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“Stop, stop it! I can do it myself!”
The veteran nurse ignored Natasha’s words, and continued to roll the sweatpants up Natasha’s massive casted leg. She paused for a second at the poorly drawn dick near her knee- fucking Yelena- before continuing. Natasha almost screeched with frustration.
“It’s always bittersweet seeing you go, Natasha. We always miss you, but your tantrums? Not so much.”
“I do not throw tantrums, Sophia .” The name was spat out with a playful malice that only Natasha could muster.
Sophia the nurse rocked back on her feet, clearly exasperated. “What would you call this then?” Natasha just scowled in response. “Alright,” the nurse announced, “arms up!” Natasha grudgingly obeyed, allowing her to slip a soft, worn green sweatshirt over her head.
“Alright, let’s not make this part too difficult this time. My kids kept me up most of the night.” As if they were actors in a play and a backstage cue had been given another nurse entered pushing a wheelchair. Natasha decided to continue playing her part.
But when she went to whine out her signature nooo Sophia shut her down. “Hey Nat, I’m serious- I’m exhausted. Save it for next time, will you? I’ll even bring some extra Bond movies to make it up to you.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Natasha humphed.
“There’s always a next time.”
So Natasha let Sophia and the new nurse (Anna she thinks her name was? She had introduced herself while Natasha was still coming around from the sedation and her thoughts were a little preoccupied with morphine-induced delusions) lift her from the bed and set her down, not too gently, in the wheelchair. They lifted her injured leg in front of her, covered with the colorful signatures of the entire nursing staff and a plethora of Yelena’s doodles, securing it.
As they made their way down the hallway towards Melina’s car Natasha secretly enjoyed the ride. This thing was comfy: only the best for Queen Natasha, as Sophia had quipped once. Why did she fight it everytime? Pride or some shit like that? She didn’t really know, but she knew she would fight the next time as well. She was nothing if not a creature of habit.
They pulled up next to the beaten up 90’s van that was objectively the best car in the world. Granted Victoria (the car’s name, obviously) had almost blown up, or been blown up, a couple of times but regardless Natasha loved her. Melina stood idly by, ready to manhandle Natasha into the backseat of her old friend. They had conducted this dance many times before, and knew the choreography well.
“Ah, here we are. Alright, I’m begging you Nat, take it easy for a couple weeks? For me? I’ll see you in a couple of months when you inevitably hurt yourself again.” Sophia’s tone was colored with good-natured humor, but Natasha could tell her words had weight. Maybe she would rest a little this time around. Maybe.
Natasha had never been one for sentimental moments, though, so she opted instead to flip Sophia off for that “in a couple of months” comment. As the car sped away after a couple of shaky starts Natasha watched her friend's face grow smaller and smaller in the rear window. She was out of that hellhole. Finally.
“Your father and sister have planned a ‘welcome home’ surprise party of sorts so just, act surprised, okay? They worked hard on it. Personally, I don’t understand it; you weren’t even that close to dying this time. But you know it’s their way, so just humor them for a little bit? Then I’ll get them to stop, I promise.”
Melina gave her eldest this lecture as she was buckling her into her new wheelchair that would be her home for the next week or two. “Okay,” Natasha agreed, “okay, okay. ” This spiel had been going on the entire ride home, and frankly Natasha (and Victoria, judging by the strange moan-like creaking sound that had begun to emit from the suspension) was fed up with it. Melina, finally satisfied with her answer, rolled her up the wheelchair ramp they unfortunately always had on hand.
The first thing Nat noticed after being pushed through the door was Alexei’s hulking form barely concealed behind the couch. She also could make out a banner hung over the cramped living room that read ‘Welcome Home Natasha’ but with the ‘Welcome Home’ written over a frantically scribbled out ‘Happy Birthday’.
“SURPRISE!” Alexei erupted from his shitty hiding spot and Yelena from her position crouched on top of the doorframe? Natasha internally rolled her eyes. What was all the fuss about? Melina was right, sure her bone had been broken in three places and now had enough metal brackets to make a carpenter salivate, but she hadn’t nearly died this time.
“We got you a cake!” Yelena shoved a misshapen cake in her face. The top detailed a frowny face, with what she assumed was blood dripping off it, and an arrow pointing from the frowny to a smiley face. Her sister was never an artist. “It’s so you feel better!” Yelana exclaimed.
Alexei then presented her with his own gift. Wheeling her over to the old Lay-Z-Boy he simply swept a massive arm over it, presenting it to her. “This is your throne for the next few weeks! Fancy, eh Natka?” In every one of Melina and Alexei’s safehouses they had always had a beaten up reclining chair, after Alexei discovered his love for them in Ohio. This particular one was a dirty maroon, with a couple of unidentified stains. Alexei quickly unbuckled her, to Melina’s verbal dismay (you’ll hurt her) and his quick replies back (she’s fine, she’s fine). Natasha didn’t say anything. She was too exhausted from the day, and as Alexei lifted her up the only thought that ran through her mind was “This may as well happen.”
As Alexei settled her into the chair she quickly forgot her initial repulsion. Damn, this thing was comfy. He reclined it just enough for her to see the TV while being reclined, and Natasha internally sighed. This was, this was nice. Alexei tucked her soft yellow blanket around her, followed by a quilt, and as he turned around for the third blanket Natasha began to protest.
“Dad, no. That’s too many, I’m hot.”
“Nonsense, Natalia,” His accent began to thicken, “This is a Russian winter, you need to stay warm. I don’t want you catching a chill”
Natasha looked to Yelena for backup, but she just nodded solemnly in agreement. Melina chose to end the argument by declaring, “I made noodles!”
Natasha slurped down her butter noodles. They were a favorite from her briefly Americanized childhood, and still brought her peace even in adulthood. Yelena shared the same love for the cuisine, and slurped on her noodles beside her. They both shared the belief that the meal was much better accompanied by the slurping noises, something that drove their parents mad.
But tonight was for doting on Natasha, so they both refrained from commenting on the irritating noises. Yelena finally finished, already moving on to the next task. God forbid she ever feel the grasp of boredom. “So what do you want to do now Nat?”
“Hm?”
“Well you’re the hurt one so you get to pick, I guess. Do you wanna watch TV, play games, read, talk?”
“Oh. Could we read?”
“Alright, what?”
“Um,” Natasha racked her brain, suddenly very shy in the attentive gaze of her family. “Little Women?”
“Absolutely,” Melina said, slapping her hands against her thighs as she stood up. “I still have the same copy.”
Alexei privately loved the novel too. The sorority of the book reminded him of his own girls, the people he loved most in the world. Probably the only people in the world he loved. He had cried when Beth died when he took the girls to see the ‘94 remake in theaters. The thought of one of his daughters dying was emotionally taxing, and he only sobbed harder when Yelena’s pudgy baby hand came up to wipe his tears away.
“Oh, but before I forget!” Melina said offhand, bustling through the kitchen now. “Here Natasha.”
She held out a sickly neon orange pill container to Natasha.
“What is this?” Natasha grumbled, hiding her alarm.
“It’s your pain pills. You need to take them on a full stomach or you’ll get sick.”
“Or I just don’t need to take them at all.”
“You take them or no story time.” Oh, an ultimatum. Natasha squinted, cocking her head to the side, trying to deduce whether or not her mom actually meant it. Melina met her gaze unwavering. Finally, after weighing her options on her mental scale, Natasha stuck out her hand for the pills. Melina dumped them in her hand, and handed her a glass of water in one swift movement. Then she stood back with an expression that said “If you tongue these pills there will be hell to pay.”
Natasha swallowed them- actually swallowed them- and laid back for her reward of a story. Melina, satiated, now opened the book, ready to regale her little family of the stories of the March clan. Her Jo lay across from her in a chair, comfortable at last. And her Amy lay next to her, head resting near her shoulder. With her husband ex-husband sat next to her Melina felt real, unadulterated joy. She had gotten her family back.
Soothed by her Mama’s voice and vibrant tales of the March sisters, Natasha could feel herself falling into a doze. The painkillers did nothing to help with this at all. They wrapped her mind in a familiar cozy blanket, similar to the ones that were swaddling her physical form. Usually this feeling was stifling and exposing. But now it was pleasant, safe, surrounded by the warmth her parents and sister provided.
Noticing his daughter was nearing closer and closer to sleep, Alexei stood up and moved to her. “Here’s the best part, Tasha.” He pulled a lever and suddenly Natasha was completely flat on her back. She startled a bit, but soon sank back down in the comfort of the worn cushions. He re tucked the blankets around her, and placed a quick, bristly kiss on her forehead. Natasha hummed in contentment.
Then she felt something plush and furry being pushed into her hand. Her sloth-like gaze drifted up towards her sister’s widened eyes, and then down to the little dog in her grasp. Natalia the husky. Thank you Natasha whispered through the haze to her sister. Yelena squeezed her shoulder in return, briefly touching her own forehead to Natasha. No more words needed to be exchanged.
So Natasha closed her eyes and allowed the current of sleep to wash her down river. She was at peace. Finally.