Could you imagine black widow a mom?
The Natasha Romanoff, the ex-assassin, running off to have a child?
The avengers haven't seen Natasha since the day she told them she had to go off the Grid for a while. That was almost 6 years ago. When she sai...
When I wake up it's dark, the only light coming from four windows up on the wall, but I'm not bound down tightly anymore. There's a long chain with some handcuffs tightly around my left arm. I'm sore everywhere, my body aches. Everything just hurts. I can't hold it in anymore, I'm sorry mama. I'm crying. Wait.. why am I apologizing to mama? Who is that? I should not be crying. No. Now I'm confused.
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The floor is wet. That's where I'm sitting after I test how long the chain is and look out the window. I have my legs up to my chest. I don't know my name, I don't know my family, my age. I don't remember anything. It's kinda weird actually. It's like I'm floating around, supposed to remember, but I don't.
Every once in a while I can hear guards walking past the door. Scared that they'll enter. A few times a day they do.
I don't know how much time goes by, but I think a lot when I finally start feeling sleepy again. I can go back to sleep.
Timeskip: next morning.
Someone is harshly throwing me out of my 'bed' and onto the floor. "Вставать. Время балета." (Get up. Time for ballet) the guard says with one of the things I can remember. The harsh mean tone. The cold one, that makes you feel like nothing will ever be ok again.
He takes the hard firm grip on my shoulder that my body clearly remembers. I hold back from wincing. Show no pain. He drags me out into the hall. It almost looks like a prison, if I know what one looks like.
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We get to a room where he throws a leotard at me. "Изменять." (Change) the man orders.
I nod and compliant start taking off the set of clothes I'm wearing. Once I'm in the leotard, the firm handgrip is back. We walk a while more, then I start hearing a few hushed voices, but once the sound of the guards boots comes it's complete silence. He throws me into the line.
This time it's not a scared look on my face, not one that wants to know information. No it's a stone face. Exactly what they want me to have. I don't know who I am.. I think. I only know I'm supposed to follow the orders the men tells me. So that's what I will be doing.
