The Widow's Daughter ✔︎

Prologue - 14 years ago

Natasha Romanoff sat straight up in bed, sweat dripping down her brow. Something had awoken her - whether it was a nightmare or an instinct, she didn't know. She just knew that it wasn't right, and that it had something to do with her.

She flung the covers off her trembling body and froze, her ears detecting something moving in the floor above her. She swore and grabbed the gun that she slept with under her pillow, loading it chock-full with bullets.

She began to run, out of her room and into the darkened hallway of the Avengers tower, her heart pounding at the speed of a galloping stallion. Her hands were sweaty as she thundered up the stairway, trying to ignore the growing sense of absolute fear in her bones. 

It was probably just a hoax, she told herself as she sped around the corner to see the room that held everything she had ever dreamed about, everything she had worked for. The lights were on and the doors were open, clear that somebody was in there. It was probably just Bruce, checking in on their project. Or maybe it was Tony, going for a nighttime stroll. Heck, it even might be Thor, searching for his hammer (Vision had hidden it).

Natasha ran through the door and growled as she scanned around the empty lab, her heart pounding. Nobody was there. She let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and walked over to the tank that held her precious project, certain that it would still be there and that everything was fine.

Wait. Why was the window open?

She went over to it and peered out, noticing that some of the glass was smashed and that there were muddy footprints everywhere. Her heart in her throat she ran over to the tank and peered in, a gasp slipping from her mouth.

When she saw that the tank was empty, she screamed, fire coursing through her veins. She clung to the tank like it was her life support, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sank down into a small pile on the cold floor of the lab. She let out a heartbroken, gut-wrenching sob and screamed again until her throat was hoarse, feeling dead, feeling horrible. Everything she'd ever worked for... it was all gone.

She felt a million hands trying to comfort her, to soothe words, as she stood up. The rest of the Avengers were gathered there, each of them angry and scared as they saw that the tank was empty.

"It's all gone," croaked Banner, clutching the empty tank, green coursing up his neck. "Gone!" he screamed.

Thor roared in rage and blasted a hole in the roof with his hammer. Loki let out a string of his finest Asgardian swear words, and Tony, who hadn't seemed to have any emotions before this, growled and seethed.

Natasha faced the rest of the Avengers and clung to the nearest person she could find, which happened to be Clint. "She's gone," Natasha whispered. "My daughter is gone."