The Trial of Bruce Banner

Mom Mode

Natasha bites at her inner cheek on one side and then the other, watching Rebecca play solo with her hulk plush in hand.

She lays against the doorframe and lets her head fall to the side, somewhat envious of her daughter's oblivious state.

Rebecca looks up, batting her eyelashes. Natasha dreads the question despite being prepared for it;

"Where's daddy?"

Natasha lifts her head. She crouches down and lifts the plush to resume the imaginary game.

"He's working late this month,' she lies so easily, 'daddy has a big project coming up with Uncle Tony."

"But,' Rebecca sits back, completely unconvinced, 'it's bedtime."

"And I can tell just as good of a story if not better," Natasha tucks her hands under her daughters arms and lifts her up into the guest bed.

Rebecca reaches toward the hulk Natasha grabs with a toe. She tosses it with her foot and lays the plush next to her daughter with a lifting of the blanket.

She snorts to herself and crosses her arms, "Are you ready for this skazki?"

Rebecca nods with a grin full of anticipation.

"There once was a spy,' Natasha lifts a knee and rotates to face her daughter, 'who was saved by an archer-."

"Uncle Clint."

"Don't interrupt me,' Romanoff lectures playfully, 'this is just the pre-story to a crazier one that begins in Kolkata. Now, you shush and listen."

"Mm," Rebecca rolls her eyes and sinks with equally playful sass.

* * * * * * * * * *

Natasha steps out groggy the morning of, blinding accepting a mug from Laura Barton with her eyes on the television.

She inhales sharply and checks over her shoulder before stepping closer.

"How did you sleep?" Laura asks as she wipes down the kitchen table.

Natasha tugs at her long tee and sinks slowly onto the sofa, eyes unwavering from the screen.

"Don't watch that," Laura's voice comes in one ear and out the other.

The spy ignores her warning and fixates with a bite on her lower lip.

The words 'criminal' and 'murder' shouldn't be spoken in connection with the mugshot of her beloved spouse.

Natasha hugs herself and sips the coffee.

"...he is being represented by his cousin and renowned lawyer Jennifer Walters-." She scoffs audibly over the reporter.

Laura's rustling the click the remote's power button happens all too late.

"I'm sorry. How's your coffee," her hand falls.

Natasha switches the bitter drink through her teeth and swallows a gulp that burns her throat in the process.

Laura sighs audibly and circles the room to meet Natasha on the sofa in the living space. The cushion jumps upon her arrival, causing Romanoff to stare somewhere other than a black circle of coffee in her mug.

"It matches his eyes," Natasha mumbles, lifting the cup.

Laura scoffs, "You're spiraling."

"I'm fine."

"Becca is asleep, Clint is working,' Laura shrugs, 'and my kids are in school. Talk to me."

Natasha shakes her head 'no', sinking back as she knocks back gulp after gulp until her drink is gone.

She sits up and reaches only to leave the mug on a hand crafted wooden table;

"I need something stronger-."

"Natasha," Barton clasps her fingers and spares an empathic glance, "What do you need?"

"-I need my husband," Natasha blurts out with unwavering eye contact until she finds her fingernails, "I need Bruce."

Laura shuts her eyes and reopens them to find her friend's, "You know what I'm asking."

"And I answered you,' she pulls herself upright as if it's a chore, 'I need him. It's not that I'm unappreciative, I'm grateful. For a bed, for coffee, for a roof. For the support but-...dammit Laura you've been away from Clint before, don't act like you've forgotten what it's like to..."

Laura scoffs, running a hand through her hair, "Panic? Plan what life would be like as a single mother?"

Natasha swallows once more.

"I know what it's like to have your spouse arrested...or did you forget that Clint has been behind bars before?"

Romanoff keeps her eyes low, "I didn't mean it in that way."

"I relate to you because I know exactly what it's like to have a spouse tried for murder with a dependent baby sharing your space. Try three," Laura scoffs.

Natasha grips her shirt, "I'm sorry."

"You're doing, everything right in protecting her,' she points with half a grin, 'but you need to protect yourself. If you run out of hope, she will too. You need to stay energized. You need to keep yourself strong. And that, is where we come in. So cut the shit and use me. Use Clint...Lean on us. You are not alone. So stop acting as if this battle is one you have to fight independently."

Natasha's lip quivers when she looks at Laura. She blinks, eyes glistening with the tears she's fighting to hold back. The Russian rubs an eye and looks toward the dark television;

"on ne vernetsya domoy-."

"Don't say that."

"He thinks he's protecting Becks."

Laura waits patiently while Natasha holds her chest and tries to breathe.

"He said she's the only thing that matters,' Romanoff resumes calmly, 'he's doing this to take the heat off of her. They won't stop, Laura. Not when they've hunted us for years. And now that they have him they won't just let us win. If this is what my life is destined to become after fighting so hard for normalcy...k chertu eto."

Laura nods, maintaining space after Natasha spat. She waits patiently before whispering, "Thank you for talking. I know that wasn't easy."

Natasha looks over her shoulder as Clint enters the house. She props a foot up on the desk and hugs herself tighter.

Laura scoots closer, checking her watch, "We need a plan."

"I'm out of ideas. If Jen can't figure this out and he's going to be stubborn about it."

"For breakfast, Natasha. Becks will be up soon."

Natasha sighs before recollecting herself and nodding as she slips back into 'mom' mode.