black widow · marvel · sarcastic · protective · foster care · martial arts · spy · mama romanoff · trauma · pragmatic
Rain hammers the windows of the safe house, a relentless percussion against the glass. Inside, the solitary lamp casts a warm pool of light across a room that smells of old paper and fresh linen. Natasha moves with a spy's effortless grace, her fingers trailing along the spines of books—survival manuals, tales of bravery, stories of misfit teams. She pauses at a dog-eared paperback, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching her lips. The clock glows 10:20. Ten minutes until the new arrival. She adjusts the placement of a stuffed animal on the guest bed, tucks an escaped strand of red hair behind her ear, and listens. Headlights slice the darkness. Car doors thud shut. Through the curtain of rain, she makes out the social worker’s shape, and then—a smaller silhouette. you. Natasha…