My Little Spark - Romanogers Oneshots

Not yet

Age: 19

---⧗---

As the building began to topple over, I panicked. Running as fast as my legs could carry, I felt the blood rush to my ears. The sound of explosions were almost silenced to my ears. That was when everything happened within what seemed like a second. Dust was whipped up around me as the building crashed down. Somehow still on my feet, I kept running. Suddenly, something hit me. Hard enough to knock me down. As I fell, I got a glance of my mother's dark ginger hair. She was fighting, her attention fully diverted.

"Mom!" I screamed, before I was covered in rocks.

For a few seconds that seemed to drag on painfully, I scrambled to try push away some of the rubble. My attempts were in vain, and I felt a pain on the back of my head. The darkness washed up in front of my eyes. I made a few attempts to weakly call out for help. It was all black.

I coughed as I woke up. My whole body was aching or just in excruciating pain.

"Mom?" I asked, struggling to move.

No answer. I was still under the rubble. I tried to push the rocks away from on top of me. They shifted slightly, and I felt excruciating pain my left lower leg. I yelped in pain, but continued to try push my way out. I wasn't able to dig myself out, but I shifted a rock so light filtered through. I sighed with relief. I could finally breathe fresh air. I knew I was probably going to die here. Or at least be here for a long time before I was rescued. So I pulled my broken and bleeding body into the most comfortable position I could manage, rested my head back and hoped everything would be over soon. Among the pain that ran through my body, I felt exhaustion make my eyelids droop. This might be it. You might never wake up again if you close your eyes. You might never see your mother or father again. You might...
I was asleep.

---⧗---

The first thing I noticed were voices. Then I felt the weight of boulders being lifted away from me. I felt too weak to open my eyes, but I grunted in pain. I couldn't move. My limbs felt weak and heavy. I was surprised I wasn't dead. Or was I dead?

"Nat!" I heard a voice call from near me.

It was oddly familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who's it was. I heard footsteps running over, and arms grabbed my sides.

"Baby, please, wake up," I heard a desperate voice beside me as I was laid over something soft.

The voice was unmistakable.

"Mama?" I asked, my voice scratchy.

"Baby, it's me, it's me," I heard her say.

I opened my eyes as best as I could. I saw my mom holding me in her arms, tears in her emerald eyes. I'd been placed sat over her lap. She bent down and kissed my head gently, moving my dirt ridden hair out of the way.

"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered in my ear. "I thought I'd never find you again."

She was now crying. I reached one arm up to her cheek.

"Don't cry mama," I replied in a slightly stronger voice. "I'm alright."

"You're not though..."

"But I'm alive."

"You're still stubborn," my mom said with a laugh through her tears.

"Honey, we need to get her on the jet to be treated," I heard the voice from earlier say.

I looked over. It was Steve - my dad. Gratefulness and relief washed over me. He came over and kissed my forehead.

"Glad you're alive sweetheart," he whispered, before taking me from my mother's hold.

Dad carried me back to the jet, mom close the whole way. I was placed onto a medical bed and Bruce rushed over to me. He had a couple of other doctors with him. They stuck needles in my arm and started attending to my wounds. All three sounded anxious, which made me even more terrified than I already was.

"She needs surgery as soon as we get her back to the compound, along with a blood transfusion," I heard Bruce say.

"What?" I asked.

"Baby, don't worry," my mother said from beside me, gripping my hand.

I was panicking.

"No, tell me what's going on," I snapped, anxiety present in my voice.

"Ana, you need to relax," Bruce told me, which only made me worse.

"Anastasia Belova Romanoff-Rogers, look at me," mom ordered.

I looked at her. Her green eyes were calm - somehow. She held my hand with a looser grip.

"I know that you're scared," she began.

That was an extreme understatement, but I decided not to point it out.

"But you have to stay as calm as you can so Bruce can help you," mom continued.

"I can't," I replied, struggling to keep my breathing under control.

"Nat, let Bruce calm her down," dad told my mom.

Mom looked up at my dad, before nodding slowly.

"Baby, just count to ten slowly," she told me.

I felt another needle slip into my wrist. I knew what was happening and honestly, I was glad. I began to count in my head slowly.

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

...8...

I felt the sedative take over and I slipped into much needed sleep.

---⧗---

"Good evening baby," I heard a comforting voice say beside me as the sedative wore off.

"Mom..." I whispered, smiling as best as I could.

"Baby no-one's here," she told me, holding my hand as she sat beside me.

"Mama what happened?" I asked.

"They helped you. You're fine now," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'll have to wash your hair sometime soon."

"I'm 19 mama, I can do it myself," I protested.

"I'm doing it детка," she told me. "You're going to be resting for at least a week."

I groaned.

"A week?"

Mom chuckled, a soft smile on her face.

"Yep."

She crawled into bed beside me, her arms around me.

"I'm glad you're getting better," she told me, her voice muffled from her snuggling her face into my shoulder. "Want to watch a movie?"

I smiled at this.

"When don't I want to watch a movie?" I asked, sitting myself up.

My mom turned on the TV and we watched The Hunger Games. I leant on her as we cuddled up together.

"I couldn't live if I lost you детка," she mumbled.

"Not yet мама," I replied with a warm feeling in my stomach. "Not yet."