New beginnings (Natasha/you age regression)

3

You watch warily as Natasha sits down next to you with a lined notebook and pen in her grasp. You'd both eaten, Natasha having had fed you the entire thing, and after coaxing your reluctant frame to the couch, she'd decided that it was now time to talk.

You weren't naive as some may say, or dumb for that matter, so you knew exactly what she wanted to talk about and it was taking everything in you not to run.

"Okay," Natasha softly clears her throat, "so I need to know at least somewhat of what's going on, so I'm going to ask you some questions and I'm going to need you to try your best to answer them." She explains as she gently places the notebook and pen onto your lap, and you eye the foreign objects for a second before just barely nodding your head.

"If anything's off limits right now, tell me. But we will have to discuss them eventually." She adds, and you nod again as you pick the pen, your grasp loose and somewhat awkward.

"I'd like to know your name and age." She starts, and figuring that was easy enough, you awkwardly scrawl both your name and age onto the top line.

If Natasha notices your barely legible handwriting, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she nods, "Y/n and you've just turned eighteen. Okay, that's great. What about family?"

You instinctively freeze, but you force your hand to scrawl a messy no, just beneath your name and age.

"No? Okay," Natasha mutters as she crosses one leg over the other and lets out a quiet sigh. "Um, I'm guessing that means you don't have a home either?" Her words were nice enough, but there was an undertone of knowing in her voice which made you feel awfully uneasy.

Again, you simply tap the no, written above, and Natasha once again nods her head. She seems to think for a second before once again bringing her attention back to you. You were only able to make eye contact for a few short seconds before fear has you ripping your eyes away. You don't hear Natasha complain.

"Why..." Natasha seems stuck, and you silently will for her to completely forget what she was going to say. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on your side. "What happened?"

You swallow heavily, your words in the notebook blurring together to make one big mess. Not wanting to make her mad, you blink -ignoring the two tears that trail down your cheeks, and pick up the pen again.

Natasha watches as you write, taking the notebook when you look her way signalling you were done.
Despite the hardly legible print and many spelling errors littering the paragraph, she was, thankfully, able to make out what it said.

Mi parints frew me out wen i was 16. the diddnt want me nemor.

"They threw you out? Why?" She asks with a small frown as she looks back up at you.

By now, your head felt cloudy, and you could feel your heart hammering so heavily in your chest if felt like it might fall out. You attempt to knock it away, but it only proceeds to grow. Oh god. No. It couldn't happen now. You look up and see Natasha glancing at you with concern, and that's all it takes.

Suddenly, you had caved in on yourself, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. Eyes wide with alarm, Natasha places the paper and pen down and awkwardly tugs you into her arms. Her grasp couldn't be less maternal if she tried, but you don't seem to notice as you continue to sob into her chest, your hands covering your face in what she could only guess was embarrassment.

"It's okay, you're okay." She desperately attempts to sooth, but you don't seem to hear her. In fact, your cries seem to grow in volume, sounding cracked, hoarse and painful, and she throws her head back slightly in pure frustration as she tightens her hold around you.

"Fuck." She mutters beneath her breath as she cups the back of your head, her other rubbing soothing circles across the length of your back. "Please, y/n. It's okay. I'm sorry." She somewhat pleads, but you simply hiccup, a choking sound escaping your lips as you try and fail to catch your breath.

Not knowing what else to do, she lets instinct take ahold and slips an arm beneath your legs before all but hauling you onto her lap. You barley weighed anything, but you were limp and floppy so manoeuvring you was slightly difficult. After getting you situated, she leans against the back of the couch with your upper body resting against her own. Your face had come to rest against her chest, just beneath her chin.

You seem to quieten slightly at the embrace, and despite feeling a little uncomfortable -Natasha had never been too fond of physical touch, she was grateful you had begun to calm down.

"You're okay," she murmurs as she continues with the soothing motions across your back, "I've got you."

You continue to tremble against her, but your cries had now reduced to soft sniffles. Your hands had left your face, and you were now clinging tightly to the material of her shirt, your cheeks red and blotchy with the residue of your tears.

Natasha presses her lips to the top of your head, allowing instinct alone to help guid her into soothing you. She was clueless otherwise. She'd never had the need to comfort someone so intimately, and after her past, she didn't think she'd ever get the opportunity to do so. So whilst she felt a little...uncomfortable, she did have to admit holding someone felt kind of nice.

It was obvious now -as she holds your trembling frame in her arms, that you'd been abandoned, if not neglected also, and all you had needed was simply some comfort. She was glad she was able to give you that, even if that meant she was suffering somewhat herself.

"You're okay." She murmurs again as she reaches for the other blanket on the back of the couch so she could tug it up to cover your legs that were now littered with goosebumps. She futilely attempts to ignore the many brushes littering your skin as she tucks the blanket beneath your back to keep it from slipping, but to no avail.

What on earth had happened to you?

You thankfully fall limp against her eventually, and as she looks down, she see's that your eyes were now closed signalling that you were either asleep, or close to it. Terrified of causing more tears, Natasha stays glued to the couch until she could absolutely be sure that you wouldn't wake up.

With a small sigh, she lays her head down on the back of the couch. When she woke up this morning, she had absolutely no idea that her day would turn out like this. Well, who would? She wasn't one to help people. She wasn't one to go out of her way to take in a homeless person such as yourself, and it sounded selfish but it was true. In todays world, there were dangers everywhere you turn. Especially if you were a woman such as she was.

She stuck to herself because she was the only one she could rely on. People never came to her for help, and vice versa, and that's just how it was.

Stumbling upon you had been...not necessarily a mistake, but an accident. Inviting you to stay was something even she was shocked by. When the words had left her lips, she'd immediately wanted to take them back but when that innocent, yet hopeful look had appeared on your face, she had promptly zipped her mouth shut, stomach bubbling with regret.

She didn't dislike you, she just didn't know you and having someone she didn't know in her home made her skin crawl. But, as she stares down at you, a part of her was willing to admit she'd made the right choice.

It would only be for a little while, and then she could continue on like normal where you would be just a memory.

She waits a further ten minutes before she decides that it would be okay to move you, and with a small huff, she was on her feet with your small frame cradled in her arms. You immediately stir at the change of position, and Natasha finds herself holding her breath as she stands stock still.

Thankfully, you don't wake up, and she lets out a quiet breath of relief as she quietly makes her way down the hall towards the spare room. She kicks the door open with her foot and enters, tentatively easing you down onto the bed before pulling the blankets up to cover you. The queen sized bed drowns you, making you seem even smaller than you were, and with a soft huff of amusement, Natasha gives your shoulder a soft touch of acknowledgement before backing up and leaving the room.

**

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