age: 10
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NATASHA's POV
I love Y/N, like love her. A lot. Obviously.
But my god! That child has energy like no one else. She can't sit still for more than two seconds.
Hence why I gave her the nickname 'Tigger' from Winnie The Pooh, she's always bouncing around or whatnot.
It wipes me out, but I wouldn't change it for the world. I was the one who took her in, anyway.
I'm not Y/N's birth mom. Her parents were good friends of ours and SHIELD agents who unfortunately passed away after some fatal injuries during a mission they joined us on. Y/N's mother made me promise that I would always take good care of her little one, and I've kept my word.
Y/N was only six at the time, she didn't take it well, of course. What child would? She couldn't even make sense of the world.
The past two years, she's really been living life to the fullest. She is so enthusiastic and it's such a beautiful thing to be able to see her grow up.
Today, we're spending the afternoon in the training room since she wanted to muck about on some of the equipment. I quickly agreed because it might tire her out, meaning I could have some alone time later...
Plus, it's nice to see her having so much fun, especially since all that the world has taken from her.
"Tasha, hurry up!" she tells me, letting go of my hand and running off speedily.
"Alright, Tigger. I'm coming," I laugh, jogging to catch up with her.
It's possible that she could beat Steve at running.
"If I'm Tigger then you're Piglet."
"How do you figure that?" I ask, opening up the doors to the training room with my handprint.
"Because you have crippling anxiety," she says nonchalantly, walking straight over to the tall slide that we use to practice our landings if we're flung in the air. It's how I mastered my 'pose', as my sister would say.
"I do not," I reply in confusion. I can get a bit anxious at times, the big bad Black Widow does have feelings, but I wouldn't call it crippling.
"Uncle Tony said you have crippling anxiety."
"Well, I don't. Now are you gonna climb up that ladder to go down the slide or what?"
She quickly nods and makes her way up the ladder.
If I know Y/N, and I do, she's going to go down that slide at least thirty times before doing anything else.
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"Y/N, we only have about twenty minutes left. Is there anything else you wanna do?" I ask seeing as we've spend the past four hours in the training room. I've been doing actual training whilst she's been messing around.
"What are those monkey bars up there?"
"Oh, those are for Peter to practice swinging on. They're very high, I'm not sure it's safe for you to go on."
"Please, Natty? I'll be careful, I promise. There's safety mats on the floor."
Reluctantly, extremely reluctantly, I allow it. However, I do lower the bars as low as they can go, which is still a good few meters up in the air.
With me directly behind her, I help her to climb up the vertical part of the monkey bars and step back when she reaches the part she actually needs to swing on.
"Y/N, I don't wanna leave you unsupervised but I am desperate for the bathroom so I'm gonna be gone for a few minutes, I am begging you to be careful."
It goes against my greater instincts to leave her alone, even if it's for a short while, but I'm gonna pee myself if I don't go now.
I tell her to be careful one last time before rushing off to the toilet.
Not wanting to leave her for too long, I quickly finish up and make my way back to the training room, where I see her swinging from bar to bar.
It isn't until I'm halfway in the room that she turns her head to see me, and takes off one of her hands to wave.
What a mistake that was.
Before I can run and catch her, Y/N loses grip with her other hand and goes plummeting down onto the crash mat.
And thank god the mats are down, because she lands on her arm and it makes a snap sound, which could've been a lot worse if she it wasn't.
I let out a loud gasp before yelling, "Tigger!" and running over to a sobbing Y/N. I guess Wanda was on her way down here to train too because she comes running in in her training clothes.
"What happened?!" the witch hurriedly asks, joining me on the floor with my daughter.
"She fell. Y/N, what hurts? Is it your arm?"
Throughout the sobs and gasps, it's hard to make out what she's trying to say, but I do catch onto one word and that's 'wrist'.
"Okay, it's okay." I'm trying my hardest to keep calm for her right now, despite my heart literally pounding outside of my chest. "We just need to go to the hospital, love. Come on, I'll carry you."
Just as I'm about to scoop her up, Y/N starts flailing around and kicking me off. I quickly let go as me and Wanda are left in confusion.
"No hospital!" she cries, holding her wrist like a hurt puppy.
"Baby, we have to," I try and reason with her, "It's the only way we can make your wrist feel better. None of our medics are in right now so we have to go somewhere that has doctors. That place is the hospital."
The way her breathing picks up definitely doesn't no unnoticed by me nor by her aunt.
"M-my mom and dad went into the hospital, and they d-didn't come out."
My heart positively cracks at her words, and her fear. No child should have to go through the loss that she did.
"Your mom and dad were very, very sick, baby. That won't happen to you," I reassure and lift her onto my lap so that hopefully I can calm her down with physical contact.
Y/N doesn't know her parents were murdered, that knowledge would be far too much for her to handle. She just thinks they got really ill, and I'm keeping it that way until she's older. She'll thank me when she knows I've protected her from years of pain.
"What if I die, too?" she asks in a quiet voice, her cries turning into sniffles now that the initial shock has worn off.
Me and Wanda look at each other in compassion for the girl. It isn't something you want to hear a ten year old say.
"You're not gonna die, baby. You know why? Because me and your aunt Wanda are gonna be with you and we'll always protect you."
"Yeah," Wanda nods, placing a hand on Y/N's back, "And if it's any reassurance, I've broken my arm before, too. About two years ago when I was training in here. I had to go to hospital and I'm still here."
"I remember," Y/N whispers, grimacing from the pain she's in. "Okay."
"Okay as in you'll let us take you?" I ask hopefully. She nods. "Thank you, sweetheart. Let's go."