natasha x daughter one shots

can't pretend ( part two )

all the same info as before - including the tw

-

NATASHA's POV

"Morning, detka!" I greet my favorite student as she walks into my classroom earlier than everyone else.

"You fucking told them!"

"Woah, okay, Y/N... you knew that I was going to tell them. I had to," I'm trying to keep my voice as soft as possible as not to upset her further.

It's been two days since she told me about her self-harm. She didn't have my lesson yesterday and I didn't have the time to find her during the day. I told her I would get her help, and I have. I've even got her set up with a private therapist and everything - I wasn't going to send her to some shitty school counselor. I cleaned her wounds too and bandaged them so that at least she'd have the excuse of not being able to show her parents. However, it's part of my job that I absolutely cannot keep things like this a secret, thus I had to call her mom and explain the situation. I did tell Y/N beforehand that I'd have to, maybe she just didn't think I actually would?

"Yeah, but I didn't think you actually would!"

"Detka, stop yelling. You need to calm down before class starts in fifteen minutes," I explain gently but that only seems to intensify her anger.

"No! You told my parents! Do you know how much worse you've made this?! We're not even talking now, they're pissed off at me! Why would you do that?!"

"Hey, stop yelling at me, I was only trying to help!" I lose it and shout at her. Something I've never done to any of my students, and shock floods her features. "Y/N..." I say back in my usual quiet tone.

"No," she stops me and walks out of my classroom before the visible unshed tears could fall.

"Great," I mutter to myself sarcastically.

-

"Okay, guys, good job today," I tell my lovely class at the end of the lesson. They worked exceptionally well today and I'm super proud of them.

"Hey, Miss Romanoff?" a student calls out to me.

"Yes, my love?"

"Where's Y/N?" that same student asks, I think they're friends.

"Uhh, I'm not sure, honey. Maybe she's sick?" I lie, in the hopes to not bring up too many questions. But to be completely honest, I don't know where she is either. She just stormed off and never turned up again.

"Bet she's gone to slit her wrists again," I overhear one of the 'popular' boys say to his friends. They're troublesome.

Without wanting to draw too much attention to the situation, I stay where I'm stood and try and eavesdrop on their conversation, I can't hear them, though. They're practically whispering.

"Luke, and you other lot with him, hang back a sec, okay? Everyone else, you can go."

Much to my surprise, the boys actually listen to what I say and walk up to my desk when everyone else has left.

"Oooo, Miss, are you tryna get some? I don't have a condom," one of them says to me. Disgusting.

"Ew, I'm old enough to be your mother. Plus you're a minor, you're not even legal. Anyway, what was it you guys were saying about Y/N?"

"About her slitting her wrists?" Luke asks for confirmation.

"Mhm."

"You didn't hear? A load of students saw her in the bathrooms before class, she came out the stall with blood stains on her hoodie. It was grey so you could see everything."

"She's hurt?! Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me?!" I yell and immediately run out of my classroom, darting towards the nearest bathrooms to find Y/N.

"Y/N?!" I call out, tears are now undeniably streaming down my face. "Y/N, please, where are you?" I sob. I don't even care about all the weird looks I'm getting from students, they'll all be in their lessons in a minute anyway.

"Y/N, detka, please, you have to be in here," I plead as I reach the last set of bathrooms in the school. Yes, I searched the entire school for her. That's how much I care about this child.

"I'm here," I hear a small voice reply from inside the furthest cubicle.

"Get out here, now!" I raise my voice again. It's not out of anger, it's out of fear. I'm terrified for her. I've seen how deep she can go. "Y/N, if you don't get your ass out here right now, I'll get someone to break the door down. Or better yet, I'll do it myself."

Normally I would never talk to the kids that way, but Y/N is different. I consider her a daughter.

My threat seems to do the trick since I hear the door click unlocked and the girl comes into view seconds after.

"Oh, baby," I cry and waste no time in pulling her into possibly the biggest hug I've ever given. "Don't do that ever again, you scared me."

"I'm sorry." She's crying too now. "I didn't mean any of it, you didn't do anything wrong."

"It's okay," I nod and pull away, still keeping a firm grip on her shoulders so she doesn't run off again. "I didn't wanna tell them either, my love, but I had to. I had to find a way to keep you safe and I couldn't do that. I'm legally obligated to tell a parent or guardian of this topic. I knew it would make it worse because I know how your home life can be, but I didn't have a choice."

"I know. It's fine, I'll get over it."

"Okay... Can I please clean you up again? That looks like a lot of blood," I say after noticing how much has actually leaked through her sleeve.

"I guess."

-

"So, what are we gonna do with you, huh?" I ask now that I've cleaned and bandaged her arms and we're sat together holding hands in my classroom.

"I was kind of hoping you had the answer to that."

This poor girl. It's obvious that she needs someone in her life to depend on and her parents aren't providing that safety for her.

"Well, look, I've gotten you a therapist, and given that telling your parents only made it worse last time, I will not be telling them of the events of today. Is that any reassurance?"

"I guess... but I don't know about the therapy part," she admits nervously.

"Detka, I promise you that she is a very nice lady. I took the time to have a proper meeting with her and she seems like the sort of person you'd like. Just try one session and even if you decide not to go through with it, you can say you tried. I get that you might not want to recover yet and that's okay, but please at least try. I need you to try."

-

One month. She's one whole month clean. She took my advice, she saw the therapist, she carried on with it, and today is one of her biggest achievements ever. I can see a significant difference in her mood lately, she's a lot bubblier than she was. Of course a month of therapy and support isn't going to fix everything, but it's a start and there is nothing more magical than seeing her smile again.

"Look what I gotttt," I say as she walks into my classroom after school hours to hang out.

"You bought a cake?" she asks in laughter.

"Duh! Only the best for my favorite student. Come here, detka." She walks over to me and I engulf her a tight embrace. "I am so unbelievably proud of you, darling. You put in the work and look at where it's gotten you! Well done, Y/N. You did great."