Prelude Four
"Left! Right! Jab!" A dark-haired woman instructed Lainey, throwing punches at the small child.
The blows were falling at a rapid pace, and they were falling so hard, Lainey was sure they'd leave bruises.
After all, they always did.
This time would make no difference.
"Te mueves demasiado rápido, Mama!" The girl complained, doing her best to dodge the blows in order not to get hit.
She just wasn't fast enough.
"Speak English!" The woman barked, sending a sharp slap that had Lainey flying across the floor.
The girl only stopped when she hit the wall behind her.
Lainey didn't know exactly why she was so bewildered. This happened all the time, even when they weren't training.
If she said something her mother didn't like, or looked at her the wrong way, she could always count on receiving a hit that would knock her right off her feet.
It was their way of life.
Her mother would work most of the day, doing who knows what, and Lainey would bite her nails waiting in anticipation for her to come home, only to be roughed up once the woman arrived.
Bruises upon bruises littered her small body, but her mother always made it a point to keep them in places that would be covered by the outfits she wore.
"Get up." The older woman spat.
And Lainey did get up.
She always got up, just to get knocked down again and again.
She didn't have much of a choice in the matter. If she didn't get up, she would only make it worse for herself.
And no one even cared.
The child had tried to call for help once, but when Child Services arrived, they said that they didn't see any evidence of her mother being a threat and left it at that.
But not before warning her of the dangers of lying about serious issues.
But Lainey knew she wasn't lying. Once her mother shut the door behind the officials, it was proven she wasn't lying.
She missed several days of school after that.
"You've gotta be quicker than that if you want to make something of yourself."
Apparently, all this 'training' was supposed to be for her own good.
Every hit was supposed to make her sharper, every bruise was to make her better.
Lainey did want to make something of herself, so she tried harder and quickened the pace, but it still just wasn't enough.
She was no match for the woman in front of her.
The large fist flying towards her face was a pretty good example of why.
She swore after it connected, she could actually see stars.
But she didn't have time to dwell on it, because another fist was following just as quickly as the last.
"Again!"
Lainey shot up to a sitting position, her breathing ragged, and her body soaked to the skin with sweat.
That had happened three months ago.
But it felt like it was yesterday.
As she looked around, she realized that she wasn't in Brooklyn anymore.
She wasn't in that old, barely furnished apartment with creaky floors and noisy radiators.
She was at the Avenger's Tower.
In a dark room.
A nice room.
Her room.
The room that had been so graciously offered to her.
And to prove that it was, in fact, hers, Tony had Pepper go online to buy anything she felt she needed or wanted in order to make herself feel more comfortable.
The shopping included everything from paint for the walls, bedsheets, some new clothes, essentials, to a modest sized tv and some sweet treats they thought she might like.
No one had ever done that before and Lainey couldn't feel anything short of grateful.
The nightmare wasn't real.
It had just been a dream and she took comfort in that, but it had still freaked her out and she was way beyond going back to sleep.
If she was going to have that same nightmare, then she'd rather be awake.
"Ms. Alayna, your vitals are increasing, may I suggest alerting a member of the team?" Jarvis' voice rang out quietly.
By this point, Lainey was pretty used to Jarvis and his presence within the Tower. At first, she had been scared senseless after hearing his voice coming out of absolutely nowhere.
But when Clint explained to her, that it was just Tony's Artificial Intelligence at work, and it wouldn't hurt her, she had mellowed out significantly.
She even started to like him.
"N-No." She tried taking deep breaths to calm her breathing, but it was like her lungs were demanding a surplus of air that she couldn't provide. "I'm fine."
"With all due respect, you do not seem fine."
"I'm okay…..promise." She pulled her blankets back and slid off her bed, leaving her room with the stealth of a cat in an alleyway.
Since everyone was probably asleep, maybe going out to the kitchen for some coffee wouldn't be such a bad idea.
That way, she wouldn't be bothering anyone and she wouldn't have to go back to sleep.
Wrong.
There was already someone in the kitchen, sitting at the island, sipping on a hot beverage.
Natasha.
She was better off in her room.
"What are you doing up?" The woman's raspy voice stopped her in her tracks.
Lainey was going to ask her how she even knew she was there, but came to the conclusion that since Natasha was a spy, she knew everything.
It was probably in her best interest not to ask her any questions.
She knew all about the Black Widow and her reputation. It preceded her.
In fact, in order to frighten her into behaving, her mother used to tell her all sorts of stories about the former assassin.
"You know, sometimes…...I can't sleep." The woman continued to speak after receiving no answer, never ever glancing over at the child. "And I come in here to make myself some hot cocoa. It always helps. Would you like a cup?"
Natasha had to admit, she had been extremely cautious of the little girl ever since they had arrested her mother, who was now in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody for her heinous crimes that no one would divulge with Lainey, and she was beginning to feel a little guilty.
Lainey seemed like a really good kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She could understand that better than most.
"Yes." Lainey didn't know exactly why she had agreed.
She wouldn't admit it, not even to herself, but some part of her really wanted to get to know Natasha.
She was interesting to her.
"C'mere." Natasha poured her a cup of the chocolatey beverage as she sat down beside her. "Wanna tell me why you're up?"
"I had a bad dream." It was so much easier for Lainey to open up to Natasha than it had been with anyone else.
And she didn't even know her.
"Oh yeah?" Natasha's eyebrows quirked as she took a sip. "What about?"
"Home." And the girl didn't feel like she had to stop there. She felt like Natasha actually wanted to listen to what she had to say. "I have to tell you something."
"I'm listening."
"I lied to you." She admitted. "That day when I said I didn't know what my mom was doing…..I lied."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"I understand." Natasha waved her off. "How are those bruises healing?"
The question made Lainey freeze. What did she know about that?
"You were in med-bay for a while. You think we didn't notice?" The former assassin arched a brow. "How'd you get them?"
She had found the bruises on Lainey's body when she was asked to change her into a gown.
When she saw them, her skin crawled with disgust.
Who could do that to a child?
"My mom…..we train together everyday. I wasn't paying attention…..it was my fault."
Natasha's blood boiled at the revelation that Lainey's mother had practically been creating a child soldier.
Given her upbringing, it was no surprise that that triggered her.
But she kept it to herself. She didn't want to scare the girl with her reaction.
"Are you finished with your hot cocoa?"
"Yeah." Lainey set the empty mug down.
"C'mon, let's get you back to bed."
The redhead stood up and helped the child off of the stool, frowning when her fingers registered that her pajamas were damp.
If she had been sweating like that, then it must've been a night terror, not a nightmare.
Maybe she'd get Steve to talk to her about it. The kid seemed to like him well enough.
The two of them had hit it off pretty well. She even took a liking to watching him draw and sketch some afternoons.
And he didn't mind the company.
"I don't wanna go back to sleep."
"You have to go to sleep." Natasha led her to her room and motioned for her to sit down on her bed while she went through her drawers, fishing for new pajamas. "If you don't, you'll be tired tomorrow morning. Arms up."
Hmm. Natasha didn't seem to be as bad as her mother made her out to be.
There was nothing scary about her helping Lainey into her pajamas. Her mother had never done that.
"When do I get to go home?" Lainey asked, lifting her arms so that Natasha could pull her shirt over her head and replace it with a new one. "…..Do I get to go home?"
The Russian took that time to keep an eye on her contusions to make sure they were healing properly.
So far, everything looked good.
"Well…..your mother is in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody. Things are a little too complicated for you to understand right now…..but it's for the best."
"I'm not going home." The eight year old surmised.
And she sounded so defeated that Natasha got the sudden urge to scoop her up and cradle her.
It would've been a little out of the ordinary for her, and besides, she didn't think it'd be very well received.
Maybe Lainey didn't want to be held. Maybe she didn't even like physical comfort.
She wouldn't blame her one bit if she didn't.
"No." Is what she said instead. "But, we arranged for you to stay here."
"For how long?"
"As long as you'd like, kid."
And it was true.
Every member of the team sat down and discussed what would happen to Lainey since her mother was now a convicted criminal.
Fury suggested temporary placement until they could find someone to take her in, but the Avengers weren't too keen on the idea.
In fact, Natasha herself spoke up and offered to take guardianship over the girl.
A shock, to say the least.
She hadn't interacted very much with the small girl, but she was kind of growing on her.
She had seen the way that she bonded with Steve (whether she thinks she did or not) and how she interacted with everyone else.
The girl was very shy and adult-like. She never really spoke unless she was spoken to and she seemed to be scared of anything that moved.
Steve was some kind of gem getting her to open up the way she did.
Natasha didn't think it was right to let her get so comfortable there just to place her somewhere else.
She needed stability and structure that would apply well enough to a child her age.
Besides, who's to say that she wouldn't end up in a worse situation than what she had with her own mother?
No. She was staying at the Tower.
"Oh." Lainey took a second to think about what she had just been told before asking another question. "When do I have to start training?"
"Never." Natasha didn't even hesitate.
"Never? But then I'll start to slow down! I'm too small to slow down!"
What was Natasha talking about?
If she never trained again, it would leave her vulnerable for attacks! Weak even!
She couldn't lose all that skill she had worked so hard to maintain!
She had to get stronger! Faster! Better!
One day she was going to need those skills and she had to be prepared.
"Lainey, listen to me. The way you and your mother trained was wrong. You are eight years old and you shouldn't be training like that. You should be allowed to be a kid."
A kid?
"Like on tv?" Lainey's head cocked to the side like a confused puppy.
She had seen the way kids behaved on television and she wasn't sure that's how she was supposed to be.
Her classmates were closer to the images she watched on screen, but she didn't think herself capable of being so...childish.
Children are weak. There's no room for weakness.
"Like on tv…..but better." The Russian could feel her heart breaking for the girl, but shoved her feelings down as not to startle her. "Let's get these pajamas on so you can go to bed. It's late."
"Okay." The kid allowed Natasha to help her into the new pajama bottoms before she crawled back underneath the covers, staring at her with light blue eyes.
"Lay down, close your eyes." The woman smiled, cupping her chin. She couldn't help herself that time.
And at first, Lainey flinched at the idea of contact.
But when she remembered that there was a low chance of Natasha wanting to hurt her, she relaxed into the touch.
She even leaned into it.
And it felt really, really nice.
She couldn't remember the last time someone had been that gentle with her.
She didn't know if anyone could be that gentle.
Natasha's hand was soft and warm, and if she kept holding her like that, Lainey was sure she'd fall asleep.
"It's time for bed." If Natasha noticed her unusual reaction, she sure didn't say anything. "Sleep tight, okay?' She smoothed some hair away from the girl's face.
"Goodnight, Ms. Natasha."
"Good morning, Natasha." Steve greeted as he entered the kitchen. "You're up really early this morning, something on your mind?"
"Yeah, that kid." Natasha didn't even bother to look at him, her eyes were unfocused. "Lainey."
"What about her? Did she do something?"
Steve remembered all the too well, when Lainey had attacked him the afternoon they had met.
He, of course, didn't blame her, but he did wonder how on earth a child her age could be so….skilled.
But Natasha didn't answer.
"Natasha." He tried to snap her out of whatever trance she was in. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
"She had a nightmare last night."
Steve knew he had to tread lightly, because it looked like the woman was disassociating. The glazed eyes, flickering emotions, the delayed responses. All classic signs of disassociation. "Did she tell you what it was about?"
"She said it was about her home life…..Steve those bruises we found all over her she—"
"How'd she get them?"
"Her mother. That woman trained her. Like some sort of soldier." Natasha's green eyes darkened as she came back to reality.
Clint and Fury both had spoken to Steve about the Red Room where Natasha had been raised, so he knew enough to see that, obviously, Lainey's prior situation was very similar.
But the new knowledge made anger rise through his chest. Lainey wasn't even in her double digits, what kind of mother would raise a child in that manner?
"Well, it's a good thing she isn't going back. Did you tell her she's staying here?"
"Of course I did, and do you know what she asked me? She asked me when she was supposed to start training, like it was normal." Her nostrils flared in fury (haha, 'fury'). "It's lucky we found her when we did, because a few more years and she would've ended up—"
Like me. Were the words left unspoken.
But somehow, they were the loudest ones.