just another one shots book

Mama spider

Summary: Peter Romanoff is spiderman. A vigilantly who is currently being chased by the Avengers.
Warnings: aunt May death.

After dinner at the Avengers tower, Natasha Romanoff went back to her room. She didn't bother locking her door as she pulled out her phone to talk to the only person that could make her smile.

Her son.

He immediately answered his phone not even wasting a second before starting to ramble on about his day.

"And then after patrol I came home, finished my home work and then you called," Peter finished.

"I see your day was so eventful you forgot to great your mother," Natasha chuckled.

"Sorry Mama spider," Peter quickly apologised, as usual.

"No it's fine my baby spider. Now, it's already midnight and you have school tomorrow. So goodnight my spider," Natasha told her son, her usual cold voice now soft.

"Could you tell me a story first?" her son asked with a yawn.

"Okay I've got the best one," she said as she heard her son enter bed.

"Once a pon a time there was this beautiful woman. She was very drowned in her work and never had time for relationships.

One day this man, tall dark and hansom, walked into her life. She never liked him though. But after some time they started to form a bond.

One day he had to leave. But he left her with a gift to always remember him by. A baby boy.

She couldn't keep him though. Even if she wanted to. She had a lot of enemies and they would do whatever they could to get to her.

So she left him at the door of a nice couples home. Though she made a promise to come back for him one day.

It broke her heart to leave him there but she knew they would be reunited one day.

The end.

Now go to sleep baby spider," she said, tears now welling up in her eyes though she kept her voice steady.

"Goodnight, and Mama?" Peter asked in a sleepy voice.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we will be reunited again?"

"I know we will. Now you need sleep. I love you."

"I love you too Mama," Peter said and cut the call.

Tears flowed down her face and she jumped slight when there was a knock on her door. She wiped her eyes and went to the door. It was opened to reveal a certain patriotic super soldier.

After Nat retired for the night Steve decided to do so to. As he walked to his room he passed the ex-assassins room.

He stopped upon hearing voices  from behind her door. It wasn't in his nature to eavesdrop but he couldn't help himself.

He focused his hearing and was able to pick up the conversation she was having on the phone.

At the end of the call Steve deduced that Nat had a son. He stood there for a while wondering whether he should confront her or not. But quickly chose the former.

He knocked on the door. He heard her light footsteps head toward the door and it was pulled open slowly.

Nat looked up at Steve with slightly red eyes and let him in.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve asked politely.

She immediately broke into tears. He was still at first. The shock of seeing the Natasha Romanoff cry can do that to people.

He did the first thing that came into mind. He hugged her. She didn't push him away like he expected but hugged him back and cried into his chest.

"Am I a bad mother?" She cried out.

"No you're not. You did what you had to do," he said, quickly catching on that the story she told her son was her story.

"Please don't tell the others," she said pulling away and wiping her eyes.

"Scouts honour," Steve said saluting.

This got a slight laugh from the short woman.

The next night Nat sat in the living room with the rest of the Avengers having a movie night. But she couldn't pay attention to it a she kept glancing at the clock on the wall.

It was know thirty minutes to twelve and she was really impatient. This of course didn't go unnoticed by a certain archer.

Her phone pinged and she pulled it out of her pocket thinking it was a text from Fury for a new mission. But she was wrong.

'Hi mum can you meet me on top of the old shoe factory on Grant street it's really important.'

It was from Peter.

She didn't skip a beat. They only met once a month. If Peter was this desperate to meet then something was wrong.

She got up and went to the elevator. She headed down the garage, got her bike and headed to the location.

After she left Clint paused the movie they were watching. There were complaints but he just ignored them.

"Have you guy noticed how Nat always disappears at twelve every night?" he asks, his eyes scanning everyone.

He might act like a child but he was still a trained assassin.

Everyone had the same confused look on their face...except Steve.

"Hey Steve what's up with Nat?" Clint asked, redirecting his questions to the taller man.

Everybody looked at Steve expectantly. He raised his hands up in surrender.

"It's not my secret to tell," he said.

Their faces fell and they all grumbled something about how honourable he is.

Natasha rode her bike as fast as she could. When she arrived she climbed up the fire escape to the roof.

Her son was seated at the edge of the building. He was in his spiderman suit though the mask was off. She ruffled his brown curls and sat down next to him. She pulled him into a hug when she noticed the tears flowing out of his eyes like a waterfall.

"A-aunt May. I-I couldn't save her. In sorry," he cried.

"It's okay. It's not your fault," Natasha said running a hand through her son's curls.

"Where am I going to go now?"

"You can come stay with me."

"Really?" Peter asked as he pulled away.

She placed her hands on his cheeks and wiped away his tears as she replied, "Really."

The rest of the Avengers hadn't stopped trying to get the information out of Steve. They were distracted by FRIDAY's announcement.

'Boss. Scary Russian lady is coming up the elevator with spiderman.'

Before they had time to question the AI, the elevator dinged signaling their arrival.

The duo walked into the room full of shocked avengers. Spiderman took his mask of revealing a mop of brown curls and big brown eyes.

"Guys this is my son," Nat announced like it was a casual everyday thing.

"WHAT THE FU-"

1142: words.