Prosperous In Battle

1: Ottilie

NATASHA'S POV

Laying on the hard bed in the dark, damp cell I rested my hand on my bump it filled me with happiness feeling their little kick against my hand. I could only pray for them to be a boy, so they could escape beginning turned into one of us. A Black Widow. Sounds cool, fun maybe. But it's not. It's hell. 

This baby inside of me is a result of Hell. As if having all your reproductive system ripped away wasn't enough they put me through pregnancy too... and not one of consent either. This was a brutal attack. To make him feel stronger, more powerful. All I wanted to do was hurt him, kill him even and send him to a miserable end but of course, I couldn't kill him, no he has something on us, he stops us from fighting against him. I haven't worked it out yet but I will. I'm not having this be my life. It can't be and it won't be the life of the child that I had growing inside of me. 

"You still hoping for a boy?" Dreykov said stood at the cell bars. I sat up and looked at him with a stone-cold look.  His cold eyes looking back at me with a smug grin. He did this to me and there's nothing I can do to change it. He did this to lots of girls. Girls that's right. I was barely 18 I doubt he'd stop at that age. He's a controlling abusive misogynistic man who deserves the worse end, yet everyone that knows can't do a thing about it. "Speak Natasha, it's polite." "Yes," I tell him firmly, he wasn't to know I fared him. He was just a pig of a man after all.

"Well, I have some news for you." He held a small paper of some sort, a picture, an ultrasound to be exact. My heart sunk, it wasn't good news I could tell that by the look on his face. We could have found out the gender weeks ago why he waited so long I don't know. Maybe to torture me with the thought of it. "Good news." He smirked. No... Please God No. I prayed to the lord above for it to be wrong. I knew what he was going to tell me and the minute she was born I know she'd be theirs, they'd take her from me. Raise her in the Red Room, ruin her innocent mind. Please God, fix this. Let him be toying with me. "It's a little girl Natasha..." I felt the walls around me closing in as I stared in front of him, he laughed at me. I couldn't build up the strength to say anything or look away. He pushed the photo through the bars and let it flutter through the air for a brief second before it landed gracefully on the floor. 

"We'll be taking her the minute you have her." His big heavy boots hit the floor the sound echoing down the corridor it got quieter and quieter as he left and the heavy doors slammed shut. I backed up against the grey wall and slid down bring my legs as close as I could to my chest before letting out sobs. Why? Why did you have to be a girl? 

I had to get rid of it. I had to. I couldn't let her go through this, no, I wouldn't. But I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it. To hurt her. I want to protect her. And to protect her I have to hurt her and I just couldn't. I couldn't. I kept going around in this loop sending myself completely crazy. 

I stayed on the cell floor for hours... I didn't have the strength to drag myself to my bed, not that it was any more comfortable than the floor. It was practically made from the same thing anyway. I was having a little girl. Typically women would be thrilled the day they found out what gender their child was but me I felt my world crashing and burning. The only hope I had for her was she was a he and that hope shirveled up and disappeared.

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It was happening. Right here, Right now. In this dull theatre my baby. My little girl was being brought into a world of pain. A future of numbness. I tried to fight against the restraints on my wrist and ankles but it only made them tighter and more painful the harsh cold metal cutting into my delicate skin. "Please don't do this." I sobbed. I couldn't feel my legs now, the medication doing its things numbing me from the waist down so they can go and cut me open until there was nothing left inside me. "Please. She's a child!" I screamed. "If you don't shut up, we'll put you to sleep. No. No. If they did that I wouldn't get to see her. I wouldn't get to know what she looked like. Would she have my nose or his? Would she have my eyes or his? Would she be him or me? His or mine. I needed to know so I went quiet, the begging was falling on deaf ears anyway.