✪ CHAPTER FIVE ✪

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"Beg for forgiveness for making you cry"
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Chapter 5: Try again
Clint paced back and forth in front of a tired Fury and a weary Natasha.

"Clint, as much as I understand your agitation, my Persian rug does not deserve to be worn down in this manner." Fury said in a snarky voice.

"I'm glad you can find some way to amuse me in this situation Director, always a pleasure." The stressed Clint answered back.

Natasha sighed, not wanting the two to rip each other apart before they could find a solution or come up with any answers to their dilemma.

The whole department was still recovering from the events of the day before, and Natasha had to admit she still was too.

It had taken an hour after for the cold to seep out of her bones, and many cups of hot coffee and comforting hugs with her son for the fear to leave too.

For the time being, they had place Brooklyn in a room, heavily guarded and monitored. She was given toys and games, books she could not yet read, and was checked on every hour by the friendly nurse that had looked after her before.

No-one else, not even Natasha would willingly check on her, for their fear was too much.

Natasha wanted to scoff at herself. She had faced so much worse, lived through so much more, and  yet here she was, scared out of her mind of a four-year old little girl.

No, not scared of. She was scared for.

She didn't know what would happen to her. What Fury's ultimate choice would be.

If she was deemed dangerous enough to be contained, irrelevant enough to be sent away, or threatening enough that Natasha didn't want to think about what other organisations and government officials were suggesting.

They had no answers from Brooklyn about her past, her abilities or her thoughts, and so Fury had no answers to give to those who demanded them, including himself.

Maria walked in, grave faced.

"Still nothing?" She asked before signing at Natasha's nodding head.

Tired. They were all so tired. 

"She just won't talk," Maria began, giving Natasha the small cup of strong smelling liquid to calm her tattered nerves, "No matter who tries to speak to her, or what they say. She's too scared-"

"She's scared?" Asked Fury, his tone frustrated, "Imagine how the rest of my department is feeling. I told you Natasha that I didn't want this place turning into a nursery, and here I am nursing a headache from all the child-like complaining I'm receiving!"

"She's scared of herself, Boss, doesn't want to hurt anyone other than herself." Replied Maria coolly.

Natasha sighed, sick of not knowing what to do. She hated being this helpless, and she resented everything that had caused them to be in this predicament with a passion. If that man Brooklyn so desperately loved had survived, she would have made sure by now that he was way past the appearances of humanity.

Just as Clint opened his mouth to maybe give some advice of comfort to his friends, the door opened, making him shut his jaw shut when he saw who walked in.

"Mama?"

Natasha smiled despite her aching self, and opened her arms wide, blanket sliding off her shoulders as she beckoned her son into her arms.

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