Scarlett Johansson/Natasha Romanoff X Daughter Oneshots

N.R | Sorrow. pt 2

Your age: 16

Natasha's age: 32

Prompt: read the request cuz I'm wayyyyy to lazy to write all that out again lol

—

I've been in here for two weeks. Two weeks.

I don't even try to escape, because I know that if I do I won't have anywhere to go to. Dreykov would probably have me killed if I escape. No, I'm going to stay here and act like I wanted to leave. Then I'm gonna send all the information I learn to Dreykov,

"Hey kid." Natalia says as she enters my cell.

In her hand is a tray of food with two sandwiches and a book. Whilst I've been locked in here, I've started reading a lot. Even though English is hard sometimes, reading is a nice escape from the reality I'm forced to live in.

"Hello." I reply as always.

She smiles gently as she takes a seat on the bed next to me. The tray she's brought with her is lifted towards me. She and I both know that if I don't get to chose, I won't eat. Safety first.

As we both chew in silence, I can't help but look at the book that is now lying next to her.

'Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone.'

I've always wanted to read Harry Potter, but I've never had the chance.

Natalia notices that I'm looking and hands me the book.

"Thanks." I mutter, placing the book in my lap and opening it.

I almost feel grateful towards her, which is weird.

"Listen, (Y/N)." Natalia clears her throat and shifts in her seat. "I have some updates regarding your situation."

That's one way to put it.

"We are going to test your DNA in search of a special kind of serum that Dreykov uses on special widows."

Uhm okay?

I nod thoughtfully, not really caring. They've tested me for like three different things these two weeks, but this seems to be different. Natalia seems nervous, only a little but still.

"Okay."

—

Natalia is my mother.

It's obvious now that I look at it from a different perspective.

We share the same nose, hair color, eyes and face shape.

I heard her talking to some 'Bruce' guy outside of my cell.
She knew before I did.

The moment she enters my cell, I pounce on her. My hands ball into fists as I slam them into her body. I scream, but I'm not sure why. My punches are messy, sloppy. I'm the best assassin the academy has ever produced, I'm never sloppy.
Except for today.

"Kid, stop." She grunts, making me punch her even harder. But she doesn't fight me back.

"You traitor!" I scream, wrapping my hands firmly around her throat. "You left me!"

We both fall to the floor, me on top of her.

Rage consumes me, a warm dark matter coursing through my veins. It's as dark as polar night. Endless and deep. And it consumes me.

"I hate you!" I roar, ugly tears now coating my cheeks. I never cry. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

I'm slamming her head against the tiled floor, over and over again. My fingers constrict around her throat. She's gasping for air. It makes me hate her even more. I want her to hurt the way I hurt.
I want her to feel the way I feel.
I want her to die.
No, I need her to die.