Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You were sitting on the floor of the living room, entertained by the toys that were scattered around you. You were already dressed in your pink Princess pajamas, your diaper freshly changed and your belly full of your mama's milk.
Natasha sat comfortably in a rocking armchair that used to be in your nursery–though it was too comfy and held way to many memories to keep in there forever. She rocked back and forth while reading a book that she hasn't been able to finish, always restarting from the very beginning.
It was peaceful, just the two of you inside your small apartment, warm and dry while outside was cold and wet.
But the rain suddenly turned into a storm, each droplet pounding against the windows as a bright flash of lightening lit up the entire room.
Before the low rumble of thunder could even reach your ears, you were climbing into Natasha's lap. Your body shook with fear as you nestled your head into the crook of her neck, wanting nothing but your mother's warmth and protection.
She chuckled, stroking your auburn hair as the thunder finally reached your ears. "малышка, look at me." (Baby girl)
You glanced up, your olive green orbs meeting her identical ones. "It can't hurt you, I promise."
You wiggled your way closer to your mother, clinging to her like a koala as the thunder progressively got louder.
A thick knitted cardigan was suddenly wrapped around you, the fabric similar to a blanket your grandmother knitted for you. You glanced up, smiling as your mother made sure you were completely covered by the large piece of clothing.
"All better?" She asked you, placing a soft kiss on your temple.
You nodded, digging your head into the cardigan, trying to block out the lightening. "Thank you mama."
Natasha continued to calm you, humming your favorite lullaby and stroking your silky hair. She rocked back in forth, hoping maybe you'll be able to fall asleep to the comforting motion.
The cardigan was gifted to her by Melina, and she knew one day the same cardigan would be yours.
___
You always find yourself reminiscing about the past where the relationship between you and your mother was still perfect–when it was still worth remembering.
Back when you were young and nothing could possibly tear you away from your mother. The only person who was truly around to protect and love you at all costs.
Though, that life had been thrown out the window the day you told Natasha you were pregnant. She was furious–but you couldn't blame her–you were only sixteen at the time.
You were hoping she'd actually be happy this time around, though your nerves were getting the better of you.
She was sitting on the couch, watching your son with a look of regret. She had only met James once and you could tell the little brown headed boy was growing on her, just as you did when you were born.
"Nana, look what mommy gave me!" He squealed happily, running up to Natasha with a nerf gun.
"Wow, it like just like the-"
"The one you got me for my sixth birthday." You finished her sentence, a look of hope lingering in your green orbs.
Natasha was looking at you with a sense of proudness, though she'd never admit it. She was amazed by how you were able to continue building your life by only going up. You were successful in your mother's eyes, marrying the man you loved since the beginning and continuing in her footsteps.
"You got one for yourself too." You continued, sharing the memory that you were so fond of. "We used to run around the apartment, trying to shoot each other down. You always won."
Tears brimmed your eyes as the memories continued to swirl your mind. The laughter of the both of you when a styrofoam bullet hit you, or the excited cheer when you finally hit your mother.
"Those were my favorite days." Natasha smiled.
You raised a brow. "It was nearly everyday."
"Exactly."
James looked between you and Natasha, smiling at the story. He asked Natasha for more stories about you when you were a kid and of course, she obliged.
You glanced over at Peter who was cooking dinner in the kitchen, giving you a nod of reassurance. You had told him that you wanted Natasha to be there for the birth of your second child, especially since she was there for James' birth.
Of course neither of you have talked or seen each other much since then, you still felt like you needed your mom.
You wrapped the cardigan around yourself tighter, but quickly let it hang loose upon seeing how big you actually were.
You wanted to tell Natasha during dinner not now.
Before going into the kitchen to help Peter with dinner, you reached up, tying your hair back into a pony tail.
"Детка?" Natasha asked, standing up from the couch. You looked over, still tying your hair up.
James bounced up as well, begging Natasha to continue her story about the first thunderstorm you remember.
"Y-Your pregnant." It was a statement, but she was really looking for confirmation–or denial.
Your cheeks flushed bright red–almost as red as your hair as you wrapped your arms around your protruding belly. "Y-yes?"
Silence.
Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted, but nothing was being said.
"A-are you mad?" You asked. It was a stupid question, you were an adult now.
"No, I-I just didn't expect you to be so far along." Natasha's voice broke as she realized her own daughter didn't feel safe to tell her the second she found out.
"Yeah, just a couple more weeks left until the little one arrives." You say with a slight smile, glancing back at Peter.
Natasha reached her hand out and placed it on your abdomen. She smiled through her tears. "Im here."
"What?"
"I'm here." She repeated. "Im not going anywhere. Not this time."
"Mom-"
"I mean it Y/n." She said, pulling you into a heartfelt hug. "I lost out on the last six years of your life. And I never made an effort with James. But I want to now, if that's okay with you?"
You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you snuggled deeper into your mother's touch. "I never went a day without wearing your cardigan."
Natasha laughed through her tears, wiping hers away as she leaned back to take a look. "After that night, I just knew this had to be yours."
"Thank you mama."
Natasha pulled you back in, kissing your temple and leaving her lips against your head. She stroked your hair just like she did when you were younger, the auburn red color now darker with more brown tones.
"I love you so much, моя милая девочка." (My sweet girl)
