Work Text:
Natasha POV:
November 24th. This day seems to roll around every year, almost exactly the same. The temperature always low, which I don’t mind much, reminds me of Russia, in a bittersweet way that either makes me want to smile or scream. The trees all lay bare, all sign of plant life gone by this point. The compound turns into a sort of sauna. Most of the team not as used to the cold weather as I am.
Coincidentally, there seems to be much less to do during this period of time. Not many missions, and any that come up are dished amongst the newer recruits, in order for them to gain experience.
The guys always spend their days spread out. Tony tucked away in his lab, Steve either training or slotted somewhere sketching away. Bruce bounces between helping Tony or just being a recluse. Clint returns home ready for thanksgiving and Christmas with Laura and the kids.
And then me. November 24th is a cold day that’s expected to come around every 365 days (as long as there’s a lack of alien invasion that could end the world). And yet every year it throws me off. Every year I wake up early, usually due to nightmares, and attempt to make my way out of bed. Only to get up, lock my door and hide away until the day is up.
I don’t remember much of the Red Room in my earlier years, just the less horrific stuff, minor beatings and the such. Trauma seems to have devoured the rest of my younger childhood years, until it has become a large gap in my life. But I do remember being 17, graduating 3 years prior to what I was supposed to, the one to watch out for. Little Natalia, the red headed fox, ‘watch out for her’ they’d whisper, ‘she’s ruthless, has no heart that one, she looks small but she’s the favourite’.
‘Madame B’s own little monster’.
November 24th marks the anniversary of my graduation. The day where I truly became a widow, nothing but a killing machine. Nothing but Madame B’s little monster. The funny part is I never wanted children, with or without the Red Room, I wouldn’t have made such a good mother. But it would be nice to know that I had the opportunity, the choice of my own.
This year is different though. I’m not alone this time. Last night one little miss Wanda Maximoff had woken up in tears, people were setting off fireworks close enough to the compound, and I found her hidden away, silently crying that she ‘had to get away from the bombs’. I knew that tomorrow would be hard for me, but Wanda had become like the surrogate daughter I never had.
Upon our first meeting I couldn’t stand the girl. She had defiled my mind, all of my darkest secrets were now out for her to see, for her to use. But when all was over, and she was coming back with us, after I had recollected my thoughts for a month at Clint’s and had returned to the compound, was when I realised just how bad it was.
Flashback to Nat’s return*
‘Come on Natalia, you’ve got this. This is why you spent time at Clint’s, to be ready to come back’
I tell myself.
‘Woman up’
I plaster my signature smirk onto my face, sauntering into to common room, I greet all of the team again. I notice that not only is Bruce still missing, but the one person I was petrified of was too.
‘Where’s Wanda’, escapes my mouth before I can think about it.
‘I don’t know’, ‘her room probably’, ‘I don’t care’
The last one being Tony.
‘Well it’s almost 5pm, hasn’t anyone seen her at breakfast?.. Lunch?’
They all shake their heads. Steve pulling me aside, “Nat you don’t understand. She’s dangerous, we never should have brought her back. We should have handed her to the government when we had a chance. All she’s done is use her powers, every night, for the past month.”
Shock displays on my face. “What? Did she hurt anyone?!”
“No Nat, thankfully not. But she won’t leave her room, hopefully because she’s realising that she’s a danger to us all. She’s still using her powers though. It’s weird, every night, at the same time. Usually more that once as well”.
I’ve heard enough, maybe all of the guys are fine with her acting out like this but I’m most certainly not. I march my way up to her door and bray on it loudly. “Witch I’ve had enough of this behaviour! Open the door right now or I’m opening it for you”, nothing, “Witch I swear it god that if you don’t open the door, I’m going to force my way in and drag you out myself”.
Once again I’m met with nothing. Fine, if that’s how she wants to play. Within seconds the door in off its hinges, my mind clouded by blinding rage. And she’s right there, just curled on her bed. The room is dark, her bed is messy, but everything else looks the same, untouched, like it’s not lived in at all. Not how a persons room should look.
And she looks worse, the young woman who I had despised on the battle field, suddenly didn’t look like a young woman, but a girl. Her face more sunk in, pale and grey. Her hair a mess of grease and dirt, as if she had been trapped in time, still looking the same as when her brother had died. Then again, it was only a month ago. And with her jacket off I get a good look at her body, still in the clothes she had worn that day, the only thing next to her, an old plastic water bottle, one she had likely refilled so many times.
Her pillow has a large damp patch, and I can see her wide green eyes are sticky with tears. Wow. This is bad. I reach out towards her wanting her to turn so I can see her properly. When my hand brushes her shoulder she jerks violently and curls into herself more securely. My only accomplishment being that I pulled her quilts back and can now see the top of her bony spine from the top of the dress- along with large scars that make crosses along her back.
“S-stop, please don’t touch me”, she whispers,” I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you”.
Well now it makes sense. I suppose Steve was right, although his thoughts were more malicious towards the little witch, she really was staying away because she thought she was dangerous. Suddenly, I feel torn between running and scooping her up.
“Wanda, are you okay?”, all I can see are her shoulders hunched and jerking every few seconds as she silently sobs to herself. She shakes her head, slowly and almost invisibly. I go to sit on her bed, she scoots further away, I place my hand on her shoulder again, she moves to stand. Only this time I grab her and pull her straight onto the bed again. Her back pressed firmly against my front as she struggles to get away.
“Sto-stop! I’ll hurt you!”, she’s screaming now, hysterically batting my hands away from her, kicking her legs; not affecting me, but clawing at herself. Until she suddenly stops, defeated and slumping back, she whispers,”You need to let me go… I always hurt people. It’s always my fault. I’m dangerous, I’m sorry, I’ll leave now”. And with that I’m shocked. Too shocked stop her from removing her self from my hold, just sitting slack jawed on her bed, watching her shuffle over to her tattered boots placing them roughly onto her feet. She moves quickly towards the desk chair, where the jacket, my jacket, hangs. Picking it up and handing it to me, “Thankyou for allowing me to borrow it. Or I suppose not allowing, but tolerating me stealing it”, she won’t look me in the eye, “I’ve never had a nice jacket, Thankyou for your kindness Natasha”.
She moves towards the door, going to open it, and then my mind finally clears up as I shout for her, “Wanda? Wait”.
She turns slowly, shoulders coming up to her ears, bracing herself for something that would never come again, not if I had anything to do with it. I march over, and surprising both Wanda and myself, wrap her in a hug. The feel of her skinny body under my toned one feels wrong. We can sort that, I remind myself. Her small voice breaks me out of my thoughts, “o-okay, I’ll go now. Thanks for the room, and a roof over my head”, her voice cracks, “tell the others thanks for me? I- I mean p-please?”
“Wanda. You aren’t going anywhere”, her green doe eyes, so much like my own peer up at me, “I’m not? B-but I’m dangerous… I could hurt you all. I will… I know I will”.
“You need to stop listening to those voices in your head Wands-“
“It’s not me telling myself… I’ve heard them all speaking about me for the past month. All their thoughts flooding my mind. Their hatred for me… As if I didn’t hate myself enough already”? I know she has more to say, so I just walk us over to the bed, sitting next to her with a hand rested on her leg, squeezing gently against her bony thigh.
“God, as-as if I don’t already hate myself. As if I-I ever even wanted these powers. I didn’t ask for them, for peoples thoughts and feelings and nightmares to invade my head all of the time! They act like I try to use them, when I don’t! I can’t help it if I wake up from nightmares every night, reliving my brothers death. They just come out! I don’t mean to use them Natasha I promise!” She’s sobbing now, gut wrenching sobs that shatter me. I’m about to wrap an arm around her when she whispers, “please don’t kick me out… I’m alone now, I’ve never been alone before. Pietro… he’s not here anymore to protect me from the others. I don’t know how to do this alone. I know you don’t owe me anything, but please, just lock me in a cage for the rest of my life instead. I deserve it anyway… take my powers, I don’t care. Just don- don’t send me out there al-alone. Please? I’m beg-begging… I’d rather die”.
My arms come around her faster than I’d ever moved. Shushing her as her body shudders and shakes. Pressing her gently to my chest as I pull her into my lap. Thin fingers curling into my shirt, grasping on so hard.
“Wanda, honey, you’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with me”, giving her a gentle squeeze to help ground her breathing, “I’m going to move you up to my floor and we’ll get this sorted out. Okay? I need you to look at me, sweetie. Listen when I say this… I forgive you”.
Flashback ends*
From that day we did exactly that, walking past all of the staring men who had failed her miserably. Leaving her alone, not bothering to make sure she ate, or even changed out of the clothes still stained with her brothers blood. Not offering her any help. Rest assured they were all made to apologise to her personally.
My train of thought is broken by the little one moving beside me, I can feel the shuffling even though my back is turned. I know she normally wakes up curled into my chest, but I can’t bring myself to move. She knows what this day is. I explained yesterday to the best of my ability, but she’s 16 and anxious and paranoid, and if she figured by herself that I was distant she would immediately blame herself.
“Tasha? I’m here okay?”, not ‘you’re okay’, or ‘don’t cry, it’s alright’, just that she’s here. She rests her hand on my back and I involuntarily flinch, berating myself straight away. I manage to pull myself up, hair stuck to my forehead, the only evidence of any disturbed sleep from the night before. I catch a glimpse of her face, she looks unusually dull, with a forced smile on her face. I’m sure I can’t look any better though. I remember her nightmare from last night, the cause of her climbing into my bed. Pushing my problems to the back of my mind, I turn to her fully. “Hey baby, how you doing?”.
Short sentences? That’s all you’ve got, God Natalia, get a grip. She needs you more than you need to wallow.
“Tasha, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m okay, I just want to make this day as easy for you as possible”. She breaks my heart, her own sweat sticking to her forehead, I can see tear old tracks running down her face, she must have had another nightmare and didn’t wake me up. “Baby, that’s my job okay. I’m not going to say I’m fine… I’m not. But I will be. Okay?”. She nods slowly, but her eyes return to their place on the bed, and she still looks glum. Maybe she just feels what I feel. It will all be fine.
Wanda POV:
I had woken twice last night. The first time it was Pietro, a common nightmare for me over the past year. Simply a flashback, Tasha explained it was likely from CPTSD. Makes sense to me, but doesn’t make it any easier. I had tried my hardest to stay in bed, knowing that Tasha would wake from her own nightmares, and that this day was hard enough for her. She didn’t need me there. But I finally gave in, she welcomed me with opened arms, but they were slacker than usual- I had expected that though, she deserved to be sad.
The second time I was awoken by a different nightmare. I had been looking for Tasha in the compound, but when I had found her and given her a hug from the back she immediately pushed me down. Telling me that it wasn’t working, that she would have to make me leave. I brought up bad memories for her, and she had only taken me in because she thought it would make her feel better about not being able to have kids. But it didn’t. She was making me leave. I begged and begged only for her to make me change back into my old clothes, permanently stained with Pietro’s blood, she gripped my hair and flung me onto the pavement outside. And then I had awoken.
My breathing shallow, I had never had one this bad before. One that affected me this much. I reached for Tasha but she had turned her back to me, shuddering in her sleep slightly. Maybe my dream was right. I sat beside her debating in my head, an idea popping up. I knew my powers had regenerating abilities, they had been tested before, and were under my full control. What if… I regenerated what Natasha had lost. It was worth a try right? And that’s what I did, placing my hands gently over her stomach and putting all my will power into the thought of giving Tasha a biological child. One she would love because she wanted to, not because she had to.
And when it was over I sat. Staring. Feeling happy about what I had done for her, but a secret part of me wished I hadn’t. Although she had only told me yesterday, I had hoped that this year might have been different for her. I had hoped that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, selfishly hoping that because I was here now she would feel complete. Like she had a child, and it didn’t matter that I wasn’t actually hers. Now she had the ability to have her own, and she wouldn’t want me anymore. These thoughts ran through my head, exhausting me to a fitful sleep. Until I work again.
“Tasha, I’m here okay?”, I tell her, I need her to know she’s not alone right now. Even though my heart is breaking that she doesn’t feel good enough about me being her adopted kid to be a bit happier, I know she needs me right now more than I need to wallow. I try keep the sad look off of my face but as she sits up I immediately know I’ve been caught. She asks me how I am and I play it off easily.
She doesn’t even realise what I have done for her yet… what if I just don’t tell her?
No! Stop it Wanda! You’re going to tell her right now. She deserves that! You really want to make her feel better, then tell her.
“Natasha?”, “hmm”, “I need to tell you something”. Her groggy eyes focus on me slowly, “go ahead Malyshka”.
I decide it’s going to be easier to just blurt it all out at once, “I did something last night and I don’t want you to be mad, but I did it to make you happier! Okay? Okay. I had a nightmare and it was awful and you hated me because I wasn’t actually yours and you said that you only wanted me because you thought it would make you feel better about not being able to have a baby and then you made me leave even though last year you promised you wouldn’t… and- and then I woke up and I felt horrible for making you feel like you had to take care of me- even though you don’t- so I made a spur of the moment decision and”, I’m whispering now, “and…and I regenerated your reproductive system”.
I daren’t look at her face. She’s going to be so mad at me for using my powers on her. If I did have good intentions. Oh my god, she’s going to kick me out. I catch a glimpse of her and shes just staring, wide eyed, at me. I bolt from the room before she even gets the opportunity to kick me out. I run straight to my room, removing all my newer belongings form myself, any rings or jewellery I didn’t have in sokovia is taken off and I dig out my old clothes. Much like my dream I change into them, ready to remove myself from the compound before I make a scene in my panic, before Natasha can come and kick me out herself. But before I move again I crumple to the ground of my closet. Backing into a corner and sobbing.
Natasha POV:
I can’t believe what she just told me. I can have kids? What! She’s amazing, I stare at her wide eyed, not knowing what to do, trying to either thank her or hug her so tightly, but no words will come out and I can’t move, so shocked. Her eyes are trained to the bed, and I watch her fingers twitch, wanting to grab her before she runs, but once again I’m too shocked to move. Just watching her leave.
She gave me what I wanted my entire life, it makes no difference to me, I never wanted kids anyway. But the fact that she had a dream about me kicking her out for not loving her because she’s not biologically mine, and still doing this anyway because she wanted me to be happy. I am undeserving of her love.
But oh god, Wanda! She probably thought her dream was going to happen, that what she had done will change everything. That I was going to make her leave. I find the sudden willpower to bolt after her, chasing into her room to see it empty.
“No, no, no, no. Wanda! Baby please tell me you’re still here, please don’t leave me!”, my own words coming out wobbly as tears spill from my eyes. I hear her little voice then, from the closet, “mama?.. I’m in here”, she speaks quietly. Ignoring my soaring heart at what she just called me, I walk over to the closet seeing her backed against the wall, curled into herself. I immediately scoop her up, knowing exactly what she is about to start saying I shush her.
“Wanda, honey, I have never been so grateful in my life. You have given me something that I never thought I could have”, “it was easy, don’t worry-“, I interrupt her, “No, I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about you trusting me, allowing me into your mind, into your life. Giving me your trust, letting me take care of you, that day, and ever since. Even when I’ve failed at being a mother figure to you, you’ve forgiven me. I’m so undeserving of you, little one. I never wanted kids of my own, yet this day has always been hard, but that does not mean that you don’t make me feel better. You’re the first person to have told me that you’re just there for me, and not tell me that I was fine. You’re my baby okay, none of this will change that. Okay?”
She nods at me, “yeah, okay. I love you mama, I just was scared that you wouldn’t want me anymore, I’m so messed up and now you can have your own children.”
“Shush honey. It’s going to be okay now, yeah? I’m here… and I don’t care what biology says, you’re mine and I’m yours… my baby, your mama.”
I hug her closer than I ever have before as she whispers, “your baby, my mama”.