared. So scared, indeed, that there were no words for the fear you had felt. It was hands down the second most scary situation in your life ever, the first being when you had thought that your mother was dying. Nothing could compare to that. Your sobs grew quieter, but your face remained a snotty mess that wet Natasha’s neck and shirt as you continued to hiccup your way through your emotions, soothed by her firm embrace, by her hands that rubbed your back, by her quietly whispered words of reassurance.

“I can fight”, you whispered persistently as if in need of proving that somehow.

“You can, myshka (little mouse), you can.” Natasha kissed the side of your head.

“I can f-fight.”

“Shh, that’s right, milaya (honey), I know. We both know you can. You just got scared.” She kissed you again, her hands continuing to massage your body to hopefully help you release all that fear you had kept inside you that day. You were such a mess, slowly pulling out of your mother’s embrace to see her, small, sorrowful frowns on both of your faces.

“W-why… Why did they w-want me?” Natasha looked at you for a moment, she had her suspicions, but it was too early for her to share anything of the sort with you, not to even mention how vulnerable you were currently feeling.

“I don’t know, baby.” She cupped your cheek, caressing your jaw gently, her eyes threatening to fail at keeping her tears at bay.

“…trafficked.” Your voice was a weak, incoherent mumble, the mere thought of it making Natasha’s heart race. “And twice.” You hiccupped loudly, sniveling enough to make Natasha reach for a tissue on her nightstand. You remembered the first time you had almost fallen victim to kidnapping. You didn’t remember details, but you knew it had happened because Natasha had reminded you of it on many occasions in order to teach you how to stay safe. “Is it me?”

“No, honey.” It was most definitely you, and even more so, her. Natasha was the reason why anyone even realized to come after you. Just the fact that you were tied to her by legal contract was enough to put you in danger, hell, even being anywhere near her was enough. She wiped your nose and mouth, discarding the tissue back onto her nightstand until she would need it again. “This isn’t your fault, not even a little bit.” That was the truth. There was nothing you could have done to cause it. You were just trying to live your life. “Come here, baby, I’ll hold you.” Natasha sat up on the bed, scooching to lean against the headboard, prompting you to crawl into her embrace as you sniffled aggressively, settling sideways on the bed, so that your upper body was in her arms for her to cradle. It was never not comforting to be held by her, your tears resurfacing when she rocked you gently, her middle finger stroking the bridge of your nose. Her touch was gentle, loving; everything that you could have needed at the moment, your eyes sliding shut at the familiar gesture that never failed to soothe you. “It’s getting late. Try to get some rest, okay?” You nodded your head at her words, a soft hum sounding from above you as Natasha began to sing quietly to you, a familiar lullaby bringing a bittersweet ache to your chest. Please don’t take my sunshine away. The lyrics clawed at your heart, making you nuzzle your face against her in an attempt to be closer to her, in an attempt to escape the pain you felt, the exhaustion from the day allowing you to slowly drift into sleep as the lullaby occupied your mind.

It was foolish of you to think that you could escape the day by falling unconscious, the disturbing theme of the day following you right into dreamland, shadowing you like a curse that wouldn’t let go. You clambered up from the grimy floor as if you yourself had fallen into that wretched photograph you had found by accident from between the pages of that cursed photo album. Your hands got wet and muddy, you felt pain in your knees, a piercing ache reaching through the layer of skin all the way to your patellas. You were cold, freezing even, all your clothes gone. You saw nothing but darkness around you, an odd grumbling sound echoing around you, it came from a human, a man, but it was unintelligible. There was a sense of threat that remained present throughout your dreams, a sense of acute danger. You received a hit in the face, your body slamming onto the cold ground, your soft skin getting scraped up by the rough surface. You received another blow, and another, and another, until you just lay unmoving on the floor, your teary cheek pressed up against the thin layer of mud. The dream rewound to the beginning, the scene unfolding again, but with mild differences. You stood in the dark in front of a sturdy wall. You were looking up at someone, but you didn’t know who. You felt small, smaller than you were, your knees weak from the fear you felt. You were told to undress, so with shaky hands you started to pull up your shirt, tears streaming down your face. He told you to be faster, so you obliged out of the fear that he would hurt you. His eyes slid down your naked body, a wave of utter humiliation consuming you as your tears blurred your vision. His hand found your bare shoulder, pushing it down until your knees connected with the floor.

Your body flinched awake in the most violent way, your eyes taking in your bedroom that was partly lit by the rising sun. You felt like you were choking, your hands coming up to your throat as if to make sure the feeling wasn’t real, that you didn’t actually have anything there to choke you. Tears sprang to your eyes from the act you had been forced to commit, disgust and shame flooding every corner of your being. You glanced at the clock on your bedside, noting that you had woken up thirty minutes before your alarm. Your body relaxed into the bed as you came down from the panic caused by your dream, staring blankly at the ceiling. Every night. You had had the same nightmare every single night for the past month since your kidnapping attempt. You brought your hands to your face, rubbing your eyes and face. The dreams were getting worse, significantly so, your body physically recoiling as you recalled the nightmare. You felt nauseous. The dream from that night was by far the worst of its kind, your subconscious mind searching for every possible explanation for the picture of young Natasha you had seen months ago when moving into the new apartment. Regardless of whether you were getting beat, verbally abused, or even sexually assaulted, the common themes of disgust and humiliation remained consistent. You could never truly tell whether you were yourself in your dreams or if you were your mother, but despite the confusion it was clear that you had a lot to process in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why the picture was resurfacing in every aspect of your life, why you were dreaming of it all of a sudden. It only made the guilt you experienced a thousand times stronger. You couldn’t believe that you had ever gone snooping, ashamed of the things you had uncovered, a sense of wrongness consuming you from head to toe. You had done something wrong and you were now paying the price.

Unable to stand the lump of shame in your throat for any longer, you sat up in your bed, grabbing a thin hoop from your nightstand, sliding the piece of jewelry onto the wrist of your non-dominant arm, making sure the device was activated before heading for the bathroom. It was a disguised tracker that Natasha had gifted you a few days after the accident. You wore it both for your own comfort as well as hers. It allowed Natasha to follow your location at all times whether you had your phone with you or not. It was sturdy and efficient, yet very beautiful and discreet; sometimes you even forgot that you were wearing it. You did your morning routine, actively pushing away the way it had felt in your dream, the physical feeling of it, the restrictive ache in your throat. You stared at yourself as you sat before your vanity, looking at your teary eyes, forcing yourself to blink away their dampness, your hands bringing a mascara wand to your lashes, coating them in black. You didn’t wear much makeup, but in the new company you kept at high school you had grown to like it even if you had only dabbled in it slightly. You mostly wore mascara and tinted lip products, but it made you feel more adult and feminine, which you had started to prefer. Once your makeup was finished, you took a deep breath, focusing on keeping your emotions contained. You stood up and headed into the living room where Natasha was asleep on the couch, surrounded by documents that were littered all over the coffee table, carpet, and couch.

You got yourself a tall glass of water, your grip on it threatening to slip when your eyes landed on the thick, leather-cover album that sat innocently on the dining table again. That cursed album had been haunting you for weeks, always moping somewhere around the apartment, whether it was on Natasha’s desk, the coffee table, or the dining table. It was always somewhere in sight, like it was somehow after you, lurking behind every corner, there to remind you of what you had found inside it. You glared at the album in annoyance, switching on the coffee maker, grabbing Natasha’s favorite mug from the dishwasher, making yourself a slice of Nutella toast in the meantime. You ate your lacking breakfast, taking a couple of sips of coffee from Natasha’s cup before taking it to her into the living room.

“Mom, I made you coffee”, you whispered as you crouched over her, your hand finding her arm. She moved slightly, blinking her eyes open to see you. She was clearly exhausted. “I’ll walk to school. You can go back to sleep.” You had more time than you usually did, figuring that a long walk in the spring morning could hopefully soothe you and give you something else to think about.

“No.” She looked like she was about to sit up, your hand pushing her down before she could.

“I’ll be okay. I’ve got my bracelet. Go to sleep, mama.” You leaned down to kiss her cheek, pulling a blanket over her from the other end of the couch. She didn’t protest, clearly all too tired to start fighting. She knew she had your location, and she knew that she would get notified the second you so much as exited Manhattan, not to mention the alarm system that had been installed into the tracker. You could call for help with the press of a button. She knew you were safe. “I love you.” She responded to your words with a quiet mumble, burrowing deeper into the couch to rid herself of the exhaustion that lingered before she would down her coffee and get back to work.

Your school day wasn’t any better from your morning. You kept zoning out, your mind slipping away from you to visit your nightmare again. You could feel it in your body, feel the dream, the things you had done in it, the emotions, the pain you had experienced during it. You felt it physically in your body as you were sitting in English class, listening to one of your classmates read Shakespeare. You felt like you couldn’t breathe deeply enough, the events on repeat in your mind. You were sitting next to Anastasia, your eyes evading her face at all costs because you knew she was perfectly capable of seeing the way your eyes glossed over as your pulse picked up to a steady trot. You felt the panic rise inside you, your senses getting distorted. You felt too intensely, the weight of the guilt that crushed down your heart growing unbearable. You couldn’t keep your secret, you couldn’t carry it alone when you didn’t understand it, when you didn’t know what to do with it. You needed to get out.

“Ms Romanoff, it’s your turn.” You blinked your eyes, struggling to bring air into your lungs after realizing you had been holding your breath. You gave Anastasia a look, the widened position of your eyelids telling her that something was wrong. You didn’t answer your teacher, just slid out of your chair and slipped out of the classroom. You hurried down the hall in case anyone would come after you, hiding into one of the bathroom stalls for maximum privacy as your tears started to cascade down your cheeks. Sitting on the toilet seat, you fumbled for your phone, dialing your mother’s number. You didn’t want to stay in school for longer, you couldn’t. You had already absentmindedly waded through half of the day and could barely keep down your lunch from the overdrive your body was in. It was too much for you. No one knew about it, no one but you. You hadn’t even told your new therapist about it because you didn’t trust her enough to discuss something so vulnerable with her. You were currently seeing her twice a week to mentally work through the scare you had suffered, most of your sessions spent on unpacking the traumatic kidnapping attempt and the anxiety it had brought back, which left you to battle the thoughts and emotions regarding the disturbing image all by yourself.

“Mom…” You knew that your tone would be enough to get her into a car with the engine running. “I wanna come home.”

“What’s wrong, kroshka (little one)?” She sounded concerned, her gentle way of speaking heightening your sensitivity, your tears falling even faster.

“I want home.” You couldn’t explain the feeling in any other way. You wanted to go home where you would be safe with her, where you could be yourself, feel all that you needed to feel without having to hide from anyone.

“I’ll come pick you up right away. Do you want to stay on the phone?” You could hear through the phone how she picked up her car keys and left the apartment.

“No, it’s okay.” You needed a moment to cry, just you and your feelings alone in the grimy bathroom.

“Alright, myshka (little mouse), it won't be long.” You nodded your head out of habit, saying your goodbyes before hanging up. You let out a sob, the sound echoing in the stall as you curled in on yourself, wishing to be held by someone. The sobs fell off your lips in urgent strings that couldn’t be held back, even if you had tried, the worst of your anxiety pouring out with force. You cried for as long as your body needed, your tears wetting the sleeves of your shirt as you pressed them to your eyes to dry them, smearing your mascara everywhere. You heard the door go, your heart skipping a beat at the invasion of your privacy, prompting you to compose yourself again. You silenced yourself immediately, pressing your mouth against your arm to snuff out any sound you might have made.

“Y/N?” It was Anastasia. You tried to swallow down your sobs and seize your tears before you spoke but your voice came out squeaky.

“Yeah?”

“Let me in.” You saw her shoes peek from beneath the door, the very tips of her converse in your line of sight. You reached forward for the lock, allowing her to open her door. She gave you a sad frown, clearly looking for an explanation, those hazel eyes soft and pleading. “What’s wrong, babe?” Your cheeks flushed with heat at the nickname she had used for you, despite knowing it meant nothing because she used it with everyone. You looked up at her through your tears, unable to even begin to explain what you felt or what was even going on. Your friends knew about your kidnapping, it had been on the news, and although your name had never been disclosed, you had told your friends about it by your own means, looking to share the burden of it with those closest to you.

“Anxiety.” It was the easiest way to encapsulate your current demeanor, and it was an easy enough concept for others to understand. Anastasia knew you suffered from anxiety at times; it really was the best explanation for the time being.

“Is it about something specific?” She got inside the stall, pulling you into a hug, your face pressing right into her chest as she wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly. You welcomed the gesture, in great need of physical affection to get you through what was about to turn into an anxiety attack.

“It’s just nightmares.” It felt a bit stupid to admit that you were reacting so strongly over a nightmare, but it was only Anastasia, she wouldn’t judge.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She sounded relieved to know that it wasn’t anything more serious, but her arms tightened around your shoulders regardless.

“Mom’s picking me up. It’s fine”, you mumbled into her breasts, pulling away when you realized your face shouldn’t have been anywhere near there, your stomach lurching slightly as you looked up at Anastasia. She gave you a smile, her cool hands finding your cheeks as she cupped your face, her thumbs wiping your tears off. You wanted back into her embrace. You wanted to smell her fruity vanilla perfume. You wanted her to touch you more, hold you for longer, but you pulled away fully, refusing to listen to your desires.

“Good. I’ll let the teacher know.” She looked at you for a moment as if wanting to ask something, assessing your mood. “You okay, cutie?” You let out a watery chuckle, pleased to notice that the tension in your body had dissipated slightly.

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

“Okay.” She held your gaze, those intense hazel eyes keeping you hooked regardless of your own will; you couldn’t look away from her. Your phone buzzed, alerting you of Natasha’s arrival. “Go get some rest. You look like a panda bear.” She tried to clean up your under eyes gently, but your mascara seemed to remain unaffected.

You said goodbye to Anastasia who was kind enough to go get your stuff from the classroom, so that you wouldn’t have to show your teary, mascara-smudged face to all your classmates. She would have walked you to the car but your teacher didn’t allow it. You found Natasha from the street, waiting at the front doors, clearly agitated to see what kind of condition you were in. She gave you a small pout, your walking pace quickening slightly at the sight of her. You fell into her arms, pressing your face into her scarf, craving to smell her perfume, craving confirmation that she was right there for you.

“What’s wrong, malyshka (baby)?” The gentle voice she always used with you when you were hurt brought back the tears twice as intensely as before, the guilt finally consuming you completely, bringing you to a breaking point.

“I’m sorry!” You wailed far louder than you had intended to, the words coming out of you in rushed sob.

“Sorry? Honey, what’s going on?” Natasha tried to pull back but you clung to her as hard as you could, crying for the girl who had been beaten and bruised for all her life, the girl who was now your mother. “Baby, you’re scaring me”, she whispered in your ear, her hand cupping the back of your head to hold you closer.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

“I wanna go home”, you whimpered, but remained in her arms, refusing to move.

“We’ll go home, milaya (honey). Come on, angel.” She pulled away from you carefully, tugging you to the sidewalk and taking you to the car as you wiped your eyes aggressively, gently guided onto the passenger seat. You put your seatbelt on, collecting yourself a bit as your mother got inside as well. “Everything will be okay.” She gave your thigh a small, comforting squeeze, the act paired with a soft smile. You tried to return her smile but failed, shooting a grimace her way instead. She pulled you closer to kiss your face, wiping your tears before getting the car running. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not here.” You didn’t wanna be in the middle of traffic with her when you didn’t know how she was going to take the news. You had a very strong feeling that she was not going to be exactly thrilled about it, and the mentioning of her childhood could easily bring some unwanted memories to the surface. You sat in silence the whole ride home, obsessively practicing in your head how you were going to tell her. Your hands trembled, fingertips numbing from nerves. You knew she wasn’t going to be mad at you. That wasn’t what you were afraid of. You were afraid of hurting her. You were afraid to possess such knowledge about another person especially when you hadn’t been entrusted with it, but had gone behind her back instead and found it out by your own means.

“I saw something...” That was your opening line once you had finally made it to your apartment and were sat on the couch, ready to discuss your predicament. “That I shouldn’t have.” Natasha co*cked her head, curiosity pushing through her worry. What could have possibly caused you to react so strongly?

“What was it?” The look you gave her was filled with apprehension, her features softening at the evident worry on your face.

“You can tell me anything. There’s nothing in this world that I can’t handle.” She smirked at you, earning a little huff of amusem*nt.

“I’m really sorry.” She looked confused by your apology, unable to figure out what she had to do with any of it.

“What did you see, honey?” She was expecting perhaps a video on the internet, maybe something along the lines of p*rn, or gore; something that could have shocked your young mind.

“I found this album… back when we moved in.” Natasha’s features fell into a little frown that made you not want to continue. Her eyes looked tormented, like she had already put it together. “I thought the clothes were mine so I started unpacking them, and I found this album filled with documents and pictures from the Red Room.” Your cheeks were once more streaked with tears as you recalled the image. “I looked through a bunch of them…” You trailed off. You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t voice out what you had seen, the sense of guilt and shame so strong that you had trouble processing it. “I didn’t mean to.” You hiccupped loudly, trying not to choke on the pressure that squeezed your throat. You let out a sob. Natasha was speechless. She had no way of addressing something so cruel, not when she could barely process it herself. When she didn’t comment, you continued. “I started having nightmares… about this one pic-picture.” You sniffled loudly, wiping your nose into your sleeves. “After the kidnapping attempt.”

“Which picture?” Natasha was uncharacteristically cold, and that scared you.

“You were maybe eight… naked.” You felt like throwing up, your stomach twisting harshly, nausea tickling your throat. Natasha shut her eyes, turning her face away from you. For a moment she thought she was going to be sick, her head spinning hard enough for her to almost lose her composure.

“Mom? I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” You cried again, unable to do anything else. It was all your fault. Natasha stayed unmoving for a while, not allowing you to see the battle she had to fight in order not to break down right then and there.

“Shh, it’s okay.” She turned to look at you, grasping your hand for her to hold. “I’m not mad.”

“But you’re hurt.” You were a complete and utter mess, your teary face clawing at Natasha’s already aching heart.

“I’m not, I’m alright.”

“No.” You knew she wasn’t. It was rather evident to you no matter how skillful she was at feigning confidence. You knew her better than anyone else ever had.

“It’s okay. Come here, baby girl.” She pulled you into her arms, your head falling against her shoulder. “Tell me about the dreams.” You gave her a pleading look, asking for her to give room to her emotions as well, but as a mother she found it impossible to burden you with her worries. You began a bit hesitantly, unsure of how to word everything, how to voice the things that made you feel dirty and disgusting.

“In my dreams… I’m in that picture. I don’t know what they did… to you.” You gulped down air, taking in a ragged breath. “But it’s like my brain keeps guessing for me. Sometimes he hits me or kicks me. He says all these mean things. He’s really scary.” You let out a heavy sigh, trying to get rid of the anxiety you felt. “The dreams are so realistic. It’s like I can feel everything, but not quite.” Natasha kissed your head, her hand brushing over your hair and down your arm. Her mind and body were falling into panic. She knew exactly what had happened before that picture because the authorities in her life would never let her forget. She was never able to let go of the abuse, no matter how hard she pretended to have done so. “Then last night he did something he hadn’t before. He made me do stuff…” You could physically feel the disgust take over you. You could feel it in your body, feel the shame stir in the pit of your stomach. You felt filthy. Natasha sniffled, moving her hand up to wipe away her tears. She couldn’t speak, eternally thankful that you continued to explain yourself.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. All of it… That could have been me.” You stared ahead, playing with your fingers to ease your nerves. “If you had never taken down the Red Room, that would have been me.” As you continued to voice out your thoughts you began to find comfort in it. The pieces that you had always possessed started to click together, allowing you to see the full picture, allowing you to understand the connection between the kidnapping attempt and the image that had been haunting you for longer than you truly realized. You weren’t alone with your endless theories about your mother’s past and your kidnapping. You had someone there to listen to you. “And then now… if I had been taken, I could’ve easily ended up in a place like that.” Natasha’s arms tightened around you as if trying to prevent you from floating away even if you had remained completely still. She still couldn’t talk, couldn’t say a word, so you both stayed silent as you allowed the situation to settle in. You felt better now that you had confessed your secret to her, but you could tell that the pain hadn’t gone anywhere, it had simply been passed down to Natasha instead. You felt a bit tentative about her emotional state. You didn’t know if you could ask about it, if you should try to address it.

“What did they do to you?” Your voice was small, tentative, very obviously pained.

“I’m not telling you. You don’t have to know.” She said it so bluntly, like you were getting on her nerves.

“Mom, please. It’s been eating away at me. I have to know.” You pulled back, so you could see her face, hoping that your teary eyes would give you what you needed.

“No.” You saw the redness in her eyes, on her nose and cheeks. She was holding in her tears, no matter how wounded she was.

“You lied to me. You told me they didn’t hurt you more. You said they only did the hysterectomy.” You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn’t have used her lies from years ago to demand for answers, but you needed to know because your mind was driving itself insane trying to figure out what had happened to the poor girl in that picture. “Mommy.” You broke into tears again. You had to know.

“No, baby.” She brushed her knuckles up your jaw, frowning softly as her tears finally escaped. “It wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You lied.” You had thought that the Red Room had been just a strict institution. You thought it was a boarding school of horrors where you got slapped on the fingers for having the wrong answer. You had naively trusted that no one could be cruel enough to actually hurt the girls at the school. You had naively trusted that your mother had been telling the truth.

“I know, kroshka (little one). I was just trying to protect you.”

“They hurt you all the time, didn’t they?” There was a hint of accusation in your tone. “They were horrible, weren’t they?” Natasha nodded her head, more tears streaming down her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You were growing defiant in nature; bold and confident.

“You were far too young.” Natasha gained back her voice and authority through her definitive attitude, unwilling to listen to your demanding tone. You were not going to order her around nor act like you had any right to know a single thing about her past.

“I’m not anymore.”

“You are. End of story. I’m not telling you. It’s in the past. It’s not going to make a difference.”

“They raped you...” The entire living room stood still as you stared at each other. “Didn’t they?” Natasha felt her throat close, her teary eyes holding your pained gaze, your desperate frowns mirroring each other. She sighed heavily, nodding her head in defeat. There was no use in pretending when you already knew. All you were asking was confirmation for something you had already figured out. “Wha-”

“We’re not talking about this anymore.” Natasha stood up, physically removing herself from the situation, your eyes widening in shock.

“Why not? I have the right to know!” You stood up as well, gaining a bit of anger and frustration into your demeanor.

“No, you do not!” Her tone was stern, scary even. She rarely, if ever, spoke to you that way.

“Yes, I do. That could have been my fate.” You were pushing back, testing your limits. Natasha could very clearly see that you were no longer just a naive child who would listen to her every word. You had your own opinions, needs, and desires, some of which deviated from hers.

“Why would you want to know? I pray every day that I didn’t remember a single second of it.” She sounded so genuinely wounded that it made your entire body tremble from anguish. “You should’ve never gone snooping. This was none of your business to begin with.” Her voice cracked slightly, tears escaping, rolling rapidly down her cheeks until she wiped them away curtly. “You better thank your lucky f*cking star it wasn’t you!” She spat out the words, letting them linger in the silent living room as she turned around and left the scene. Her anger had more to say, so much more, but she couldn’t let herself slip up again. There was too much at stake. You simply watched her leave, unsure of what to do or how to react. What could you even do? It all hurt so much, so unbelievably much. Her words didn’t exactly get to you, not as much as the tone they had been spoken with. You barely recognized her, the anger behind her words lingering in your mind. She was angry at you. She was never angry at you. She wasn’t supposed to be at least, yet she clearly was. You didn’t know how to react to that. You knew you had gone poking around what was likely the most vulnerable part of her, and as you sat there in the aftermath, you realized that you had pushed her too far.

Chapter 51: Slippery slope

Chapter Text

Natasha’s bedroom door closed with a bang, her tears streaming freely down her cheeks the second she was able to escape your eye. Her throat felt tight, her breath weak and insufficient in her lungs. She could feel herself lose her composure, her carefully crafted brick wall starting to crumble from the very foundation of the structure, bringing her defense down in the matter of a few seconds. She sucked in more air, crawling onto her bed to avoid the embarrassment of her knees giving in. She needed more oxygen, but somehow there didn’t seem to be enough of it in the air. She buried her face into the comforter to hide her face, muffle her cries. She tried to escape the embarrassment that she felt for her emotional reaction. She tried to somehow escape herself, but it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t escape herself. She had tried to succeed at it all her life, but wherever she went and whatever was happening around her, she was always there, she and her tormented mind.

She wiped her eyes harshly, but in vain, her tears always replaced by fresh ones. Her body hurt, her soul hurt. She remembered it all. She remembered how scared she had been, how ashamed. She could recall in vivid detail how much she had wished to leave her body and float away. She had wished to die, just to make it stop. She had wished to die, just to forget about the memories. She felt so wounded as she lay there, haunted by memories from decades ago. She felt helpless. She knew there was no escape. There had never even been a chance of escaping the Red Room because it was so deeply ingrained into her being. She was the Red Room. Everything they had ever taught her, done to her, given her was still somewhere deep within her. Every piece of trauma, every type of behavioral model, her way of thinking, her way of feeling, perceiving, the world around her. She was a carefully constructed and thoroughly manipulated persona, and she had never had a say in a single part of the process of shaping her into what she had become. She was a pure product of pain and suffering, an embodiment of cruelty.

Natasha sobbed, she sobbed, and she sobbed as quietly as possible, violently trying to restrain herself from feeling. She didn’t want to feel, she couldn’t feel because the pain was so all-consuming and debilitating that her poor heart couldn’t take it. She dug her fingernails into the soft skin of her upper chest, wishing to claw out her heart to rid herself of the ache that pulsed through her. She wanted it gone, she wanted to turn off her humane side and become the robot that she had once been. She wanted to be ruthless again, numb to the world because not feeling at all, even if those feelings would have been positive, was better than feeling what she felt at the moment. Nothing, nothing, in the world could compare to the agony she was going through.

You stood in the living room, still as a statue, staring ahead in the ominous silence of the room that followed the stark bang of the door. What had you done? What the f*ck had you done? You felt your eyes fill with tears, your fingers trembling slightly from the agitation that coursed through you. You wanted to take it back, unsay all the foolish words that had spilled from your lips. You wanted to wave your finger in the air and make everyone forget about the last forty minutes of the afternoon. You should have never opened your mouth. You should have never asked for your questions to be answered. You should have never told her a single thing. And above all, you should have never looked through that photo album when you knew it wasn’t yours to touch. Regret consumed you, regret and panic. You were surrounded by uncertainty and the unknown, facing uncharted waters on your own. Normally you would have had your mother by your side, there to hold your hand, kiss away your tears, but she was on the opposite side of the daunting body of water you had to wade through. She was the body of water, and no one was there to hold your hand through it. You craved her comfort, her guidance. You didn’t know what to do or how to proceed forward. You had never been in a situation so serious, so complex. Were there rules to how you were supposed to approach the matter? Was Natasha perhaps expecting something of you? Or maybe she didn’t want to see you ever again, you wouldn’t, if you were her, but you could not push aside the natural instinct that you felt for the need to apologize. It was the only thing you knew to do in a situation where you had hurt someone. All you could do was apologize and promise that you would do better in the future.

With that thought in mind you followed Natasha’s footsteps to her bedroom door, standing there awkwardly, unsure whether you were allowed to open the door or not. You felt apprehensive for her reaction, your vigil ears listening for any signs of movement inside the room. Your hand rested over the doorknob, ready to turn it to the side to let yourself in when you heard a quiet sob, the small, tiny sound eliciting a wave of dread that rattled you from head to toe. If there was one thing you could not handle, it was your mother crying. You backed away from the door, too horrified by what you had done, too afraid to truly see the damage you had caused, deciding to leave her alone. Tears cascaded down your face and neck as you hurried into your room to hide from the consequences of your own actions, your emotions billowing out of you on their own, splattering all over the walls of your bedroom. You couldn’t hold in a single sob, openly wailing in your room as you searched for your school bag, digging out your phone. You needed comfort from someone, and you already happened to have someone on your mind, your fingers automatically opening up your chat with Anastasia. She had the most experience in fighting with mothers, and you happened to trust her the most when it came to your personal relationships. You spent the entire evening debriefing the events with her, trying to find answers on what you should do next. You vented out your emotions to her, pouring every last bit of your agony first into the chats and then into a call once Anastasia was out of school.

Late in the evening when dinner time rolled around, you left your room, your face itchy from your dried tears, eyes burning from the salty liquid that had made the skin irritated. You stared at Natasha’s closed door as you walked by it, not hearing a single peep from behind it. You got yourself some leftovers from the fridge, expecting the door to open at any moment, but it remained closed. It hurt to be shut out so literally. You felt devastated by the concrete obstacle that separated you both, that closed door daunting you all the way from the hallway. It remained shut. The next morning when you woke up for school, there were no changes to the state of the apartment. She hadn’t left her room once from what you could tell. You wished she would have come out, wished she would have taken you to school because you felt particularly anxious and unsafe that morning, but you simply put your bracelet on, fidgeting vigorously with it as you stepped out the door, and went to school. You almost expected everything to be back to normal once you came back from school and practice in the evening, but the apartment felt as cold and empty as it had in the morning, maybe even more so. Liho came to greet you at the door, purring softly at your feet. You gave it scratches, noting the loud, demanding meows that made you realize that no one had fed it. Just to make sure that you were correct, you headed into the kitchen to take a look at Liho’s food bowl; it was empty with no signs of wet cat food. Liho meowed loudly, begging for the food that it hadn’t been given all day, your brows pulling into an empathetic frown as you filled the cup until it was overflowing with tuna jelly.

Your heart ached as you watched Liho eat, petting its black fur, deep in thought, worn down by stress. Once Liho was satisfied with its meal, it followed you into your bedroom where you spent the rest of the evening pondering your situation. Should you go and knock on the door? Was Natasha even home anymore? Maybe she had abandoned you to live on your own. You were almost sixteen. You were getting too old for the foster system, and no one was going to adopt a teenager. You would simply have to start building a life of your own. You shook your head for your ridiculous thoughts. Natasha wasn’t gone, she couldn’t be. You stared at the door every time you walked past it as if willing Natasha to come out so you could solve the situation, but the door remained shut. You had stood behind it on multiple occasions that day, but any time you tried to open it, or even just open your mouth, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You didn’t want to know how bad things were, how mad she was at you, how hurt she truly was, so you waited.

You were finishing up your homework when you heard the front door open and close, your head popping up immediately from the sheet of algebra you had been working on, listening intently for more. You got up from your desk chair, walking right into the kitchen and living room to look for Natasha, almost startled by the sight of her at the kitchen island. Your eyes met, the look in them making you cower in shame. You didn’t dare to speak as she opened the large pizza box on the table, her eyes remaining on some papers that sat on the counter. She grabbed herself a slice and picked up the papers from the table. You took a few tentative steps closer to her, her eyes finding you again as if reminded that you were still there.

“Eat.” She nudged the pizza box into your direction, your hands coming up to stop it from sliding to the floor. She didn’t say anything else, simply started walking away with her eyes glued on the papers in her hand.

“Mom.” She slowed down at the sound of your voice, slowly turning toward you, struggling to tear her eyes off the text she was reading.

“What?” It was such an efficient manipulation tactic whether intentional or not, whether you realized it or not, the result was the same. You felt like a nuisance, an afterthought that had to beg for her attention.

“I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t trying to…”, you began desperately, trying to somehow make things right and find a way to help you both process the argument. Your fingers fidgeted with the cardboard of the pizza box in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

“I know you didn’t mean it. It’s alright. You’re forgiven, milaya (honey).” She nodded softly. Her words were comforting, but the tone she spoke them with was void of emotion. She made it sound like a rehearsed script that she was forced to recite.

“Is there anything I can do?” You couldn’t just give up. This couldn’t be your new reality. There had to be something that you could do to make it better.

“There’s nothing you can do.” She went back to her papers, walking back into her room, clearly finished with the conversation, if you could even call it that.

The next day when you came home from school you saw a single, empty tea mug on the counter as a sign of her existence, other than that you didn’t see her all day. You didn’t talk to her much, saw her rarely. She was falling into a depressive episode, all the joy of New York City fading away in the blink of an eye. She was stuck in her bed, no longer possessing the energy to get up to take you to school, since you could do it just fine by yourself. She had no energy for anything. She didn’t cook, mostly ordered take out for you, sometimes she left you no other choice but to order or cook for yourself. She didn’t clean, she didn’t go to work. She simply lay in her bed, staring at the walls, the ceiling, a large portion of her time spent looking at files and documents. She went through the album often, skimming through the pages, staring at the photographs. You had caught her once, having dared to take a peek into her room through the cracked door. She had been asleep which had encouraged you to take a better look at her room. You had discovered the album from her pillow, lying beside her after she had fallen asleep with it. You were truly helpless. Not even Anastasia had the ability to give you advice on what to do about it all, prompting you to reach out to your family.

You spoke to Clint first because he had always been somewhat of a Natasha-whisperer. He knew her better than anyone, but you didn’t end up liking his advice. He suggested that you should give her time, but you didn’t have time. You were too anxious to let everything play out on its own. You needed to do something because not doing anything was driving you crazy. So, you reached out to Steve, who had no better advice, sending you Wanda’s way next. Slowly but surely, you had your entire family concerned about Natasha’s well-being. They all tried to reach her through mobile from whatever part of the world they were in, but she refused to respond to anyone. You watched her grow more absent-minded, fall deeper inside her head with every sleepless night that passed, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Natasha didn’t have to explain to you what you had done wrong, you had managed to piece it together by yourself. You had been all too eager to know more, your desire to know reaching an unacceptable level of entitlement. You had very quickly realized why your behavior hadn’t been appropriate and why your mother had reacted the way she had. You saw how hard the argument had hit her, you saw exactly how much pain she held inside, and you felt immediate remorse for your actions. You had not only pushed her boundaries but crossed them already for a second time regarding the same topic. You had wanted answers, but it had cost you more than what you were willing to pay. You had apologized to her, done everything you possibly could have thought of to make up for it, yet none of it seemed to be enough. She was changing. She was slipping away from you, falling into a loop of absence and obsession, and it was all your fault, no matter how much your new therapist tried to tell you that it wasn’t. You knew what you had done. You had been there, and you were now forced to face your own creation.

On the sixth morning in your own personalized hell, you decided that you weren’t going to school that day. You decided it the second you walked out of your bedroom to find Natasha hunched over the kitchen island, her tired eyes barely open as she stared at a folder before her. She hadn’t slept again; it was more than evident on her grim face. You couldn’t leave her alone. She looked haunted, thoroughly tormented. Her hair was a wild mess, skin looking awfully pale and dull. She had worn the same clothes for multiple days now, resembling more and more of an empty shell rather than your beloved mother. You couldn’t even look at her without your heart aching in the most agonizing way. She needed help. You had been texting and calling half your family for the past week to get help of any kind, but all of them were busy and in completely opposite parts of the country, doing their own thing. Tony wouldn’t have been of much help even if he hadn’t been on vacation with his family. Steve was visiting Bucky in Europe. Wanda couldn’t leave the twins home because Vision was working on some project that took up most of his time. You had even tried your luck with Yelena, but she was in Russia. She didn’t tell you why, she barely had the time to text you back, which you found odd, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. Clint was conveniently enough following some lead many states away from you, but he had thankfully found the time to talk to you and comfort you through the challenging times.

You approached your mother, your hands finding her messy hair to push it back, allowing you to see her face properly, she didn’t look at you, her eyes remaining on the pages spread on the table like she might die if she stopped, her gaze struggling to stay focused as it blurred the text into an incomprehensible mess. You pulled her into a hug, not caring that she was unresponsive. You needed to hug her, you needed to do everything in your power to comfort her, regardless of whether she wanted it or not. You needed her.

“Mama”, you whimpered, holding her even tighter, Natasha’s rather limp arm coming up to your waist to hug you back, yet it felt like there was nothing but a ghost left of her. “Pozhaluysta, mama. Prosti menya (Please, mom. Forgive me).” She seemed to lean her head against yours a little tighter, lean further into you.

“Ty proshchenaya (you’re forgiven).” She had said it many times, but it never quite felt like it was true, not when you saw the damage you had done to her every day and saw how day by day it got worse. You couldn’t be a coward anymore, you had to make her see you, make her hear you. She couldn’t ignore you like that, neglect your existence. She had responsibilities, responsibilities that demanded her attention more than whatever seemed to have such an iron-tight grip on her attention, yet nothing could quite compete with the endless files that you couldn’t comprehend. You had lost all meaning to her, everything had lost its meaning, everything but the files and documents that had started it all.

You heard a knock at the front door, the sound of it halting your intentions of pleading for her to snap out of it. You frowned to yourself, pulling away from the forced hug, Natasha’s head nearly turning toward the door at the sound, but it didn’t quite manage to shake her focus. You weren’t expecting anyone, but you couldn’t deny your relief, hoping that someone from your family had finally found the time and means to come over to take a proper look at your situation. You left Natasha at the kitchen island, heading to the front door, swinging it open as if expecting to be met with your saving grace.

“Hey, we’ve met a few times.” You stared at Maria Hill rather blankly, caught completely off guard by her presence. “I’m Maria.” You knew Maria. You had met her maybe once or twice briefly when she had been visiting the Avengers compound to take care of business. You stared at her, a bit dumbfounded, but let her in regardless.

“Yeah, a few years ago, right?” You could barely recall the day because it had felt so insignificant and unimportant, merely something happening in the background.

“Yes… I heard from Clint”, she said rather grimly as she stepped inside, your eyes taking in her brown hair that had been pulled into a slick bun at the back of her head, a few strands framing her face, her clothes giving off a very official impression to you. Maria took a few steps past you to peek into the living room, her eyes landing on Natasha’s sunken form. You noticed the frown that appeared on her face. Natasha didn’t even react to Maria’s arrival. Maria turned to you, giving you an apologetic look. “I’ve seen her like this before. She’ll be alright. She’s just going to need some assistance.” Maria’s words struck you deeper than you had expected. Here she was, standing in your home, talking about your mother like they had known each other forever, yet you hadn’t heard a word about her in ages. Maria walked toward Natasha like she knew exactly what to do. You watched intently as Maria placed her hand on Natasha’s shoulder, alerting the latter of her presence.

“Hi. What are you doing here?” Natasha asked, her words slurring slightly as she spoke, voice hoarse and almost squeaky, her hand coming up to her face to rub her eye. She was exhausted, and very clearly so. “What time is it? Shouldn’t Y/N be at school?”

“Yes, she should, but we’re just gonna make sure that you’re alright first.” Natasha frowned, glancing at you. Her brain required a bit of extra effort to catch onto what was going on.

“I’m fine. Take her to school for me.”

“No, mom.” You sounded all too childish, which was doing nothing positive to your credibility. You weren’t old enough to take care of her, you weren’t adult enough to handle such business. Natasha gave you a look.

“Go to school. I mean it, Y/N.” You weren’t really one to go against your mother’s word, not when you were currently staring at the end result of the last time you had resisted her. Maria stepped toward you as if ready to take you, but you shook your head.

“Don’t bother. I’ll go by myself.” You could comfort yourself with the fact that you weren’t leaving Natasha alone and there was someone else more capable than you trying to figure her out. Maybe in some ways you were even relieved that her fate was no longer only on your shoulders. You grabbed your school bag and were out the door in five minutes, leaving Natasha and Maria into the kitchen. The front door let out a firm bang that was loaded with your emotional frustration, Natasha and Maria sitting in pure silence. Maria wasn’t sure where to begin, how to address the situation, her eyes going around the kitchen and living room to assess the mess that you had clearly tried to tackle in some parts of the room by tidying the space up a bit. Maria waited for a moment, searching for words, looking for a way to touch up on the elephant in the room without being too straightforward. She knew Natasha wasn’t the most open person in the world, and she knew that excessive poking around would only tangle Natasha up into tighter knots.

“They want their widows back.” Maria hadn’t expected Natasha to speak but now that she had, Maria directed her full attention on what Natasha was saying. “They either want Y/N back for some reason, or they are using her to get to me. Either way, someone is tracking her. I haven’t been able to figure out their plan exactly.” It was like Natasha had been taken over by a different entity, her exhaustion suddenly gone as she finally got to express everything that she had been piecing together for the past week. She fell into a sort of frantic rambling, like she was running out of time expressing herself. “The other widows haven’t reported similar activity. There are no proper leads. I’ve got Clint after one on the west coast. I- I think he’s in Portland now. And I’ve got Yelena in Russia near Moscow after another lead.” Maria’s eyes widened as she listened to the fast-paced monologue, straining her ears to avoid missing a single word of it. “I started looking more into it after the kidnapping attempt.” Natasha seemed to realize that Maria was not caught up with anything about your lives, immediately filling her in. “Y/N nearly got kidnapped after school by these two unidentified males. They don’t seem to be on record anywhere. I have no idea who they are or where they came from, but there is no way it's a coincidence. I know funny business when I see it.” Maria seemed slightly concerned by Natasha’s demeanor, but gently urged her on nonetheless. “The first time around when they attempted to take her, she was six. Back then I could still excuse it as a random attempt because those do happen occasionally, but this isn’t just coincidence anymore. It can’t be. Everything’s connected, everything. And what connects these incidents are the unidentified men. They have fake IDs that lead from one alias to another. I have no clue who they actually are. Their fingerprints are connected to a dozen different identities. Someone’s done a careful job with them. The identities are watertight. No one seems to recognize them. But…” Natasha got up from her seat, pointing at the documents on the table, growing even more frantic to show all the proof she had to Maria. “Look at these.” She brought more evidence to Maria, scattering images around from surveillance footage of various different locations, showing her photos of license plates, state numbers, credit cards, and passports. Maria stared at the full-blown investigation before her, her gaze moving up to meet Natasha’s. She looked crazy. It was like she was slowly driving herself insane, digging a deeper hole for herself, hundred percent willing to sacrifice her well-being for answers.

“Look at these two aliases. They match in style and they’re from the same year despite the ten-year gap between the kidnapping attempts. The first man who tried to get Y/N has a passport from the same exact date as the other man from the recent incident. They’ve got to be connected. I got Clint after the first man, who is allegedly called Gary, but that’s obviously bullsh*t.” It was like she couldn’t stop, Maria’s understanding eyes following Natasha around as she paced around the apartment, collecting all the evidence she could possibly find. Maria looked at the album that was splayed open on the kitchen counter, looking down at the yearly headshots of Natasha, a slight, sorrowful smile appearing on her face as she allowed her fingertips to caress over the innocent girl that stared back at her. “Come here”, Natasha ordered, taking a seat on the couch to show the second section of her research and investigation, the mess on the coffee table turning out to be an intricately detailed collection of evidence. Maria sat next to Natasha, allowing her to blabber her mouth off about each individual piece of evidence. She saw a possibility for a lead in every single piece of information. Nothing was off the table for her. Maria knew that Natasha was intelligent. Maria had always known that Natasha was capable of more than just physical labor and exertion, but seeing such a concrete display of her brilliance reached an extent Maria hadn’t expected to witness. Despite the deceptive and unreliable exterior Natasha was sporting, it was rather clear that she was not crazy. She was truly onto something. “You see it, don’t you?” Natasha’s eyes were wide, boring into Maria’s with such intensity that she couldn’t look away, those green irises pleading to be heard. Maria nodded her head softly.

“Yes, I see it, Tasha. You’re not crazy.” Maria’s voice was barely there, sucked out by the tense atmosphere of the living room. Natasha seemed to have been ready to fight harder to prove herself, she seemed prepared to show more evidence, explain herself even further, caught off guard by the lack of need for it. She seemed to relax at the confirmation she got, relieved that she had gotten the chance to vomit out the burden that had been weighing her down. She slumped against the couch, both of them sitting in sudden silence as they processed the load of information that had been delivered by Natasha. Maria thought about the entire situation, trying to recall the details of the investigation, looking to approach it from a different perspective to possibly offer new ideas on how to move forward. “What if we approached it from the Red Room’s perspective? Who do we know to be alive for sure? Maybe we could find some connection there.” Maria stared down at the documents on the table, waiting for Natasha’s response, but when none came, she turned back around to see her, finding Natasha fast asleep. Maria’s face softened, a small frown of empathy taking over her features as she leaned back against the couch to sit beside Natasha and offer her neck a bit of support while she slept, leaving Maria to ponder the situation.

Maria was still there at your apartment once you returned straight home after school, skipping practice for the day because you didn’t deem it important enough. You found them in the living room, Natasha still fast asleep on the couch, her cheek squished against Maria’s shoulder. You gave her a questioning frown as you dropped your bag onto the floor.

“Everything’s okay”, Maria whispered, offering you a comforting smile. You just stared at them, unsure of what to do. “She’s been working on a case. I think she’s been a bit on overdrive.” You looked down at the papers on the coffee table, then back at Maria, then your mother. It was so strange. All of it. Everything was weird. Your mother was being weird. There she was, asleep on the couch in someone’s arms, someone who wasn’t a member of your family. You didn’t like it if you were being honest. It was weird. Your mother wasn’t like that. She liked to keep her distance.

“Oh, okay. I’ll be in my room.” You didn’t know what else to do, so you just behaved like on a regular weekday and went into your room to do your homework, unsure of how to take everything that had been going on lately.

Maria stayed until the evening, dutifully sitting beside Natasha until she woke up around six in the evening. She blinked her eyes open, her body automatically beginning to stretch itself out to bring relief to her aching joints. She let out a little moan, her half-open eyes spotting Liho on the couch beside her, snuggly fitted into the spot formed between her and Maria. Natasha scratched Liho immediately, cooing softly at the cat that purred at the scratches. Natasha pulled away from Maria the second her conscious mind registered that Maria was functioning as her pillow. Natasha looked a bit sheepish as she sat up properly, giving Maria an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that.” Natasha let out a small, awkward chuckle. She was almost like a completely different person, the jittery, panicked version of her nowhere to be found, replaced by a serene, groggy exterior. Maria gave her a gentle smile, her hand reaching for Natasha’s to give it a small squeeze.

“Eh, what are friends for anyway?” Maria smirked, Natasha rubbing her lips together to hide her smile. “I’m glad I could help.” Natasha looked a bit awkward. She didn’t like help. “You need to start taking care of yourself.” Maria’s tone turned more serious, Natasha’s sleepy eyes meeting her blue ones. “You won’t be able to solve anything running on a few minutes of sleep. I get that you’re worried, I get that you want answers now and not tomorrow, but you’re going to self-sabotage if you’re not patient. You’re going to ruin your relationship with Y/N if you start pulling away from her.” Maria was throwing facts right into Natasha’s face which she didn’t entirely appreciate, but she listened to them anyway. “She’s not just anybody. She is not a colleague you can run away from, she’s not a friend you can cut off…” They looked at each other, holding each other’s gazes rather intently. “She’s not an enemy you can eliminate. She’s your daughter. She needs you.”

“I know, I just… I need to solve this.”

“No. You need to explain it to your daughter. You can’t shove her aside. It won’t protect her, it’ll only hurt her more.” Maria looked stern, the authority in her tone making Natasha defensive, her hand pulling out of Maria’s reach. Natasha had never liked being bossed around. She hated being told that she was doing something wrong, that she didn’t possess the absolute truth and all the right answers. She became defensive when faced with critique, but Maria didn’t let her fight back. “I can help you with the investigation. I can get a team together, offer more resources, but I won’t do a single thing for you unless you take care of your daughter and yourself.” Natasha glared at Maria, looking awfully lot like she was going to protest. Maria raised her brow at Natasha as if challenging her to fight back. “You’re gonna solve it. I know you will. You’ve got the brains for it, but your life doesn’t just go on pause whenever you wish it to.”

“Okay, okay… Fine, I got it.” Natasha was clearly not happy about being lectured, but they both knew it was necessary.

“I’ll come back tomorrow. You better have cleared this all up with Y/N by then.” Maria pointed at the mess that was on the coffee table and the kitchen island. Natasha looked like she wanted to protest, her lips parting as if she was about to say something, but nothing came out. The look on her face turned from defensive to shameful, then to one of defeat.

“I will.”

“That’s a good girl.” The smirk on Maria’s face was playful, coaxing out a bit of humor from Natasha’s serious exterior, bringing an appalled look onto her face.

“Alright, get out of my home.” Despite the words Natasha spoke, Maria could feel the camaraderie behind it, an excited smile finding her face. Maybe Natasha would once more have room for Maria in her life, and the past could finally be fully left behind. Maria got up, encouraged by the rough shove Natasha gave her, the former moving toward the entrance of the apartment.

You could hear their soft chuckles, Maria’s a little more clearly as she walked past your door. You hadn’t heard their conversation, hadn’t even been trying to listen, attempting to drown out the mess that your life was slowly becoming by listening to music in order to distract yourself. You pretended that they weren’t there, focusing on texting Anastasia for help on your chemistry homework as you blasted your favorite musician from your headphones. You could feel the resentment build up within you. You were angry because your apologies weren’t being met the way you had expected them to be. You had expected it to fix everything, you had expected to be loved and cared for despite what you had done, but now there was someone else picking up the pieces after you and she was doing an even better job than you probably ever could have. What angered you even further was that you had never meant for any of it. You hadn’t meant to hurt your mother.

The door to your room opened unexpectedly, your head turning to see who was entering, expecting it to be Maria who was coming to say goodbye, but to your surprise it was Natasha. You felt a surge of annoyance go through you, deciding that you were going to be angry with her because she deserved it. You hadn’t done anything wrong or anything to deserve to be ignored and neglected, and despite understanding that Natasha was in a difficult position in the entire situation, you didn’t have it in you to push aside your own pain.

“Hi, solnishka (sunshine).” Her voice was tentative, gentle, as she approached you, taking a seat on your bed, pulling Tootsie-bear into her arms. She looked at you, observing you as you did your best to ignore her. You felt bad, you felt so unbelievably bad for not giving her your attention, but you pushed through. She deserved to fight for your attention. “I think we should talk.” You let out nothing but a small hum to acknowledge her. “There’s a lot to talk about here.”

“Then talk.” It came out in a bitter grumble, Natasha’s features contorting into a disappointed frown. You were trying so hard to be her. You were trying to give Natasha back her own medicine, trying to replicate a behavioral model that you had witnessed Natasha direct at others who perhaps held less value to her socially. You were recreating the worst parts of her and throwing them right in her face. Natasha felt her emotions flare, triggered by the very same indifference she had shown you.

“Can you look at me when I’m talking to you?” You turned your head to see her, directing an angry glare at her, but what comforted Natasha to no end was the slight waver of your lower lip that exposed the emotions that lay behind what was meant to be an emotionless mask. “I’m sorry.” You simply looked at each other, Natasha’s eyes threatening to well up with tears as she looked at the reflection of herself sitting before her. “I should have taken better care of you. The second I felt myself slip away, I should have made sure that someone was here to look after you.”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that needs help.” Natasha gave you a look for your little comment despite the truth that it carried.

“Drop the attitude, Y/N.” She looked at you with that demanding, firm gaze that always guaranteed that she got her way with you, but to her surprise you gave it back to her, imitating its coldness. She couldn’t pull tricks on you anymore, not when you had learned them all, adapted to them, and learned to use them yourself. All she could do was be honest and hope that you were willing to hear her out. “I think they’re trying to get the Red Room back together.” Her words wiped away your attitude in an instant regardless of whether you wanted it or not. She was letting you in, and it was truly all you could ask for, all you had ever asked for. “I’ve been looking into various different leads that all suggest something far larger than just coincidences. The kidnapping attempts are linked, and your connections to both me and the Red Room are rather obvious. They’ve got something planned. I know it. I might not know what it is exactly, but I know it’s Red Room business.” She looked like she was surer of herself than she had ever been before. She knew that she was right. She eyed you for a long moment, gauging your reaction to the new information. “I can’t let that happen. It can’t happen, not again.” Natasha’s eyes filled with tears as she lost her battle against them, the salty liquid coating her lashes. “The things they did to me, to all the girls… I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. Not a single little girl deserves a fate so cruel.” Her tears escaped. “You included.” She sniffled softly, drying her cheeks, her eyes meeting your softened gaze briefly. “They’re not getting to you. I won’t let anyone get to you. Even if it means that I die trying.”

“Mama-” Natasha smiled suddenly, her gaze fixed on the floor as if in thought, her arms hugging Tootsie.

“I like it when you call me mama. Reminds me of when you were little.” You felt uneasy, you felt like she was signing herself off, warning you of her fate, like there truly was a chance that she might die protecting you. It made you feel nauseous and scared because she had never quite been so serious about death.

“Stop. Don’t say that.” You got off your chair, walking over to her. She made room for you by moving Tootsie aside, pulling you down to sit on her lap, wrapping her arms around you the second she got confirmation of your changed attitude. It felt like a goodbye, something that you absolutely could not have. She hugged you tightly, holding you in her embrace, kissing your shoulder. “You can’t die. Not ever. I don’t care who has to suffer.”

“Y/N…” Natasha wanted to argue that it wasn’t ethical, that it was selfish to only consider one’s own desires, but she felt the same way. She wasn’t proud of it, but she would have built the Red Room back up with her own two hands to ensure your safety if necessary. She would have gone to unspeakable lengths for you.

“Mama-” You burst into tears without a warning, your anxiety surrounding her death triggered back to life that very instance, rushed sobs coming from you with sudden urgency. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t realize it would hurt so much.” You could barely get the words out, longing to apologize once more to her, hoping that it would make it better.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, baby.” She pulled back a bit to see your face in all its teary glory. “I forgive you.” Your heart leapt in your chest, the organ sobbing in relief. “Okay? Listen to me. I forgive you.” It was exactly what you needed to hear. You nodded your head to signal that you understood, tears dripping from your chin for Natasha to wipe off. “It hurts, but I forgive you nonetheless. You’re not the one who hurt me, you simply reminded me of the pain.”

“Promise me… Mommy- mama, you have to promise- promise me.”

“What, baby?” She pulled you closer to kiss the tears off your cheek, squeezing you tightly.

“That you won’t die. You can’t.” You hiccupped loudly, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Nothing is worth it.” You looked at her through your tears. “I don’t care if they put the Red Room back up. I don’t care.” You shook your head in emphasis.

“Shh, alright, malyshka (baby). It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” You weren’t going to accept a vague answer like that, you wanted a promise, a real, binding promise.

“Promise.” Natasha’s eyes searched yours, taken back by your seriousness, by the raw pain that you were trying to bite back. She would promise you anything. She would bring you the moon from the sky. She would sell her soul to the devil for you.

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise.” You offered your hand to her, Natasha's eyes moving to the pinky finger you held up. Her features softened.

“I pinky promise.” She linked her pinky finger with yours, kissing your linked digits. She welcomed you back into a hug, swaying you gently as she closed her eyes, feeling your familiar warmth, smelling your familiar scent. You remained in her arms for a long time, refusing to let go as you thought over everything from the past two months. You knew your mother, you knew that she was a headstrong, determined, risk-taking woman. You knew she wasn’t going to let go of the investigation any time soon. “You’re gonna go after them, aren’t you?” Your fingers got tangled in her hair as you played with her curls, refusing to leave her embrace. She didn’t answer right away, and you knew why; she was afraid of giving you the answer that you didn’t want to hear.

“No, not right now. There’s not enough evidence. I would be going in blind.” You didn’t like the sound of that.

“But you’re going.” You pulled back to look at her in the eyes, receiving confirmation through the small, pleading frown she gave you. “Mama, please don’t.” You had seen what the Red Room could do to her. You wanted her nowhere near it.

“You won’t have to worry about it.” She leaned forward, kissing your cheek. “That’s what mothers are for.” She smiled. “It’s all gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere, not right now. We’ll focus on us. I got a little carried away there for a while, but I’ll do better, okay?” You nodded your head, wiping your tears away with Natasha’s help. “I’m not leaving you, I’m not dying anytime soon.” She cupped your cheek, stroking you gently, feeling her heart produce small bursts of affection with every beat of the organ. “I’m really sorry for neglecting you. I thought I was doing the right thing, that I was protecting you, and I let it consume me.” However, what Natasha failed to admit was that she was struggling to process her own trauma, using the investigation as a way to distract herself from the gut-wrenching agony that her childhood stirred within her. It wasn’t just an accident that her mind slipped on autopilot, she had allowed it to happen, used it as a way to escape, to ignore everything that had demanded her attention.

“Yeah. You were kind of scary.” You huffed out a small laugh, Natasha’s lips turning down in a slight pout.

“I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were gonna go crazy.” You pressed your face into hers, longing to be closer, needing to somehow express the relief and affection you felt, Natasha kissing you all over your face.

“I’m not going crazy”, she mumbled between kisses, squeezing you as tightly as she could. The only reason she wasn’t going crazy was because Maria and a decent amount of sleep had managed to snap her back into reality. If she was being honest, she had been dangerously close to forgetting where her energy and efforts were needed, but she was good at denial, and she was going to keep denying because she couldn’t face the fact that something could affect her so strongly, that something in this world could get to the Natasha Romanoff. She was supposed to be unbeatable, unstoppable. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Good. Cause I only got one mom.”

“Yeah, and I only got one Y/N.” She brushed her fingertip down the slope of your nose, eliciting a small chuckle from you, her lips kissing the tip of your nose.

Chapter 52: Sweet sixteen

Chapter Text

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N”, Natasha sang softly as she entered your bedroom, carrying a stack of pancakes in her hands, six candles flickering on top of the sticky pile, illuminating her face and the softly lit bedroom as she walked to your bedside. You blinked your eyes open, a huge smile overtaking your features before you had even seen a single thing. You rubbed your eye as Natasha set the pancakes onto your nightstand, pulling you right into her arms. “S dnem rozhdeniya, malyshka (happy birthday, baby)”, she whispered softly, squeezing you so tightly it hurt. She rocked you side to side, holding you for a long moment, allowing you a second to fully wake up in her arms. She already smelled like her perfume, her hair styled, makeup done, but she was still in her pajamas. She was warm and familiar, your exhaustion slowly sidelined by the excitement you felt for the day ahead. You were having a party. “Make a wish.” Natasha pulled back, glancing at the plate of pancakes, prompting you to blow out the candles on top. You gave her a small look, leaning toward them enough for your breath to reach the flames. The sharp smell of smoke invaded your nose as the light flickered out from each cake candle, Natasha’s lips finding your temple to kiss.

“How does it feel to be sixteen?” You pulled back to see her face, feeling warmth within you as she cupped your cheeks to admire the adult you were becoming.

“It’s pretty cool”, you admitted, smirking at her. You felt so old and grown, yet still the exact same. She took a long, hard look at your face, her thumbs caressing your cheeks. “What?”

“I’m just making sure my little baby is still somewhere there under all that maturity you’ve acquired from somewhere.” Her tone was teasing, her lips kissing your forehead again.

“She’s still there.” You chuckled, allowing her to pull you into another hug, her repeated kisses wetting your cheek.

“Good. I’ve got a gift for you in the kitchen. Get ready for school. I’ll drive you.” She ruffled your hair a bit, admiring the mess before kissing your forehead again.

“Got it.” You reveled in the attention she gave you, your smile only widening when she brushed her finger down the slope of your nose before pressing the tip of it like a button. Her affection was gladly welcomed after you had learned what it was like to live without it. She left your room after opening your curtains, her gaze lingering on you like she couldn’t tear her eyes off you, her face shining with admiration and pride. You grabbed a plump strawberry off the plate on your nightstand, taking a bite of the syrupy fruit, your eyes wandering to the skyline on their own. You found yourself the outfit you had picked out the day before, got dressed, did your hair, washed your face and did your makeup. Upon entering the kitchen, you walked in on Liho begging for food, its loud meows bringing a happy, little grin on Natasha’s face as she emptied a bag of cat food into Liho’s bowl. The sight made you smile. Funny how things could change, the mutual resentment gone from both parties, Liho doing its very best to rub Natasha’s calf with its snout as affectionately as possible. Your attention moved to the gift that sat on the table, your smile only growing wider as you approached it. You had no idea what was inside the medium-sized box, your hands setting down your empty plate before reaching for the bow on top. You discovered an envelope beneath it, carefully prying open the sealed flap to see what was inside. You found a card with a pretty picture of the Eiffel Tower, Natasha’s beautiful cursive writing delivering the news on the flip side of the card. You admired the picture for a moment before focusing on reading the back of it. Your eyes widened in shock, turning to Natasha for confirmation. She nodded her head enthusiastically.

“Yes, baby, I’m taking you to Paris.”

“Really?” You practically leapt into Natasha’s embrace, squealing from excitement at the mention of a trip abroad, and not just with anybody, but her.

“Yes, kroshka (little one). We need a little more positivity after everything that’s been going on”, she chuckled, her hand cupping the back of your head to pull you closer. You had never gone to Europe before. You had been to Canada, Mexico, and Cuba, as well as a bunch of other states in the US. You had traveled relatively much courtesy of the access you and your family had to arial transportation. You had gone to various places during summer vacations and holiday breaks, but you had never been to Europe, not a single country on the continent.

“When?” You pulled back to see her, your eyes slightly glossy from the overwhelming joy you experienced.

“In August.” You squealed again. You couldn’t help it, falling back into her embrace to share the explosion of emotion that went through you.

“What’s in the box then?”

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” She let go of you to allow you to see what the flat box contained. You pulled the lid off, your eyes landing on a pair of wireless headphones. They were in your favorite color, the shade immediately bringing a smile to your face.

“They can be wired or wireless, whichever you prefer. Also, very useful for flights, so you won’t have to listen to me yap all the time.” You gave her a chastising look as you pulled the headphones out of the box, admiring their sleek, and light build that would surely be comfortable to wear.

“You don’t yap.”

“I do sometimes.”

“Maybe sometimes.” You chuckled, fitting the headphones over your ears. “I love them.” You leaned into Natasha, kissing her cheek. “Spasibo, mama (thank you, mom).”

“Konechno, dorogaya (of course, darling). You got everything you need?” She moved away from you to grab the car keys from the kitchen island. You nodded your head, eyeing her for a moment as she got to the front door, pulling on a stylish coat. She looked abnormally good for a rather average day, your suspicions growing. You gave her a small frown.

“Are you going somewhere today?” You came to her side after getting your school bag, placing the new headphones around your neck.

“Well, I’m going shopping for your party.”

“And then?” You raised a brow at her, your expression almost uncanny to Natasha’s signature frown.

“What do you mean ‘then’?” She opened the door for you, watching you shove your feet rather violently into your sneakers.

“You’re dressed all nice. Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive for a grocery run?” Natasha gave you a look.

“It’s a day for celebration”, she huffed, nudging you out the door, the roughness of the gesture bringing a smile to your face. It was kind of fun to get on her nerves whenever she tried to be secretive.

“Are you meeting someone?”

“Dostochno (enough). I don’t have time for that.”

“Why not? Maybe I could use a dad.” You followed her to the elevator.

“Yeah, no.” Natasha rolled her eyes in amusem*nt, shaking her head. You were silly sometimes.

You made it to school on time despite the mild traffic, your friends welcoming you in the hallway with embarrassingly loud singing and cheering that made you almost want to hide away to avoid attracting so much attention, but if you were being honest you forgot to care when Anastasia pulled you into her vanilla-scented embrace that was strong enough to make you dizzy, the rest of your small friend group joining her to show you more love. They were all coming over after school to your sweet sixteen party that was to be held at your apartment. Jesse got you some balloons, Tina placing a plastic crown on your head, Valéria handing you a card she had made, and Julia giving you a cupcake in a box. You felt your cheeks heat from all the attention you were getting, your heart falling out of its usual rhythm as you did your best to try to process the joy you felt for having found genuine people to surround yourself with.

“Get to class girls!” It was one of your least favorite teachers, but even she couldn’t ruin your fun, a peal of laughter falling from your lips when Julia brushed some pink frosting onto your nose to tease you as you started moving toward the open classroom door. Before you could get moving though, you felt something wet on your nose, a waft of fruity vanilla coming over you when Anastasia kissed the frosting off your nose. Your heart dropped all the way through your stomach and belly, falling out of your ass and onto the hallway tiles. Your world stilled, but no one seemed to notice, a small chuckle sounding from you as you forced yourself to carry on. What a strange reaction to something so simple. You were affectionate with all your friends. You had never had issues with physical affection. You loved hugs and kisses all the same, but something about that was different. You grabbed Anastasia’s arm, allowing her to pull you into the classroom where you would sit next to each other for the next forty minutes while you tried to make sense of the electricity that tickled your belly every time your gaze caught hers. You must have been so excited for the rest of the day that you were getting anxious butterflies. The school day was significantly less boring and went by surprisingly quickly when you had so much to look forward to. Not even chemistry was enough to dim your joy when you and Jesse spent the entire time giggling in the back row about everything that was not supposed to be even remotely funny. You kept drawing silly sketches into her notebook instead of going anywhere near a periodic table. Jesse was a really good artist, her ability to draw silly faces and funny characters only adding to your fun.

Finally, by the end of the school day, Natasha came to pick you and your friends up from the entrance of the school in a black limo stolen from the Avengers tower garage. You saw the way some of the kids gawked at your small group as you got inside, a whistle or a two sounding from some of the boys who were rather curious about the shiny vehicle. You felt your body flush from nerves, but thankfully it didn’t last long because the tinted windows of the limousine covered you and your friends up. You connected your phone to the car Bluetooth and let everyone put on the type of music they wanted to listen to on the ride home. Also, just to make everything unnecessarily fancy, Natasha had put out some snacks for you to hold you off until you would be offered a proper catering. You looked at all your friends, unable to quite believe that you had managed to find so many people. There had been even more of your classmates who would have wanted to come, but you had decided on a smaller scale party despite Natasha’s offer to rent out someplace nice for the celebration. You didn’t want to invite anyone you didn’t actually know; only your closest friends and a few acquaintances who you might have spent time with in class or during lunch. All in all, in addition to Anastasia, Julia, Valéria, Jesse, and Tina, you had invited Salma from art, Lydia and Winnie from history, and Sono from PE. They all knew each other one way or another which made bonding significantly easier within the group. In your opinion, you were off to a good start. You got situated in the living room where you had easy access to all the delicious food Natasha had bought and made for you while you simply hung out with your friends, talking, singing, listening to music, and gossiping. It was exactly what you had hoped for your sweet sixteen.

“Is your mom still here?” Valéria asked almost secretively after you had opened all your gifts and you were all stuffing your faces with cake, the music playing a bit quieter in the background.

“No, she went to work.” You gave her a frown. “Why?”

“Look what I got.” You watched in growing curiosity as Valéria reached for her bag and dug out a medium-sized bottle that very clearly contained alcohol. Your eyes widened, your shocked chuckle gaining others’ attention as well.

“Where did you get that?” Your eyes were wide as dinner plates.

“Home.” She smirked brightly; those dark eyes filled with mirth. “What do you say, birthday girl? Let’s get this party started.” You didn’t quite know how to react while everyone simply cheered. You had had tiny sips of your mother’s alcoholic beverages simply because you had had a bad habit of whining until Natasha eventually gave in, but you had never had a proper amount of anything, and you couldn’t truly deny the curiosity that bubbled within you. Your lips tugged up into a smile as you grabbed the bottle.

“What is it?” You stared at the glass bottle, reading what it said.

“Vodka. Russian, obviously.” You couldn’t help but to laugh, Valéria nudging you gently. You twisted the cap open, glancing at the guests with a shy smirk on your face. You knew Sono and Winnie were rather experienced when it came to partying and drinking, which naturally meant that you didn’t want to seem like a wuss.

“Should I just take a shot or mix it?” You weren’t really sure how all of it was supposed to work, but you were eager to find out.

“Do it the Russian way”, Anastasia snickered. “Straight from the bottle.” You rolled your eyes, taking a small whiff of the liquid inside, not exactly enticed by the smell of alcohol, but the thrill for what you were about to do pushed aside the apprehension you felt. You brought the glass rim to your lips, taking a careful sip of the burning liquid that was strong enough to numb your taste buds. You cringed, hard.

“Come on, take a proper sip. You only turn sixteen once in your life”, Salma moaned, all of the girls following intensely how your experimenting was going. Salma gave you a bright, encouraging smile, her perfectly lined, red lips stretching into a wide grin. She was a beautiful girl, the kind that reminded you of a French countryside, of idyllic grape farms, energizing sunlight, and deep, dark wine. She was an interesting combination of light and dark, radiance and gloom. You almost wished you had a closer relationship to her for how magnetic her energy felt. Without thinking about it much further you took a proper gulp of the alcohol, forcibly swallowing down the sharp ache that it brought with it, your nose, your entire face feeling numb from the burn. You let out a small whine, handing the bottle back to Valéria who took a long sip, passing the vodka down to Lydia, who then passed it on to Sono.

“Oh, that’s vile.” You wiped your mouth onto the back of your hand, spooning cake into your mouth to rid yourself of the awful taste it had left behind as well as soothe your poor tongue.

“It’s much better if you mix it”, Tina pointed out, wincing heavily as she allowed Jesse to take the bottle.

“What should we mix it with?” You felt a bit clueless, but everyone was clueless anyway, so it didn’t matter. You were all friends.

“Soda takes away the taste pretty effectively”, Winnie commented, her green eyes finding yours. Winnie was a mysterious girl. You didn’t know much about her, but on the surface, she was really nice and friendly. You got along well, but those green eyes never gave a thing away from how she was truly feeling.

“I like fruity soda the best. You can’t even taste it. I’ll make a drink for you”, Sono offered in excitement, getting up from her spot on the floor to go fetch you a glass and some soda. Sono you had met on the soccer fields after getting hit in your face by the soccer ball your first month of freshman year. Sono had apologized to you profusely, the events leading to multiple apologies throughout the school year. You didn’t see her too often and you had forgiven her ages ago, but the girl’s impressively persistent guilt kept bringing you two together enough times for you to befriend each other. Sono was outgoing and a busy bee that spent most her time on the soccer field or in the presence of her teammates which left you little time to bond much further, but she was enough as a casual companion.

“Don’t make it too strong.” You watched her whip up a concoction of some sorts with two different sodas and some of the vodka, handing the drink to you with a proud, little smile. You accepted the glass from her, taking a sip of the co*cktail. It was significantly better compared to straight liquor, your face forming an impressed look.

“Not too shabby. This kind of slaps.” You took another sip of your drink, nearly inhaling it when you saw your mother walk into the kitchen, her amused eyes landing on the tight circle formed around the coffee table and the star of the show that the vodka bottle had somehow become.

“Oh, what are we having?” Natasha walked closer to you all, the tone of her voice nowhere near what you would have expected. She didn’t seem mad. “Can I have a sip?” She had a slight smile on her face as she gestured for Julia, who was closest to the alcohol, to hand her the bottle. Julia knew better than to defy your mother, handing the bottle to her without further ado. The atmosphere in the living room did a complete one-eighty at Natasha’s arrival and at being caught, yet nothing drastic seemed to happen as a consequence. “Mm, it’s got a bit of a kick, not too bad though.” You looked at Natasha with your jaw hanging, almost as if waiting for her to chastise you for submitting to peer pressure, or even worse, chastise your friends for being a bad influence. “Who brought it?” She eyed you all carefully, but nobody wanted to fess up, all of you looking at each other rather carefully as if trying to communicate what you were going to do next. “Rat her out.” Natasha’s voice was jovial, like the situation was nothing but a silly, little guessing game for her, her eyes landing on Valéria despite not getting a peep out of any of you. Natasha smirked, clearly entertained. “I’ve got my eye on you, missy. Where did you get it?”

“My parent’s cupboard.” Valéria sounded meek despite the confidence she usually displayed.

“Was it unopened?” Valeria nodded. “Do that one more time and I’ll let your parents know.” Valeria nodded hastily, the message clearly going through to her as Natasha handed the bottle back to Julia who looked all the more confused.

“Don’t get too drunk.” Natasha knew there was nowhere near enough alcohol to get ten girls drunk, let alone even tipsy.

“Mom!” You were shocked to say the least, completely and utterly not having expected her to take it so well. She seemed to be in an excellent mood.

“What? I’d rather have you get drunk here where I can see you instead of having you passed out in Central Park.” She gave you a look, her smirk lingering on her face as she moved to the cake and got herself a thick slice of it. She licked some frosting off her finger as she left the living room to go continue her work on the investigation. “Have fun!” You looked at your friends with your drink in your hand, feeling almost awkward for not knowing how to react.

“Your mom’s so cool.” Lydia, who you had met in history class the previous winter, commented, a sh*t-eating grin on her face, her heavy Boston accent never failing to make you smile. You were pretty sure she was gay. “She’s kinda hot.” Yeah, she was gay. You nearly choked on your drink for the second time that afternoon.

“Lydia!” You threw a pillow at her, Lydia laughing in the bold, loud way that was rather typical to her. It matched perfectly with her unrestricted way of existing. She didn’t think much before speaking and always said what was on her mind. She was straightforward and honest, usually more willing to express what everyone else was thinking. You always knew what was going on with Lydia because she never gave you the chance to remain in oblivion.

“What? I’m just sayin’.” She shrugged her shoulders, snickering quietly, clearly exaggerating her infatuation toward your mother to tease you a bit further by theatrically acting smitten.

“Don’t be weird. She’s not hot, she’s my mom.”

“Well…” You stared at the little shrug that Anastasia did, looking at her in disbelief, the other girls giggling quietly.

“Alright, enough about my mom.” You rolled your eyes in good nature, shaking your head in disbelief as you grabbed your co*cktail. It all felt so absurd. She hadn’t taken the alcohol away. You almost didn’t want to finish your co*cktail, feeling like it was a test of some sorts, maybe a trap that you would end up in later that night, yet you took another sip of the fruity drink, getting more accustomed to the taste, deeming that it went quite well with your birthday cake. Although nothing could beat the buttery delicacy that Natasha had picked up from a bakery that morning.

You eventually managed to brush aside Natasha’s accepting attitude and focus back on your celebration, your attention stolen away by the girls who were piling up songs into the queue you had going on, the speakers suddenly blasting rather vulgar rap. It made you forget all about the alcohol because it looked like you had a dance party coming your way. You got up from the floor and dimmed the lights a bit, allowing yourself to fall back into the moment, keen on having fun with the girls. The night was filled with gossip and laughter all the way to the sunset that you all admired in excitement from your balcony because none of you could deny the amazing views that the tower provided you. Somehow the party moved to the balcony, your bowl of chips getting passed around as you all stared at the skyline, Tina’s vape making the air around you smell like strawberry bubblegum. There was something about spending time in such a casual manner that got to you. Everyone was getting along, and not only that, but everyone was having fun. You listened to the loud, girly laughter that echoed around you, the moment prompting you to lean back against the glass of the balcony where Anastasia was sitting. Your shoulder brushed against hers, warmth blooming over your cheeks, which you blamed on the rays of sunlight that only barely peeked over the horizon. You experienced a surge of gratitude, the rough spring that was coming to an end there to remind you how much you had to be thankful for. You were safe, you were loved, you were home, and it had come all too close to you potentially losing the happiness you had found in New York. You decided to savor every last second of watching the setting sun, reminding yourself not to take those small moments for granted because they could be ripped away from you in a heartbeat.

The final act of the night was ordering dinner before watching the scariest horror movie you could find. After the first movie came to an end, those who could not spend the night for one reason or another started to gather their things. You had expected your closer friends to stay over with the exception of Anastasia whose mother hadn’t allowed her to stay at a party no matter how much you and Anastasia had tried to explain to her that it was a regular sleepover. But what you hadn’t expected was for Salma to show any interest in staying.

“Get home safely, okay?” You squeezed Anastasia tightly as her, Sono, Winnie, and Lydia were getting ready to say goodbyes, all of you gathered at the front door. “Thanks for the perfume again. I’ve been drooling after it for ages.” You chuckled softly, pulling back to see her face, receiving a wide, knowing grin.

“No problem. I’m glad you like it.” Anastasia stepped back to give you more room to hug the other girls as well before the door was opened and they all filed out into the hallway.

“Would you mind if I stayed the night?” You turned back to look at Salma after tugging the front door shut, your brows rising in mild surprise.

“No, not at all. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

"Thanks.” She gave you a small, happy smile before you headed back into the living room to continue your movie night, picking a second movie for you to watch as you nibbled on whatever was left of your pizza orders. You were almost impressed by how long you had managed to remain entertained by each other. It was rather thrilling to notice that the fun didn’t seem to have an end with your girls. There was always a new joke to be made, a new piece of gossip to be spread, a new theory to be discussed, a new debate to be had. There was always something, which was exactly why the night dragged on well past midnight. You watched three movies in total, your head feeling thick from all the plot lines and characters, your energy levels finally crashing around three in the morning.

“That was so dumb. I can’t believe we finished it”, Jesse groaned from somewhere among the cushions where she was lying, buried under a blanket, half-asleep.

“Dumb but so entertaining”, Valéria chuckled, clambering up into a sitting position as the end credits rolled onto the screen.

“It had so much potential, but they f*cked it up with the aliens and sh*t”, Tina weighed in, rubbing her eye, yanking on Jesse’s blanket to hog some of it back to herself.

“I think they could have used something else to explain everything. This just felt like such lazy writing. I need more answers. This is kinda like those endings- Do you know when the movie or book just kinda goes like: Oh, it’s just a dream? I hate them because how are you gonna create all these cool characters and the most interesting plot ever and then ruin it all by bringing in an alien invasion.” You were all nodding along to Julia’s monologue, already accustomed to her strong and intricate opinions that flowed out of her with such ease. She never had trouble blabbering her mouth off. It came in handy especially with essays.

“No”, Valéria suddenly moaned, whining in pure exhaustion. “We have to make the beds.” You chuckled at the despair in her tone, sitting up yourself, brushing off some popcorn from your lap.

“Where are we gonna sleep?” Salma asked in sudden curiosity, looking around the living room as if searching for a spot to sleep in.

“Uh, Jess and Tina can take the guest room. The bed is already made-”

“Oh, you an angel!” Jesse groaned, standing up. “Thank you, babe.” She cupped your cheeks and planted a wet kiss on your forehead. It made you chuckle in amusem*nt. Tina followed in Jesse’s footsteps, both of them heading toward the guest room.

“I came prepared”, you shrugged. It was more than reasonable in your opinion since you had organized a slumber party. “Val and Jules can take my bed.” You looked at Salma, not sure where to put her. Normally if all your girls were staying over, you would just all squeeze into the two beds in whatever way possible, but you didn’t want to do that to Salma who was only getting to know you all. “We can sleep here, if that’s okay with you.” Salma nodded immediately. “Okay, good. I’ll go get the sheets.” You both cleaned up the living room, helping each other create a makeshift bed for the two of you. Once the bed was done, Salma pulled off her long sleeve shirt, your eyes moving immediately to the floor to avoid catching even a glimpse of her pretty bra. You felt a bit flustered but brushed it off; you were both girls after all.

“Actually, would you happen to have a shirt for me? I don’t wanna sleep in my bra.” Salma had a sheepish smile on her face, but she didn’t bother to cover herself up.

“Yeah, of course.” You hurried out of the living room, finding a pajama set to lend to Salma, saying good night to your friends before returning into the living room. “Are these okay?” You showed the cute, white cotton set to Salma whose lips stretched into a smile. Her hands found the back of her bra, unhooking the clasp before she received the clothes from you. “Um, I can go if you wanna change in peace.”

“Don’t bother, I’m not afraid to show some skin”, she hummed with a playful smile, sliding her bra off to reveal more of her olive complexion.

“Okay. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” You gave her a small smile, very consciously keeping your eyes on her face for the short moment you looked at her before starting to settle down on the couch. You heard some laughter from your room, happy, little screeches that were followed by shushing and muffled chuckles.

“You could never.” You heard her take off her pants and pull on the shorts you had given her, your eyes remaining on the ceiling that was dimly lit by the TV screen that remained as your only light source. “Where’s the remote?” You handed it to Salma automatically, allowing her to turn off the light for the night. She got under the covers on the couch, lying down diametrically to you, her head right above yours so neither would have to sleep with the other’s feet in their face. You could feel some of her thick curls touch your hair as she adjusted her head on her pillow, the silence of the living room weighing down on you. You didn’t know how to sit in silence, curiosity taking over you.

“Can I ask you something?” Your question came in a whisper, hanging in the darkness for a moment.

“Sure.”

“Why did you stay?” You hoped that it didn’t sound rude, that you weren’t making her feel unwelcome. You simply hadn’t expected her to even want to stay somewhere she had never been before.

“Um…” She didn’t have to say a single word for you to notice that she sounded hesitant. You could hear her move, her hands coming into your view, although all you saw was a dark shadow. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” You felt a bit apprehensive, unsure of what was being thrown your way.

“Okay.”

“Give me your hand.” As told, you lifted your hand up, reaching gently for the arm that was a few inches away from your face, your fingertips touching in the dark. She guided your hand to her wrist, her warm skin smooth and soft beneath your fingertips. She trailed your fingertips higher, your touch finding gentle bumps, lines. “I’m five months clean. I don’t wanna f*ck it up.” You couldn’t understand why on earth she was telling you, why she was entrusting you with something so vulnerable when all you really were to each other was classmates.

“I’m really glad you stayed.” You imagined Salma smiling, her small huff indicative of a positive reaction.

“I get lonely sometimes.” You allowed her to explain herself, giving her the room to open up as your fingers caressed over the scars. You had never noticed them, not that you had ever even looked for anything of the sort. “I really liked your party… the people, you, your mom. It’s nice.” Your fingers trailed back down to her wrist, finding her hand, giving it a squeeze, but you didn’t let go, holding onto her in the hopes of comforting her.

“I’m happy I could give you that and that I could make you feel better, even if it was just a little bit.” You heard her nod, the sheets rustling slightly.

“It wasn’t just a little bit. It was a lot, actually.” Salma chuckled softly, perhaps feeling a bit embarrassed by her revelation, but you couldn’t tell for sure. However, what you could tell was that you felt honored by her willingness to trust you. The intimacy that had suddenly developed between you was unexpected but nonetheless welcomed.

“We should hang out more often.” Your words were followed by silence. You imagined Salma smiling up at the ceiling, hoping that you had assumed her reaction correctly. She didn’t pull her hand away, still holding yours just the same.

“I’d like that.” She sounded sad, maybe even bittersweet. “I’m always alone at home. I just knew that I wouldn’t be able to take it after all the fun.”

“I know the feeling.” You remained quiet for a moment, contemplating your words. “I have a lot of anxiety at times… and sometimes having fun is just a reminder that it won’t last forever.” You heard Salma hum in agreement. “Remember the kidnapping attempt a few months ago?” Your question was rather pointless because you knew that everybody at school remembered it because the incident had increased camera surveillance and overall security around school mostly courtesy of Natasha who had demanded it. You heard Salma hum her answer. “That was me.” There was a loaded silence that followed. It was only fair of you to share an equivalent amount of pain with her.

“That must’ve been really scary.” Salma sounded like she was lost for words, and you had expected nothing more. It would have been a shocking revelation to anyone.

“It did a number on my anxiety.” You chuckled bitterly, trying to alleviate the seriousness of your statement.

“Do you know who it was?”

“No.” Salma gave your hand a sorrowful squeeze to signal her support, much like the one you had given her.

“I don’t like being alone. It makes me feel unsafe.” You continued to explain your emotions, feeling comforted by the fact that maybe there was someone out there who related to you, even if the circ*mstances were rather unfortunate.

“Me too.” You felt Salma’s hand move, her thumb stroking the side of your hand. It was nice, really nice, her touch tickling your skin. Neither of you spoke again, the silence between you starting to stretch. You heard Salma yawn softly, your body immediately mirroring her with a yawn of your own. Your eyes stung with the need to sleep, so you gave in to the desire to close them, waiting for her to speak once more, but she didn’t. It seemed as though you had come to a mutual understanding regarding the subject, the mellow silence and comforting atmosphere guiding you both to sleep, your hands remaining linked on top of your pillows.

You woke up to Natasha moving around the kitchen, your eyes blinking rapidly to get accustomed to the sliver of sunlight that billowed through a crack in the curtains. Salma was still fast asleep, your sandpaper dry throat demanding water immediately. You got up from the couch, heading into the kitchen where you were met with Natasha’s messy head of hair, tired eyes and yawning mouth.

“Good morning, party girl. You ready for round two?” She covered her mouth to hide another yawn, her eyes watering from the intensity of it. You chuckled quietly, filling a tall glass with water.

“Morning. You look like you had a party of your own.” You eyed her tired demeanor in amusem*nt. “Even I’m not looking that rough.”

“Ouch.” She scrunched her nose, feigning her offense. “You girls sure know how to giggle.”

“Sorry.” You winced. You had a feeling that Jesse and Tina hadn’t been as quiet as you and Salma had, never mind Valéria and Julia.

“It’s alright. I’m glad you had fun.” She brushed her hand down your bare arm, pairing the gesture with a soft smile. “I thought I’d start making breakfast.”

“I can do it. You can go back to bed, it’s only…” You looked at the time on the oven clock, pinching your lips shut. It was past noon. “I’ll help you.” Natasha chuckled at your small frown, switching on the coffee maker as you started to pull out everything you would need for a classic American breakfast. You had a second party planned for the weekend, one meant for your family. You had given Tony full creative freedom with the party from invites to catering, thrilled to finally have your very own Stark-style party. To say that you were excited, was an understatement of the year. You couldn’t wait for the evening. You made a batch of pancake batter, leaving the less complex task of frying eggs and bacon to Natasha who could peacefully rub sleep from her eyes and sip on her coffee while she watched the food cook on the stove.

“How’s the investigation going?” You were hoping to figure her out a bit more. Maybe find an explanation for her exhaustion because she rarely looked so worn down by a night of poor sleep.

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it”, she hummed, brushing her hand down your back as you walked past her to grab milk from the fridge.

“Mama”, you whined softly, turning around to give her a look. “I wanna know when you’re gonna go get yourself killed.” You said it jokingly, Natasha chuckling at your whiny tone, but a part of you felt agitated. You weren’t asking about it for the hell of it, you wanted to prepare yourself. Natasha could see the conflict on your face, her hand reaching for you to tug you closer.

“Don’t worry about it. Not today.” She kissed your temple, her other hand moving the bacon around a bit to make sure it didn’t burn.

“Okay.” You leaned further into her embrace, staring down at the pan. “That’s turkey, right?” Jesse and Tina didn’t eat pork.

“Yes, of course, malyshka (baby).” Her hand brushed over your hair. “Just take it day at a time. There’s no use in worrying about the future, honey.” You continued to stare at the bacon, feeling the reel of anxiety inside you, ready to unravel at any moment. You felt her kiss your head, her fingers sinking into your hair to scratch your scalp for comfort. “You’ve got another fun day ahead of you. Focus on that. Enjoy the fun. Celebrate it.” You leaned fully into her embrace, feeling her arms encase you tightly, receiving a firm squeeze. “Allow yourself to celebrate yourself.” She kissed you repeatedly over the side of your head before letting go of you. She looked at you for a long moment, carefully eyeing your features.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so beautiful, such a gorgeous girl.” Your cheeks warmed as you smile softly. “You deserve the world.” You huffed quietly as if in defiance, but Natasha simply tutted you, not allowing you any room to resist her. “Give yourself today. You’ve got every other day to worry about me and my investigation, but today is not the day.”

“Okay.” Her fingers caressed your cheeks and jaw. You nodded your head, smiling softly, your attention shifting to the couches where Salma was rolling around, clambering up from the cushions. You grinned at her groggy face that she turned toward the kitchen where your quiet conversation was coming from. Natasha let go of you, going back to cooking as you headed into the living room.

“Morning.” You shot Salma a small smile, your gaze failing to ignore her messy head of hair that gave her a rather endearing appearance. She was cute. She smiled back at you, her cheeks dusting a gentle pink before she hid her face into her hands to rub off the remaining sleep from her eyes.

“Morning. What time is it?” She tried to comb her fingers through her loose curls, but it didn’t do much to her unruly hair.

“Twelve-thirty-ish.” You noticed the small frown of surprise that crossed her face before she started to get up, heading for the bathroom, running into Liho on the way.

Soon the entire apartment was up, all of you girls gathered at the dining table with your brunch menu á la Natasha who was watching you from the side, scrolling away on a tablet, snacking on a crispy piece of bacon. She looked like she was about to leave but couldn’t quite find the patience to pull away from her tablet. You did your very best to convince yourself that she was just reading the news instead of being elbows deep in that cursed investigation of hers that was slowly starting to consume more and more of your brain capacity. You focused your attention back on breakfast and the laughter of your friends, reminded of Natasha’s advice for the day. You should focus on the fun, even if her absentminded demeanor made it harder for you. Thankfully, as your friends slowly left one by one and the day turned into afternoon, Natasha seemed to have ditched whatever was on her mind, clearly taking her own advice and focusing fully on you and the celebration for the night. You and Natasha got ready together which you found incredibly endearing because you could tell that Natasha wanted to be a part of the process, offering to do your hair and makeup. It was so incredibly sweet of her, and you could have never turned down an offer of that kind. You got properly dolled up for the party, pulling on a slightly more mature dress that you had begged for when you had gone shopping the week before. It wasn’t anything scandalous by any means, but it certainly wasn’t the pink tutu dress Natasha had suggested. It was in your favorite color, and it had a bit of cleavage and a bit more shaping around the waist, but in your opinion, it was still very classy and appropriate.

You arrived at the party that was in full motion around six in the evening. The penthouse was packed with people you didn’t even know, but you guessed them to be there for the atmosphere rather than for proper socializing. There were bright and colorful lights, shiny decorations and music blasting from everywhere. You were welcomed by Tony who offered you a tall glass of kids’ champagne, Natasha receiving an alcoholic version. Your family was gathered in the middle, waiting for your arrival. Natasha had to steal your champagne glass away from you to avoid splashing the drink everywhere from all the hugs you received.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” You were stolen away by Clint, and then Steve, and then Wanda. “Happy birthday, sweet pea.” You received gifts and hugs one after another, your cheeks wet from the kisses you got. “You’re practically an adult. What the hell happened to my little girl?” You chuckled at the theatrical pondering, your heart swelling in your chest from the love that you were engulfed by. “Look at you, all dressed up. You look gorgeous!” Wanda scanned your body up and down, admiring your dress with enthusiasm, asking you to twirl around for her, Morgan expressing her admiration through gasps laden with emotion. “Happy birthday!” Even Wanda’s thirty-month-old twins were there to celebrate you, handing you a large paper bag decorated with bows. You almost couldn’t believe it. Pepper handed you an ominously large designer paper bag, your eyes peeking inside immediately, eager to know what it could possibly contain, but before you could you were whisked away to the bar where there were all kinds of fun co*cktails, snacks and treats available to you and your guests. The fun and excitement were almost overwhelming.

You had underestimated how hard it was to be the center of attention. You barely got a moment to yourself before someone was asking you how it felt to be sixteen. If you were being honest, you didn’t quite know. You felt the same, but maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you were missing something. Maybe you should have felt something more or perhaps something less. You couldn’t quite tell if you were feeling anything at all as the night stretched on. You had spent all your energy on going from one person to another, chatting with them for a moment before moving on to someone else. You had visited the snack table one time too many, your tummy stuffed with appetizers, cupcakes and cookies. On top of that you had had enough kids’ champagne to make you feel like your insides were drowning in it. As much fun as you had been having that night, you desperately needed rest. Your eyes searched the penthouse for your mother, your gaze landing on her beautiful dress and neatly styled curls as she spoke with Maria near the bar. Natasha had a glass in her hand, the champagne inside sloshing around a bit as she moved her hands, using them to explain whatever she was talking about with Maria. The latter had a pensive look on her face, her usual low bun pulled down to let her hair breathe, the brown locks framing her face rather beautifully. You looked at them from across the penthouse, noting things about their dynamic. They seemed like they were enjoying themselves, the conversation flowing smoothly between them. You tried to recall anything you might have known about Maria, tried to piece your mother’s past together, but you failed to come into any cohesive conclusions. Maria had seemingly just popped back into Natasha’s life out of nowhere.

Natasha’s gaze met yours, a hand brushing over your bicep as someone behind you moved you politely out of their way. You flinched, suddenly feeling so desolate in your confusing emotional state that the world around you blurred. You needed to hide. You needed to get away from all the people and find a place where you could be alone for a moment, where you could breathe properly without anyone so much as looking your way. You needed privacy, safety. You needed a chance to sort out what you were feeling in order to figure out why you felt such sudden agitation after the amazing day you had had. Your eyes started to itch with tears, breathing feeling ragged and all too laborious for it to be normal which drew more attention to the discomfort you felt. You tried to take a deep breath in to calm yourself down, but you couldn’t control the pace, gasping for air like you were about to drown. You couldn’t let anyone see you like that. It was too much for you to handle. All of it. Your life had become too much for you to bear. You turned around on your heels, locating the bathrooms with ease, your aching feet that were squished into heels carrying you away from everyone, everyone except your mother who recognized each and every sign of distress your face could have displayed. You heard her footsteps behind you, her heels clicking steadily a short distance away from you, but you couldn’t stop to wait for her. You needed to get away from everything.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Natasha sounded concerned, her hands catching the bathroom door that nearly flew in her face from how forcibly you had ripped it open. She followed you inside the single bathroom, watching in apprehension as you stilled in the middle of the room, covering your face with your hands. Natasha shut the door gently, approaching you slowly. “Dorogaya (darling).”

“I can’t take it”, you sobbed louder than you had intended. “I don’t wanna grow up.” You felt Natasha’s hand on your upper back as she slowly turned you around to face her.

“That makes two of us.” She chuckled softly, pulling you closer to her body.

“I’m not ready.” Natasha brought you into her embrace, guiding your face into the crook of her neck as her arms wrapped around your middle.

“You’re only sixteen, baby. You’ve still got so much time.”

“I’m scared.” It was all coming out at the worst timing possible, but what could you do, your emotions had a mind of their own. “I-I don’t wanna have to deal with- with adult stuff.” You huffed heavily, trying to let go of the stress you were under. “It’s too much.” And it really was. You felt too responsible for Natasha and her decisions, you felt responsible for yourself, for Liho, for holding your family together. You felt burdened by adulthood and all the dangers and decisions it carried. The themes that had been slightly too present in your life recently were getting to you. Never before had you had to think about sex and sexual abuse, human trafficking, or your mother’s mental health and safety. You felt a newfound sense of agency in your own life. You held power, yet seemingly not enough of it, leaving you to feel helpless and pathetic.

“I know, honey. There’s been a lot going on lately.” Her tone was low and soothing, just like it always was, her hand petting your styled hair in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m not ready- I’m- I’m not.”

“No one’s asking you to be. You’re still a child, Y/N. Even as a teenager, no one is expecting you to be able to handle more than what you’re capable of handling.” Her hands rubbed your back and bare arms as you shivered from stress. “Remember a few years back when you were stressing about not growing up fast enough?” You nodded your head, a watery chuckle falling from your lips. You already knew where she was going with it. The irony didn’t go past you. “You’re growing up at your own pace. If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready. Period.” You adjusted your arms around her waist, giving her a squeeze. “You’ve got too much on your plate right now, and that’s my fault. No one can blame you for feeling overwhelmed.” You nodded your head against her shoulder. “The world is a scary place. I want you to focus on your childhood while you still can. Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about the investigation, or my past. All of that is out of your control. I want you to focus on your friends, on school, on what you want to do in Paris or over the summer. Don’t spend all your energy on worrying, dushenka (sweetheart). You’ll have plenty of time for that in the future.” She said the last sentence jokingly, but you both knew it was true.

“Yeah, I’ll try”, you whimpered.

“Do you want me to book you a second appointment for next week?” Her fingers sank into your hair to scratch over your scalp. You didn’t answer. You weren’t sure what you wanted or if any of it would help you, too overwhelmed to decide on anything at all. You didn’t want to be responsible for your life like a proper adult. You wanted someone to guide you, to take care of you because you couldn’t yet do it on your own. “I’m gonna book you an appointment, okay honey?” You nodded your head, relieved that you had one thing less to decide on. She pulled back to see how you were doing, her hands wiping away your gray tears tinted by mascara. “You’re gonna be a-okay.” She smiled at you fondly, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Let’s take a few deep breaths.” You breathed together with her, in and out, slowly regaining control over your tears and emotions. You felt your racing heart start to calm down, your lungs feeling lighter, less restricted. Natasha wiped the skin around your eyes with the slightest bit of pressure, carefully cleaning up your smudged makeup.

“Okay.” You nodded a bit more confidently, feeling significantly calmer after having the opportunity to let go of the stress you felt.

“Better?” You nodded your head as a response. “Good. Have you been to the dance floor yet?” You shook your head, the mere thought of it bringing a smile to your face. The relief that followed your emotional outburst made you feel freer, more secure in yourself and your life. She gave you a look of disbelief. “I call that criminal. I think it’s about time we conquer the dance floor. What do you say?”

“Let’s go”, you chuckled, wiping your eyes with your fingers, leaving the remnants of your stress and anxiety into the bathroom for the rest of the night that was spent under the flashing lights reflected from a disco ball.

Chapter 53: Beating around the bush

Chapter Text

You took Natasha’s advice and focused most of your energy on planning a fun summer vacation for yourself, including a fun itinerary for Paris. The beginning of your summer was filled with pointless hangouts with your friends in Central Park, cafes, malls, your time spent in good company that felt uplifting and easy. You never had to think around your friends. You could just laugh manically about nothing at all until your ribs and abdomen ached from how much fun you were having. You had all the time in the world to explore New York with your friends and learn to know the relatively new people in your life better. You couldn’t fully sideline all your worries and anxiety, but you did your very best to remind yourself that you still had a life to live regardless of what Natasha was doing with hers.

“Woah!” Valéria exclaimed in shock, jumping off her skateboard to avoid riding right into a pole, your breath leaving your lungs in anticipation, instant relief taking over you when she managed to dodge the pole without taking any damage from the unyielding construction. The skateboard collided with it instead, letting out a rattle before stilling completely.

“Holy sh*t! That was a close one”, Julia gasped loudly enough for the entire skatepark to hear. You were in Dumbo, spending the unbearably sunny day melting away outside because you really had nothing better to do. You weren’t that amazing at skating, nor were you too enthusiastic to practice in the irritating heat, so you had settled down with Anastasia, Tina, and Salma beneath the bridge that went across the park, sheltering you from the blaring sun with its shadow. You grabbed a handful of chips from the open bag that sat on the piece of concrete between you and Salma, trying to soothe your hunger with the salty snack. Salma followed your cue after taking a few sips of the cherry slushy you were sharing. Most of the ice had melted long ago, but the flavor was still most definitely there.

“Be careful, Val! I don’t wanna clean up your brains from the street”, you warned playfully, hearing a laugh from her.

“Bah, I’m always careful!” You shook your head, Jesse, who was also skateboarding, scoffing in amusem*nt, her eyes moving down to the bloody skin on Valéria’s knees that were bared by her jean shorts. She had already fallen once.

“You could at least wear a helmet”, Anastasia argued, immediately receiving a sneer from Valéria.

“Ugh, that would make me so uncool. You sound like my mom.” Valéria got her skateboard again, moving to a ramp to get some more speed, a couple other skaters speeding by her.

“That’s cause your mom is right”, Anastasia snickered, Valéria sticking her tongue out at her. You watched Anastasia return the gesture, your hand brushing something other than the chips you had been aiming for. Your eyes met Salma’s as she instinctively pulled her hand back.

“Sorry.” She seemed to blush, that slightly sunburned, olive skin deepening in color. She pursed her lips to hide her smile, but you failed to do the same, grinning widely at her.

“Don’t be silly. I like you.” It just slipped. It wasn’t supposed to sound that way. “I mean you’re cool. I don’t mind my friends touching me… It’s okay, just forget about it.” You laughed awkwardly, offering the bag of chips to Salma as she giggled softly.

“I like you too.” She said it softly, as if confessing something more than just platonic liking. She was always so nice. You had invited her to hang out with you and your friends a few times over the summer, and it was looking like she was slowly becoming a staple in your friend group. It was exciting. She was such a cool person with interesting hobbies and opinions, and she was really pretty. She was so pretty, beautiful really, almost like the most gorgeous flower, or the most perfectly shiny pearl, or the sun. She was like a ball of light. You were so happy to have her as your friend. She was so pretty, and cool, and interesting.

“Girls, please, can we wrap it up? I’m melting over here”, Tina moaned, squinting her eyes at the sun that had slowly moved the shadow off from her half-naked form. You gave her an empathetic smirk as she wiped her glistening forehead into the back of her hand. She was only wearing a bikini top with her biker shorts, yet it seemed to be doing nothing to cool her down.

“Do you think the pool’s gonna be packed?” Jesse asked as she came to a sudden stop in front of you all, grabbing her skateboard with her hand by tipping it with her foot.

“Most likely”, you hummed in disappointment.

“I don’t even care”, Anastasia groaned, stretching her legs out a bit to get her blood flowing again. “I wanna go swimming.”

“Yeah, me too”, Julia agreed, all of you making the collective decision to carry out your plans regardless of how many people would be at the public pools of New York.

“We have to stop by for lunch cause otherwise I’m gonna pass out”, Salma mumbled, gathering the snacks into her bag before getting up.

“Oh my god! We should go see Pop. I want a ham toastie”, Valéria suggested, patiently waiting for all of you to clamber up from the ground so you could get going.

“Yes!” Pop was a street vendor who sold bagels and toast from a food cart in Chinatown. The condition of the makeshift kitchen was rather questionable and possibly even unhygienic but none of you could deny how incredibly delicious treats Pop was able to make within the limited space of the cart. His bagels were the best in Manhattan, at least in your opinion, and they were practically free with how often you visited him. Pop had a bad habit of giving discounts to his favorite customers, but you always made sure to tip him enough to make up for it. With your lunches in your hands, you headed to the nearest public pool in New York City, finding a narrow spot where all of you managed to fit, although only barely. You put your things down on the ground alongside your towels, Anastasia and Julia hurrying to reapply sunscreen to save themselves from the scorching flames of the sun that was about to burn their pale skin to a crisp. You pulled your shirt off, adjusting your bikini top to make sure nothing unwanted was showing, your eyes catching Salma’s. She gave you a small smile, glancing down at the tube of sunscreen in her hand.

“Can you do my back?” She offered the bottle to you as you nodded your head, immediately more than willing to help. She turned around before you, pulling her thick mane of hair over her shoulder to allow you access to her back. You suddenly felt more than flustered as you squirted the cool lotion over her upper back, your hands moving it around carefully to make sure the entire expanse of her back and shoulders was covered by the sunscreen. Your cheeks heated as you moved the strap of her bikini top aside to reveal a thin tan line. You kept rubbing her back, studying the couple of freckles that decorated her skin. You noted the way the baby hairs at the nape of her neck curled into tiny, adorable coils that you wish you could have touched. You noticed the golden clasp of her necklace tangled in the black hair, your fingers automatically moving up to work it out of the knot it had ended up in.

“Sorry, I’m just getting your necklace…” You made sure not to rip her hair, gently coaxing the clasp out of her curls.

“Thanks.” Once you were done Salma turned around, her playful eyes staring into your own, a softened look on her face. You didn’t say anything, just stared at her as the laughter of your friends surrounded you, blending into all the noise the other people in public were making.

“Who’s got my bagel? You took it, didn’t you?” Julia asked in an accusatory tone, digging through Anastasia’s bag that was the closest to her, the latter laughing quietly before coming to Julia’s aid. You and Salma smiled at each other, amused by the gentle bickering, the summer wind ruffling Salma’s hair enough to push it out of her face, the rush of air offering some relief to your heated skin.

Despite not being able to always shake away your anxiety, you couldn’t deny the peace and comfort you felt that summer. You felt good on the daily even if your anxiety spikes were relatively frequent and unpredictable. It was still manageable which came to you as a huge relief. You actually found time to be a teenager, time to relax, time to find yourself amidst all the fun you were having with your friends. You spent a lot of time outside the tower around familiar people as well as new acquaintances. You visited new places, tried out new foods, and went on random adventures that left you with unforgettable memories. It all summed up to be a rather eventful and memorable summer, but what made it significantly better from all the summers you had ever had before was your trip to Paris with Natasha. You got to see the world in a completely different light. You got to see another way of life even if Paris wasn’t exactly drastically different from the rest of the western world.

“There!” Your plane had landed an hour and a half ago in the early morning, but you were filled with energy despite being severely jet lagged from New York’s time zone. Back home it was nearing your bedtime. You were on the hunt for your very first Parisian croissant. Your luggage had been delivered straight to your hotel from the airport which allowed you to start exploring the city at once. Your eyes spotted a bakery on the opposite side of the street, your nose smelling the sweet smell of baked goods before your eyes found the building. Natasha smiled fondly as you checked the street for cars, hurrying across to get to the other side. She followed suit, both of you getting inside the shop that was opening up at that very moment, loads of freshly baked pastries and bread getting put into the vitrine before you. Neither of you required any time to ponder what you were getting, Natasha ordering two croissants and a black coffee for herself.

You couldn’t wait to sink your teeth into the flaky pastry, biting down on it as you stepped out of the bakery and onto the dimly lit street. The sun was starting to rise from the east, dying the sky a gentle blue. You had no clue where you were or where you should be going, so you simply followed Natasha’s lead, knowing that she was familiar with the city, conveniently functioning as your very own navigator. You were simply there to enjoy the atmosphere. You observed the people around you, most of them clearly heading for work, some outside to start their day with some fresh air, and some clearly tourists, there to gawk at the very same streets you were eyeing intently. You rounded a corner, finding your way to what seemed to be a long park. Before you got the chance to suggest that you should go eat your croissants there, your eyes spotted the giant monument at the end of the park, your lips parting in awe. It was the Eiffel Tower. Natasha smirked at the look on your face, guiding you across the street and toward the park. You ate your small breakfast on a bench, watching the sun rise, although your eyes were glued to the tower. It was huge. It was so big. You could barely comprehend how tall it was.

Natasha’s eyes were more interested in the people who passed you by as she took in the surroundings, sipping on her coffee, admiring the beautifully painted sky above. She felt your head on her shoulder as you leaned into her for support, taking another bite of your flaky croissant. You were tired no matter how much you wouldn’t have wanted to be, and she could tell, which is why it came to her as no surprise when you went quiet once your croissant was finished. Natasha sat in complete silence, enjoying the bustling city around her, the sun appearing in the sky, coming out to warm her skin in addition to the warmth you provided her with your cuddles. She couldn’t help but to smile. She was physically removed from her investigation, allowing herself to have a proper break from the stressful work that threatened to consume more and more of her time every day. With you running around Manhattan with your friends, she had more time to focus on her work, Maria’s assets coming in more than handy with research. She was making progress, but she couldn’t say it wasn’t exhausting. Her mind was in knots, constantly working out clues and connections, even when she was trying to take some distance from the stress of it all. She couldn’t turn her mind off, or hadn’t been able to in New York, but here in Paris she was in a completely different world. A world where only you mattered, only the beautiful sky mattered, only the sun mattered, only the food, the warmth, the culture, mattered. She let you nap for quite a while as she simply sat with her thoughts, eventually waking you up so you wouldn’t waste the whole morning away on the bench, her stomach rumbling for some brunch.

You had an entire week in Paris to explore all the old buildings, beautiful museums, and restaurants. You got to see people, places, history, everything you could have thought of. Expensive malls and shops, random streets and vendors who wanted nothing more than to take your money. It was almost shocking how much you managed to learn about the world, yourself and your mother during such a short span of time. You couldn’t quite digest it all. You spent so much time with your mother on the daily, you always had. You hadn’t expected to learn more about her as a person when in a new environment.

“Right this way, mademoiselle.” You looked carefully as the middle-aged server you had met a minute ago placed his hand on Natasha’s lower back to guide her into the candlelit dining hall. He was very polite, overly so in your protective opinion. He was all smiles, but so was Natasha, which came to you as a surprise, her gentle giggles and flirty smirks bringing a frown to your face. He turned to you with a similar, but noticeably less appeasing smile, pulling out a chair for you to sit down on. You thanked him despite the suspicion you felt for his politeness, grasping the menu that he offered you, beyond relieved to finally sit down and have something to eat and drink after all the walking and exploring you had done that day. Natasha thanked him in French, adding something other than “merci”, which meant that you immediately fell off track. He seemed impressed with her French, clearly pleased.

“Tu parles français. So jolie!” You eyed him in mistrust. He was making your mother giggle like a schoolgirl. She was better than that. You didn’t understand her reply, but you could tell from their actions that they had moved on to discussing drink options.

“You sure think he’s funny”, you mumbled slightly bitterly after he had left to go fetch you complimentary grissinis, unable to believe that she was actually entertaining a man.

“You’re the one always going on about having a father”, she shot back playfully, smirking smugly at the comical expression that took over your face.

“Am not! Besides, you're too good for any man.”

“Thank you, darling.” She smiled brightly, eyeing the menu as another server brought you both glasses of champagne.

“Well if you’re allowed to flirt with the lobby boy then surely I’m allowed some fun too.” Natasha gave you a look, your eyes meeting from behind the menus.

“Mama! Not that kind of fun”, you chuckled in disbelief. “And I don’t flirt with him. I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

“Oh, poor boy.” She shook her head in disbelief, a look of pity crossing her face. “Maybe not, but he surely flirts with you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” You looked appalled, like you were about to step in to defend yourself, but you had nothing to say. You hadn’t really noticed anything. “Besides, I’m simply ensuring that we get the best service possible. Can’t blame a woman for trying.” It was definitely not the first time in Paris that Natasha had managed to attract a man’s attention. You understood why she turned heads. You knew why. It was all about the way she carried herself. She was elegant, polite, but also strong and confident. She had the ability to own any room she walked into.

“How do you do it?” You asked suddenly, the menu losing your attention.

“Do what?”

“How do you make everyone like you?” She looked pensive for a moment, like she was trying to word her answer.

“It’s something I was taught ever since I was a kid. You just kind of have to mirror them, make them feel seen, make them feel confident and in control, especially with men. They like feeling admired. They’re pretty easy to fool. Women are a bit trickier sometimes. Women you have to make feel understood, welcomed. Women like to feel equal to one another, although it also depends a lot on the individual.” You listened intently, never having realized how intriguing it all was. “With time, you learn to read people, and when you know how to do that, you’ll be able to please them in your desired way. This, of course…” She waved her finger in the air to signal what she meant. “…is textbook. He’s just being friendly and doing his job. Little stuff like this makes it more bearable for him.”

“And what would you do it for? Did you have like missions or something?” You were sucked right into the topic, more than invested in the wisdom she had to share.

“Usually for gathering information. I would gain their trust and they would tell me about themselves, their lives, their business. When you’re good enough they don’t even realize the things they’ve let slip.” She had a small smile on her face, elicited by the excitement that shone in your eyes.

“Could you do it to me?” You were eager to see her in action, intrigued by the concept of manipulation.

“I don’t need to do it to you. I already know everything.” You frowned at her smirk.

“You don’t know everything.” She raised her brown in challenge.

“No?” You squinted your eyes, your mind immediately starting to recall things that she might not have known about.

“No.”

“Try to think of one thing that I don’t know about.” She grasped her glass of champagne, taking a sip, her amused eyes holding your defiant gaze. You were trying, you really were, but you told her everything. She knew everything; even your friends’ business because you had a busy mouth on you.

“Got it?”

“Oh! Do you know about my diary?” You watched a giant smile find Natasha’s face, your hand coming up to your face to slap your forehead for being so idiotic. “sh*t.”

“Easy.” She chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the look on your face. “But you’re my baby. I’ll give you that. We have history, so it’s different.”

“I can’t believe how simple that was”, you moaned in annoyance. “What the hell?”

“Yeah, sometimes simple is the way to go. It can be so unexpected that you don’t even realize.” You looked at each other for a moment, a sense of reverence forming between you, at least on your part.

“How was it in the Red Room?” Your tone softened, the atmosphere changing slightly. You became more tentative. “I don’t mean the bad stuff… but like, what was it like, or how was your regular day?” You were afraid of stepping on her toes, of causing a negative reaction in her, clearly a lot more mindful of how and what you were asking her. “You don’t have to answer.” Her smile waned down, a fond look finding her eyes.

“It’s alright, darling. I don’t mind.” You saw the softness on her face, the gratitude for how careful and respectful you were being. “It was grim… for the most part. I won’t lie. We had strict rules, a strict schedule, strict teachers.” She pursed her lips, your brows arching into a frown. Maybe you shouldn’t have.

“Did you have like a school schedule? What did you study?” You tried your best to move the focus on happier parts of her life, if there even were any. “You’re so smart and you know so much. How did you learn French and all the other languages?” You were beyond eager to know, Natasha’s heart warming from your enthusiasm.

“Yeah, we had school Monday through Saturday, and we had all the fun stuff. Languages, math, science, history, geography. We had everything. The widows need to be smart, always prepare. We need to know things because even the smallest pieces of information can save our lives in a difficult situation.” She seemed to ease into the conversation a little more. “We need extensive general knowledge to be able to discuss with all kinds of people.”

“What was your favorite subject?” You were interrupted by the waiter, receiving your breadsticks before you placed your orders. You didn’t even care what you ordered because of how eager you were to continue the conversation. You wanted to know more, and she was finally willing to let you in. You ordered the first thing your eyes landed on, tuning back to Natasha for her answer. She ordered her own appetizer and main course before handing both of your menus to the waiter.

“I always loved languages. They made me feel like I was someone else for a moment.” Suddenly her French flirting made more sense. “It’s fun. It’s like playing dress up.”

“What languages do you know? Other than the obvious.” You knew she spoke English, Russian, Spanish, French and German.

“Oh, boy. Uh, let’s see.” She rubbed her hands together, looking away at the other tables. “Latin, Mandarin Chinese, Vietnamese, Italian, Sign Language, of course, some Swedish and Norwegian, a bit or Arabic but it’s getting a little rusty. Then also Xhosa, although I use it rarely. I haven’t been to Wakanda in years.” You stared at her with your mouth open. Somehow half of the languages had never been mentioned by her. You never realized she was so incredibly intelligent.

“Mama… That’s insane.” A wide smile of disbelief took over your face. “You’re insane.” She could practically see the admiration radiate from you. “And I’m over here struggling with Russian.”

“It’s a difficult language”, she mused in your defense, receiving a shake of your head.

“Which one’s your favorite?” You felt like you were about to fall off your seat from excitement.

“I’ve always liked Chinese and Arabic. Such beautiful languages.” She nodded softly as if in emphasis. “I also really like sign language. It’s kind of like me and Clint’s thing.” She smiled.

“Can you say something in Chinese, or Arabic, or any of the languages. I wanna hear.” You leaned closer expectantly, filled with anticipation.

“Wǎnshang hǎo. Nǐ hǎo ma?” It was absurd almost to hear the language roll off her tongue so casually.

“Oh my god. That is so cool!” You couldn’t stop smiling. “What does it mean?”

“Good evening. How are you?” She repeated in English.

“And how would I respond?”

“Hěn hǎo would be ‘I’m good’.” You repeated the words, testing them on your tongue, your incorrect pronunciation prompting Natasha to repeat it a few times for you.

In the midst of all your amazement you eventually received your meals, the conversation carrying through the entire dinner. The topic was far too interesting for you to pass up on. You could have listened all night to Natasha speak all the different languages she knew, but you also wanted to hear more about the rest of her childhood, slowly circling back to the subject of school after receiving multiple samples of all the languages she spoke. “I really liked school. I liked learning.”

“No wonder you’re so smart”, you chuckled, spearing ravioli into your fork, even though you were almost too engrossed in the conversation to really focus on the food. It was delicious though, so you did your best to manage both at the same time.

“I liked chemistry a lot. We got to make potions and learn how to handle chemicals.” She didn’t tell you that those little potions they made were meant for killing people, just to keep the conversation on the lighter side. “It was fun, like puppet mastery. You needed to have the right amount of the right stuff to create what you needed, and you could manipulate it to achieve your desired reaction.”

“I hate chemistry. I don’t get it.”

“I know, honey. I’ve done like half of your chemistry homework this year.” She paired her words with a small look that made you grin at her innocently.

“You’re the coolest”, you tried, but she just rolled her eyes in good nature, shaking her head.

“Nice try. Next year you’re doing your own homework.”

“Mama”, you whined childishly, giving her a pleading look. She merely chuckled.

“Math too, by the way.”

“But you like math”, you groaned in feigned annoyance, although some of it was authentic. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“Trust me, freshman year math is nothing but a nuisance.”

“A nuisance that you at least know how to solve”, you mumbled bitterly, your chest warming from the grin on Natasha’s face.

“You have clearly not taken after your mother. I’m raising a cheater, a little charlatan.”

“Or then I’ve taken exactly after my mother.” You felt a bit of pride for the look of surprise on her face, her brow lifting up as if she was impressed by your comeback.

“Maybe so.” She was smiling, pursing her lips to try to hide her little grin, her attention shifting to her frutti di mare. She was beyond pleased by the interest you were showing in her. She loved that you truly cared about her, that you had real admiration toward her, not because she exactly needed your validation, but because it made her feel like she had succeeded in building a genuine, loving bond with you, the kind of bond that some mothers and daughters could only dream of.

“Did you have friends when you were my age? Who did you spend time with?” Natasha gave you a look, wiping her mouth into a napkin as she once more accessed the part of her mind that hadn’t seen the light of day properly in years. It was shocking how easily she had been able to push aside all the good moments from her youth by simply focusing on the bad.

“The other widows mostly. We didn’t get to be outside the institution much and whenever we did, we were observed pretty closely. The relationships between the widows have always been tricky. We were pitted against each other to ensure that no alliances formed. We all had to fight for ourselves which got lonely pretty quickly. Yelena is probably the only widow I ever held onto.” You smiled at each other at the mention of your aunt. Natasha looked hesitant for a moment. “Or… there was also this other girl called Serafima.” Natasha smiled immediately, your interest piqued further if it was even possible anymore. “She was my age. Top of our class, lethal, cold and ruthless. But not to everyone.” Natasha looked away, her cheeks feeling warm, a ball of sorrow in the pit of her stomach. “We didn’t hang out that much or manage to spend time together for that matter, but she often looked at me and smiled at me in the hallways or during training. She had a confident, knowing smile.” Natasha’s gaze threatened to blur as she recalled the girl who had unknowingly had a huge impact on her, the girl who had made her feel for the very first time. “She became my safe space, even if it was only in my imagination. We couldn’t really interact too much without raising suspicions, but the one time we could do that was at night when we went to bed. Hers was next to mine. Sometimes she would whisper comments to me.” Natasha looked at your expectant face, feeling an odd sense of relief for being able to share her past with you. “She would compliment my fighting skills… and other stuff, but she always thought I was good at combat.” You noticed the look on her face, noticed the reverent awe on her features as she recalled someone who had once clearly meant a lot to her.

“Thought?” You noted the past tense with the sense of longing, asking for confirmation on your deduction.

“She’s dead.” Natasha’s face turned rather grim as she recalled the fateful day that she had beaten her opponent in a match and been told to finish off the job. Serafima had given Natasha a look of understanding that she could never forget before the latter had snapped her neck.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Only a handful of us survived. It was also another reason why you were better off not getting attached to anyone. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed to anybody.” Her life had been so lonely that it made your stomach lurch in disappointment. She deserved so much better.

“What was she like?” You couldn’t let her get anywhere near bad memories, immediately steering the conversation into a more positive direction. Although you couldn’t lie, you were intrigued by Serafima and the mysterious air she carried, but even more so, you were intrigued by the longing look on Natasha’s face.

“She was sly, cunning, but not like the rest of us. She put that energy toward the teachers, not the other girls. She misbehaved just enough to not get herself killed because she knew that she was skilled and intelligent enough to be spared. She was incredible. I’ve never seen anyone so compelling. I learned a lot from her.” Natasha smiled softly, nodding her head as if in emphasis. She had learned more than she even realized from Serafima. Serafima had made Natasha who she was by complete accident. “She was the best there was… or almost.”

“Almost?” You frowned in surprise. “Who was better?”

“Me.” She didn’t look proud, she looked far from it. She seemed to be filled with resentment. Toward whom, you didn’t know, but you sensed that none of it was pleasant.

“And what about Yelka?” Natasha smirked immediately at the mention of her little sister.

“She was younger, so she wasn’t in the same year as me. She was best in her year, but I could beat her snarky, little ass any day. She’ll tell you the opposite, but just know that I’m right.” The topic of Yelena brought more room for you both to breathe, Natasha’s hands once again busy with her utensils.

“Yeah, I know. There’s no doubt about that. You’re the best.” You gave her a wide grin, finishing up your ravioli before taking a sip of your champagne, your face screwing up into a comical grimace that wrapped Natasha’s heart into a warm embrace. The shot of cream liquor that was served with your dessert didn’t receive the same reaction, which prompted Natasha to take the rest of the alcohol away from you. She merely chuckled at your protests, deciding that you had had your fair share of illegalities for the night, young as you were.

You walked along the dark streets after your dinner, aimlessly wandering in the neighborhood of your hotel, your course set for the Eiffel Tower to see the nightly light show. The atmosphere was serene, comforting, your topic of Red Room slowly shifting to your life and your friends as you caught up rather thoroughly with each other about the previous year in New York. It was much needed to hear how you were both feeling about your new lives, allowing you to reflect on everything that had changed but also the things that had stayed the same. You were happy, or at least as happy as you could be with everything that had been weighing down on you lately. You were both doing well overall, and that was what mattered. You were both growing despite the challenges you had been forced to face. Your evening stroll eventually came to an end when your sore feet could no longer take another step without bringing winces to your faces. You found your way back to the hotel around midnight, greeted by the worker in the lobby who Natasha had previously referred to as lobby boy. He smiled at the sight of you, asking you how your evening was going with his thick French accent. You looked at him from head to toe, his sparkling eyes and honest smile lingering on you as he just stared at you as if unable to do anything else. You replied to him, returning his smile as you engaged in a bit of small talk with him. Natasha gave him an inspecting look as she steered you away from him and into the elevator, wishing him goodnight in a rather definitive manner. You rode the elevator up in silence, locating your hotel room with ease. The second Natasha opened the door you barged inside and plopped yourself down onto the neatly made bed, letting out a heavy sigh of exhaustion.

“You might just get yourself a boyfriend”, Natasha commented with a bit of tease, your head popping up from the comforter.

“What? What are you talking about?” She smirked at your reaction.

“Lobby boy”, she elaborated with a knowing smirk. “He was all over you.”

“No, he wasn’t”, you chuckled a bit awkwardly. Or had he been? You really couldn’t tell. You weren’t sure if you even wanted him to like you, whether it was real or not. “Why would he like me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. Why wouldn’t he?” She walked over to the nightstand, setting down her phone and taking off the few rings on her fingers.

“I’m not-” Natasha turned to you with an almost appalled look on her face.

“Not another word. I didn’t raise you to doubt yourself. You’re perfect”, she tutted gently, pressing her finger over your lips, making you smile. She was more than right.

“I don’t know why he would care.” Maybe it was because, in all honesty, you didn’t really care if he liked you or not. You didn’t care for him, although you couldn’t lie that you felt slightly like you should have been more interested in him or boys in general.

“You’re gorgeous, funny, interesting. You’re everyone’s dream.” Natasha pushed your nose like a button. “But is anyone yours?” She gave you an inspecting look as if wishing that you would open up on your own without Natasha having to pry for information. She was hoping to be trusted with it. You looked at her for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You didn’t want anyone. No, someone came to your mind. Someone… You couldn’t deny it.

“No.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I don’t like anyone.”

“That’s more than alright.” She eyed you for a bit longer, giving you a soft smile. “Salma’s been over quite a lot this summer. How are you getting along?” Why would she mention her? That was ridiculous. You grew unbearably flustered, biting back your nervous giggles.

“She’s cool.” That was an understatement.

“Yeah? I haven’t gotten a proper chance to interrogate her yet. What’s she like?” Natasha had to wipe away the grin that threatened to find her face. She had seen you two together and she had witnessed first hand the shy looks and nervous giggles. She had a feeling that there was potential somewhere under those flustered giggles.

“Um…” You were clearly a bit nervous. “She’s really sweet. Remember I told you about how lonely she was? She told me that I’ve helped her. And the girls too, of course”, you added hastily. “She says she feels better with us.”

“That’s amazing. I’m so happy to hear that she’s feeling better. How does she make you feel?” Natasha lay down beside you, pulling you into a loose hug. Her perfume wafted over you, prompting you to close your eyes at the familiar scent.

“I don’t know…” You thought about it, noticing that it was difficult for you to pinpoint what you liked about her. You almost felt like you were in awe of her and her femininity, her softness, her kindness, her sweetness.

“She’s really pretty, isn’t she?” Natasha had probably never seen a case of denial so strong.

“Yeah.” You couldn’t have disagreed because Salma’s looks really spoke for themselves. The girl was beautiful.

“Would you wanna get closer to her?”

“What do you mean?” Your stomach lurched at the thought.

“You know, would you wanna know her better? Have her be a bigger part of your life?” Natasha really was beating around the bush to the best of her abilities, yet you were not catching onto the message.

“I mean sure. We have so much fun with the girls. I think she’s already a part of her friend group.” You looked at Natasha, smiling innocently. She returned the gesture, deciding to give up on the topic, moving on to something else while your mind stayed behind, lingering on memories of Salma. “Did you ever date anyone?” You clearly weren’t planning to move on from the topic, causing Natasha to wince internally.

“No, I’m not the dating kind.” She tried to keep her response vague enough, but you were always insatiable for more.

“Why not?” Natasha didn’t exactly want to answer that because she knew her answers would make her a hypocrite. She had always preached vulnerability and openness to you and taught you to confide in others while doing the exact opposite herself. She didn’t date people because she was afraid of intimacy. She didn’t date people because she never managed to allow them close enough, the mere thought was all too horrifying.

“It’s not really my scene. I don’t need anyone else when I’ve got you.” Her reply made you frown. You might’ve been able to believe that as a kid when you had taken up a lot more of her free time. And you had believed it, but now that you were older, you were starting to feel like she might have been lacking company outside of your small family.

“You don’t want anyone?”

“No. I don’t have the time for that.” It was a lame excuse, but she wasn’t exactly lying either. “Would you want an addition to the family?”

“I mean if you found someone, I wouldn’t mind it.” You gave her a knowing smirk. “I know I was giving you an attitude earlier, but if you found some nice Frenchman who made you actually giggle like that, I’d welcome him happily.” Natasha chuckled at that, shaking her head softly at the image of her with a man. Maybe she should break the news to you. She always thought you would pick up on her sexuality, but she couldn’t blame you when she never spoke about it in the first place.

“That would be something, now wouldn’t it? You want a father?” You had had the conversation a few times and always came to the conclusion that you had enough male figures in your life.

“I don’t know. I never had one.”

“Steve’s your father. Did I never tell you?” You laughed at her joke, burying your face into her shoulder.

“Well in that case I don’t need another one.” Natasha and you chuckled softly, amused by your exhaustion-induced conversation and laughter. It was time for bed.

Every day in Paris was filled with thorough cultural immersion as well as self-discovery and improvement of family dynamics. It was not only fun, but also much needed. You experienced so many wonderful things with your mother from spa days to the heartwarming conversations that somehow kept resurfacing in one way or another. You found out a lot about Natasha’s personality, the things she liked, the knowledge she possessed, the history she had with France and the rest of Europe. She told you stories from when she had last been to the same places you were now visiting, she told you about the history that she had once learned in school, she told you about the people and their customs. You learned more about her favorite foods and drinks, her favorite art pieces, music, monuments, and stores that you had never properly come across back home.

You learned about her habit of soaking in the surrounding atmosphere by pausing completely when in a place that made her feel something. You had watched quietly from her side as she stood at the altar inside Notre Dame, feeling something that she was never going to reveal to you. She had the utmost respect for old buildings and significant places that had a lot of history. Her devotion to different atmospheres and environments was by far one of the most interesting things you discovered about her. She didn’t really talk about the internal process of it all, nor did you ask, sensing that it was something private, something that maybe she didn’t even understand herself. But something about her composure made you feel like what she experienced was sorrowful, maybe bittersweet, yet somehow clearly peaceful and much needed, so you didn’t dare to pry. You simply did your best to participate in it in your own way. Whether you were in a church, in a park, by a monument, or in a museum, you stayed beside her and remained quiet. You might not have completely understood it, but you did notice the way it grounded you into the moment and into the environment that you were experiencing. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with all the details around you, but you did find it rather intriguing. Maybe someday you would hear more about it from Natasha.

You returned back to America the day before your sophom*ore year of high school was meant to begin. You were worn down by your trip, but your heart and mind felt beyond rejuvenated. The change of scenery and culture had done wonders for the both of you, yet at the same time you were happy to be home and happy to have Liho back in your embrace, the poor cat purring like an engine to show you how much it had missed you. There was no denying the melancholy you felt for the end of summer, but you were significantly comforted by the fact that you felt ready for the new school year. You felt ready to face the future with your friends, with your family. You were ready to face whatever life had to throw at you.

The first day of sophom*ore year was rather exciting. You hadn’t seen some of your friends in a long while, immediately catching up with them in the hallway before being called into class. You had brought small souvenirs to your closest friends, handing them cute keychains that you had matched with their respective personalities. You really liked the keychains and you even had matching ones with Natasha. You had gotten yourself croissants to symbolize the beginning of your trip as well as to honor the fact that you had eaten your body weights in croissants and pain au chocolates in France. It was rather fitting in your opinion. Your head teacher called you into class in the midst of your friends admiring their souvenirs, all of you moving toward the classroom alongside the other students. You and your friends headed to the back of the class out of habit, seating yourselves wherever you could. You looked around, observing your classmates and how they had changed over the summer. Most still looked the same, but some had definitely made some stylistic changes from new haircuts to more mature clothes. You scanned each of the students in the classroom, your eyes locating an unexpected addition to what you had thought to be a familiar group of students. There was someone new, someone you didn’t recognize, even if the only thing you could see was her back profile.

Your teacher started the assembly rather quickly, welcoming you all back to school, going over the basics, asking questions, talking about his own summer vacation. Your eyes remained on the new student as you curiously waited for your teacher to address any changes that had occurred in the school over the summer, not quite sure what to expect. And moments later when you finally got what you had been asking for, you wished you could have run away, ran far, far away from your school. The teacher called the new student to the front to introduce herself, your gaze meeting hers. Two chocolate brown eyes stared right back at you, breaking your glass heart into ruthless shards that tore through your chest, blood pouring out of the wounds that had once been falsely patched.

Chapter 54: A blast from the past

Chapter Text

Makena. Makena f*cking Davies was standing in front of your classroom, introducing herself as if she wasn’t the very reason you had wanted to move out of the compound and escape your childhood home. Your mind was fuming, your stomach tying itself into tight knots as your cheeks flushed from emotion. You almost felt like you couldn’t breathe as all the hurt rushed back to the surface, demanding for your attention after having been pushed to the side by your new life and new friends. You hadn’t realized how effectively you had managed to feign your healing process. You didn’t realize how blindly you had believed in forgetting all about Makena. You hadn’t realized that forgetting didn’t equal forgiveness, it didn’t equal healing.

“Are you okay?” Anastasia asked in a quiet whisper, leaning closer to you after noticing how fidgety you had become. She could tell that you couldn’t even look at the new girl at the front of the classroom, which immediately alerted Anastasia of something abnormal. “What is it?” You took a deep breath to control your emotions, your panic turning into anger.

“Remember Makena?” You had told your friends all about your old life somewhere amidst the ongoing process of bonding. They knew about all the drama, and all the happiness and love of your childhood, just like you knew most about their pasts and lives. The exchange of information had happened naturally and gradually over the past year which was why none of your friends required an explanation. Jesse and Tina who sat in front of you and Anastasia were clearly listening intently for what you had to say, their gazes to the front as they pushed their chairs back the slightest bit to hear you better. “That’s her.”

“skan*”, Tina muttered under her breath, catching you completely off guard. You let out a small huff, pinching your lips shut immediately, your anger starting to dissipate the slightest bit because you had something that Makena didn’t. You had friends, a community at school, and you were being offered revenge on a silver platter. Had you been alone, you would have been in complete ruins from Makena’s return, but with your new friends by your side, maybe you wouldn’t have to be as broken and bruised as you had initially thought.

Sitting in class, pondering over the situation gave you enough time and peace to calm down from the shock. You didn’t lose your mind, didn’t lose your composure or the grip on your emotions. You took deep breaths and focused on what the teacher was saying while you also listened in on Jesse and Tina’s bickering over the latter’s squished snickers bar that Jesse had allegedly sat on. It was incredibly entertaining, you couldn’t lie, but your amusem*nt eventually wore down as the lesson dragged on until forever, and you all slowly grew bored. Your thoughts and gaze wandered back to Makena. She looked more mature compared to the last time you had seen her. She had slimmed down slightly, her hair styled neatly into a slick bun at the back of her head. The clothes she wore were very her, but those too were more mature. She had black, light wash bootcut jeans and a tight long sleeve with a low neckline. You could see the straps of her soft pink bra show from beneath her shirt. It was clearly intentional, the pink matching her long nails and pink belt. What the hell were you supposed to do? What was supposed to happen next?

Your mind couldn’t help but to imagine various scenarios of what could possibly happen after your lesson. You imagined going up to her and simply slapping the living daylights out of her. You imagined the look on everyone’s faces as Makena would hold her burning cheek, her round, brown eyes looking at you in surprise. You imagined glaring at her, you imagined flipping her off, you imagined her coming to talk to you only for you to cuss her out. It was rather obvious how you felt about her presence. After allowing your more violent daydreams to pass by, you moved on to more realistic scenarios. You could see very vividly the awkward smile you would give her simply to be polite. You didn’t want to smile at her, deciding that she didn’t even deserve a smile from you. It became unclear to you what she deserved, your imaginative scenarios ranging from violence to forgiveness, yet you didn’t seem to be able to figure out what it was that you truly wanted with her. You had friends now. You didn’t need Makena anymore. You didn’t need her acceptance, her company, her attention, yet she stirred something so deep within you that you didn’t know how to access the murky ball of pain inside you. It hurt to see her. It hurt more than you wanted to admit, but you couldn’t understand why. You had moved on, you had gotten over the pain she had brought you. It had really hurt to be left out and forgotten, but it was in the past, it no longer mattered. So why did it hurt so badly even with your new, loving friends around?

Your mind flashed with a bunch of good moments, happy moments, you had shared with Makena. You recalled your kiss, all the sleepovers, her family, all the love that you had felt for each other, all the things you had shared with each other for years on end. She had been half of your life until she had chosen that she no longer wanted to be a part of it. She had been your rock, your first proper friend, your first best friend, your first kiss… The kiss. You felt your body flush with anger and hurt. You had wasted your first kiss on someone who it had meant nothing to. You had been a mere practice tool for her. You had wasted your time, energy, and love on someone who, in hindsight, had only been looking to get rid of you. She had slowly begun to think of you as unworthy of her attention. She had deemed you uncool, insufficient, boring, whilst you had shown her nothing but companionship. Hell, you could’ve even compared her to a sister, like you had all those years ago. The betrayal was undeniable. There was no way around it, but something about it hurt more, something ached in a way that demanded your attention. Something inside you was screaming to acknowledge a detail that you couldn’t seem to figure out.

“Alright, that concludes today’s lesson. Remember to do your homework or I will put your name up on the naughty list.” Your teacher’s voice pulled you out of your head, your eyes glancing automatically at the blackboard that displayed the naughty list in the upper left corner. So far there were no names on it, but you already knew that Kai was going to be up on it by next week. You glanced at all your friends who had been equally bored to death by the lesson, their tired expression gaining a bit of vibrancy at finally being freed. Your differing schedules prompted you to say your goodbyes before heading for your next classes of the day. You were hoping to god that Makena wasn’t in geography with you.

“I’ll see ya at lunch. God, I’m starving already”, Anastasia moaned, waving her hand at you as you all exited the classroom.

“Ugh, tell me about it”, Tina echoed, her squished chocolate bar clearly not enough to hold her hunger.

“See ya.” You glanced down at your phone as you all dispersed into different directions, your eyes finding a text from Salma who had informed you that she would come to you, so you could go to your next class together.

“Hey, Y/N.” A familiar voice that you hadn’t wanted to hear pulled your attention away from your phone, your gaze rising up to meet a pair of expectant eyes. Makena looked at you hopefully, giving you a rather confident smile for an asshole like her. You could have taken her enthusiasm and kindness as a compliment. You could’ve let it go to your head and feed your ego; she wanted to talk to you, perhaps rekindle your existing connection. But you didn’t view her kindness as something placating, you took offense in it instead. How dare she parade around like she had done nothing wrong? Had she an ounce of shame for the way she had treated you? Had it never truly gotten into her head that she had been so cruel to you? You stared back at her, unsure of how to even address her.

“Yeah, hi.” It was blunt and definitely intentionally discouraging toward Makena. You had no interest in her nor the bruises she had left behind.

“How’s it going?” You couldn’t understand why the hell she was striking up a conversation with you when it was rather obvious that you were less than inclined to take part.

“Good.” You nodded your head, glancing at Salma, who had just appeared from around the corner. She looked a bit apprehensive to approach you since you were in the middle of a conversation, staying slightly behind to avoid disturbing you and Makena. “How’s your family?” You sounded shockingly uninterested, even to your own ear.

“We moved to Lenox Hill just now. Remember the building my mama worked on?” She was oozing pride, she was conceited and arrogant, at least in your opinion. It could have been your own emotions manipulating your perception but regardless of how accurate your perception was to reality, you didn’t like her attitude at all.

“Cool. Well, tell Viv I said hi.” You didn’t actually care, you were just being polite. You resented the whole family, except maybe not Bruno, the family dog. You gestured for Salma to come closer, signaling to the both of them that the conversation was over.

“Thanks.” For the first time Makena seemed a bit bummed out, but you didn’t even try to act like you cared.

“Bye.” You felt a smile spread onto your face as you and Salma’s gazed met. She hurried to you and swept you away quite literally, bringing you into a tight hug that made you giggle, the sound of it echoing in Makena’s ears as she watched you from afar with nothing to do and nowhere to go. You pushed the thought of Makena aside, focusing on Salma instead, the ball of dread in the pit of your stomach getting dispersed by a herd of butterflies as you pulled away from the warm hug to see her face.

“Hi.” She whispered, remaining close to you, her wide smile and dark eyes stealing all your attention. She was so beautiful and soft but also fierce and full of light, even more so after being recharged by the summer months and the company of good people.

“Hi.” Your own smile was shy, your hands remaining connected once you both pulled away from the hug.

“How was Paris?” She was more than curious, holding your hand as you walked down the hallway to get to your geography lesson. You glanced down at your hands, allowing her to keep your hand all to herself. You didn’t mind it at all. Maybe you even liked it; really, really liked it.

“It was amazing! I brought you something.” Your smile widened into a knowing grin when you saw Salma’s shocked expression.

“No way! You shouldn’t have”, she moaned, but her eyes were already trying to get a peek of what you were digging out of your backpack.

“I really wanted to.” You pulled out a lump wrapped in thin paper from your backpack, handing it carefully to Salma who immediately started unwrapping the gift. She revealed a small porcelain statue of a bust, the woman depicted in the small, fist-sized replica of a statue wearing a thin veil over her face.

“The Veiled Virgin”, Salma gasped almost imperceptibly, the air stolen from her lungs as she held the gorgeous piece in her hand. “What?” She sounded rather puzzled by the fact that she was holding it in her hand.

“I spotted it at this flea market by complete accident.” You couldn’t help but to grin like a fool for making her speechless. You had discussed the statue in art class the previous spring. The specific piece had stuck out to you for its incredible attention to detail, but to Salma it seemed to mean something more. You felt like she saw more and appreciated art more than you did. It was rather evident in the way that she caressed the veiled virgin’s face, her gentle fingers tracing the marble of the miniature replica.

“Thank you.” Salma pulled you into her embrace, the immense gratitude she felt bleeding through her tone. You welcomed her into the hug, your face buried in her thick hair that smelled like a summer night. There was no other way to describe it. She smelled like the safety of a starlit sky. She pulled back to see your face, her gaze roaming over your features before she leaned forward to kiss your cheek. You felt your stomach drop, heat rushing to the surface of your skin as an involuntary smile spread onto your lips. You glanced away from her to control your nerves, noting that the hallway was completely empty, Salma seeming to catch onto that specific detail as well. “We should probably go to class”, she said with a shy smile on her face, her eyes moving back down to the statue.

“Yeah, wouldn’t wanna be late on the first day.”

No matter how hard you tried to forget about Makena’s invasion into your life, you couldn’t forget about her. You couldn’t push aside the feelings she brought up for you. It was a sunny afternoon when you finally stepped outside the school building that day, filling your lungs with fresh air to clear your head a bit. You felt such relief from getting to go home where you could discuss the situation with Natasha and hopefully find some answers to your less than ideal predicament. You spotted her Corvette on the side of the road. She was always perfectly on time. As you made your way to the black car, you noted that there was someone beside it, someone who was not just a casual bystander.

“Romanoff, right?” You heard the boy speak to your mother through the passenger side window that was rolled down for him.

“Yeah.” Natasha hummed her answers, the quiet sound only barely carrying to you as you got closer. She eyed your classmate in what you recognized to be amusem*nt; she was clearly entertained, feeling playful. You got as close as you could without interrupting them, slightly curious about what business he had with your mother.

“A nice car you got.” He had got to be kidding you. The air around him was boastful, the smirk on his face all too wide and all too proud. You rolled your eyes. “Name’s Eric.” He actually dared to reach his hand inside the car for Natasha to shake. You looked at her in utter shock as she gave his hand a squeeze, her smile turning humored. She gave you a quick look to acknowledge you before her attention went back to the boy.

“She’s a Stingray, isn’t she?” He pulled back a bit to admire the car as he smoothed his hand over the glossy surface. He was assaulting the car. You scowled at him, wishing to communicate to him that he should wrap it up as soon as humanly possible. You could tell that he was trying to be charming, trying his very best to be straight out of a romance movie. It was… You didn’t quite have the words for it. He was acting like his grandma had told him he resembled Elvis and he had completely just run with it.

“Yes. She’s gorgeous, a real beauty.” Natasha’s eyes had a spark to them. She loved her car, you knew that for a fact, but what you didn’t know was why the hell she was entertaining Eric at all.

“Almost as gorgeous as you.” Oh, f*ck off. You had to bite the inside of your lip to reign in your reaction. What a cheap line.

“Maybe someday you’ll get a ride.” Natasha’s tone was dangerously close to flirty, but in a teasing way, one that let you know that she was doing it to tease you instead.

“Alright, leave my mama alone, dipsh*t.” You simply had to step in. And you did it quite literally, swinging your backpack at him to get him to move off the passenger side window so you could get in.

“Ow!” Eric received the hit like a gentleman, despite the sharp corner of a textbook giving him quite the beating. “What, you said she was single.” His tone was whiny as his hand found the spot you had hit on his side. He thankfully realized to back away despite his words of protest. He chuckled softly, clearly indicating that he wasn’t being entirely serious. He reminded you a lot of Tony. Eric looked at you for a moment, smiling a goofy grin at you, respecting your request and moving away from you.

“Get out of my face while you still can”, you grumbled, yanking the car door open. Natasha was grinning like a fool, clearly so very amused by the unfolding of the events.

“Ouch, that’s harsh”, Eric lamented, his eyes remaining on you, his co*cky smirk replaced by a slight smile that he couldn’t seem to be able to hold back. “I’ll see you in math, Y/N.”

“Yeah, see you.” Your tone was rather cold, bringing a small pout to Natasha’s face as she started the car, rolling up your window.

“Have some mercy on him.” Your head turned to her in mild shock.

“Were you flirting with him?” You asked in disbelief, your inquiring eyes shocked to discover the sh*t-eating grin that found her face.

“What? Just making nice, having a little fun. I love it when they blush”, she chuckled, driving away, her eyes remaining on the road as your jaw dropped.

“Mom”, you whined in embarrassment.

“I like to know that I’ve still got it.” She turned to an adjacent street, heading to the main road that would take you home the fastest. “You’ll understand when you’re fifty. They don’t call me the Black Widow for nothing.” She was in a playful mood. Not exactly serious about any of it. “That one’s got balls. The others just giggle on the sidewalk. Did you see the way his ears got all pink? Adorable”, she mumbled, but there was a hint of condescension in her tone. It was nothing but entertainment to her. “Smart boy, that one. Getting to the daughter by sweet-talking the mother.”

“Woah, woah, back up.” Natasha couldn’t help but to smile at your obliviousness.

“He’s got a crush, and a serious one at that.” She glanced your way to see your reaction, swallowing her laugh at your flabbergasted expression.

“He does not.”

“Oh, yes, he does. You should’ve seen the heart eyes on him.” Natasha shook her head in amusem*nt as if she couldn’t quite believe how blind you were.

“But then… You know what? Whatever.” You didn’t have time for him or silly crushes. You had some serious beans to spill. “Guess who was at school today?”

“Who?”

“Well, you have to guess. There’s a reason I said guess”, you groaned, earning a look from Natasha. “You’ll never guess.”

“That kid… um Kai. He missed half of freshman year, didn’t he?” You actually laughed at that, finding it hilarious that she remembered such an insignificant detail.

“Actually, he was in school today as well, but that’s not who I mean.”

“Give me a hint. It’s none of your friends, I assume.”

“Starts with an M.” Natasha gave you a small frown. No one was coming to mind, at least no one who would’ve made sense. You sat in silence for a moment longer before you couldn’t hold back your news anymore.

“Makena.”

“Davies?” Natasha seemed to have frozen for a moment as she processed the event that even she hadn’t been prepared for.

“Yeah, they’ve apparently moved to Lenox Hill.” You couldn’t help the bitterness from seeping into your tone, your eyes studying her reaction rather intently. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I haven’t spoken to Viv since last Summer, and not once did she mention anything about moving.” Natasha’s frown of surprise turned into something more sorrowful. “How do you feel about it?” She turned to look at you, offering her hand to you as a signal of comfort. You remained quiet for a moment, unsure of what you actually felt.

“I don’t… even know.” You sighed deeply, bringing your hand over your eyes as you leaned into the car door, relieved to be in a space where you didn’t have to pretend. “I f*cking hate her.” Natasha pursed her lips in mild sorrow, her thumb stroking over your thigh soothingly. It was sad to see how thoroughly you and Makena’s friendship had unraveled over time, and how drastically your attitude and feelings toward Makena had changed. Natasha had never in her wildest dreams expected you to start cussing out the girl who had been with you since your elementary years. “I don’t want her here.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah.” You recalled the way your stomach had flipped, how weak your lungs had felt when Makena had come to greet you. But then you remembered Salma and all the rest of your friends who were there for you. Your discombobulated mind wanted revenge.

“How was it?” Natasha seemed a bit wary as the grimness slowly faded away from you.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna let her ruin sh*t.” You sat up as if suddenly completely unfazed.

“What are you planning?” Natasha’s voice was filled with suspicion. She knew that look on your face.

“She’s gonna get a taste of her own medicine. See how she likes being alone.” You glanced out the window. “Stupid bitch.” Natasha’s brows arched at your mumbled comment, a look of disbelief finding her face.

“Don’t stoop to her level”, she warned.

“Can we get milkshakes?” You asked suddenly, your eyes spotting a cafe on the side of the street, Natasha speeding past it.

“Listen to me Y/N. Revenge is not the answer here.” Natasha tapped your thigh to gain your attention.

“That’s rich coming from you. You’re like the queen of revenge.” You wanted her to be on your side and currently it didn’t exactly seem like she was convinced by your plan of approach.

“That’s exactly why you should listen to me”, she argued, pulling her hand back to bring it to the steering wheel as she rounded the corner, turning to a parking lot. “All you’re gonna do is ruin your own judgment.”

“No, I won’t. It’s not like I’m gonna start bullying her.” You huffed. “Even though she definitely deserves it.”

“See? She’s already getting under your skin. It’s been a day.” Natasha shook her head, turning to look at you. “This isn’t the sweet girl I raised.” You rolled your eyes, frustrated by her resistance. She turned off the car, bringing your attention to your location, a frown finding your face.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna sort this out over some milkshakes.” It brought a smile to your face, the small act of support reminding you that your mother wasn’t the enemy. “The worst thing Makena can do to you is ruin your sense of self”, she continued as she opened the car door and got out. “You don’t have to be her friend ever again if that is what you want.” She walked over to you, pulling you into a casual hug, her lips leaving a smudge of lipstick onto your temple. “But if that’s the case, you’re gonna leave her alone.”

“Alright, fine”, you huffed in annoyance. “You’re acting like I was gonna stab her in the hallway.” You both entered the familiar milkshake bar you had visited many times, especially over the summer, your eyes moving up to the menu to find what you were craving for.

“I’m just making sure you don’t do anything stupid.” She rubbed her lips together as her eyes ran over the menu.

“When’s the last time I’ve done something stupid?” It was Natasha’s time to roll her eyes. She had a very specific recent event in mind.

“What are you having?” She chose not to mention said event as you eyed the menu intently.

“Hmm, I’ll take the cookies and cream.” Natasha placed the order, turning back to look at the cafe, looking for a place to sit. You sat down in a bar before the window that was facing the busy street, your milkshakes arriving soon after you had gotten settled in your seats.

“I don’t know what to do. It’s so messy.” Your emotions were contradicting each other rather heavily. One part of you wanted to ruin Makena, make her suffer, make her pay the price of crossing you. But another part of you just wanted to forget about her. You wanted to move on completely, just like you had before, but her sudden, consistent presence was most likely going to make it incredibly hard for you. “Can you assassinate her?” Natasha gave you a rather deadpan look that made you smirk.

“No, baby, I can’t.” Her hand came up to your face to caress your cheek and jaw affectionately. She could see that Makena had done quite a number on you, regardless of how much humor and anger you were using to try to bury the more painful emotions that she brought up.

“I don’t get why it just… hurts.” You huffed out a loaded breath, feeling the relief of expressing your emotions. “It hurts so much, and I don’t know why.” You turned to look at your mother, gnawing on your straw to distract yourself, Natasha licking some of the whipped cream off the top of her milkshake before properly addressing you.

“Do you have any guesses?”

“I-I, no… I guess not. What she did was sh*tty, yes, but I’m past it. I have friends now. Things are better. I don’t miss her anymore. I haven’t in a long time.” You sucked on the straw to get some of your milkshake as you mulled over the situation. “I haven’t thought about her in ages.”

“You liked her a lot”, Natasha said timidly, trying to navigate you closer to the very root of the matter. You had a big realization coming your way.

“I did, but it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“You had a lot of expectations for her. You trusted her. It’s perfectly natural for it to hurt when that trust is broken. It’s a lot of disappointment that you’re dealing with.”

“I loved her.” Natasha looked at you intently, gauging what you meant by your words, silently sipping on her strawberry milkshake as she waited for you to elaborate. “She was my best friend. I thought we were on the same page, but we weren’t.” You felt your eyes itch with tears, your throat closing suddenly, prompting you to push back your milkshake so that you wouldn’t choke on it. “I’m so embarrassed.” It came out in a frail whisper, your eyes remaining on your milkshake as it blurred in your vision. Natasha leaned closer to you, her hand coming up to flick away the single tear that slid down your cheek.

“You do not have to be embarrassed for feeling.” She kissed the side of your head before scooching her stool closer to your own, allowing you to lean into her for some physical comfort. You rested your head against her shoulder, letting out a deep sigh as the rest of your tears spilled. “Never be ashamed of showing people that you have a heart.” The words resonated deeply with Natasha, her past a constant reminder of how important it truly was to remain human, to remain connected to one’s emotions.

“She makes me feel stupid, like I’m blind or something. I feel like I should’ve realized what she was doing. When I look back… it all feels so obvious. I should’ve known.” You wiped your tears carefully, trying your best not to ruin your makeup.

“You didn’t expect it. You couldn’t have known. It was just as big of a surprise to me as it was to you. I would’ve never thought her to be so cruel.” Her hand found your hair, fingers getting tangled in your untied hair. “You have to forgive yourself for getting hurt. You’re not invincible no matter how much you wish you were.” You huffed out a laugh at that.

“What? I’m not? And you’re telling me this now?” You asked in surprise, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You pulled away from her embrace to see her smile.

“No, you’re not, my darling.” She hummed, her fingertip caressing down the bridge of your nose, giving the tip of it a small tap. “You’re gonna get hurt. That’s life, unfortunately. As much as I wish I could protect you from all of it, I can’t. No one can.” She had slowly learned to come to terms with that. People got hurt. It was inevitable. She could do her best to protect you, but she had recently realized that sometimes even her efforts couldn’t save you from harm. After reliving all the hurt she had gone through in her lifetime, she had gained some perspective on the matter. Pain was inevitable, and all one could really do was keep going in the hopes of healing and finding something better in the future.

“I wanna be invincible.” You grabbed your milkshake back after getting over the lump in your throat.

“I know, honey.” Natasha’s smile was tender, filled with understanding. She too had once wanted to be invincible, but reality had dawned on her one time too many. “But remember, just because Makena didn’t see your worth, doesn’t mean that you’re worth any less, okay?” You nodded, looking at her rather diligently as she shared her wisdom with you. “You’re still every bit as lovely as before.” You pursed your lips to hide your shy smile. “She’s not worth your time and energy.” The conversation you were having was long overdue. You and Natasha should have had it a year ago when all of it had been going on, but you had persistently told her that you were over the situation. It felt good to hear her say the things that you so desperately needed to hear.

“No, she’s not.” You shook your head in emphasis.

“And if she gives you any trouble at all in school, I’ll take it up with Viv, alright?” Your smile widened.

“You could just assassinate her.” Natasha rolled her eyes, but she failed to hold in the small chuckle that she let out.

“I’m not assassinating anyone.” You laughed softly, letting out a wistful sigh.

“I guess it’s a bit extreme.” You feigned your sorrow to show her that you weren’t being serious, Natasha’s hand ruffling your hair. By the time your milkshakes had been consumed, you had moved on to more pleasant topics, discussing your lives in a rather casual manner.

You had expected your attitude toward Makena to change after the conversation you had had with your mother, yet the sight of your former best friend kept causing spikes of anger and betrayal within you. Just seeing her in the same classroom or even the same building made your stomach churn, immediately alerting you of Makena’s unwanted presence. It was hard to ignore her when every time your eyes landed on her, your body suddenly felt like a bottomless pit, a void of pure nothingness. It was exhausting. You had been doing your very best to avoid any interactions with her for the past week, but you knew you couldn’t run away from her forever.

“Y/N, you’re with the new girl.” Of course you were. Your teacher must have hated your guts, regardless of her lack of insight on you and Makena’s pre-existing relationship. You looked at Makena, her head turning to look at you just the same. You stared at each other for a moment before you started carefully moving out of your seat, reluctantly collecting your things to move into the empty seat beside her. Jesse gave you an apologetic look that surprisingly enough did comfort you a little, but it didn’t last for long.

“Hi.” Your greeting was lax, lacking any enthusiasm, Makena’s greeting mirroring yours. You sat next to each other as the teacher continued to assign partners for the chemistry task. You felt like you couldn’t look at her for too long or you would turn into stone. You kept glancing her way, struggling to get a word out. It was incredibly awkward. How were you meant to just push everything aside and address her like any other human being?

“Um, will you get the beakers?” Makena sounded very unsure, her previously exhibited confidence no longer there. She too could sense the awkward jumble of emotions that existed between you.

“Yeah.” You got up again, heading into the back of the class where some of the other students were looking for the required equipment. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to reign in the anxiety you felt before grabbing a pair of beakers and another of goggles. You returned to the table, working in almost complete silence with Makena, each of the rare utterances between you sticking strictly to the task at hand. Neither of you knew how to address the other and it failed to develop into anything more sophisticated over the first month of school regardless of how many times you had been paired up by teachers. You couldn’t work with her, and she couldn’t work with you because you didn’t allow it, so you remained stuck in awkward silence.

“Would you let it go already?” Lydia moaned after catching you staring off into space —also known as Makena, who was seated alone across the dining hall. You did your best to feel triumphant for seeing her so alone until you realized that you were looking into the past and into what your life had once been. You had spent many lunch breaks alone whenever Charlotte hadn’t been at school. Your intense resentment gained a complimenting sense of pity. You felt bad for Makena as she poked her food with her fork, looking rather miserable, but you pushed the feeling aside, focusing back on your own meal.

“Yeah, I should…” But you couldn’t. You couldn’t let go and you failed to understand why.

“I know it’s hard, but all she does is make you grumpy”, Julia said with a little more sympathy than Lydia had.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was weak, mind far away from reality, battling with your overwhelming thought process. “It’s just…” You sighed heavily, your stomach cramping from anxiety and stress. You hated that feeling. You hated the way your whole world seemed to fall apart any time you caught a glimpse of Makena. You felt almost nauseous. “Why did she have to come here?” You felt a ghost of the disappointment you had experienced upon laying your eyes on Makena on your first day of sophom*ore year. Why here? Why now?

You found yourself staring at her in confusion time and time again, her beautiful, familiar aura drawing your attention back to her whenever given the opportunity. She was also on the same biology course as you, giving you more than enough time to ponder your history. You had spent an entire month staring at her. It was the same thing every day. Your eyes were drawn to her black hair and dark skin, those dark eyes and round features stealing your focus. She still looked the same, although she had grown out of her awkward phase, if you could even call it that. She was starting to look rather adult, like a proper New York citizen. Your visual observations were always accompanied by a jumble of emotions that contradicted one another heavily. You longed for who she had once been. You longed for the friend you had grown up with. You longed for her attention, her affection. You longed and you longed, the feeling paired with a sense of anger and resentment. You didn’t want to miss a single part of her. You didn’t want to feel anything toward her, but you couldn’t help but to feel everything toward her. You felt every single emotion on the face of the earth. You wished she would have cared about you more, you wished she would have tried harder to come back into your life, yet at the same time you resented her for even looking your way. It didn’t make sense, none of it. You made no sense, and that frustrated you.

The October wind ruffled your hair as you stepped outside with Anastasia, her face screwed up in an annoyed scowl as she stared down at her phone screen. She had been fighting with her girlfriend all day, their bickering reaching a point where you no longer cared to even listen to the updates she gave you. Christie liked to fight about the most insignificant things you could imagine. She liked to criticize Anastasia for not paying enough attention, for paying too much attention, for always doing too much, yet at the same time for not doing enough. Their interests clashed rather aggressively, as did everything else about them. You couldn’t understand why they were still together, especially when as of late Anastasia seemed more stressed about the relationship than anything else. You had hinted at a breakup, but Anastasia seemed too afraid to listen to your very reasonable advice.

“Is your mom picking you up?” Anastasia asked after huffing in irritation and pocketing her phone. She looked at you expectantly, but you shook your head.

“No, I’m taking the sub. Mom’s been pretty tired lately.” It was easier to say that instead of admitting that she was falling into depression. It was another thing that weighed you down on the daily. Natasha’s exhaustion had slowly crept back to her after returning from Paris. She spent a lot of time in her room, her mental state reflected in the unfinished chores around the apartment. Her predicament wasn’t as serious as it had been a few months prior, but it did get to you regardless. You were worried about her, the feeling clashing with the irritation you felt from your personal life as well as the coldness she exuded. You knew it wasn’t her fault that she had no energy for you, but you still felt the more immature side of you flare in disapproval. You knew it wasn’t personal, yet you took it that way.

“Do you want company?” You gave Anastasia a smile for her kind offer, the gesture waning down when your eyes landed on Makena who stood alone by the curb, clearly waiting for her mother to come pick her up. You wanted company more than you even realized.

“Yes, please”, you mumbled, Anastasia’s eyes following your line of sight before returning back to your face. She gave you a small pout.

“I’ve got you, babe.” She kissed the side of your head, bringing you into a brief hug as you let out a small whine of exhaustion. “I’ll walk with you.”

“Thanks.” You moved to the street, walking past Makena and Vivian’s car as it pulled up beside you. Vivian waved at you through the windshield, pairing it with a sweet smile. You returned it automatically, although you were sure she could see that you weren’t exactly pleased to see her nor Makena, heading toward the subway station without any further delays, clearly uninterested in the Davieses. It was easier to ignore them and the feelings they brought up altogether instead of trying to figure out a single thought or emotion in your head.

Chapter 55: Normal (1)

Chapter Text

You downed the last of your drink accompanied by encouraging cheers, your face threatening to screw up into a horrified grimace as the liquor burned your throat, searing heat sliding down your esophagus and all the way into your stomach. You felt weak, too affected by what you had already consumed that night. The music from the casual high school party rang in your ears, the thud of the bass pulsing in your veins. Your ears picked up on Salma’s melodic giggle that drew your attention immediately to her. She grinned at you like she was more than proud of you, your heart stuttering in your chest when stepped closer to you, but her hand went for her cup on the kitchen counter instead of touching your own. Your head was spinning, your lax body leaning into the kitchen cabinets to find support. You looked at Salma as she sipped her questionable concoction that Lydia had made for her. You had gotten your fair share of Lydia’s potions, currently suffering the aftermath of it. You felt disappointment bubble up in your abdomen, or maybe it was the alcohol. Regardless of the cause, you felt disappointed by Salma’s distance, your blurry gaze wandering up to her face, paying special attention to her dark features and pink lips, the color enhanced by lipstick. You felt a pull toward her, your hand itching to make physical contact with her. She was so beautiful, those gorgeous eyes looking at you with a hint of flirt in them, the mirth in her gaze bringing a pleasant warmth to your body. She asked you something, her lips moving, features turning expectant as she waited for you to respond but you couldn’t hear a single thing. You wanted to kiss her. You felt a prominent ache in your chest, an ache that could only be soothed by Salma and her gentle, artistic hands, her soft touch, her warmth, the scent of a starry sky. You just smiled back at her, eliciting another peal of laughter from her when she realized you were far too drunk to even realize what was going on. You laughed along with her, nearly stumbling down to the floor when your knees buckled. She pulled you closer to her to offer you some support, your chest pressing into hers in a way that made your body whir with sudden urgency. You felt a jolt of heat so strong go through you that for a moment you thought your body had malfunctioned. The thrill was far too intense, the electricity pooling in your lower abdomen with incessant need.

You thought about kissing Salma again, your eyes finding her lips. It couldn’t have been any more obvious, Salma catching on to the direction of your gaze, her smile waning down to something more apprehensive. You let out a small chuckle, pulling back from her as you recalled the last time you had kissed someone, kissed Makena. Your mind flooded with unprocessed feelings, the sensitivity that alcohol subjected you to taking full control. Your emotions did a full one-eighty, your heart squeezing sharply in pain as your stomach dropped from nausea. You wanted away from the hassle of the party. You wanted to hide for just a moment, your eyes itching with tears.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you informed hastily, looking around the house of the host of the party. He was a guy from your grade, but you didn’t know him all that well. You had thankfully visited the bathroom earlier to fix your makeup, so you knew exactly where to go, your wobbly feet prompting you to hold onto the walls to keep yourself upright. You didn’t check to see how Salma reacted to your exit, you couldn’t bear to look at her. You wanted to kiss her. No, no, no. How could you want something like that? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t how things were supposed to go. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t how you had imagined yourself to be. You made your way up the stairs, hurrying to the wide hallway. You looked around the doors around you, trying your best to recall which one of them was the bathroom, your process of eeny-meeny-miny-moe getting interrupted by someone’s presence.

“Hey, you alright?” You turned around to see Eric coming up the stairs, he gave you a warm smile. Your eyes widened as if in realization as they studied Eric’s kind eyes and disheveled hair. There it was, your one last shot at normalcy.

“Yeah, yeah.” You gave him a smile, allowing him to come closer to you. “Just wanted a moment.”

“Care for company?”

“Sure.” You shrugged, blinking your eyes to hide their glossiness from him, but the small frown on his face let you know that he had noticed your pain. He came even closer, your head tilting back a bit to maintain eye contact with him. He was significantly taller than you which only became even more evident when you noticed the way he had to look down at you, his hand coming up to the side of your face to brush some of your hair behind your ear.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He was persistent, but gentle, his eyes flicking down to your lips. You leaned your head into his hand when he cupped your heated cheek that flushed from alcohol. You nodded your head, looking up at him for what felt like forever as you both remained quiet. You felt his hand on your arm, pulling you closer to his steady frame. Now was your shot. You knew he liked you. He was perfect. He was going to grant you the safety of blending in with your peers. He would allow you to cover up the parts about yourself that you dreaded facing the most.

“I’m better now that you’re here.” You smiled up at him, leaning into him. You could tell even in your drunken mind that he was pleased, his smile growing brighter. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers sinking into your hair. Your mind felt fuzzy, but you leaned up to kiss him anyway. You could smell beer on his breath, the scent mixing with his deodorant that wasn’t capable of disguising the mild scent of sweat. You had already wasted your first kiss on someone who didn’t deserve it. What was another meaningless kiss going to do? Your eyes closed as your lips connected with his, their touch feeling dry to your glossed lips. His touch was gentle, it tickled slightly, your mind focusing all too much on the sudden wetness of his tongue that caressed the seam of your lips. You didn’t know what you were doing, yet you parted your lips, pushing your tongue out enough to meet his own. It felt like nothing. It was wet and weird. It was nothing. It didn’t matter. You pulled back, your face flushing from embarrassment, from guilt and shame. You looked at Eric, giving him an apologetic frown.

“I’m gonna go out for some… air.” You left rather quickly, nausea twisting in your stomach, the alcohol demanding a way out of your system, but the feeling was nothing compared to the guilt you felt. He was a boy. He was a stinky, gross boy. You didn’t want to kiss him, you wanted nothing to do with him. You weren’t interested in him, no, you were using him. You regretted your actions more than your drunken brain even realized. What the hell were you doing? You wanted to cry, the tears pushing forcibly through. You wanted to go home. You needed to leave immediately. Without thinking about it any further you walked onto the street, the streetlights swimming into your teary vision, the asphalt beneath your feet seeming rather unstable. You were going home, and not even the fact that you didn’t know where home was, was enough to hinder you. You put one foot in front of the other and kept walking as tears cascaded down your cheeks as your nausea only grew stronger. It was like your body knew that you had misbehaved, aiming to punish you for your misconduct. You felt so dizzy. Your knees finally gave in when the street started spinning violently in your vision, your body attempting to purge out the guilt you felt alongside the alcohol and halfway digested food that spilled to the mowed lawn beneath you.

“Y/N!” It was a female voice, but you couldn’t quite tell which one of your friends it belonged to. “What the f*ck are you doing?” Anastasia’s vanilla perfume invaded your nose as she knelt to your side, the pleasant smell failing to linger around for any longer when countered by vomit.

“Home…” You retched, staring down at the pool of vomit beneath you.

“Okay, but you can’t just leave. What were you thinking?” Anastasia started to sound more worried as the initial anger dissipated from her tone. She could see that you weren’t in the best condition imaginable.

“I wasn’t.”

“Well, I gathered that much. Salma said you went to the bathroom.”

“I kissed Eric.” You needed to talk to someone. You desperately needed guidance which was reflected both in your physical and mental states.

“What?” Anastasia’s round, hazel eyes looked at you in pure shock, but your drunken brain paid more attention to the platinum blonde of her hair that had grown past her shoulders over the time you had known her. You couldn’t look her in the eye. “But you’re… aren’t you? You’re- you don’t like… boys.” Anastasia didn’t want to expose herself for assuming something so significant about you, but she had done that unintentionally ages ago.

“What?” You just stared at each other, both just as shocked by the events. “I don’t know. I-I… I want home.”

“Okay, babe, I’ll get you home.” Anastasia started digging up her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, dialing Natasha’s number without a second of hesitance. She knew that Natasha would be there no matter what condition you would have been in. Natasha had the address, she even had your exact location courtesy of the bracelet on your wrist. You both knew that Natasha would never be mad, she would only be thankful that you were safe and unharmed.

“So… Eric.” Anastasia turned to you after the call with Natasha had ended, sitting down on the curb beside you, her arms hugging her knees to her chest.

“I don’t know”, you slurred pathetically, moving away from the vomit, your hand reaching for Anastasia’s arm to hold yourself upright.

“I don’t think that’s… How do I say this? He’s not for you.” You knew that. She was right. You could hear the apologetic tone in her voice. “You don’t have to force that stuff. It’s okay to be-”

“I’m not!” You had heard it enough times. You were sick and tired of hearing it. You had had enough false accusations.

“Okay, okay. I’ll back off, but if you ever wanna talk, you know I’m here for you, and you know we’re in the same boat.” She pulled you closer, guiding your head to lean against her shoulder as you waited for Natasha’s arrival. “Whether you wanna admit that to yourself or not”, she muttered under her breath, quietly enough for you to miss it. You grabbed Anastasia’s arm, hugging it tightly, fighting your tears to the best of your abilities. You were so tired. “Here, let me…” After noticing how uncomfortable your position was, she turned sideways, pulling you fully into her embrace. You rested your head on her chest, curling up against her to nurse your upset stomach as she played with your hair and smoothed her hands down your arm and back.

“How is she doing?” Natasha arrived twenty minutes later, the car door slamming shut as she hurried to the sidewalk where you and Anastasia sat. Natasha cupped your cheek gently as she evaluated your condition, her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight of your drunken and droopy eyes. She gave Anastasia a look.

“I’m fine, mama”, you groaned, pushing yourself out of Anastasia’s embrace a bit clumsily, trading her for Natasha.

“Alright, let’s get you in the car”, Natasha muttered as your head lolled forward, hands clutching onto her jacket with surprising strength. She didn’t waste another second before helping you to the passenger seat. “There you go.” Natasha made sure you were buckled in before turning to Anastasia who had followed you to the car, Natasha’s worried eyes shifting to Anastasia. Natasha stepped closer to Anastasia, clearly intending to address her. “Thank you for calling, honey.” Anastasia nodded her head, smiling shyly, always holding that reverent look in her eyes when around Natasha.

“Of course.” Anastasia’s smile only widened when Natasha pulled her closer and planted a kiss on her forehead before enveloping her into a firm embrace. Anastasia closed her eyes, her drunk mind welcoming the gesture with open arms. She was even a bit disappointed when Natasha pulled back and cupped her cheeks to get a good look at her drunken eyes.

“Does your mother know you’re here?” Anastasia could have lied, she could have simply told Natasha that her mother had been clued in, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie when she knew that Natasha expected her to be honest. Additionally, Anastasia already knew just how impeccable of a lie detector Natasha was. Anastasia would have been caught before any words had left her mouth, so she simply shook her head.

“I told her I’m staying at your place.” Natasha gave Anastasia a chastising look, her thumb caressing Anastasia’s silky cheek. Natasha nodded her head toward the car in a silent command.

“Get in the backseat.” Anastasia did as told, climbing inside the car without further delay.

“Just focus on the fresh air, malyshka (baby).” Natasha’s hand brushed down your arm. Your head was propped against the door where you could breathe the fresh air that billowed into the car from the cracked window as you sped down the street toward the city. You hadn’t thrown up since lying in the grass, but the nausea still came in waves. “How much did you have?” There was a hint of disapproval in Natasha’s tone despite her attempts to conceal it.

“Too much”, you huffed, your voice weak and breathy. Everyone in the car was able to hear the nausea.

“You don’t say.” Had she not been so busy worrying herself sick about you she would have laughed. “And what did we agree on?”

“One drink.”

“You did a great job, myshka (little mouse).” You rolled your eyes at her sarcasm, lifting your hand up enough to flip her off, Natasha’s hand covering yours to counter the gesture as a small chuckle left her. Anastasia stayed silent in the backseat, her lips pursed in a manner that told Natasha that she was trying her best not to laugh.

“I’m fine, mama. You don’t have to worry.”

“Uh-huh.” She sounded very unimpressed with you. “You know the only reason I let you go was the agreement we made. One drink only.” Natasha looked back at Anastasia through the rearview mirror as if to remind her that she had also been made aware of the rule, bringing attention to the fact that Anastasia had done nothing to stop you. “You’re not going to the next one.”

“What?” You nearly yelped, turning around to see Natasha but the movement was too harsh and made your head throb enough to slow you down. “But it’s Halloween soon. There’s gonna be a party for sure.”

“Should’ve thought about that before getting into a condition like this.”

“Mama.” You started full-on sobbing as a result of the messy night you had had, your mind filled with layers of guilt, now more than just one kind.

“Shh, kroshka (little one). There’s no need to cry.” Her hand found your own to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re mad at me.”

“No, honey. I’m just being a parent for once.” Her comment made you let out a watery laugh. “I’m looking out for you, my darling.”

“You’re gonna make me a loser. Everyone else is gonna go and I’ll look dumb.” A string of sobs fell from your lips, the sound of them tugging at Natasha’s heartstrings despite knowing that you were mostly only crying from being drunk.

“Alright, shh, Y/N. Take a breath. No one is forcing you to be a loser.”

“You are.” You had a huge pout on your lips, the childish, accusatory glare reminding Natasha of your toddler years.

“I’m really not. You’ll be doing that on your own if you keep going like this.” You gave her another glare paired with a huff. “Why did you drink more than what we agreed?”

“Because…” You stared outside, trying to make sense of the entire night, the lights speeding by you, only adding to your nausea. You averted your gaze, leaning your head against the cool window to ground yourself. “It felt like nothing, so I thought it’d be fine. And then it wasn’t.” Natasha nodded in understanding. It was a tale as old as time.

“Alcohol takes time to digest. It doesn’t always hit you immediately, which is why it is so dangerous.”

“Yeah.” You wanted to be childish and whine and complain, but you let her berate you for a moment, choosing to be thankful of the fact that she was the reason why you were halfway to your bed by then. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven, baby.” She pulled your hand up to her mouth, kissing it a few times, her eyes remaining on the road ahead. “Did you at least have fun?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was leaning toward it. The beginning of the night had been fun and rather exciting, but in comparison to how the rest of it had unfolded you felt like the happiness you had felt had dimmed down quite a bit. “I’m just tired… and nauseous.”

“Serves you right”, she countered a bit playfully, kissing your hand one more time before letting go of you. She heard you huff softly. “And Nastja?” Natasha looked at the rearview mirror again.

“I’m okay.” Anastasia looked rather timid as she sat there still as a statue.

“No headache or nausea?”

“No, I’m not that drunk.”

“I hope you didn’t have to babysit this idiot all night”, Natasha huffed in amusem*nt, nudging you teasingly.

“No, she behaved herself, don’t worry.” Anastasia cracked a smile.

“Whatever”, you moaned in disapproval of their comments. “I just wanna sleep. And a big, fat burger.” Natasha chuckled knowingly, patting your thigh in a comforting manner.

“We got toast at home.”

You didn’t end up eating anything at home, having forgotten all about your late-night cravings once you reached home. You were so tired, you simply wanted to crawl into your bed, which is exactly what you did after guzzling down a few cups of water. You threw off your clothes and got under the covers, ignoring the fact that you had a full face of makeup and a bunch of pins in your hair. You were too drunk to care or notice that Anastasia stayed behind in the kitchen with Natasha.

“You want anything?” Natasha asked almost knowingly, expecting Anastasia’s negating answer, but her longing eyes that were directed at the loaf of bread on the kitchen counter contradicted her words. Natasha knew better than to take Anastasia at face value, she was accustomed to the girl’s unnecessarily polite manners.

“I’m not hungry.”

“How about I make you a grilled cheese?” Natasha moved to the fridge to find butter and cheese. “I’m making myself one anyway.” Natasha had eaten less than an hour ago, but she would rather ensure that Anastasia didn’t go hungry than worry about her own eating habits. Besides, it wasn’t like a good old grilled cheese was torture for her by any means.

“Well, if it’s not too much trouble…”

“Oh, kroska (little one), not at all.” Anastasia smiled that shy smile of hers again as she continued to watch Natasha cook.

“Here’s some water for you. Do you want tea or cocoa?” Natasha eyed Anastasia’s shivering form as she tried to tug her long sleeves over her hands to warm herself up. “Sweetheart, just go get something from Y/N’s closet. There’s no need for you to freeze to death.” Anastasia chuckled, getting off the stool she had sat on. She did as told and found herself pajamas from your closet, pulling on fluffy socks and a thick sweater over the pajama set she had found from the depths of your closet. She returned into the kitchen, lured back by the scent of butter and fried bread. “Your tea.” Natasha handed Anastasia a steaming mug of tea upon her entrance, sliding the first grilled cheese onto the empty plate that she had placed to where Anastasia had sat before. “And your grilled cheese with a side of ketchup.” Natasha knew that Anastasia never ate her grilled cheese without ketchup, the tiny detail bringing a blush to Anastasia’s cheeks.

“Thanks, Nat.” Anastasia began to eat, her rumbling stomach demanding for the food that had been placed in front of her as Natasha went back to cooking, frying herself an identical grilled cheese and pairing it with a mug of tea. Anastasia nibbled on the crust of the bread, blinking her eyes rapidly to push aside the difficult emotions that Natasha’s care was triggering. Why couldn’t she have been lucky enough to have a mother that loved her, a mother that cared for her? You had gotten caught for drinking yourself sick and Natasha hadn’t threatened you once. She had barely even been angered by the incident. If anything, Natasha had been worried about your safety and nothing else.

“You alright there, Nastja?” Natasha gave her a small frown as she rounded the kitchen island. “Can I take a seat?” Anastasia nodded her head. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Nothing. It’s not… anything.” Anastasia kept her eyes down, her head feeling fuzzy from the alcohol.

“You’re forgetting something”, Natasha hummed softly, leaning her elbow onto the counter as she turned to face Anastasia.

“What?”

“I know you.” Natasha reached her hand to catch the lone tear that rolled down Anastasia’s cheek. “What’s wrong, baby?” Anastasia let out a shaky breath, reigning in her emotions. She couldn’t tell Natasha how jealous she was of you and her relationship. She couldn’t admit to being hopelessly obsessed with the idea of Natasha. She couldn’t tell her how badly she wanted back into Natasha’s arms, or how grateful she was for the care that Natasha showed her. So, she chose something else to discuss instead.

“My girlfriend.”

“She’s giving you trouble again”, Natasha stated knowingly. “What is it this time?”

“She won’t let me break up with her.” Anastasia’s fingers played with a piece of crust that was left on her plate, the edge of it slightly charred.

“Won’t let you, how?” Natasha began to eat her meal to bring some casualness to the atmosphere, allowing Anastasia some time to think.

“She said… She said that she was gonna hurt herself.”

“Oh.” Natasha shook her head in disbelief. “No, we’re not having any of that. She has no right.”

“I don’t want her to hurt herself, but she’s been such a bitch- sorry…” Anastasia apologized immediately for her inappropriate language, but Natasha merely smirked.

“No, no, you used the right word.” Her encouraging tone brought a smile to Anastasia’s face.

“I don’t wanna be with her anymore. The thought of her makes my stomach hurt.”

“That’s a pretty clear sign, wouldn’t you say?” Natasha took a sip of her tea as Anastasia nodded her head.

“How do I break up with her?” Anastasia’s huge hazel eyes turned to Natasha, begging for the guidance that her own mother would never grant her.

“The next time you see her, you tell her it’s over. Whatever she does after is none of your concern. If she’s stupid enough to blackmail you with something so serious she doesn’t deserve your sympathy.” Natasha reached her hand for Anastasia’s, covering it with her own to assure her that she wasn’t alone. “If she tries giving you any trouble, you know I’ve got your back. I’ll make sure she gets the message.”

“Okay…” Anastasia could barely get a word out, her throat squeezing harshly as she felt relief flush her from head to toe. “Thank you”, she whispered, her tears spilling. She wanted into Natasha’s embrace, she wanted Natasha to hug her the same way she always hugged you. She wanted a mother, a proper mother. But she was afraid of crossing a line with Natasha. Surely it was weird of her to be so affected by her best friend’s mother.

“Come on, darling. Just take a nice, big breath.” Natasha stood up from her stool, pulling on Anastasia’s hand gently to make her follow her. “Let’s find someplace more comfortable.” Natasha led them to the living room couch, gesturing for Anastasia to sit down on the soft cushions as she wiped her eyes in embarrassment. All it took was for Natasha to give Anastasia’s hand a gentle tug for Anastasia to fall right into Natasha’s embrace, her quiet sobs getting muffled into Natasha’s neck. “Shh, Nastja, it’s alright.” Anastasia sank into Natasha’s warmth, the ache in her body not soothed one bit by the firmness of Natasha’s arms around her. If anything, Anastasia’s pain was only aggravated by receiving the comfort she had been denied most of her life. Natasha’s hand found Anastasia’s platinum blonde hair, sinking into the messy locks to press her head tighter against Natasha’s neck. “I’ve got you”, Natasha hummed as her hands continued to soothe Anastasia’s shaky body.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” Anastasia shouldn’t have been such a baby. She shouldn’t have been pathetic enough to go crying to someone else’s mother. She pulled away hastily, her teary eyes looking down in shame. She was overstepping, being a burden. “I didn’t mean to- You’re probably tired.” Anastasia knew exactly how tired Natasha was because you had kept her up to date with your home life. Anastasia knew that Natasha had her plate full with the investigation and all the pain it brought her. The last thing Anastasia wanted to do was to add to the burden of it.

“I’m fine, darling. It’s more than okay. Everyone needs a hug sometimes”, Natasha whispered gently, rubbing her hands over Anastasia’s arms, offering her a sweet smile. Their gazes met briefly, Anastasia’s reddened eyes looking up at Natasha like she was a lifeline for her to hold on to, Natasha’s heart aching for the poor child that had been neglected for far too long. Natasha saw herself in Anastasia, saw her own pain reflected in the sixteen-year-old girl who was barely brave enough to reach for what she needed. “Why don’t you just lie down here, okay? I’ll sit with you, so you won’t have to be alone.” Natasha’s hand went for a blanket that sat on the back of the couch, her other hand prompting Anastasia to lie down.

“I don’t wanna bother- I- You don’t have to.” Anastasia was embarrassed. She was more than thoroughly embarrassed by her emotional state. She was embarrassed by her desires, by her need for maternal love and care. She was embarrassed that her own mother was no good. She was embarrassed that her own mother didn’t care enough, leaving her to look for someone else who could fill that black void of despair.

“I do have to —I want to”, Natasha assured Anastasia, guiding her head down on her lap before tucking her beneath the fluffy blanket. “Just cry it out, malyshka (baby). I’m right here.” Anastasia looked up at Natasha with her teary doe-eyes, her lower lip trembling violently at the empathetic pout on Natasha’s lips. Natasha brought her hand to Anastasia’s cheek, allowing her thumb to stroke the skin there soothingly. Anastasia closed her eyes, her hands coming up to hold onto Natasha’s forearm as if to ensure that she didn’t remove her hand from her cheek. Anastasia leaned the side of her head against Natasha’s lower abdomen, comforted by the presence of someone older, someone more capable than her, someone with authority, until her tears seized, and her consciousness started to teeter on the verge of sleep. Natasha sat there on the couch with her hand on Anastasia’s cheek even well after the girl had fallen asleep, making sure that Anastasia got what she needed before Natasha would leave an hour later to go check on you.

Chapter 56: Normal (2)

Chapter Text

The events of the night remained on loop in your head as you lay in bed, your eyes stinging even when closed. You were so far gone that you couldn’t pay attention to the noises coming from the kitchen and living room. You were so close to total exhaustion that you didn’t even blink your eyes open when Natasha took a peek into your room to make sure you weren’t choking on your own vomit. You wanted to kiss Salma, but you had kissed Eric instead. You missed Makena, yet the feeling was followed by anger and annoyance. Your drunk mind was not any more capable of solving the mess than your sober mind had been. You were helpless. You couldn’t seem to figure it all out on your own, in fact, you only seemed to be making it worse for not only yourself but everyone else as well. The next Monday at school was filled with apprehension on your part. You were scared to face the consequences of your actions. You would have to tell Eric that you had kissed him despite not possessing any romantic feelings for him. You would have to break his heart and it was all your fault. You would have to face Makena once more, your heart unable to take the constant, torturous contradiction you felt, and finally you would have to face Salma who you hoped and prayed didn’t remember the way you had looked at her. Your own memory of that specific moment was all too clear in your head which meant that it could only be assumed that Salma remembered it just as well, if not even better, since she hadn’t been as far gone as you had.

You stared at Makena in biology, deep, deep inside your own head. You knew you felt strongly for her, you always had. It was not a surprise by any means, but you had trouble pinpointing what exactly you felt. You stared at her, feeling utterly helpless and useless for not knowing what you wanted with her, what you had ever wanted with her. You knew you had loved her, but in what way?

“What?” Makena asked in genuine confusion after registering the look on your face. She seemed concerned, or maybe not exactly that, but intrigued by what was going on inside your head.

“Oh, um, nothing, I’m just… thinking.” You shook your head a bit to clear your thoughts, your eyes meeting Makena’s brown ones.

“What’s bothering you? I know that look.” Makena looked like she was about to give you a smile but thought better of it, in case you weren’t in an amicable mood, just like you hadn’t been for the past month or so.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s not… important.” You nearly dropped the pen you were playing with from the feeling you got. It was odd, like getting a whiff of an old memory.

“You seem troubled.”

“I’m not.” You uttered, focusing back on the worksheet in front of you.

“Y/N. You’re looking at me like I have two heads.” Her comment made you chuckle, a slight warmth finding your chest. With a two-faced liar like her, it was more than fitting.

“You have no idea”, you muttered, feeling a bit amused.

“Well, now you’ve gotta tell me.” She smirked at the look on your face. “I don’t wanna come off as entirely conceited but I feel like it’s about me.” You stared at each other for a moment, gauging each other’s moods and reactions.

“No… um, it’s about- uh… Alright, fine.” You rolled your eyes after realizing there was no saving the situation. “Why did you move here?”

“I told you: the building in Lenox hill.”

“Yeah, but why? Your house was perfectly fine. Why did you need to come here?” Your worksheet was completely forgotten and ignored as the conversations shifted even further away from it.

“I’m sensing that I’m not entirely welcome.”

“Oh, so you can take a hint.” Makena looked hurt, but your heart had grown just cold enough not to care. “How did you find out about my school?”

“Your school? What are you, eight?” She scoffed, clearly growing annoyed.

“Why did you come here?” You asked again, emphasizing each word for her.

“What, I’m not allowed to move to New York?” Her attitude was finally starting to match yours.

“No, you are, but why this school?” You frowned at her, wishing to finally get a proper explanation for the unpleasant intrusion into your life.

“I don’t know, mama chose it.” She shrugged, the gesture causing a flush of irritation to go through you.

“And where did she find it?” You were not giving up, not since the cat had finally been lifted out of the bag. This was your chance.

“Y/N, nobody cares. Have you never heard of coincidences?”

“I care. And if there’s one thing my mama taught me, it’s that there are no coincidences.” You glared at her, patiently waiting for her to explain herself, even though it looked like you were not going to get answers.

“Well, whatever the reason was, I don’t know it. I had no idea that you were gonna be here. If I had known, I would've asked to go to another one.” The look she paired with her words finally gave you some insight on how she felt. You weren’t the only one suffering. Makena didn’t seem all that happy about the situation either, although you weren’t sure why she had an issue with you when she had no reason for it.

“Glad to know the feeling is mutual.”

Great. What a jolly way to start your day. Next up you had an even more dreadful task at hand, your gaze searching for Eric in the hallway. The sea of students made it much harder for you to find him, but his height was thankfully of aid in the process. You spotted his disheveled hair from the crowd, weaving your way to him in the cacophony of chatter that the other kids produced.

“Eric!” Your throat squeezed shut, the exclamation coming out weak and shy. You weren’t ready at all, but you had to pay the price of your own actions.

“Y/N!” He lifted his hand in a greeting, immediately finding his way to you, a huge smile on his face. He really wasn’t so bad, he was almost endearing, but he was not for you, he could most likely never be, which scared you enough to make your legs numb.

“Hey.” You felt like throwing up, which had been a rather consistent theme since the night of the party on Friday. Your entire life made you nauseous. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” He looked hopeful. It crushed you to wipe away that smile of his.

“I’m…” You looked around, grasping his hand and pulling him toward a more vacant part of the hallway. “Look. I don’t really know how to say this, but… here goes.” You looked up at him apologetically, his frown anticipatory of the nature of the news you were delivering. “I was really drunk on Friday, and I shouldn’t have kissed you. I think I’m… I-” You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t even think it. “I don’t wanna give you the wrong idea.”

“Hey, no, don’t worry. You’re cool. It was so unexpected that I kind of figured.” He suddenly looked very sheepish. “I probably shouldn’t have kissed you.” Your brows shot up in mild surprise. “You were so drunk.”

"I was?” You knew you had been but for some reason you hadn’t expected him to notice it.

“Yeah, but it’s all good. You’ve got nice lips”, he said playfully, lightening the atmosphere a bit. “I’d recommend to a friend.” You laughed, the sound of it bringing a grin to his face.

“Thanks.” Your cheeks warmed from mild embarrassment, but you did feel relieved. He was taking it well. You had just avoided a potentially huge mess. “I’m sorry if I was weird or I- did anything- just, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Romanoff. I know.” He smiled at you for a long moment, his sparkly eyes remaining reverent.

“Thanks for being so understanding.”

“Of course. No hard feelings.” He was so kind, so kind indeed that you finally realized what Natasha had meant with her comment regarding his crush. You saw the way he looked at you, noticed the softened smile, the adoring eyes. He genuinely liked you, which made you feel even worse for what you had done, but all you could do was accept your errors. “Your mom still single?” He asked teasingly, bringing a wide grin to your lips.

“Yeah, good luck with that”, you chuckled, moving away from him as you waved goodbye, disappearing amongst the other students.

You met Salma before lunch. She yanked you into her embrace, seeming completely unfazed by what had happened on Friday night. You had been texting through the weekend and everything seemed normal. Neither of you had said a word about the weird tension between you, which had led you to believe that you had made it up in your head. It suited you just fine. You would rather have imagined it than jeopardize your friendship with Salma. You liked her all too much to lose her. Your eyes met and you knew that second that you hadn’t imagined it. Your stomach dropped harshly, that soft smile on her face making your erratic heart gallop like a wild horse. You felt so flustered, your eyes dropping down to her lips for a split second before you realized not to repeat your mistakes from Friday. You weren’t supposed to want anything of that sort.

“I missed you”, she hummed playfully, gauging your reaction, hoping that you had missed her just the same.

“I missed you too.” Your voice was breathy. Why did you suddenly feel like you couldn’t quite breathe correctly? You chuckled softly to rid yourself of the nerves that plagued your poor stomach. You looked into her dark eyes, captivated by their depth, her long, black lashes framing the richness of her irises in a way that left you truly speechless.

“I wish dad hadn’t taken us to Scarsdale, I could’ve come over on Saturday. You seemed a bit off at the party.” She was worried, her hand nearly cupping your cheek, but she thought better of it, intimidated by the caring act and its implications.

“It’s okay, I managed alright.” You laughed softly. “I just had too much to drink. I was okay.”

“Good. I would’ve taken care of you though.” You couldn’t help the shy smile that found your face as warmth spread down your arms and thighs at the thought.

“Yeah?” You gave her a small smirk, deciding to just test it out, see what it could give you. “What would you have done?” She seemed pleased by your response, her smile widening.

“I would’ve gotten you an ice-cold glass of water, painkillers, and a blanket.”

“That all?” Salma seemed slightly surprised by your jovial tone, unsure whether she would dare to take it further. “What about my cuddles? I was all sad and in pain.”

“Oh, right, of course. I would’ve cuddled you all night long.” She had a shy look on her face as she grabbed a lunch tray and directed her attention toward the food. Your abdomen fluttered harshly with butterflies as you thought of her arms around you, the scent of a warm summer’s evening enveloping you into its embrace. Your stomach lurched, an odd, burning heat rising up to your cheeks. “And then, naturally, I would’ve brought you breakfast in bed.”

“Ah, you’re treating me so well”, you chuckled, grabbing a tray for yourself as well.

“You deserve the best.” Her words made you pause. You deserved nothing, and the previous weekend had been a perfect example of that. You gave her a sorrowful smile.

“I don’t.” Salma paused immediately.

“Yes, you do. You, if anyone, deserves it.” She stopped what she was doing, casting you a firm look. Should you tell her about the kiss? Did it even mean anything to anyone? You felt the need to tell her but you didn’t know why. After that she would know that you didn’t deserve the best; you deserved nothing at all. It wasn’t like it mattered to her anyway. You were just friends…

“I kissed Eric… at the party.” Salma stilled completely, looking at you helplessly as if wishing that you were joking. You knew that there was something more between you, both of you did, but neither of you knew what to do about it.

“How was it?” Salma swallowed thickly, focusing back on the food available.

“I don’t like- I didn’t like it.” The words tumbled out of your mouth hastily, wishing to prevent Salma from jumping into conclusions. “I-I don’t know why I did it.” Your heart hacked in your chest, throat squeezing shut from how nervous you were.

“He didn’t…?” Salma’s worried eyes finished the question for her.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that.” You shook your head in emphasis, letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing”, you admitted quietly.

“If you needed to practice kissing you could’ve just come to me”, Salma chuckled, steering the atmosphere of the conversation toward a more lighthearted direction. You cracked a smile, but it was merely superficial. Practice was the last thing you needed. You wanted the real thing, not to be used like you had been before.

“I bet you would have been the smarter choice.” Your smile turned a bit more genuine, your hands gathering all your desired food onto your tray. Despite your camaraderie, you could sense that there was an awkwardness between you and Salma. She was clearly upset by the news of you and Eric, but she was doing her best not to show it. The entire situation only upset you further. You wanted to reassure Salma of the fact that you didn’t care about Eric, but you had no words for it. You didn’t know what you wanted to say because you didn’t understand what was between you and Salma. It wasn’t just a friendship, it couldn’t be. The intensity of your emotions toward each other was something that didn’t occur with the rest of your friends. They didn’t feel the same as Salma did. They didn’t get your insides all twisted up or make your heart race irrationally. They didn’t make you blush or fantasize about being the sole focus of their attention. It was all very specific to Salma.

You left the school even more upset than you had entered it, hurrying straight to home. You needed to be alone, you needed to sort things out in your head before being able to step back into the real world and face the public again. You were irritable and annoyed as you got off the sub, the flood of people testing your patience whether it was through their irrationally slow walking pace or their unreasonably large suitcases. You wanted to kick every pedestrian in the shins to make way for yourself, but you thought better of it, resorting to gnawing on your bottom lip to bite back your anger. Upon entering your home, you hear a gentle giggle, Natasha’s giggle, a sound you hadn’t heard in what felt like weeks. The abnormal occurrence pulled you right out of your head as you took off your headphones to hear it better, the sound followed by another laugh, this time someone else’s. You toed off your shoes and walked into the living room, your eyes landing on Natasha and Maria on the couch, the coffee table completely covered by files.

“Hey, darling. How was school?” Natasha sounded a bit more jovial than she had in the past few days. She even smiled at you.

“It was school.” You huffed, eyeing Maria rather intently, your gaze drifting to the ongoing investigation on the table. You knew Maria was there to help Natasha with it. There was no doubt about it.

“We ordered some Thai food. There’s plenty left for you”, Maria offered kindly, the smile that you tried to give her never quite reaching your eyes. Maria shouldn’t have been encouraging your mother to keep up with the investigation. Maria should have made her quit altogether since she seemed to hold more authority over Natasha than you did.

“You can join us if you want, but please make sure you eat before practice, okay?” Natasha reached for her drink, drawing attention to the plates of food that sat on the table on top of the papers. Natasha’s caring tone wore you down immediately, your resentment toward Maria easing up a bit. You couldn’t truly resent her when she had managed to bring a proper smile on Natasha’s face.

“We got Pad Thai, shrimp soup, and red curry”, Maria informed, picking up some noodles off her plate with a pair of chopsticks.

“Thanks, but I’ve got homework.” Your tone was cool, your answer curt, Natasha’s brow quirking up in mild surprise from your attitude that seemed to be signaling Maria that you were not to be messed with. There was an air of protective hostility around you as if you were wishing to let Maria know that she was in your territory, but at the same time it seemed rather absurd to Natasha, which is why she let the observation slide. You went straight to your room, deciding to get as much of your homework out of the way as possible before getting ready for practice. You didn’t put your headphones back ok, nosy as you were, listening to the chatter from the living room, not quite staying on track about what they were discussing but what you did hear was the laughter. They were laughing, both of them, just laughing.

Despite your initial annoyance and exhaustion that you experienced at the thought of going to practice, it proved to be more necessary than you realized. Intense activity helped you release all the stress and anger of the day, your physical extortion allowing you to think straighter than you had all day. It cleared up your head and made you feel good physically, but with that also came more energy to focus on what was bothering you. The burden of the day followed you all the way to bed and beneath the warmth of your covers. You stared at your dark ceiling, your hands resting over your stomach as you tried to focus on the rhythm of your breathing. You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was far too active to let you rest for even a second. It was pointless, all of it, or at least you wished it had been, but deep down you knew you weren’t mulling it in your head without a reason. You knew that you were closer to cracking the code than you had ever been. You were closer to the truth than you were willing to admit to yourself. It was a matter of honesty, but time and time again you denied yourself the freedom to accept yourself. You refused to allow yourself the room that you needed because you weren’t equipped to handle reality. You spent the whole night battling with the same questions of how your life was going to change, how people were going to change, how your status was going to change. You couldn’t make a decision so grave despite knowing deep down that there was no decision to make. You were what you were regardless of what you wanted to be.

After the third sleepless night that you spend staring at your ceiling, you finally cracked. It was well past midnight, your head already throbbing from the lack of sleep that week. You tossed and you turned in bed, not able to find a comfortable position to lie in. Your mind was racing so fast you couldn’t really process anything. Salma. You weren’t sure what to think. You felt your belly flutter just at the thought of her, causing you to groan in frustration as you aggressively buried your face into your pillow. What did that mean? What did the insane, scorching heat in your body mean? You kicked off your covers, your cheeks burning up when you remembered what Salma had said about practicing kissing. You couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the thought, the image in your head sending a jolt of electricity straight down south. Maybe… no. Could you really be? f*ck, it was all so messy in your head. You glanced at your phone on the nightstand, checking the time. With a heavy sigh you climbed out of your bed, tiptoeing to the door of your room and sliding it open. You made your way into the kitchen, downing a tall glass of cold water in the hopes of calming down your mind. Then you continued your journey to the closed door of your mother’s bedroom, turning the knob as quietly as possible to sneak inside. She was fast asleep under the covers, laying on her stomach. After creeping to her side, you pulled up her duvet, sliding silently beneath it, Natasha immediately starting to stir. She turned around, not even opening her eyes as she pulled you into her embrace, more than accustomed to your company no matter how long it had been since the last time you had invaded her bed. You did your very best to keep your tears at bay, but you couldn’t help the sniffle that escaped. The comfort lulled you into a state of safety so intense you simply broke down, tears spilling over. Natasha’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, her fingers sinking into your hair, nails scratching over your scalp gently as you sobbed.

“Nightmare?” She asked in a hushed tone, her hoarse voice rumbling softly in the silence of the night. You shook your head, unable to speak. “What’s wrong, dorogaya (darling)?”

“Can’t sleep”, you whimpered, moving your hand a bit to wipe the snot from under your nose. You took a deep breath, reigning in your emotions, already feeling a bit of relief from not having to be alone. “I don’t know what I’m feeling or what’s going on”, you explained, your voice much more even than before once the worst of your sobbing had subsided.

“Is there something specific on your mind?” She prompted, her hands continuing to soothe your body.

“I’m not sure how to say it or how you’re gonna react… if you’re gonna look at me differently.” Your voice was so small that it made Natasha’s heart ache. She had no clue what you might reveal but she knew exactly what her next words were going to be.

“Myshka (little mouse), there’s absolutely nothing you could say that would make me treat you differently. You could say that you like eating garbage at dinner for all I care. I’ve met a talking raccoon before, no biggie”, she chuckled, caressing your cheek in a mild gesture of comfort. You laughed at her joke, sniffling again. “You know I love you no matter what”, she added, a momentary silence falling over you as you thought of what to say.

“I think I like girls”, you whispered, letting the admission hang in the air that suddenly felt thick to you.

“You think so?” Natasha asked casually, her lips pressing to your forehead. Somehow you felt calm again. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to make your mind function again because nothing insane had happened. She just kept up her normal conversational tone, albeit it was a bit softer and more comforting.

“Yeah”, you hummed, nodding.

“Is there someone?” She mumbled into your hair, her hands never easing off from the hug. She knew the answer already. She knew it all, but she let you take your time with it.

“Salma. I don’t know, I- I just feel this pull. I think I’d want to kiss her”, you explained, trying to properly voice out your thoughts. “I’m not sure. I feel like it could be fun”, you scoffed in mild amusem*nt, feeling a little silly for talking to your mother about kissing.

“I like kissing girls, well, women”, Natasha noted, a small grin on her face.

“Yeah?” You pulled back from her so you would be able to see her face, or whatever you could see of it in the dark. “You’re a lesbian.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a realization, all the pieces suddenly clicking together rather perfectly. You’d never thought about it like that before, which sounded very dumb in hindsight, but it was true. It had never really crossed your mind. Your mother was just your mother, and you had stupidly assumed that she would eventually be paired with a father.

“Baby, I would’ve thought I raised you to be a little more observant”, she chuckled, her index finger smoothing down the bridge of your nose, your eyes immediately fluttering shut at the feeling. The effect was almost magical. You snuggled into her embrace, mumbling quietly.

“I guess lesbians are cool.”

“Perfect, I’m a cool mom”, Natasha cheered jokingly, earning a scoff from you.

“Don’t push it any further. You’re gonna lose cool-points”, you warned her, sighing deeply when you felt her fingertips sink into your hair to scratch your scalp.

“I should put you on baby-points because it’s not fair we’re only tracking my coolness”, Natasha whined playfully.

“We’re not tracking mine cause you’re such a cheesy fool you’d give me an infinite amount from a single hug.” Natasha laughed quietly. You were right.

“You just lost a point for that”, she noted. “Be careful, those hugs seem to be getting increasingly rarer.” You felt a bit bad for that and so you squished yourself as close as possible, holding her a little tighter.

“Infinity of baby-points granted”, Natasha whispered, her hand cupping the back of your head. “Now, tell me about your lesbian troubles.” You chuckled a bit awkwardly but decided to explain yourself despite the apprehension you felt. You relaxed into her embrace, going back to the very start.

“Makena and I kissed once when we were eleven.” You didn’t know where you were going with your confessions, but you kept going, explaining the situation to Natasha, never skimping on details. You told her that it had been Makena’s idea and that you hadn’t really realized that it could mean something. “I thought it was just something girls did sometimes. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

“But it did to you”, Natasha hummed quietly, completely on track with your story.

“Yeah, it did. She was my first kiss.” Natasha brushed her fingers over the side of your head before cupping your cheek.

“Do you think that’s why seeing Makena now is so hard? Because you had feelings for her?” Natasha was finally able to say it, to properly make you see the whole picture.

“I think so…. I just wanted her to see me.” The thought of Makena only encouraged your tear ducts to stay open, the trickles of wetness making your skin itch.

“I know baby, I know.”

“I never meant to her as much as she meant to me. And I never will”, you sobbed quietly, wiggling your hand up to your face to wipe your tears. “She’ll never see me like that. She’d never want me like that… not that she wanted me at all.”

“Shh, that doesn’t mean that it was always like that. You were best friends for a reason. She didn’t fake all of that since primary school”, Natasha reasoned gently, petting your arm to comfort you.

“Why couldn’t I mean more to her?” Natasha shut her eyes, her mouth curving into an empathetic pout.

“Sometimes that’s how things go, my love. Not everyone is going to be a match made in heaven.”

“I don’t get why I’m still so hung up on her. I’m sick of it. I shouldn’t care anymore. It’s over, but then… then seeing her face every day, seeing-seeing her eyes, hearing her voice… Mama, I miss her.” It felt good to admit it after all the time you had spent on denying any feelings of the sort. You missed Makena. You missed your friendship. You missed the possibility of something more with her.

“I don’t think you’ve quite processed it all yet. Just realizing that you had romantic feelings for her is a huge step forward. Now you can start thinking about the situation in a different way and hopefully it’ll help you move on.” You burst into sobs again.

“Why can’t she want me, love me? Why not me? W-why some stupid guy who’s never going to treat her right?” You felt sick. You just wanted to be normal, to be one of those people who got the girl, not the one who got sidelined for being abnormal.

“Because that’s not what she’s into, sweetheart. She likes guys and that’s that. There’s nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can do is find someone who does like girls as much as you do.” She kissed the side of your head. “There’s no use in focusing on what you can’t have. Believe me, I know.”

“Serafima?” You asked almost timidly, feeling Natasha nod her head.

“She could’ve never been mine, not even if all the pigs from every farm in Russia started flying.” You chuckled quietly despite the grim topic you were discussing. “You’ll just have to make peace with it. There’s no other way.”

“I know. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

“Me too, kroshka (little one).”

“Did you ever wish you weren’t one? You know, a lesbian?” You felt awkward for using the term. It felt unnatural on your tongue.

“Yes, many times. Russia has never been the most welcoming toward gays. It’s a grim place for a lesbian. Some of the girls in the Red Room called it a disease. They didn’t know about me, but there were other girls who got ridiculed and demeaned for what they liked.” You didn’t know if her honesty was gladly appreciated or if you would have wanted her to soften the blow. It felt overwhelming to realize that not everybody was going to accept you as you were.

“I’m sorry. That sounds horrible.”

“It was. Why do you ask?” She had a feeling that she knew why, but she wanted you to lead the discussion.

“I don’t know if I want to be one”, you admitted, biting your lip absentmindedly.

“How so?” She inquired, noting the change of tone in your voice.

“Well first of all, what you just said isn’t exactly encouraging, and secondly, everyone else just talks about boys”, you sighed in disappointment. “But I just don’t like them. I don’t get it. I don’t understand what’s so interesting”, you groaned, Natasha frowning softly in empathy. “No one at school is like me. I’m a total freak”, you mumbled angrily.

“Nastja is like you. Salma is like you”, Natasha countered immediately, wishing to bring forward what you were disregarding.

“Yeah, sure, but they never really talk about that stuff because everyone else is straight and they get all the room in the world to talk about their crushes.” You grew bitter at the mere thought. “They don’t notice that they do it, but whenever Annie brings up a cute girl, even just casually, people get a little awkward and uncomfortable. I can tell. I see it.”

“Then you’ll have to make room for it. You’re allowed to take space”, she reminded you gently. You took in a ragged breath.

“I just wanna be normal.” You had to tell her about Eric. It was weighing down on your conscience and you could never truly let go of the incident before you had discussed it with your mother.

“You are normal. You’re perfectly normal.”

“I’ve never been, and you know that better than anyone else”, you countered immediately. Natasha remained quiet for a moment, a small smile taking over her features.

“Don’t I know it”, she muttered to herself. “You’re right. You’re not normal, and you can never be because you’re an extraordinary girl. You’re the most special girl in the world.”

“Mama”, you groaned in annoyance, but you felt the corners of your mouth tug up into a smile. She kissed your face repeatedly. “I tried being normal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I kissed Eric.” You let out a deep sigh, releasing yourself of the shackles of that very specific sin. “I was drunk and I… freaked out. I thought I could convince myself to like him because I knew he liked me.”

“Oh, baby… That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah, apparently not.” You sniffled softly, pushing back your tears. “I think I really hurt him. He seemed fine, but… I just feel so guilty.”

“Did you explain it to him and apologize?”

“I did.” You nodded curtly to emphasize your words.

“Good. You did the right thing there. It’ll be alright.” Her hand slid to your back to stroke it. “You don’t need to like a boy. You’ll never have to like a single boy in your life if that’s what your feelings tell you. It’s not for everyone. It certainly isn’t for me, I’ll tell you that.”

“So, you’ve never liked a man?”

“No, and I never will”, she said firmly.

“And that doesn’t bother you?” It seemed a bit absurd to you. You had been so wrapped up in heteronormativity that you hadn’t even considered that there truly were people who didn’t care about the male species.

“Oh, baby, it’s a relief”, Natasha chuckled.

“What makes you say that?”

“Women love differently. They’re soft, gentle, caring. They notice things, they pay attention. The intensity of their feelings is unmatched. Just knowing that I will never have to force myself into being something I’m not is enough of a relief.” Natasha was determined to make you accept yourself the way you were. She wanted you to see the best parts about who you were instead of focusing on what you couldn’t be. “That kind of love is the most beautiful thing out there. But that isn’t to say that you can’t like boys. It’s perfectly fine if you do. I just don’t want you to force yourself into being something that you’re not.” You nodded your head against her chest. “You’re never going to find what you’re looking for if you’re looking for it in the wrong places.”

“I know, it’s just really… hard. I don’t even know…”

“I get it, honey. I know it’s hard, but I’ll be right here to back you up every step of the way as you figure it out.”

“I don’t know what to do about it”, you admitted. You weren’t sure what you liked because you had no experience. You felt rather inadequate to even discuss your sexuality when nothing sexual had even happened to you.

“Well, for starters, why don’t you ask Salma out?”

“Like on a date?” You yawned heavily, your eyes damp from the effort behind your yawn.

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Go get ice cream or something, just the two of you.” You really liked the idea.

“Where should I take her? Maybe something better than Baskin-Robbins.”

“You could take her to the Big Gay ice cream shop in Madison Square Garden.” You could hear the amusem*nt dripping from her voice.

“Mom”, you whined in annoyance, shoving her slightly to make her stop teasing you. “I’m not doing that. It’s so obvious.”

“But good ice cream.” She nodded her head.

“She would never wanna see me again.” You yawned, hugging her a little tighter to get more comfortable in her embrace as sleep started to weigh down on you.

“She would do anything to see you again”, Natasha whispered, brushing your hair aside to uncover your ear. “Take her to Bambina Blue. That’s a nicer place. Do you know if she’s been there?”

“We might have gone there once if I remember correctly. It’s on Cleveland Place, right?”

“Yes. We went there when we moved to the city.”

“Oh, no. I remember we were meant to go but it started raining and we decided to get cake instead.”

“Well, there you go.” She sounded happy, almost proud.

“I’ll try. But… what if I’m getting it all wrong and it’s not like that. Cause we’ve just been friends.” Natasha swallowed her chuckle, combing her fingers over your hair.

“You’re far from friends”, she whispered in amusem*nt, kissing the side of your head. “Trust me on that one.”

“How do you know?”

“I see things from another perspective. I see the adoring looks and hear the shy comments. That’s not what friends do.

“What, are you saying that it’s obvious?” You surely had never thought that you even resembled anything lesbian.

“To me it is.” Natasha had noticed it years ago. She had seen the signs from your objects of interest, from the way you behaved with your friends, from the insight on your perspective on life that your child-self had had no trouble spilling. She had witnessed it all.

“Like from what? What, do you have some impeccable gaydar?” You chuckled at your own comment.

“From the way you are. I’m just observant. I recognize my own people. Although I must admit that I do have impeccable gaydar.” Natasha chuckled just the same. “I remember this one time you and Makena were playing. It was ages ago. And you were fighting about who got to be mommy when playing house.” You listened intently, unsure of where she was going with it. “You suggested that you could both be mommies, told her that you didn’t need a daddy.” You felt yourself blush. How silly. “Then Makena told you that women don’t kiss like that, and all you said was: yes, they do.”

“Wow, that didn’t leave much room for doubt, now did it?” You shook your head in disbelief. You had no recollection of such an incident.

“No, it didn’t, darling.” Natasha laughed quietly, rubbing your back comfortingly. You both stayed quiet for a moment until Natasha spoke again. “This changes nothing, Y/N. There’s no choice to be made, there’s no battle to fight. You are who you’ve always been.” You nodded your head softly, the exhaustion that your overthinking mind brought down on you finally starting to gain the upper hand. “I love you just the same.” Your chest felt significantly lighter, a weak breath escaping you as a wave of calmness washed over you. Natasha hugged you tighter for a moment before relaxing beside you as you both remained silent, reveling in the peace and relief that followed your confession. You felt accepted and maybe even a little more secure in your identity. Natasha waited for you to fall asleep. She wanted to make sure you didn’t stay up alone all night, so she waited. Waited until your breath evened out, until you were completely limp in her arms. She kissed you good night and eventually drifted back to sleep herself.