Natasha Romanoff x Daughter Oneshots

Sober pt. 2

Age: 15
Warnings: swearing, drinking, talk of abuse, puke
Word Count: 2193

Natasha was a wreck, getting worse each day. She couldn't comprehend it–the fact that she had hurt you. It scared her knowing that it's happened more than once–and she couldn't remember it.

She wanted to get better, she really did. But she couldn't handle her thoughts–each one reminding her that she had been abusive.

So instead, she picked up a bottle of vodka–and another–until it turned into another routine of drinking away her problems.

This was better.

That's what she continued to tell herself. It allowed you to grow, unharmed by your mother and that's all she wanted.

She couldn't even compare how much she missed you, especially when you were always the only thing that mattered to her. But she was afraid to be around you, to see you even.

You were too precious to her and she had hurt you in more ways than one.

___

It had been two weeks since the incident, two weeks since you've talked with your mother. A part of you wanted to believe she had immediately gotten help but you knew your mother.

She never needs help.

She has everything under control.

You didn't want to admit it, but you were scared to see her. You were scared to go near her again–even if she was sober.

It was something you had to get used to again.

"I need to go home." You informed your aunt, your eyes never leaving the bowl of cereal in front of you.

"What?" Yelena was taken aback, her eyes widening slightly. "Absolutely not."

"She's my mom."

"And she's my sister." She replied smartly. "What's your point?"

You sighed, placing your spoon in the bowl. "I just think she needs someone to help pick her up and, you know, get her on the right track."

"She's a big girl, she is perfectly capable of helping herself." Yelena said with a sour tone. "It's whether she wants to or not."

"I know, but-"

Yelena shook her head, "No, you're not going home until she gets help. She's been unstable for too long and I should have taken you out of there years ago."

You groaned, unhappy with your aunt's answer. "She doesn't ask for help, you know that!"

"So?"

"What makes you think she's going to ask a rehab center for help?" You question forcefully.

Yelena shrugged, "You."

You gave her a quizzical look, raising a brow as a hint for elaboration.

"You mean everything to her." Yelena explained, thinking over her words carefully. "She doesn't want this life for you, she never did. She knows she needs the help."

You nodded, staring down at your half eaten cereal as you attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. You missed your mom and you wished you could do something more to help her.

"I still need to get my stuff from home." You whisper. Your voice was untrustworthy, wavering with emotion.

Yelena sighed, nodding. "We'll go together. I am not allowing you in that house by yourself."