Prosperous In Battle

7: Robot

3rd Person pov

Ottilie had been taken back to the red room. After her mum had spent all these years encouraging her to break free of the rules of the red room she had been finding it hard to slot back into life there. 

She could do everything they were asking but she didn't want to. She was asking why. Why did she have to do? And she was grieving her mother too. She was being physically dragged out of bed but guards and almost drowned in the showers she was being forced to take. She was practically a bag of limbs. She didn't want to fight or move or dance. She just laid on the floor and every time they put her on her feet she'd sit back on the floor. 

This resulted in a beating after beating for her but it didn't seem to be affecting her. She was the same. She didn't care anymore. She secretly prayed they'd beat her to death. Maybe then she'll see her mum again. That's all she wanted. Was to be with her mum. 

Meanwhile, Natasha was doing everything in her power to get her back. She had made it to Russia, The Avengers following her scared of what she was willing to sacrifice to get her daughter back. They were there to help and pull her back in when she was going to go too far. But it's hard to tell a mother when they're going too far. It's her daughter after all and she didn't plan on stopping until she had Ottilie back in her arms again. 

"Natasha. Natasha, what's your location?" Clint asked over the radio. No response. "Natasha," Rogers asked firmly. They had the perimeter surrounded, Natasha disappeared around 10 minutes ago and no one has eyes or ears on her and apparently, she doesn't care either because she's not responding. 

----

"Natasha..." She turned around at the familiar voice. "Where is she?" She asked firmly, she wasn't scared of him anymore. She was sick of feeling scared around him. The way her daughter flinched when he pretended to hit her lit something in me. she should be protecting her. 

NATASHA'S POV

"Who?" "My daughter." "You mean our Little Swan." "She's no part of you." "Oh, but she is every part of me." He says, he pulled up a tab on the screen, a camera, CCTV. My sweet girl. I see her in the training room alone, knife in hand going through a series of moves, fighting against the fact threats that are a mechanical stimulus. "A year Natasha, that's all it took to reverse all the things you did to her." He tapped the screen. "She was soft when we brought her back home." "This isn't her home." "But it is." He pressed a button and the 'threats' in the room began moving faster. She was quick on her feet she hit every target with ease. She was a robot, she was trained to do this, it was programmed in her brain, she knew the computers move before the computer did she was twenty steps ahead. 

"The first few weeks she wouldn't get out of bed. She even cried. We of course couldn't have her be soft so... you know how we handle that." They beat her. "And we dealt with it every single day." He said it slow and clear so I understood his words. I tried to keep my stance strong and my face firm. "You know she is stubborn. Asks a lot of questions. It took a while to get her back in line but then one day it all just fell into place. She got out of bed, she showered, she went to class and she proved to everyone she was the top of her class." He told me. "She killed two girls on her first day back in class." He tapped away and brought up the footage. She looked so bruised she was struggling to breathe probably from the pain of a broken rib, Her face didn't even look like her. It was purple mostly and cut up. And then she killed them like it was nothing. It was like some switch flicked in her head. She flipped. She became what they wanted her to become. She killed two people. 

"She's me, Natasha. And she's going to best you one day. And they'll be nothing you can do about it." He reminded me, my eyes were fixed to the screen, watching her fight. "What did you do to her?"