For now, we are family
Robin is woken up in the middle of the night to the cries of a toddler. It takes a few moments for her to gain her bearing and the previous day to swim to the front of her mind.
Right. Children. She was a mother now and should probably go look after the toddler. She sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she stands. Melina is curled on the very far side of the bed, as far away from Robin as possible. There’s no way that she doesn’t hear the whining echoing down the hallway.
Robin lets out a sigh and runs a hand through her hair as she shuffles out of the bedroom and down the hall. Yelena is in tears, confusion, and fear on her face as she cries out uncertainly. Robin moves toward her and scoops her up into her arms. “Shh, it’s okay. Mama’s got you.” Robin reiterates the words again, hoping to take advantage of the disorientation from the drugs and her young mind. “Mama’s got you.”
Yelena clings to the only source of comfort she’s given, wailing as she curls her fingers into Robin’s pajama top. Robin pats her back and sways slightly, trying to remember the child psychology courses she was provided to care for the younger widows. The youngest widows she’d taken care of before this was fourteen.
She experiments between stroking the girl's hair and patting her back, seeing what soothes the toddler the most. The toddler takes a while to settle but Robin keeps repeating the phrase. “Mama’s got you. You’re okay.”
Yelena buries her face into Robin’s pajama top, curling her tiny fingers into fists. It takes nearly an hour to settle Yelena down from the hysterics she had gone into and another one after that until Yelena is asleep once again.
She gently pries the tiny fingers from her shirt and settles the toddler back down in the crib. Once Robin is sure that Yelena is asleep she leaves the bedroom quietly and heads back to bed, absolutely exhausted. She curls back up on the right side of the bed and falls back asleep.
She’s woken up the next morning by Melina shaking her shoulder. The clock on her nightstand tells her that it’s only six in the morning and that she’d managed to get four hours of sleep. She lets out a sigh, sitting up and yawning. “Are the girls up yet?” She asked.
“No.” Melina shakes her head, already dressed and ready for the day.
“I’ll go get Yelena,” Robin reaches out and grasps the handcuff key she had set on the nightstand the previous night. “You should go get Natasha.”
Melina takes the key without a word and slips out of the room. Robin sighs, running a hand through her hair. They’d work on communication later on. She instead stands and stretches for a moment before checking in on Yelena.
Yelena is already awake, perking up when she sees Robin entering the bedroom. “Mama…” She whispers, reaching her arms up to Robin.
“Mama’s here,” Robin can’t help but coo as she scoops Yelena up into her arms. The toddler tucks her cheek against Robin’s shoulder with a little sigh of content. Robin was content to just hold Yelena for a few moments. She had to admit that there was something soothing about holding Yelena. The warmth, the smell, just the sensation of having a young child in her arms after years of not even seeing an infant.
There is the sound of muffled raised voices coming from the next room that pulls Robin out of her musings. She quickly moves down the hallway to Natasha’s room.
“Widow, stop it,” Melina’s voice was cold when Robin enters. She takes a moment to glance around the room. Melina is angry and Natasha has tucked herself in the corner of the room to make herself small.
“Melina.” Robin watches the older widow tense at her name. “Here. Take Yelena downstairs.” She pushes the sleepy toddler into Melina’s arms. The woman scrambles to hold the girl close so that she wouldn’t drop her. “Now.”
Melina clenches her jaw but disappears from the bedroom and Robin glances at Natasha before looking at the bed. It becomes clear quite quickly what the issue was. There is a dark spot on the bed and the front of Natasha’s pajamas.
Robin was a doctor and had dealt with bodily fluids before. It wasn’t an issue. She’d been vomited on, pissed on, and bled on more times than she can count. “Do you wet the bed often?” She asked Natasha, moving to start stripping the sheets.
Natasha was quiet, still pressed as tightly as she can against the corner of the room.
“Natasha?” Robin prompts, bundling up the soiled sheets.
“I apologize, I won’t do it again,” Natasha finally said quietly, shame on her face.
“That’s not what I asked,” Robin moves toward the closet and grabs some fresh clothes for the girl. “Come on. Into the bathroom.”
Natasha hesitantly peels herself away from the wall and follows Robin into the bathroom, watching as Robin starts a shower. “You didn’t answer my question.” Robin reminds her.
“No ma’am,” Natasha shakes her head quickly. “It won’t happen again. I apologize.”
“These things happen,” Robin shrugs, shoving the soiled sheets into the laundry hamper before testing the water with her hand.
She knew that bedwetting was a sign of trauma in children and that it was probably very likely to happen again. “I’m not upset with you. Strip and step into the shower and wash up.”
Natasha obediently trips and steps into the shower. Robin collects the pajamas up and takes the hamper to find the laundry room. She throws the contents into the washing machine and starts it up, returning just as Natasha finished dressing.
“What is my punishment?” Natasha asked quietly, her hands clasped in front of her as she waits. Robin grabs the hairbrush to sort through Natasha’s wet locks when the girl doesn’t.
“I’m not punishing you for bedwetting,” Robin thought it was foolish to punish for something she couldn’t control. But it doesn’t seem like General Dreykov or any of his employees would have an issue with punishing just because they can. “But as your doctor, your handler, and your mother, then I want you to get me if you have an accident again. Do you understand me?”
Robin works the comb through the girl’s copper hair, careful of knots and tangles.
“Yes ma’am,” Natasha nods her head and Robin placed a hand onto the girl’s neck to keep her still. Natasha’s hair fell just around her shoulders and was too short to be pulled back which struck Robin as odd because she knew that almost all widows kept their hair back in braids or tight buns. She figures it was cut recently for the mission.
“Good.” Robin finishes and sets the comb aside. “Let’s go see what the others are up to.”
Melina and Yelena were in the kitchen. Melina had set Yelena down on the kitchen floor as she rifled through the cabinets and took stock of what food they had in the house.
“Mama!” Yelena’s face lights up when she sees Robin, reaching her arms up toward her. Robin can’t help but smile at her.
“There’s my little one,” She coos, picking Yelena up and the toddler squirms gleefully. “Did mommy leave you on the ground? How rude.” She tries to reiterate the phrase the same way she did with ‘mama’.
“We don’t have a lot of food,” Melina interrupts Robin’s baby talk to Yelena. “Mainly non-perishables. Based on their dates, this mission has been planned for a while.”
“We can go grocery shopping today,” Robin glances up at Melina. “Announce ourselves to the town that way.”
Melina nods her head, not even acknowledging Natasha as she passes by her to peer into the fridge.
Robin knew that widows didn’t make friends with other widows. It was considered a weakness and would only get them killed. She needed Melina and Natasha to push that urge aside or they would end up blowing their cover.
Robin sets Yelena down, glancing at the older girl. “Natasha, think you could look after Yelena for a moment?” Robin asked her. Natasha glances up at her and gives a stiff nod. Robin then glances at Melina. “A word.”
Melina stiffens, closing the cabinet she was looking in, and follows Robin out into the hallway.
Robin needed to nip bad behavior in the bud before they thought it was okay to react that way. “What happened earlier with Natasha?” Robin asked, folding her arms.
Melina straightens as she gives her reply. “She soiled herself and tried to deny it.”
“So?” Robin frowns before letting out a sigh. “At this moment, and for the next year, she’s not a widow. She’s your daughter. Bedwetting is common in children. You need to stop being a widow and start being her mother.”
“I don’t know how to be a mother,” Melina comments and Robin makes another mental note on her already growing list to pick up some sort of parenting book for both her and Melina to go over.
Robin liked books. She liked having the information on hand. “Well, I’d start with not calling her ‘Widow’.” Robin focuses on the matter at hand, tilting her head to the side. “You need to have patience and you need to learn to handle Yelena. I cannot stay up with her every night when she cries.”
“I know,” Melina finally lets out a long sigh, showing the weariness in her frame. “I’ll work on it, ma’am.”
Robin steps forward and reaches up to gently cup one side of Melina’s face. Melina froze at the touch, her breath hitching. “We’re supposed to be married now. You cannot freeze every time that I touch you. You need to get used to me kissing your cheek or holding your hand.”
Melina manages to let out a small nod and Robin leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her cheek before pulling away.
“Yelena needs to learn to call you mommy,” Robin said when Melina doesn’t move or speak. “So you need to reiterate it to her that you are mommy. Spend more time with her.”
“She’s already calling you mama,” Melina finally gathers herself. “And she’s known you for a day.”
“She was half-drugged and distressed. She needed someone to attach to for comfort. It was easy to enforce it,” Robin shrugs her shoulders. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“What does it matter?” Melina clenches her jaw. “In a year they will be gone. There is no use in making habits that will only be broken when we return.”
Robin tries not to think about that. She doesn’t want to think about the harsh reality of the four of them returning to General Dreykov. How a four-year-old Yelena will cry out for her mama and her mommy as General Dreykov does whatever he has in mind for her. How they may manage to break the habit of Natasha using the handcuff only for her to go back to using it. How she will go back to fixing whatever poor soul got on the wrong end of General Dreykov’s anger.
“That is in the future. This is now,” Robin tells Melina firmly, shoving the thoughts aside to deal with later. “Lose the attitude with Natasha. That is an order.”
Melina tenses, bowing her head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Robin really hated ordering the widows around. She hated it even more when the widow would obey her without a word, even if their body language screams in anger and fear. She was but a doctor tasked with keeping people alive. Not a soldier. Not a general.
Just a measly doctor that didn’t stand out any more than the janitor. Why she in particular was picked for the mission was a mystery, even if she had a niggling in the back of her brain that whispered to her that she knew why General Dreykov really picked her.
“Mama!” Yelena calls out and Robin pulls on a friendly smile that she usually wore in hopes of comforting whoever was being patched up in her office.
“Yes, little one?” Robin enters the kitchen, scooping Yelena up and tickling her belly. The shriek of laughter that Yelena lets out causes Natasha to flinch but it helps unclench the pool of tense emotions that had settled in Robin’s stomach.
Yelena wraps her little arms around Robin’s neck and grips at the short dark hair on the back of her neck.
“You like my hair?” Robin mused with a laugh as she suppresses a flinch, reminding herself that this was a toddler pulling on her hair, not a guard or General Dreykov. “Very different from your pretty blonde hair.”
Yelena is content to tug on Robin’s hair as Melina enters the kitchen again.
“Are we going to the grocery store this morning?” Melina questioned Robin, her tone soft and it makes Robin want to sigh because she didn’t mean to frighten the woman.
Instead, Robin nods. “Yeah. I’m not content to eat instant meals for the rest of my life. Here, hold her while I go get changed.” Robin pries Yelena’s fingers from her hair and holds her out to Melina.
Melina takes her and Robin glances at Natasha. “Go grab some socks.” She tells the girl before heading upstairs to get changed.
Robin pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Some fool must have found it funny to put most of her clothes in some hue of Robin’s egg blue. She finger-combs her hair until it isn’t sticking straight up and is relatively tamed before she checks in on Natasha.
Natasha was still standing in front of her closet, staring at the selection of socks in the closet. She glances at Robin when she enters. “Which one do I wear?” She whispers uncertainly as her gaze flickers back to the pile of socks.
Robin reaches out and grabs the pale yellow socks off the top of the pile and passes it to Natasha. “Put them on and go put your shoes on.”
Natasha takes the socks and ducks out of the room quickly. Robin passes by her office where she saw Melina dropped off the important files last night. She quickly thumbs through the medical charts to look for food allergies. She was glad to see that there were no allergies listed.
Then again, they were used to Russian foods, not American. They might stumble upon something. Robin wonders if she has epi-pens in the variety of supplies she was provided with.
She tucks the files away and heads downstairs to pull her boots on, taking a moment to watch Natasha struggle with her laces. Natasha’s jaw is clenched, determination on her face as she makes attempt after attempt.
Robin sighs, kneeling in front of Natasha, and pulls her foot up onto her knee. Natasha wobbles for a moment, steadying herself on Robin’s shoulders before jerking her hands away.
“You can hold onto me if you need to,” Robin tells her, quickly tying Natasha’s laces and taps her foot for her to switch feet. Natasha’s touch was light as she easily balanced and switched feet. Robin makes a mental note to teach Natasha to tie her shoes as Melina finally appears, holding Yelena in her arms.
Robin rises to her feet and grabs the car keys that had been hung on the hook next to the front door. “Alright. Let’s move out.”
Natasha gets herself seated and buckled in while Robin shows Melina how to buckle up Yelena’s five-point harness and secure the toddler into her seat even if said toddler squirms and protests.
Melina then slips into the driver's seat once more and Robin sits in the passenger seat, letting out a breath of air as she glances at the two children in the back. “Ready?”
Nobody replies but they take off to the grocery store anyway