july 19 2020 - 4:12am
to lose is to die.
natasha romanoff x teen!reader
warning(s): death of a sixteen, talk of depression, and suicide!!!!
every night, when her eyes closes, it begins. memories of the fateful day repeats. she will never forget the day her young one's heart stopped.
"mama! it hurts!"
"i know, baby. but don't you worry! bruce is coming." the mother's voice was strained. the lump in her throat held her back from speaking any further. she looked down at her hands, red. the blood that belongs to her young one...is on her hands. the wound, fresh and bleeding fast. the mother bit her lip before placing her hands back onto the daughter's bulletwound on the stomach.
the sleeping woman stirred, and whimpered in her sleep. eyebrows frowned, eyes fluttering ever so slightly, and her chest showed her rapid breathing.
"no! no, baby! k-keep your eyes open! pl-please, y/n romanoff, don't y-you dare!"
a ear-breaking scream. the fellow avengers stood behind, watching and mourning the lost of a young hero. to who was a young slibing or daughter to them. a heart-twisting scene was bestowed upon them.
a mother holding her daughter's body against her warm one. natasha, the mother who has lost, kissed the young romanoffs temple with tears streaming down. she rocked both her daughter, as to ease the unbearable pain in her chest.
a heavy, heavy peasure on her chest. the world now went dark, and her feelings became numb. the ringing her ears, never-ending. the tears that made home, non-stop.
"my baby!"
with a shout, the woman shot up, panting and sweating. eyes brimmed with tears, though her cheeks held evidence of tears streaks. could it be she was crying even in her sleep?
natasha looked to her bed side table, 4:38 am. her breathing slowed, the shakiness of her hands calmed, yet she still felt numb. she threw the blankets off her, standing up off the bed. grimly, she walked into the bathroom sweet, kicking the door close behind her.
dark circles, eyes red, skin white as paper, but overall a dejected look was her face. she stood, looking at a different woman. it was her, but was it really? was this the woman the red room took pride in? was this the woman who shot innocent civilians yet did not flinch? was this really the woman who came to find a family in her world of murder? was this really the woman who cuddled her eight-year old after she had a nightmare?
no. it was a shell of a woman whom once was. the world wondered what had happened to the first female avenger. all they knew is that a misson went bad and she was never to be seen with fellow avengers afterwards. some speculate she had died, that she had finally meet the one who overfought her, so she fell as a hero to many. others thought she had simply gotten tired of the constant fighting and decided to settle down.
maybe they were right. the whole of her died. the day her young one died, so did the feelings that made us human.
"when was the last you laughed?"
she spoke, bitterly to the reflection. teeth grinded together before she shook her head. starting the water, she undressed. if she was to be honest, clothes did not cover her. no, she felt exposed and - helpless.
in the shower, she sat with her knees to her chest. the water ran aimlessly over her.
"i want to be just like you, mama!"
"oh yeah? how just like me?"
the mother bent down to lift the happy six-year old girl, oblivious to the awestruck look her daughter gave her. the young one sat on her mother's hip, being held tight as natasha cooked breakfast for the team.
"f-f-fearless? yeah! fearless! mama isn't scared of monsters!"
"l-like the tickle - monster?"
nastasha stated, eyes focused on the white wall in front of her. that memory will forever be her favortive. it meant so much to know she was doing right that her baby wanted to be her. oh be her - she would've.
too bad. too fucking bad natasha would not see the sixteen year old grow up to be just as quick, skilled, smart like her mother.
for she died before she could see the initiation papers for S.H.I.E.L.D at the fresh age of eighteen.
"it's your fault." was the last words of natasha romanoff. at exactly 5:16 am, she took her own life.
"y/n was just five years old when natasha took her in. sixteen when....."
author's note: thankyouthankyouthankyou! my last post has gotten lotta love and i-i'm so fucking happy! i was so scared it would flop or worse, receive hate for the stupid writing but no!
to all those who reblogged it, THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH! i got so so happy when i saw you liked it enough to reblog it and ahhhh words cannot describe how much that helped push me forward to continue writing! mwah❤
to all those who liked it, THANKYOU! ❤ im so so happy and pleased that you enjoyed my writing! i smile seeing a new like even after a month or so for it being posted!
till then!
thankyou and goodbye ❤
