natasha x daughter one shots

young

warnings: like the most minor mention of self harm ever, so minor that i don't think it needs a trigger warning but i'm not gonna take any chances because people can attack you for anything these days

age: 15

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NATASHA's POV

Lately, Y/N has been... off, to put it plainly.

She has been doing immaculately well in trying to get better and putting herself into good habits and I really couldn't be prouder of how far she's come, but it doesn't undermine the fact that I can see her starting to slip.

I don't think it's reached the point of major concern, she can still crack a smile and manage a walk every now and then, I'm just keeping a close eye on her for the time being.

The fact that she's come to see me in my office right now makes that job significantly easier.

"Hi, mama," she greets me and takes a seat on my white sofa, pulling a pillow onto her lap to clutch tightly. I know this girl, and holding onto something like a pillow for safety means an uncomfortable conversation is coming up.

"Hey," I reply, swiveling my desk chair around to face her. "Are you okay?"

Y/N all of a sudden goes quiet and starts to play with the rings on her fingers, avoiding eye contact.

"Y/N? I asked you a question," I say semi-seriously, not wanting to push her but also desperate to know if she's mentally feeling alright.

After some moments, she starts speaking up. "If I felt a certain way, you would want me to tell you, right? You wouldn't want me to keep it in?"

I'm a little confused at her questions. We've talked many times before about open communication and how she can tell me absolutely anything, even if we're at each other's throats at the time.

I soften my eyes and ask her, "Is this you asking me to help you navigate through something?"

She looks up and nods, so I stand up from my chair and walk over to where she's sitting. I place myself beside her, close enough so my left knee is touching her right one.

"Are you having any thoughts of hurting yourself again?" I question bluntly, not wanting to wait another minute if I'm correct.

"No. No, definitely not. I'm not ruining sixty three days over this mood," she answers, sounding honest. I take it.

"You've been in a mood? Hm. Hadn't noticed," I joke half-heartedly, nudging her shoulder playfully. She only looks down and keeps her face straight. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I've picked up on the fact you're not doing very well. Do you wanna tell your mama what's going on?"

Y/N then looks up at me tiredly. Poor darling looks exhausted.

That's probably why she starts to lean on my shoulder before swallowing a sob that she's trying to suppress.

"Y/N... oh, my love... whatever it is, it's gonna be okay," I reassure her and wrap my arm around her back.

"I don't know how to feel anymore," she admits in a whisper, I pull her away from me to look into her eyes and see the tears falling freely before bringing her back into my body and holding her head against my chest.

"In what way, baby?"

"I just don't know how to feel. That's the only way I can put it. I'm tired all the time, the stupid chronic anxiety is taking a toll and I thought I was getting better and I really, really tried this time and it all went to shit and I don't know why. Why does this always happen? I know it's supposed to come and go but it comes back too often."

When she's done venting, my daughter slowly picks herself up and walks out of the room.

This isn't uncommon. Whenever she's opened up, she always feels a sense of shame or guilt, like she should have kept it to herself. And no matter how many times I've told her that she doesn't have to feel that way, it doesn't change a thing. It's just how she's wired.

But it will not stop me from following her each time and making sure she won't do any self damage.

Trying not to seem too overbearing, I walk behind her slowly and carefully, following her lead.

She leads, I have her back. Always.

"Don't waste your time trying to get something more out of me. I shouldn't even have told you what I did," she tells me, turning around and flopping onto the couch with head in hands.

"Why do you think you shouldn't have? I've explained to you many, many times that you can always come to me, no matter how big or small a problem may be. Y/N/N, if you don't let yourself share your emotions then we could end up in a very complicated situation like last year. Maybe you're not too concerned for yourself anymore but I am. I don't want you to downfall again."

Y/N nods and wipes away the remains of the tears from earlier. "Do you think we could talk about it some more then?"

I nod, patting my lap for her to lay down and rest her head on. She soon gets into position and starts talking.

"I don't want to go back to feeling how I used to every single day. I don't know where it came from or why the feeling has come back, I just know that I cannot continue with it. I was doing everything right, I wasn't in bed all day and I wasn't on my phone as much, I was doing things that were good for me so why is it back?"

With every word she speaks, more frustration is released and it isn't long before she's crying lightly again.

"I just can't stand it anymore, mama," she sighs, leaning on her back to stare up at me, I bring my hands to her cheeks and wipe away the tears with my thumbs.

"You don't have to. We can get you back to a good place again, it doesn't have to be like this." I take a deep breath. "How about we start by trying to get you back into the good habits you started? What were they? Tidying your room every day, taking a walk, that sort of stuff?"

"But I'm tired, moving is too hard. Can't I just stay here and cuddle you?"

As bad as I feel for saying this, I know it's my motherly duty to. "No. I'm sorry. We can cuddle for another two minutes but after that, we're going for a walk. You can whine the whole time and you can scuff your shoes on the ground, but we're not staying cooped up in here."

Though having a disapproving look on her face, she sits up and snuggles into me so she's on my lap yet our chests are pressed up against each other. It does sound appealing to just stay here and cuddle her to make her feel better, but I know what really needs to be done.

I'm gonna help her.