Chapter Text
Naples, Italy
“I thought we agreed to no working,” you jumped at the sudden appearance of your wife. She stood in the doorway, hip cocked out, arms crossed her chest, and a playful smirk on her face. She was wearing a satin nightgown. The girls must have finally settled down for the night. The warm Italian breeze blew through her hair. Gods, she was beautiful.
“I uh I’m not working,” Natasha hummed. “I swear,” her bare feet walked over to you, and she leaned behind you. Her arms wrapped around your neck, and her chin rested on your shoulder to look at your laptop screen. “See, not work just an email from Maria.”
The email in question was a photo of Anna being reunited with her mom and 2 siblings. Thankfully, they weren’t killed in the raid against the camp. “That’s the little girl Clint sent me a picture of,” you nodded.
“Her name is Anna,” you told Natasha. “She was,” you sighed. “Part of the girls taken to the Red Room from the camp invasion.” You felt your wife’s arms tense up.
“We have not talked about what happened,” you said, closing the laptop and putting your hands on her arms. You’ve talked about what occurred in your final report to Fury, the mandated therapist you were forced to see, and over beers with Maria and Clint. But not Natasha.
Life seemed to keep moving. Once you were officially done, you packed up the girls and headed on a vacation across Europe. The events of the Red Room happened three months ago. “Do you want to talk about it?” You asked. This wasn’t just your trauma; it was your wife’s too. Dreykov and that fucking school stole years of her childhood.
“I do not know,” it was rare you heard her voice slip into a Russian accent. It happened on a few occasions. If she was really drunk and drinking with Yelena or Alexei, or after a nightmare. The entire time you were together, her nightmares only woke you up twice.
“Okay,” you tapped her arm. “Let’s head to bed.” But Natasha kept her arms on you. She allowed you to turn around and pulled her onto your lap. You held her tight - happy in the feeling of her weight on you. Her lips started to kiss your neck - slow and soft. You allowed her to continue before twisting your hand in her hair so you could be face-to-face. “I love you,” you whispered against her lips. “Love you so fucking much.”
“Kiss me,” she pleaded. “Please.” Who were you to deny her such a request? The kiss was slow. You savored the taste of her. Captured the little sighs and noises that escaped past her lips. Her hips began to grind against you.
“Easy,” you mumbled. You pulled back and looked at her. Even under the moonlight, you saw how flushed her skin was. The deep inhales and exhales she let out. “Are you sure?” You asked. “Do you want this?” For 3 months, you or she hadn’t done anything past heavy make-out sessions. You were both too scared to cross that line.
“Yes,” she said, a little out of breath. “Missed you so much.” Her fingers danced around your collar bones, then the side of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine. You weren’t ashamed of the goosebumps that formed. Natasha smirked. “So sensitive,” she teased and slipped her hands underneath your shirt. Her nails ran down your abs. Instinctively, your hips jerked forward. “Missed your touch. Your lips.” Her lips barely brushed against yours, and you chased after them. “You making me cum.”
Your resolve snapped in half like a tree branch. Rushing forward, you pressed your lips against hers. The kiss was messy and frantic. As quick as you kissed her, you deepened it and slipped your tongue inside her mouth. Natasha melted against you. As if she weighed nothing, you lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around your waist. But you didn’t go far. Instead, you pushed her against the wall right next to the door. Your lips traveled down the column of her throat.
“Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” you mumbled against her skin. “You gonna let me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.” Like they said, happy wife, happy life.
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Honestly, you weren’t sure what woke you up. You always ran warm, so it would have been that. Maybe you needed to pee. As your eyes fluttered open, you saw what pulled you out of your deep slumber. Natasha. Your wife was on her back, twisting against the sheets, and her hands curled into fists. Quiet whimpers escaped past her lips. Her fact was contracted in pain. All the telltale signs of a nightmare. You were half awake when it happened. One moment you were staring down at her, then she was on top of you. In a different scenario, you would be thrilled to have your wife on top of you, but not like this.
Her fist twisted in your shirt and slammed your back against the bed. “Get away!” She snarled. “Get away from me!” She wasn’t seeing you. She was seeing something that was shaking her with anger.
“It’s me,” you whispered. Her fist came up. You refused to fight her because you knew this wasn’t her. But you had to protect yourself because if she hurt you, then she could become the thing she feared.
You caught her by the wrist. “Look at me,” you said. “You’re here. You’re safe.” You saw the moment she came back to you, and you released the hold of her wrist. Natasha gasped for air, eyes darting around the room in panic until they landed on you. “That’s it, baby,” you cooed. “You’re safe. He’s dead.” Tentatively, you sat up and ran your hands up her arms. She was clammy, and a thin layer of sweat was on her skin. “I got you.” When your hands settled on her back, she crumbled. The sob she let out broke your heart as you cradled her against your chest. You held her while she cried and broke down, which seemed to be a long time coming. Your hands traced up and down her back, trying your best to help her calm down.
Seeing Natasha break down was so rare. She held onto her pain and rarely showed it. Each cry, sob, and gasp for air felt like a stab wound. You closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying too. “He-he got you,” she began unprompted. “He was back and got you and the girls, and I couldn’t stop him. I was too fucking weak again.”
You weren’t going to stand for that slander. Carefully, you pulled her face off your shoulder so she looked down at her. Tear stains, blotchy cheeks, and a runny nose - she was still the most beautiful woman to you. “I will not let you call yourself weak,” you began. “You are the strongest person I know because you got out and beat him. And that haunted him till the day he died,” you pushed some of her strands of hair behind her ear. “You are so strong, my love. You are my strength.”
Your monologue was meant with silence. You glanced at the clock on the side table, 0315. Perfect time for a bath. “Hold onto me,” she yelped as you got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. You fumbled with the lights, turning them on but keeping them dim. You managed to put a towel on the sink counter and sat Natasha on top of it. “I’m gonna start a bath for us. Can you let me go for a moment?” It was a 50-50 shot if she would. Soon her grip on you loosened, and you were able to pull away. “Thank you, baby.”
Quickly, you rushed to the tub, plugged the drain, and began to fill it with water. You felt her eyes on you throughout the entire process. When the tub was filled halfway, you added body wash for some. You glanced at Natasha as you waited. She looked so small, vulnerable, and terrified. You would do anything to keep her safe. Once the tub was filled, you turned off the water and walked back over to your wife. “Hold on tight,” this time, no noise of surprise left the redhead as you picked her up and helped her into the water. You were quick to join her, and the warm water released the tension you were holding. But this wasn’t about you.
Without a word, you put extra body wash in the palm of your hands and washed the sweat of the nightmare from Natasha’s body. The air smelled of eucalyptus and spearmint. “You can ask,” she said, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve been dying too.”
There were many questions you wanted to ask.
Why me? Why did you choose me out of all the men and women who flirted with you at the gym?
Why did you stay? After the first deployment and the uncertainty of it all, do you regret staying when you had the chance to walk away?
But those questions were for another night. Instead, you sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Red Room? About him? I could have listened and believed every word you said.”
“I know,” she whispered. “And I think that would have made it worse.” Her hands glided across the water as bubbles rested on the back. She blew them back into the water. “Melina swore us to secrecy. Even when I begged to be able to tell you, and you know I don’t beg for anything from that woman,” you chuckled against her shoulder and kissed the spot. “It’s why she hated you. She thought your job would uncover the truth of our past. Yelena was too young to really understand what we did for him, but you felt the sharp intake of breath. “My hands are covered in blood.” You grabbed her hands from underneath the water and interlocked your fingers. Gently, you rested them on your stomach.
“Before you. Before the girls,” she continued. “The Red Room was all I knew.”
“Until Melina and Alexei got you out,” you questioned. She nodded.
“Dreykov needed Widows to pretend to be an American family in Ohio,” she explained. You squeezed her hands to know you were listening. “I was assigned to it as well as Yelena to be my younger sister, and Alexei and Melina pretended to be our parents. For 3 years,” her voice broke. “We pretended to be a family, but it became real to me.” She took a moment to collect herself. “When the mission was over, I thought they were going to bring us back to him, but they didn’t. We were on the run for a while until we thought we ended it in Budapest.”
Budapest. You remembered Fury talking about the city with Peggy. You heard it in passing while you were wrapping everything up. “We had no reason to believe he was alive. We thought it was over.” Oh, how wrong they were. You wondered if your in-laws felt any guilt. Natasha leaned further into you as if the weight of her secret finally being told allowed her to relax. “Ask your other question.” It was annoying how well she knew you. Huffing, you kissed her shoulder again.
“How did you know I killed him?” You asked. It was the first thing she said to you when you woke up.
“Melina,” Natasha sighed. “When they brought his body in, they needed her to identify his body. Danvers told her it was you who shot him. But you didn’t just shoot him once,” Carefully, she turned around. Your legs moved together, so she sat on your lap. Her chest pressed against yours. “You desecrated him,” this time she must have felt the hitch in your breath. “Why?” She questioned.
Your hands went to her hips. Her hips were your second favorite part of her body. They fit in your hands perfectly. You could move her easily. “I was going to burn that place to the ground even before I learned you were part of his circus. When I saw you, your picture on that fucking wall, I saw red.” Her fingers played with the hair on the back of your neck. You cut it short after your retirement.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Natasha whispered. You couldn’t look at her. Her green eyes were your favorite thing about her. Her eyes brought you a sense of peace. They were like a deep green Forest where you could wander forever. You lost yourself when you stared into her eyes. They unraveled you and built you back up. But Natasha wasn’t having any of that. Gently, she used her left hand to force you to look at her.
“I didn’t want you to see how dark I can become,” you whispered. “I never want you to see that.” A small smile crossed her face, and she chuckled softly.
“I guess we are both a little fucked up,” you shook your head with a laugh and slowly hugged her. She went easily, molding her body against yours.
“I would do anything for you,” you kissed her temple.
“I know as would I.”
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Paris, France
“So where are you now?” Maria asked. “It’s like I’m playing Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego.” You chuckled. Your phone was on speaker, resting on the bathroom sink while you got ready for the day.
“France,” you told her. “Melina and Alexei got in last night. The girls were really excited to see them.” You fixed your hair before grabbing your phone to sit on the bench in front of the bed.
“I’m sorry to-,”
“Ria,” you cut her off before she could continue. “I told you to call me whenever you need something.” Although you were retired, you’ve kept a close eye on the dismantling of Drekyov’s network of Widows. Maria was leading the charge with the help of the cyber team. The device you collected from him helped, but it seemed that for every girl they saved, 50 more needed rescuing. They all needed medical care, psychological support, and a place to live before they were placed with a permanent family.
“Do you remember Mila?” How could you forget the little girl who reminded you so much of your sister-in-law? How could you forget the girl who got you out?
“Of course,” you said and grabbed your shoes to continue this conversation on the balcony. It overlooked the city, and you could see the Eiffel tower. “Is she okay?”
“Technically, yes,” your friend sighed. “We placed her with a temporary foster family. Not sure the full story, but she attacked the older brother, broke his wrist and nose.” Shit. Well, that wasn’t good. “She’s back at headquarters in one of the rooms, but she’s not talking and barely eating.” You sighed.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Talk to her when you come home. I’ve tried, but she won’t talk to me. She needs help, and I think you can help her,” you slumped back in the chair, hand resting on your forehead. “I know I’m asking a lot, but I’m not saying you need to adopt her, just talk to her.”
Gods, you wanted to, but it was so complicated with your family’s deep connection with that awful place. Yes, it would be helping Mila, but it could also open your family to more trauma. “I’ll see what I can do,” you sighed.
“Thank you. Eat a chocolate croissant for me.” You chuckled.
“Bye, Ria,” you hung up and placed your phone on the small table. Before you left for Europe, you and Maria went to a bar. You sat at a booth in the back corner and talked over cheap beer and fries that the waitress kept refilling. To this day, you think she had the hots for your friend. That night, you talked about your time at that fucking school, and the nightmares you’ve both had.
Maria confessed she woke up screaming, and not even Carol could calm her down. She hated herself for hurting you. You weren’t angry at her, even though that moment infested your dreams as well. But your nightmares consisted of you failing to save those girls, failing to get Maria out, and failing to kill that monster, which resulted in your family being brought back to him.
At the end of the night, Natasha had to pick you up because you were too drunk to drive home. In your drunken haze, you told Maria to call you whenever she needed help with finding a home for these girls. Fury put her on the project because he didn’t trust anyone else and wanted her out of the field a little longer.
Now you were conflicted. On one hand, you did not want to fail Mila or the other victims. But on the other hand, you weren’t sure if you were ready to reopen these wounds that were still healing. “Sweetheart,” you stood up to the sound of Natasha’s voice and met her in the bedroom. “Are you okay?” She asked, frowning.
“Yeah,” she gave you a pointed look, and you hated lying to her. Sighing, you closed the distance and easily brought her into a hug. It was amazing how easily your worries melted away when she was in your arms. “Maria called me,” you said. “About one of the girls, and it just brought me back there.” You kissed the side of her head. Natasha looked up at you.
“Do you wanna stay at the hotel? I can send my parents to explore with the girls.” You immediately shook your head.
“No, I think it will be good to be with everyone.” Natasha smiled and nodded her head.
“Hey,” she gently took your chin in your hand. “You don’t have to be the hero anymore. You can’t save everyone.”
“I know, Nat,” she kissed you softly. You knew better than anyone. Time and time again, you saw innocent lives killed because you weren’t fast enough. You did not want to add Mila to that list.
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“Well, if you are down here and drinking alone, something must be wrong.” You chuckled at your mother-in-law before taking a slow sip of the whiskey from your glass. Melina rounded the corner of the kitchen island to grab herself a glass. “Why are you up?” She asked, filling her glass with the dark amber.
“The girls came into our room,” you told her. “They woke me up, and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” For the past months, at least twice a week, the twins would find their way into your bed between you and Natasha.
“They missed you. They were terrified when you were gone.”
“I know,” you mumbled and took another slow sip. You were very aware of how much your kidnapping affected your girls. On nights you couldn’t sleep, you wandered the house and heard their night names.
Slowly, you lifted your gaze at the woman in front of you. It was something that kept you up at night. How was it possible for this woman to work with such a man? Although it took a while for you and her to see eye to eye, she was always warm and loving with your girls.
Even your father-in-law was a bear of a man who sometimes forgot how hard he could punch, but he always read bedtime stories to Rose and Hailey until they fell asleep. “You are staring,” she deadpanned. “I do believe you, and I am happily married.” You chuckled at her statement as you saw the corners of her lips turn up into a smile. “What are you looking at?”
“Just trying to picture it,” you told her. “You and Alexei working for him.” The faint smile on her face faded fast. You saw the tension in her jaws. The way her fingers gripped the glass so tightly, you thought it would shatter.
“It was not by choice,” she said. Her voice was cold and dark. “I was cycled through the Red Room four times before my girls were even born. Those walls were all I knew, and I was never given a choice until they were put in my life.”
“The mission in Ohio,” you said. There was no trace of surprise or shock on her face.
“She told you,” you nodded. With your glass now empty, you filled it again from the bottle.
“While we were in Italy, she woke up from a nightmare and attacked me,” you smiled. “She told me about Ohio, Budapest.”
“3 years,” Melina mumbled. “I pretended to be their mothers for 3 years, but it became real,” a smile returned to her face. “I remember we had a photo shoot to really sell it. We shot Christmas, Easter, and summer vacation all in one day. I still have that photo album,” her eyes seemed far away, lost in the memory she was sharing. “I could tell Natalia loved Christmas. Her eyes were so bright as she looked at all the perfectly wrapped presents, even though they were all empty.”
Melina took a sip of her drink. “They became my reason to fight and live again. So when we completed the mission, I was not going back to him. He was not going to hurt my girls anymore. Clearly, we thought we ended it in Budapest, but we were wrong,” sighing, she emptied her glass in one big swig and filled it again. “The cycle continued,” she shook her head as if she was disappointed in herself for believing her family was safe.
“You had every right to believe it was safe, and it was over.” Melina huffed.
“Why does a mouse born in a cage run on that little wheel?” She asked. You weren’t sure if you had the answer she was looking for.
“But you’re not a mouse, Melina. You were just born in a cage, but that’s not your fault.” Somehow, you made her smile. But you could tell she was done talking about it.
“Tell me why you could not fall back to sleep.” You bite your lip and look away. You kept what Maria said to yourself; not even Natasha knew about it. You were worried about what they would say. Why should you worry about a random girl when you have a family to worry about? But that little girl with big eyes and an innocence you wanted to protect was constantly on your mind.
“There is this girl who,” you paused, feeling the emotions crawl up your throat. “Is the reason Maria and I were able to escape. She’s struggling with-”
“The taste of freedom?” Melina guessed. You nodded. “Natalia struggled with it too.”
“Did she break someone’s nose and wrist?”
“No,” she chuckled. “But we had some close calls. These girls need a stable home that will understand what they have gone through. I think you could help.” You blinked a few times at her. Was she some type of mind reader? Maybe it was some Widow mind-reading training that you missed at the Red Room.
“How-,” you raised your eyebrows at her. “How did you know I was considering helping her?”
“Please,” she waved her hand. “The guilt has been all over your face since the moment I saw you down here,” you blew out a raspberry. It was why you wanted to drink it in peace, so you could lower your mask. “Do you have a picture of her?” You nodded and pulled out your phone. You had Maria send you her file, which included a picture.
Melina took your phone and remained quiet as she looked at the photo. There was a slight shake to her hand as she handed it back to you. “She looks like Yelena when she was that age.”
“I thought the same thing.” You took your phone back and looked at it. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, with shorter pieces framing her face. Sure, she and Yelena both had blonde hair, but it was her eyes that reminded you so much of your sister-in-law. There was pain, a light that had been dulled, but a child-like love and innocence you wanted to nourish and protect.
Yelena was much older than Mila when your wife finally allowed you to meet her family. She was still in college and basically an adult, but she always looked at life with wonder and amazement. Like she knew how precious life was because in a moment it could all change. Now you know why. “I think that’s why I became so protective of her.” You continued.
“So you have your answer, malen’kiy ship (little thorn).” You smiled at the nickname. Natasha was their rose, and you were Natasha’s thorn. A rose always had one. “Even if you save one, it will feel like you have saved a hundred.”
“Thank you,” you finished your drink, and Melina put the dirty glasses in the sink. “Goodnight, Melina.” As you were headed back to your room, Melina called out for you. You stopped and turned to face her.
“I debated for years to allow Natalia to tell you,” she was looking at you, but her gaze seemed to be looking through you. “I wonder if I would have made a difference.” A thousand what-ifs were going to keep this family up for years.
“I guess we’ll never know,” you smiled. “Sleep well.”
“Sleep well.” Her smile wasn’t quite reaching her eyes. Everyone had their own demons to face.
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“Does she know I’m here?” You asked, following Maria to the apartment complex of SHIELD headquarters. They were mostly there for late nights and new trainees who needed a place to stay while they looked for permanent housing.
“Yes,” she said. “I told her that you were coming to visit.” That was good. The last thing you wanted to do was startle her, but that did not settle your nerves. “Hey,” Maria stopped you outside Mila’s room. “Stop with the nerves. If you can ask Natasha to marry you, you can talk and connect with a 14-year-old girl.” You rolled your eyes and flicked her on the forehead. “Ow,” she slapped your hand away. “That’s assault on a government official.”
“Kiss my ass,” you laughed and faced Mila’s door. “I’ll come get you when we are done talking.” Maria nodded and squeezed your shoulder as she walked past you.
Sighing, you knocked on the door. “Hey, Mila, it’s me,” you said through the door. “Can I come in?” When she stayed quiet, you hesitated as you opened the door. Mila was easy to find, sitting on the windowsill and looking out. “Hey, kiddo,” she kept her eyes on whatever she was looking at, but you saw her body acknowledge you. “Can I join you?” Still nothing.
You wanted to give her space, so you sat on the couch. You allowed yourself to look at her. She was still that same girl, but now she just looked more exhausted. Her blonde hair was not braided but flat to her back. You could make out the dark circles underneath her eyes. “It is rude to stare,” she finally said.
“It’s also rude not talk to your guest.” You chuckled.
“You are not my guest since I did not invite you. That was Maria.” The girl sighed. “Are you going to send me back?” Your already fragile heart shattered even more.
“No,” you firmly said. “No, babygirl, that place is gone. You are free from them.”
“Then why are you here?” The girl asked. “Are you in charge of my punishment?” Gods above, these girls never deserved the fate they were delivered. “Because I hurt him.” Mila squeezed her hands into fists. “I hurt him. All I have ever done is hurt people. Slowly, she began to hit herself. “I hear him. I feel them.” The pounding against her head got harder and faster.
“Hey, hey,” Quickly, you stood up and grabbed onto her hands.
“Stop!” She yelled and fought against you. She was about to free her right hand and slap you across the face. It surprised you, but you grabbed her hand and pinned the girl to your chest. Your arms held her tightly even when she tried to hit you. “Let me go! Stop! You are just like them.” The insults pounced off you because you knew she needed to release some of her anger, and she directed it at you.
“Easy,” you whispered. “It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you or take you away,” you cooed softly. After a few tense moments, Mila slumped against you. Every ounce of energy left her body. “There you go,” you praised. You felt her tears against your shirt. If she were anything like your wife, it would make it worse if you drew attention to her crying.
“I waited for you,” Mila whimpered. “I waited for you to come see me. Why did you take so long?” You sighed. How could you explain to a little girl that you ran as soon as you could? That you needed time away from all of this because you were afraid of the person you were in there.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “But I’m here now.”
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“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you are cheating on me,” you dropped the knife against the counter at your wife’s statement. You were preparing the girls’ lunches for their home school program. Her footsteps walked behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Her head rested on the middle of your back. “I thought with your retirement, I would see you more.” Sighing, you picked up the knife and continued cutting the fruit.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just-” you gripped onto the knife.
“I know,” Natasha kissed your back. Putting the knife back down on the counter, you turned around in her arms. “I miss you.” You smiled, pushed some of her hair behind her ear, and kept your hand on her cheek. You missed her, too. Your time had been split between helping Maria find homes for these girls and spending time with Mila. Any extra time was spent with Rose and Hailey. Time with Natasha got pushed aside.
“I love you,” you whispered. “I hope you never doubt that.” Before you could kiss her, she placed a hand on your chest to stop you.
“I know you do,” Natasha smiled. “But I need you to start taking care of yourself.”
“I’m fine, Nat.” You tried to continue what you were doing, but Natasha pinned you against the counter. “I have to finish their lunch.” Your wife shook her head.
“Why are you trying so hard to save Mila?” She asked. You refused to answer right away. The words were a mess in your head. Instead of answering, you looked at the fridge behind your wife. The fridge door was covered with artwork that Rose and Hailey drew, pictures from their soccer team, and family trips. Natasha even hung up the photo strip of her and Yelena from when they were kids. “Why do you have so much guilt for something that is not your fault?”
“Because,” your voice cracked. “I look at Mila, and I see you. I see Yelena and Melina. I see a little girl who needs help, as you did. Then,” you tore your gaze from the fridge back to Natasha. “I look at Mila, then I’ll see Rose and Hailey. I imagine what would happen if they were in Mila’s position. Would someone help them, or would they be lost in the system?” You moved your thumb against her cheek. “I have to try to save her, Nat, or it’s gonna kill me.” You weren’t expecting Natasha to finally contact her lips with yours.
A surprise squeak left your mouth, but it was easy to fall into kissing her. The faint taste of coffee from this morning still lingered on her tongue. The scent of her perfume invaded your senses. The grip of her hands on your neck tightened.
Natasha. She was the love of your life. Your best friend. You never wanted to take her love for granted because it was so hard for her to give it to you.
“Oh my god!” “My eyes!” You jumped back at the sound of your girl’s voice. Their hands were covering their eyes.
“Is it over?” Hailey asked. Natasha rolled her eyes.
“Almost,” she teased before kissing you again. Slowly, she pulled away from you and rounded the counter to sit at the island. “All safe girls.”
“Unbelievable,” Hailey mumbled and opened the fridge. “In the kitchen! Do you have no decency?” Rose giggled at her sister’s antics. Quickly, you finished up the fruit and put the cut-up berries in their lunch box.
“I am innocent. Your mother jumped me.” You easily blamed Natasha. Your wife gasped from behind you. Hailey glared at you and snatched her lunchbox.
“Blaming just her is a mean,” Rose said more gently when taking her lunch. “It does take two to tango.” Your mouth dropped while Natasha tried to muffle her laughter.
“Get out of here, you rascals,” you ruffled their hair. “Wanda is waiting for you.”
“Not our fault, we are late,” Hailey mumbled as they ran to the door to put on their sneakers.
“Bye, Mom. Bye, mama.” Rose waved.
“Bye printsessy. Have a great day.” They rushed out the door and slammed it behind them.
“Unbelievable,” you shook your head. “Where did she even learn that?”
“Probably Stark.” Typical. That would be the last time you allowed Tony to watch your kids. You began to clean up the mess you made. However, you felt Natasha watching you.
“Is me being all domestic doing it for you?” Natasha scuffed.
“Don’t be an ass. I remember you selling me out to our kids,” you held up your hands to surrender. You ran the knife under the water. “Why don’t you get approval to have Mila stay with us?” Once again, you dropped the knife.
“We aren’t foster parents.”
“No, but Fury and Maria would look the other way for this.” You focused on cleaning the knife, then the cutting board. It would be simple to load the dishwasher, but you needed to keep your hands busy. “Her being locked up at SHIELD isn’t going to help her. She is going to feel trapped just like the Red Room.” Natasha began to pick at the skin around her nails, a nervous tick she sometimes did. Drying off your hands, you stopped her. Sometimes, if you weren’t around, she would make herself bleed.
“Are you sure? This could reopen a lot of old wounds.” Natasha nodded.
“We are a team,” she whispered. “Besides, I need to do something too. To redeem the red on my ledger.” You wanted to say she was a victim in all of this, and the things she did weren’t on her own. But it would take time to change her way of thinking. “We’ll set up the guest room and meet the girls at the park.”
“Okay, if you are sure,” she nodded again. “Do you want to tell her?” You watched her body tense up.
“I don’t know.” You nodded. You weren’t going to tell her what to do. This was her story to tell. You kissed her hand again.
“Come on, baby,” you smiled. “I think we deserve a day to ourselves.” The day was still young. The other responsibility could wait till later.
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“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mila asked for the 15th time since you suggested she would live at your house. It took her 2 days to agree to the idea. Within those two days, you got approval from Maria and Fury, cleaned up the guest room, and got her the basics. Then you and Natasha sat down with Rose and Hailey to explain the situation to them. You kept it vague about Mila. That she was a young girl whom you helped rescue on your last mission. She needed a home to help heal. Hailey was ecstatic to have another friend to mess around with.
Rose was more cautious. She asked more questions to learn how to help Mila. Natasha took the lead with those questions since she knew better than anyone how to heal from the Red Room. After some time, Rose agreed. She said if anyone could help Mila, it would be this family.
“Yes,” you answered. “Natasha and my daughters are very excited to meet you. And,” you parked the car. You already saw Natasha at a bench watching Rose and Hailey on the swings. You faced Mila before you began. “You aren’t trapped here. You can leave whenever, and we can find a new home.”
Mila found your family. You showed her a picture of them when you first started visiting her at SHIELD. Her hands clenched into fists. “I never had that.” Her eyes were trained on Natasha, who was now pushing Hailey. The twins were 12, almost 13, but they had a way to still play like they were younger. “Dreykov got to me before I could form any memories of my mother. I do not know how to play with normal kids my age,” she unclenched her fist. “I do not know how to be a normal kid.”
“It takes time, Mila,” you said. “And they know you might not understand something or feel uncomfortable. But they are patient.” Mila stayed quiet. “Do you trust me?” That made the girl pause, but after a brief moment of hesitation, she nodded. “Then trust me when I tell you I would never put you in a position where I think you wouldn’t thrive.” Mila let out a slow breath.
“Let’s do this before I throw up,” you chuckled, turned off the car, and got out. The walk to the playground was slow, but when you got closer, you let out a whistle that mimicked the one Natasha and Yelena do together. That got your family’s attention. They got off the swings and met you and Mila.
“Hi, Mila,” Natasha smiled. “I’m Natasha, and this is Rose and Hailey.” The twins waved. You saw Mila tense up, but she recovered quickly, and she cleared her throat.
“Uh, hi,” she said barely above a whisper. Suddenly, Hailey’s eyes went wide.
“Whoa. You sound like our aunt.” Mila’s eyebrows went to her hairline.
“Your aunt is Russian?” She questioned.
“Yes, my sister,” Natasha said quickly. You could see the gears in Mila’s head working over time.
Rose came to the rescue, “We brought a soccer ball. Do you want to play with us?” Mila looked between the twins, then to you. You gave her a small nod.
“I may not be very good.” Rose smiled.
“Neither is Hailey.”
“Jerk!” Hailey said and ran over to the ball. Rose stayed back to walk with Mila. You figured Rose’s calmer energy would benefit Mila. Natasha sighed once they were out of earshot.
“Do you think she knows?” You asked.
“I think,” Natasha gave you a side hug while you both watched Rose teach Mila how to kick a soccer ball. “She’s a smart girl and will probably find out sooner or later.” You agreed with that. She hid her face in the crook of your neck.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“I knew she looked like Yelena, but seeing her in person is just,” Natasha huffed. “A lot.”
“If you ever need a moment, take it. If I can watch Tony, Billy, and Hailey, I think I can manage them.” Natasha laughed.
“I love you.” You smiled and kissed the top of her head.
“I love you too.”
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The door was open to Mila’s room, but you still knocked. “Come in.” You entered and saw the girl sitting on the bed. She was wearing a pair of PJs from Hailey’s closet. Even though Mila was a little order, she was smaller than your girls. “This is all for me.” You nodded and sat at the edge of the bed.
“This will be your open for a little bit,” you told her. “I bet this is a little overwhelming.” The girl nodded. Her eyes moved around the room, and you desperately wanted to know what was going through her head. Sighing, she twisted the blanket in her hands.
“Do you remember Emilia?” Mila asked. The question took you by surprise. The head injury you received made your memories a little fuzzy. Then it dawned on you. A young girl with a gun pointed at the back of her head by Madame B.
“Yeah, I remember,” you waited for her to continue. There had been a reason why she brought her up. Mila was staring at her hands.
“Do you know why they killed her?”
“No,” you answered. Honestly, you were surprised they had a reason. They seemed like the type to kill without a reason. There was no time for you to find out why.
“They found out she was trying to escape, and they interrogated her because they believed she was not going to escape alone,” Mila let out a shaky breath. “She refused to give up the information, and they killed her to set an example,” she looked up, and her eyes were glossy with tears. “It was me. It was my idea, and she would not give them my name.” She angrily pushed the palms of her hands to her eyes. After a few deep inhales and exhales, she continued, “I told her that you and Maria were our last shot to freedom. I saw how you never bowed down to him. You were the first person to beat him.”
No, you weren’t. You were the first person these girls saw stand up to him. Your family beat him. They showed you it was possible. “She was your friend.” Mila shook her head.
“She was my everything. When she died, a part of me went with her. I think,” she shook her head. “No, I know that is why it was so easy for me to free you and Maria. I did not care if they caught me doing it.” Without her saying it, you knew what she meant. Death would have meant she would see Emilia again.
“She would be proud of you.” Mila pinched her eyebrows together.
“How do you know? You did not know her.”
“No, I didn’t. But she stood up to them in her final moments, and you are continuing to fight to be free of them.” You moved off her bed so she could lie down. You tucked her in like you’ve done a thousand times for your girls. “And by doing that, you are standing up to them.”
“Do I deserve this?” She asked. “After everything I’ve done.”
“I think you deserve it more than anyone else. Try to get some sleep, sweetheart. If you need anything, come get me,” Mila nodded and closed her eyes.
“Goodnight.” You turned off the lights.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” you said as you closed the door behind you.
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The full week with Mila was interesting. She was terrified to open up to your girls or even Natasha, but it wasn’t from lack of trying on their part. The girl seemed to trust you alone, which Natasha said was normal. You were the first adult to show her care. However, your wife noticed that Mila wasn’t sleeping much. The bags underneath the girl’s eyes were growing darker. There was a few times she almost fell asleep while eating.
At 2 weeks of living with you, you sat on her bed while she lay underneath the covers of her bed. “You haven’t been sleeping,” you confronted her. Mila shrugged. “Why?” She looked towards the bedroom door before she answered.
“Scared,” she looked back at you. “I hurt him because he woke me up from a nightmare.” Ah, the boy from the previous family she was at. “What if I hurt Rose? Or Hailey?” You smiled, placing your hand on her stomach.
“You won’t,” she wasn’t convinced. “Because Natasha and I won’t let that happen.” She placed her hand on top of yours, playing with your wedding ring.
“Do you have nightmares?” She asked. Her voice was soft and childlike. Sometimes you forgot how old she was.
“All the time,” you told her. “Time helps heal the mind, but you need to sleep.” You put your other hand on top of hers. “Trust me. I’ll keep everyone safe, okay?” Mila nodded.
“Okay,” she turned on her side. “Goodnight.”
“Night, sweetheart.”
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It was Rose’s yells that woke you and Natasha up. It was a mess of limbs. You managed to get out of bed and run to your daughter. She was standing by Mila’s room with the door open. Rose’s eyes were wide and frantic when she looked at you. Inside, you saw Hailey pinned to the bed with Mila on top of her. You acted quickly, rushing over to drag Mila off your daughter. Once Hailey was free, you heard the sharp inhale as the rush of oxygen returned to her lungs. Natasha rushed over to check on her.
Mila struggled against you. Her elbow went into your stomach. You grunted but held onto her. Natasha said your name as she stood in front of you. “Let her go.”
“Nat,” you said in disbelief.
“Let her go and take the girls to our room.” The last thing you wanted to do was leave your wife with Mila, but you saw your girls terrified near the door. “Trust me.”
“Okay,” you let her go, and Mila ran towards Natasha. Your wife expertly dodged the first punch, then the second. You wanted to stay, but you made a promise. “Come on.” You ran to your girls and picked them up. They were too big for this, but they were frozen to the spot. Once they were safe in your bedroom with the door closed, Hailey whimpered.
“You left mama.” You sat them down on your bed.
“Mama is going to be just fine,” you promised them. Gods, you hoped you were right.
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It had been years since she fought like this. When her and Yelena’s schedules lined up, they liked to spar to keep their skills sharp. However, this was different. Mila was actively trying to hurt her, even though she was trapped in whatever nightmare she was in. “Widow,” she spoke when she created some distance. “Stand down,” Natasha hated the sound of her own voice. Mila hesitated before her next attack. Good, Natasha thought, she was still in there. “It is lights out. Bed.” Natasha ordered. With collected steps, Mila walked over to the bed and lay down. Natasha felt the girl’s eyes on her as she reached into her pocket - a pair of handcuffs. Mila’s body tensed up.
“Please, no,” the girl pleaded. Slowly, Natasha approached her and pinned the girl’s head to the headboard. With practiced precision, Natasha cuffed the girl’s hand. It was like a switch flipped inside Mila. “No!” She screamed. Her back arched against the bed. Natasha was quicker when her legs began to thrash. “You’re hurting me! Let me go! Stop!” Natasha had to close her eyes to keep her emotions in check. “You are just like him! Just like Dreykov.” Gods, it had been years since she heard someone outside her family say his name. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the bile from traveling up her throat.
“Sh,” Natasha mumbled. “Sh.” Suddenly, she began to hum. The softness calmed Mila. Her chest was heaving, eyes wide and frantic. Natasha sat on the edge of the bed. “Under the green pine tree. Lay me down to sleep. Oh, lyuli, lyuli, oh, lyuli, lyuli.” Natasha watched Mila’s chest slow down as she recognized the song that was passed down from generation to generation in the Red Room. Natasha smiled. The lyrics felt rusty on her tongue, but it was muscle memory. Natasha continued, “Beautiful woman, soul-maiden falls in love with you.”
Tears formed at Mila’s waterline. “You were there,” she whispered. “That-that picture on the wall that he was obsessed with was you.” Natasha nodded. Her thumb pushed away the tears that fell down her cheek.
“I was,” Natasha spoke softly. The last thing she wanted was to startle the girl. “So was my sister, my mother, and father. I’m going to take those off,” Mila nodded. Natasha took off and dropped the cuffs onto the side table. Natasha placed her hands on her stomach. “It feels impossible,” Natasha continued. “To break through his conditioning, but it is possible.” There were so many times she thought about giving up. With all the guilt and pain, death seemed easier. “And the life you find on the other side of it is beautiful.”
If she gave up, Melina and Alexei would never have asked her to be the witness at their small courthouse wedding. She would have never held back Yelena’s hair when she got too drunk at her first high school party and covered for her. She would never have made a lifelong friendship with Laura and Clint or become an aunt to their three kids. Then she met you. A hot headed, cocky friend of Clint from the service, whom she fell head over heels for.
“I’m scared.” Mila finally said.
“Good,” Natasha smiled. “It’s good to be scared because that means you’re about to do something brave.” Mila’s cheeks were blotchy with dried tears. Natasha used her thumb to push some of the tears that fell. “My mother said to me, ' Pain only makes you stronger. Those words helped me survive. Maybe they can help you, too.” Finally, Mila smiled. It was small, but it was a start.
“You have a beautiful family,” she said. “I am sorry I hurt Hailey.”
“I know you are, sweetheart,” Natasha said. “I punched my mom and gave my dad a black eye.” Mila chuckled. “We’ve been trained to be a weapon and a soldier in a war we had no say in. But no more fighting. You get to live now.”
“No more fighting,” Mila repeated. “Your wife said that to me before we escaped.
“She has her moments of brilliance. Don’t tell her I said that,” a real laugh bubbled out of the girl and it was the best sound Natasha had ever heard. “Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” Mila nodded.
“Please.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Natasha said as she watched the girl get comfortable and close her eyes. It was a deja vu moment for her. Months after Budapest, she found herself watching over Yelena as Yelena woke from a nightmare. She promised her sister that she would fight whatever came to hurt her. Natasha would do the same for Mila.
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When Mila woke up the next morning, she wasn’t expecting to see Rose sitting next to her bed. It startled her, but she moved slowly until she was sitting up, face-to-face with your daughter. “After last night, sneaking up on me probably is not the best idea.” Instead of answering, Rose’s eyes narrowed at her.
For the past two weeks, Mila has been able to observe your family’s dynamic. Hailey was loud. She liked and thrived under attention. She was never afraid to be the butt of a joke to make her sister laugh. There was a protectiveness under all of her smiles and laughter.
Then there was Natasha. There was a softness under all those rough edges. A big heart that had been hurt but not broken. You kept everything together. You were the glue that held the pieces together. You were calm, patient, and loved so bright.
Finally, Rose. Mila liked Rose the most. She could exist in the quiet, unlike her sister. She was calculating and observant, and could read emotions better than some of the Widows Mila trained with. She would have done well in the Red Room. “The people who hurt you,” Rose finally said. “They are the same ones that took my mom.”
It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. A conclusion she came to that she wanted Mila to confirm or deny. Mila wasn’t sure how much you told them - what horrors you desperately wanted to protect them from. Mila gave her a curt nod. Rose leaned back in the chair, arms crossed and one leg over the other. She was intimidating. From the stories she heard of Natasha and what she saw of you, Rose was a perfect blend of the two. “And those people,” Rose spoke slowly. “What happened to them?”
“They are dead,” Mila answered simply. She left out the fact that Maria killed Madame B in front of her, and you killed Dreykov. Rose nodded.
“Good,” Suddenly, she smiled. “Come on, our moms are still sleeping. Hailey and I are making breakfast. We want you to help us.”
“Oh. Okay,” Mila slowly got out of bed and followed Rose to the kitchen. Hailey was indeed in the kitchen, with flour all over her sleep shirt, whisking ingredients in the bowl. Her eyes lit up when they landed on Mila. However, she saw the bruise she caused on Hailey’s neck.
“Good morning!” Hailey smiled. Rose groaned.
“I told you to wait for me,” she said, taking the bowl from her sister. Mila was confused. She expected more hostility, more yelling. She was ready to pack her bags and get shipped back to SHIELD. Instead, she was in your kitchen, making breakfast.
“While she is making the pancake batter, we’ll start on the eggs.” Hailey went to grab her hand but Mila pulled away. Hailey’s smile fell. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Mila questioned. “I strangled you. If your mom did not pull me off, I would have killed you.” Hailey sighed and looked at her sister, who nodded.
“Look, I’m not happy you almost crushed my windpipe, but I’m not mad at you. You were having a nightmare, right?” Mila nodded slowly. “And you don’t want to kill me now, correct?” Again, Mila nodded. “Amazing. Let’s cook some eggs.” Rose giggled and shook her head.
“You aren’t the only one with nightmares under this roof,” Rose said. “Mom and mama try to hide it from us, but we still hear it.” Mila smiled and began to help Hailey with breakfast.
Mila was never going to understand your family. Such a kind and caring group of individuals. However, she was going to enjoy her time here as long as she was allowed to.
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The smell of cooking woke you up. With your eyes closed, you reached out to the person next to you. Your hand touched Natasha. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled. You slowly sat up. If Natasha was in bed next to you, who the hell was in the kitchen?
You stood up and slowly walked into the kitchen, which was a mess. Flour was on the floor. There were discarded eggshells on the counter. In the center of it all were your daughters and Mila. The radio was slightly on, and the trio was around the stove. Your presence went unnoticed. “Stop,” Mila said. “I’m nervous.”
“You totally got this.” Hailey cheered.
“Just one smooth motion,” Rose added on. “Don’t hesitate.” Mila groaned and picked up the pan on the stove. You could see a pancake. Mila sighed and tried her luck of slipping it. It was one solid motion as the pancake flipped in the air and landed back in the pan. “You did it!” Rose cheered and hugged the girl when she put the pan down. It warmed your heart to see your girls interacting with each other. You were worried there would be tension.
You clapped, making your presence known. The three jumped and turned to look at you. “Having fun?” You asked.
“Mom!” Rose ran over to hug you, but you stopped her. “Breakfast is..”
“All over the kitchen.” You teased. The three of them cringed.
“Are you upset?” Mila asked slowly. The question was double-sided. Were you upset about last night and the mess in the kitchen?
“No, I’m glad you three are having fun. But,” you placed your hands on your hips. “Maybe we should clean this up and order breakfast.”
“Brilliant idea, mother,” Hailey said. “Because I do believe there are shells in the eggs.” You rolled your eyes.
“Go get the mop,” you told Hailey. She saluted and ran off. “Rose, start whipping down the counters, and Mila and I will throw out the food.” Rose copied her sister’s salute and grabbed a washcloth. Mila pulled over the trash can.
“You are being honest, right?” She asked. You nodded.
“Healing isn’t linear,” you told her. “These things will take time.” The stove was cleaned up, and you moved to the counter. “You will have a place here as long as you want.” Mila nodded.
“I do not want to leave,” Mila admitted.
“Good,” Hailey said, reappearing with the mop and bucket. “You are part of this family now.”