Baby Widow Romanova

Chapter 16

NATASHA'S P.O.V

Natasha's eyebrows furrowed as her eyes narrowed trying to get used to the amount of light. She got up from the thin mattress she had been lying on, slowly taking in her surroundings. Ross finally had The Black Widow where he wanted her. She was imprisoned in the Raft.

She sighed. Natasha remembered threatening anyone that would get closer to her sister or her daughter. And she had kept her threat or, at least, tried to, since the next and last thing she remembered was the sting of a needle pricking her neck.

Vera had screamed through the whole thing, thrashing in her aunt's arms as the young woman had tried her best to get themselves away from there. And Natasha truly wished they had managed to escape. The last thing she needed was for her sister and her daughter to be in this place as well.

The short-haired blonde woman got closer to the silvery horizontal bars. She couldn't see much from where her cell was, just the dark hallway. She was aware she couldn't say Yelena's name out loud, it was too dangerous since there were probably cameras in the hallway. So, she pursed her lips together, whistled her two notes and waited. If Yelena was close, she would get the answer. If not, it could mean her sister was still unconscious or, what she hoped for, not in a cell.

"Are you calling for someone?" Ross' voice sounded close to her cell, only to appear on the other side of the bars a few seconds later. "Good to see you're awake," he smiled as she frowned angrily. "Can I trust you're going to collaborate?"

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice a little raspy.

"Names." The man answered, eyeing her while adding, "Starting with your kid's name. There isn't a single file about her, you know? It's odd." He commented.

Natasha clenched her jaw. Well, Ross could try all he wanted to get that information, she just wasn't going to give it to him. It didn't matter what he did, her daughter's safety came first.

-/-

MELINA'S P.O.V

When Melina walked into the kitchen late at night, she wasn't expecting to find the ten-year-old child sitting under the small table. Her back was leaning on the wall, holding her legs close to her chest and face hiding in between the knees.

The woman's eyes softened at the sight of the small girl. Vera was muttering words in Russian, but Melina could pick up one clear word, "Mama". It was obvious that the kid was disturbed about the events that had happened two days ago.

Slowly, the woman crouched down, not wanting to trigger the child ever more. "Sweet girl," She called in just a soft whisper, but when she didn't get an answer, she tried again, "Vera."

The young girl lifted her head slowly, her teary green eyes barely showing any recognition of the woman that was crouching in front of her.

Melina eyed with concern the kid's bloody palms when Vera went to rub her eyes. She was aware that Natasha had been trying to get the child to stop digging her nails in her palms whenever she was anxious. But it seemed that the old habit was back.

"Can you come with me?" She asked the young girl, extending her hand for the child to grab.

The ten-year-old took the offer, slowly getting out from under the table. Melina had to wrap an arm around the small girl after watching how wobbly the kid was walking. It made her wonder for how long the child had been dancing outside without any of them knowing.

She guided the kid into her small office, sitting down on the rocking chair that used to be in Vera's nursery. The rocking motion had always helped her to calm down the fussing infant.