I'm Sorry | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 17: Date

An: More of a filler chapter. My beef with wattpad still isn't over. This chapter was originally 20k words of fluff and the world just decided against me so i threw this together so you guys had something.

Ps. This is for my taylor fans HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THE COWBOY LIKE ME WORK JACKET 😭 120$ for that I am mourning my lost. I should've bought it.

For Natasha, this whole evening was surreal—refreshing, but strange. She had spent so much time fighting Inferno, struggling through Jenna's defenses, that seeing Jenna open, vulnerable, and unguarded felt almost like she was meeting a new person. After dinner, while others trickled out with their goodbyes, Natasha stayed, feeling Jenna's hand clasped firmly in hers, never letting go; Even at the table, she hadn't let go, making Natasha awkwardly eat with one hand, an inconvenience she didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, Jenna hadn't let her go all night; she'd been practically glued to her parents and to Natasha, trailing close to Sarah and David as if moving more than a few feet away would break the fragile spell holding them together.

Jenna's eyes held a quiet, almost childlike reverence as she followed her parents around. She was hiding the fear that if she looked away or let go, they would disappear.

She would be back in that darkness again. All alone.

It struck Natasha, watching her, just how much of that persona—the taunts, the sarcasm, the bravado—had been a wall Jenna used to keep people at a safe distance.

Now, with that wall gone, Jenna was just... herself. Unfiltered, raw, and searching for reassurance in every little detail. Natasha realized this was the Jenna she had been fighting to reach all along. The one she saw tonight didn't hold back her affection or her anxiety; she wasn't trying to pretend to be tough or indifferent. She was clinging to her parents' warmth, to Natasha's presence, to every reminder that she wasn't alone.

They sat together on the couch, the four of them, watching some old sitcom reruns like they were any other family, wrapped in a rare quiet that seemed to settle over them like a blanket. Natasha couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so relaxed. Sarah and David were on either side of Jenna, who had squeezed herself between them, Natasha found herself perched a bit further down on Sarah's side of the couch, awkwardly leaning over to hold Jenna's hand, which Jenna had stubbornly refused to let go of. Her arm stretched across the back of the couch, her fingers entwined with Jenna's in a way that left Natasha feeling uncomfortably self-conscious; their hands were now resting right on top of Sarah's lap. Natasha tried to discreetly readjust, but each time she shifted even an inch, Jenna tightened her hold, sending her a subtle, almost pleading look that said she wasn't about to release her grip.

David raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin of his own as he settled back into his spot on the couch.

Natasha didn't mind the slight awkwardness, though. She'd handle far more than an uncomfortable stretch across the couch if it meant Jenna felt safe and grounded. And though she couldn't quite explain it, Natasha found comfort in Jenna's touch too—a quiet reassurance that the chaos was, finally, easing.

As the night grew later, Natasha noticed Jenna's head beginning to tilt as her eyes drifted closed, lulled by the warmth of her parents, the softness of the TV's glow, and the gentle quiet.

Eventually, Sarah and David began to stir. David stretched and let out a quiet yawn, looking over at his wife with a sleepy smile. "It's getting late" he murmured, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

As they started to rise, Jenna's eyes snapped open, and she gripped her mother's arm, her voice cracking just slightly. "Are you guys... leaving?" she asked, trying to keep her tone steady. Natasha felt Jenna's grip tighten, and a flicker of panic flashed across Jenna's face, disappearing so quickly that only Natasha seemed to notice it.