❝these were the women who knitted pain into glory❞
[COMPLETED]
[marvel cinematic universe]
[alternate universe]
[natasha romanoff]
[SO MANY WORDING ERRORS BUT I CBA TO FIX THEM RN]
BAD BITCH ❝these were the women who knitted pain into glory❞
18. Resurrecting the Dead
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February 2017
❝You said she was gone.❞ Svetlana croaked out, trying desperately to rein in her own emotions, and the whole room was silenced as she threw the document at Natasha in defeat. Madame B simply smiled from the chair in which she had been tied to in the other room as though she knew that she'd ruined Svetlana's life. She looked down at the photograph on the file and knew exactly what it was. A photo of a baby. There were multiple photos, all showing as the baby grew into a child and as the child grew into a teenager, and it was undeniable. The resemblance was too close. James, still slightly dazed but glad to be safe again, had stood by the strange woman and looked over her shoulder despite her flinching away. Natasha couldn't even begin to try and look Bucky in the eye, let alone Svetlana, as she began to realise just how little the man knew. Just from his vacant eyes, filled with confusion, Natasha knew he didn't had a clue who the young teen was. She didn't regret her decision. Even as she turned her face up to look into her lover's heartbroken eyes, she didn't even feel a glimmer of regret at what she'd done all those years ago. Just looking at the most recent photo, taken only a month previous, was enough for her to feel okay. The smile on the girl's face, surrounded by friends, only showed that she'd had the best childhood that Svetlana could have ever unconsciously offered for her. ❝I never said she was dead, Svet.❞ Natasha ground out.
'Natalia had gotten it out without problem. She'd had the common sense enough to not cut too deep and had cauterised the wound with a lighter. The sounds of Svetlana's screams would haunt her forever but she hadn't thrashed about. Everything had gone fine.
It was just that neither had predicted for it to take a breath. It had been seven months. Too early. Yet it took a breath - and didn't stop. Natalia had taken it, holding it in her arms, and watched as it lived.
She took the knife and slit its throat.'
Except that's not what had happened.
'Natalia Romanova had looked down at the child, both covered in Svetlana's blood and her own tears, and was reminded of that father. The father whose son Svetlana had shot in the back of the head and she couldn't bring herself to kill another innocent child that day. She knew she couldn't even possibly try to raise the child alone, at least whilst she was still under the rule of Hydra, but she also knew that she couldn't kill it either. She took the knife and slit its umbilical cord. ❝It's fine - I'm going to do what our mothers never could. I'm going to get you out of here.'
