The Trial of Bruce Banner

Just Breathe

Natasha bites her fingernail after ending a call with Clint, dreading the one she knows she needs to hold with Tony or at least with Pepper.

A text message of 'thanks' does nothing to demonstrate her genuine appreciation for the constant check-ins, meal train, and request to visit.

"Natasha?" Alexei pounds on the door.

"In a minute!" Natasha yells back.

"It's morning! You must rise. Your mother made food."

"Oh,' she swallows, 'is Becks okay?"

Alexei chuckles from behind the door, "She is perfect."

Natasha tilts, "Hopefully, you read her a childproof story last night?"

"Can I enter?"

She scans the room, sitting on her bed covered in crumpled tissues and still in her pajamas, "No. Did she sleep with Yelena?"

"Like innocent baby she is."

Natasha huffs, "She loves her Tetya."

Alexei groans, "Natasha...! You must stand. You must not show weakness."

"Not now!"

"You must hear this!" He sighs, "When I was young, my father take me camping-."

"Don't! Stop talking. Please-."

"When I go to prison-."

"-You DESERVED prison!"

Natasha immediately regrets her words in the silence that follows, slapping the pillow against her face repeatedly.

"She needs her mother," Romanoff hears Alexei mumbling, and his removing himself from the door only adds to her grief.

"Dad? Dad, wait," Natasha realizes her voice is too weak too late.

Melina enters in her nightgown after a brief jiggle at the lock.

The once-redhead sits back and drops the pillow onto her chest, hugging it close.

"How is my brave girl?" Melina questions, sitting on her bedside and brushing her cheek.

"I'm fine."

"Oh,' Melina nods, 'are you fine when Tetya bathe and read baby stories?"

Natasha regrets missing a night with her daughter, clasping her fingers together.

"Light will help," Melina heads for the blinds.

"Don't!" Natasha warns.

The older woman gasps over the lightning she reveals by pulling back the curtain, "Such intensity."

"Welcome to Scotland," Natasha huffs.

Melina looks down at the bed, lifting one crumpled tissue...and then a second, and a third;

"I raise my girls to be strong."

"Yeah, well. Not that I don't appreciate it, but uh,' Natasha rolls her eyes, 'My husband spent years teaching me that emotions should be felt, not suppressed."

Melina pauses in utter offense, gasping with a glare, "That is not what I say. Crying is normal human response."

"I feel anything but normal."

"You will," Melina reaches for a fourth tissue to dump on her empty waste basket, "It is human to be tired."

"Human,' Natasha checks her fingernails, 'something I was once forced to forfeit. You'd think I'd be stronger by now."

"You are strong," Melina sighs and settles on the edge of her bed.

"I'll be fine. I need-."

"No. No more minute,' she rolls her eyes, 'minute turn into 962 minutes."
"Okay."

"Get up."

"Alright!" Natasha throws her pillow, "You want me up?! I'm up."

"Not for me,' Melina remains serious in her tone, 'for the baby."

She stands, facing Romanoff, as her head tilts once more.

"That precious baby,' she elaborates, 'Rebecca needs you. You stay strong, Natasha."

The spy sinks into her hip with her vision fading, "I could lose her next. Either by some psycho scientist who uses the law to take her, or...she gets too sick for a cure. Either way, I lose."

Melina smiles, "My darling girl, My feelings when you and Yelena, when we were in Ohio. Knowing the only girls I would have, you, Yelena, could be taken."

She bites her lip, "...How did it feel?"

"...too long of time to realize, that, you,' Melina steps forward, 'were worth my heart. No matter how long I had you as mine."

Natasha leans into her mother's hand on her cheek as she holds it steady;

"Thank you."

She looks over as if to check her 'work' phone, eyebrows lowering with caution over an incoming call from an unknown number.

"Answer it," Melina advises fiercely.

"I don't touch this phone unless I'm on a mission."

"If it is bad guy, we will kill bad guy."

Natasha's face drops. She answers immediately, relieved over the prompts.

Melina takes her nonverbal cue and takes the waste basket outside with her.

"Tasha?"

The spy sinks to her bed, a hand over her mouth, when she hears his voice.

"Bruce," she answers, listening to his breathing falter.

"Natasha. I'm sorry, I had to..."

Her eyes close, "It's okay."

"It's not. I miss you," he confesses softly.

She holds her head and inhales, "I missed your voice."

"I heard you went out for a drive with Jen this morning. Sorry about the press."

Natasha squints, immediately agreeing with his tone, "Yeah."

Romanoff reaches for her other phone instinctually, checking the weather, and scans for Jen's location to comprehend his vaguely referenced diversion better.

"We're home now,' she plays along, 'you know they don't get a word out of me."

Natasha knows Bruce well enough to assume he's grinning over that, even if only in his eyes.

"You're okay, Tasha," he answers.

"I'd be better with you."

"I love you," he says with raw emotion.

Natasha drops the mouthpiece to bite her lip and pinch her thigh, "You want to ask about Becks."

"I do but. I don't trust the call...I know she's home, with you...She's where she belongs."

Bruce has never been good at lying or spewing a prepared dialogue. But she senses sincerity in his last statement.

Nodding, Natasha cuts him off, "We don't have to talk. Just breathe with me until they cut your line?"

"...okay. Whatever you want, Natasha."

"That's what I want," she hums, content to hear Bruce without the lies.

In no rush to become Black Widow, she feels equally herself, allowed to melt to the sound of her heartbeat and a reminder of his.