Pepper: PLEASE JUST TAKE A BREAK

Pepper: PLEASE JUST TAKE A BREAK

Tony: Oh, I'm sorry, is this OUR terminal illness?

How we were

Summary:"I don't blame you for not loving me," Natasha whispered, her voice hoarse as she peered up at the woman who she once called her mother.

"I blame you for pretending you ever did.”

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A/N: This work was inspired by a prompt from Charlie_Balle who is literally my favourite Ao3 author <3

Tags: Angst, Abandonment issues, Arguing, Natasha needs a hug, Melina needs a hug, Emotional hurt/comfort.

W/C: 850

Link to fic on Ao3

Natasha steps out into the cold air of the night. It's supposed to be clearer out here, but she can't appreciate it with the weight on her chest. It stifled the constant thump thump that reminded her she was still here after so long.

Her mind won't let her rest, and being trapped in that farmhouse with Alexei and Melina isn't helping whatsoever. They seem determined to act as if no time has passed, as if their old lives were real.

When she called them out on their bullshit she'd upset Yelena. It wasn't her intent, but in hindsight she should've known there wouldn't have been a good reaction.

She hasn't been standing alone for ten minutes before she hears the back door open and shut. Their footsteps are too light to be Alexei's, and not quite deft enough to be Yelena's, leaving only Melina.

“You should really wear a jacket out here.”

Natasha simply scoffs and doesn't bother turning around, focusing on the dark outlines of the landscape and fog her breath creates.

At first Natasha tries to ignore her, but when she hears high pitched squealing from close by her curiosity overtakes her better judgement, and she follows the noise until she finds herself in front of Melina sat down bottle feeding a piglet.

It was... weird to see her in such a nurturing situation after everything. The last memory she had of Melina being so soft was in the backyard of their old home, comforting her little sister after a scraped knee when Natasha couldn't.

“It's mother rejected it.” Melina explains quickly, keeping her eyes on the small creature suckling aggressively. “I didn't crate her soon enough.” she mutters, mostly to herself.

The crickets and occasional frog fill in the silence between them. As well as the piglet’s oinks. She notices an empty crate nearby and decides to sit on it, the fatigue of the prison escape and half marathon to the farm creeping in on her.

Natasha remembers a lot of silences like these from years ago. With Yelena Melina had to constantly answer her endless array of questions, her curiosity of the word abundant. But with Natasha they could simply exist together and be content.

“So, this is what you do now, rescue orphaned piglets?” She asks, her eyes trained on the small thing with black patches of fuzz.

Melina doesn't answer for a moment, placing the bottle to the side once the gluttonous creature drains it. “My work is more important than that.”

The red-haired woman's anger is flared at the remark, but there's never any point arguing with her. When Natasha was younger any arguments were immediately shut down with an air of almost unquestionable authority and followed by an apology. Except when it came to Alexei, of course.

Finally, Melina looks up and at her daughter's face. So riddled with betrayal and hurt. A face she never thought she would see again.

“I did my best, Natasha. You know that I had no choice.”

“You could’ve done something.” She snaps back, but deep down she knows she's being unfair. Even if Melina had taken the girls and ran, they would have been hunted relentlessly like animals.

“I prepared you in every way I could.” That was, in the ways she was authorised to do so. If she had been allowed to teach them combat and stealth in their time together, she wouldn't have hesitated.

The Iron Maiden raises to her feet slowly, keeping the black and pink blob close to her chest, and places it down gently in a small bed of hay.

She glances down at Natasha to see her crouched over her lap picking at the small, white flowers on the ground and can't stop herself, “You're slouching again.”

The younger woman frowns and looks back up at Melina. “Stop pretending you give a shit.”

“I care about you. I raised you.”

“No, you didn't.”

Melina can't help slightly raise her voice at the swirl of emotions, “You blame me for this, but it was out of my control and yours.”

“I dont blame you for the past decades- I can't blame you for it. I don't blame you for being one of Dreykov's puppets...”

The Widow stops and inhales, driving her fingernails into the leather strap on her suit.

“I don't blame you for not loving me.” Natasha whispered, her voice hoarse as she peered up at the woman who she once called her mother.

"I blame you for pretending you ever did.”

Melina stops then cautions a step closer to Natasha and takes a knee to be level with her.

“It was never pretend, Natasha. I loved you dearly for every second I knew I should not have, and I do not regret it.”

The younger Widow scrubs at her face furiously and doesn't reply to Melina’s affirmations, ready to get up and leave before a tear betrays her, until she feels a hand on her cheek which she instinctively leans in to.

“I'm sorry, my dear.” She murmurs just loud enough for her to hear.

“…I know.”

____☆____

“Villain and violent

Infant and innocent

Baby, both arms cradle you now”

-Forwards beckon rebound, Adrianne Lenker

Gotta love that Melina and Nat angst, thank you for reading and please send in any requests!

🚨We appeal from an environment surrounded by death

The situation is getting worse every day, and my anxiety and fear of losing my family is also increasing

I hope that you will find humanity within you and help me preserve my family and not lose them as I lost everything in the war.

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gofundme.com

Donate to Help Mohammed & His Family To Safety, organized by Bridget Pallas

Hello, My name is Bridget Kushner and I'm managing this fundraiser for Mohammed a… Bridget Pallas needs your support for Help Mohammed & Hi

My campaign was vetted by my dear friend : ➡️@el-shab-hussein .

@90-ghost @nabulsi @sar-soor @sayruq @muhammadsmiry @appsa

Natasha: Hey, Maria guess my favourite colour

Maria: Blue, right?

Natasha: First try!

Yelena: Isn't your favourite colour re-

Natasha: Shut up, Yelena.

Steve: Alright whoever broke the vase just fess up. Remember, honesty is the best policy.

Yelena: I honestly think that suit makes your ass look fat.

Sam: PFFFT

Reblog if you'll PUBLICLY answer anything in your ask right now.

Im game