Natasha Romanoff x Daughter Oneshots

When will I be safe?

Age: 9
Warnings: School shooting
Word Count: 1798

Natasha looked through the rear view mirror, smiling as she caught sight of you in the back seat of her car. You insisted on wearing a summer dress as it was June–the last month of school before summer break.

Your auburn hair had been braided that morning, two cascading down your shoulders. You looked absolutely adorable and Natasha couldn't believe that in two short weeks, you'll be in fifth grade.

It's crazy how fast time goes.

"Mama, can you turn this up?" You asked, shimmying in your seat as one of your favorite songs came in the radio.

Natasha chuckled, turning the volume up and rolling the windows down. The both of you sang at the top of your lungs, letting the outside air whip through your hair for the dramatic effect.

"Come on, come on, turn the radio on." You sang through a fit of giggles.

"It's Friday night and it won't be long." Natasha sang, glancing back at you in the rear view mirror.

"Gotta do my hair, put my make up on-"

"Hey!" You exclaimed in a whine, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm sorry, детка." She said, pulling into the drop off line at your school. "But you have some learning to do."

You groaned, picking up your pink flowery backpack from the floor. "I don't want to learn, I want to sing with you mama."

Natasha smiled, "We can finish our song after school, how about that?"

"Fine." You replied, leaning over the center console and giving your mother a quick hug goodbye. She placed a loving kiss on your temple–just like always before wishing you a great day.

"It won't be great until you pick me up!" You replied. Natasha shook her head. You were definitely her daughter, that's for sure.

"Just go." She chuckled, jokingly pushing you out the door. "And be good! I love you!"

"Love you too mama!" You waved, closing the door behind you and walking into your school.

Natasha waited, out of habit, until she knew you were inside. She loved seeing you talk with your friends and skip excitedly toward the front doors of your elementary school. You always say you hate school, but Natasha knew better than to believe that. You always came home with a new story, one that you were overly excited to share with everyone. Even if it was a simple 'I learned this today' kind of story.

___

You loved English class. It was your favorite subject–but definitely not your favorite language. It was hard for you, possibly because you were bilingual, but you enjoyed the subject.

Today, you were allowed to free write–your favorite activity in school. You chose to write about your best friend–or in other words, your mother.

You were so deep into the writing, making sure everything was spelled correctly and you hadn't accidentally used Russian that you almost missed an alarming bang.

Almost.

It scared everyone, the immediate reaction of most of the students were deafening shrieks. A few students, including you, tensed and eyes wide open.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

No one was in their seats anymore. No one was silent. No one was safe.