The closest thing to a daughter

Season 3 Episode 20

Neither of them had felt romantic devotion at that moment, the only thing was their grief and the accompanying way of dealing with it. "What are you guys doing here?" came Steve's voice from behind them, and as if they had been caught doing something personal, they jumped apart. "It's almost 3 o'clock in the night you should get some rest and go to bed," Natasha replied leaning right next to him on the door frame. "You're such a mom," Abigail replied from behind the protective wall she had built in seconds, hiding her emotion and wiping her tears from her cheeks. In fact, all four of them went to bed, with Romanoff spending the night soothing her charge enough to drift off into a more or less restful sleep.

"Morning Kid," Steve's voice greeted her the next morning as she stumbled down the stairs far too late and even sleepier than yesterday. "Hey," she mumbled back, settling down on the barstool. Seconds later, Natasha entered the room wearing a black shirt and holding a leather jacket. "Can we work out?" asked Abigail, earning a suspicious look from the three others present. It was her way of distracting herself from constantly seeing the images in front of her eyes. To do anything other than watch Wanda and Danny die in front of her. "Have you had breakfast yet?" asked Natasha the counter question, watching every muscle in her face to detect any lies in it. She didn't lie but she didn't like the answer any better, "No I'm not really hungry."

With a leap she jumped up from the stool and was halfway out the door when she was held back by a hand. "You need to eat something," the latter insisted, blocking the door by switching positions with Abigail. "But I'm not hungry. Can we please just go work out now?" Natasha sighed but finally agreed with her decision. "Fine, come with me."

First, they trained with her abilities to create fire with her bare hands. And by now that was no longer an obstacle, the obstacle was also being able to bring those flames back under control and manipulate them. The rehearsals took place in a room permeated with metal so as not to accidentally burn down the entire headquarters. No one of them would be able to cope with another catastrophe. At first it went very well and Abigail managed to hit and burn all the fabric targets, but the emotion got the better of her and Natasha stopped the rehearsals. After a short breather, the brave redhead faced off against the Black Widow and did not do too badly by her standards there either. But not without reason Abigail had been only the second best graduate of the Red Room, because without her powers, which of course she didn't use against Nat, she had no chance against the blonde-haired one.

They had been fighting for quite some time when Younger began to get reckless and eventually stumbled to the ground. Elegantly Natasha grabbed the petite body of her fighting partner and prevented a painful impact. "Hey, come on, let's take a break," Tasha suggested, holding her hand anxiously in hers. "No, I'm fine," Abigail objected, wrapping her legs around her head to bring her down. But no one could use Nat's iconic combo attack against herself. It hadn't worked when Abi had been under the influence of the Red Room, and it wasn't working now.

She deftly took advantage of the redhead's momentum and instead knocked her to the mat. "I mean it, Abigail! You're going to pass out!" Stubbornly, she tried to throw the older one off of her, but she failed against Natasha she just didn't stand a chance. "I won't!" she protested still unwilling to admit her failure and kept trying. "That's enough for today," Romanoff ordered, pulling the little one to her feet. "What, no!" Without listening to her protests, Nat took her by the arm to the exit. "Come on we'll get you something to eat."

In the kitchen, Natasha gathered everything she needed to prepare her famous peanut butter sandwich for Abigail. Even then, she had discovered her fondness for her sandwich even late at night, and if one thing could make her eat, it was this. "Here's one of my famous peanut butter sandwiches," she announced, thrusting the plate into her hand. Out it brought from the younger one, however, only a sigh and a questioning "Thank you?"

"Come on, try a little bite," Natasha tried to coax her, but Abigail only eyed the plate in front of her tensely. Only when Nat took a bite of the sandwich herself to help her eat independently did a small smile steal onto her lips. "Your turn." With shaky hands, she reached for a half and took a small bite. "Good job."