The Soldier
The week following Robin’s return from visiting General Dreykov was busy.
Yelena had revealed to her daycare that on top of Russian and English, she also spoke German. Robin made up an excuse about how her own parents and how her father’s half of the family was from Germany while her mother’s half came from Russia.
That explained why her baby spoke three languages.
Robin sets Yelena on her lap when they get home and tells her that she can only speak English while at daycare. Yelena doesn’t quite grasp why. All of her other homes had encouraged the multilingual toddler.
Robin doesn’t want Yelena to never speak anything but English ever. She just can’t have her blowing their cover. So in exchange for Yelena sticking to English and a little bit of Russian at her daycare, she and Robin will play games.
On the half of the week that Yelena doesn’t go to daycare, Robin holds up items and will ask Yelena for their names and Yelena is to list the name in as many languages as she could.
It was Yelena’s favorite game. During lunch, Robin would hold up an ingredient or an object and ask Yelena. “Tell me spoon.” Yelena would then ramble on the word ‘spoon’ in as many languages that she knew the word in.
While Yelena settled in and thrived at daycare, making friends and doing arts projects, Natasha seemed to struggle with school.
Each time that Robin picked Natasha up from school, the child was quiet and withdrawn and would be until later that evening.
Then Robin picks Natasha up from school and spots red marks crisscrossing on Natasha’s hands. “What happened?” Robin grasps Natasha’s wrists to turn her hands over and has her flex her fingers.
“The soldier,” Natasha murmurs cryptically and Robin glances at her.
“What soldier?” Robin questioned with a frown, trying to think of why and why could have made these marks on Natasha’s. She’s seen similar ones and she wants to be wrong.
Natasha looks up at her, surprise and confusion on her face. “The one that teaches my class. The soldier.”
Robin’s heart drops because there are only so many meanings that sentence could be. “We’ll talk about this at home.”
Robin turns the radio up on the way back and listens to Yelena babble along to the songs that she recognizes.
Robin gives Natasha time to collect herself as she prepares a snack for her. Robin holds an apple out to Yelena. “What’s this called?”
Yelena grinned toothily and bounced on her feet as she runs through the list of languages she knows, letting out a squeal of giggles when Robin praised her.
Natasha sits at the counter, her hands tucked securely under her armpits as Robin sets peanut butter apple slices in front of her.
When Natasha doesn’t make a move, Robin speaks. “Tell me about the soldier.”
“I thought you knew…” Natasha said quietly, poking at the peanut butter on her apple slices before folding in on herself. “There’s a soldier from…” She hesitates. “The other place… He teaches my class. He makes sure that I sit with the children from the photos. My mission. He ensures that I make friends with them.”
Robin should have known. She briefly glances away from Natasha when Yelena tugs on her jeans and holds her arms up before demanding to be held. With Yelena now on her hip and playing with her hair, Robin turns her gaze to Natasha. “What did he do to your hands?”
Natasha shrugs slightly, her head bowed as she stared at the plate in front of her.
“Natasha, look at me and answer,” Robin tells her firmly, leaning against the counter. “You can tell me. What did he do?”
“He punished me… he used a ruler and hit my hands,” Natasha finally said quietly before glancing up at her briefly. “I’m sorry.”
Robin lets out a small sigh and straightens to move around the counter and stand next to her. Natasha tenses up but Robin only reaches out to smooth the hair out of Natasha’s face and kiss the top of her head. She feels Natasha’s surprise at the reaction.
“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart,” Robin reassures her. “I’ll deal with it.”
Natasha finally picks up one of the apple slices and takes a bite, gradually relaxing under Robin’s touch until she leans against Robin’s side as she eats.
Robin changes into her pajamas that night with Melina and tells her of the situation. Asks if she somehow knew.
“I didn’t…” Melina replies with a small frown, glancing at Robin briefly. “If he singles her out then… he’s going to blow his own cover at this rate.”
Robin sighs. “I need to deal with it. I’m going to take Natasha to school tomorrow morning and deal with it.”
Melina moves toward her and pulls Robin down into a soft kiss. “Be careful.” Her fingers move to brush against the small marks the prongs of the cattle prod left behind on Robin’s hip.
“Of course,” Robin tucks a strand of hair out of Melina’s face and smiles at her gently.
Robin sits in the rocking chair in Natasha’s room and thinks. She should have known that there was a rat snitching to General Dreykov. She should have known that he’d know.
Robin takes Natasha to school the next morning, taking the child’s hand as they cross the parking lot to the school. With each step, Natasha clutches her hand just a little tighter. Robin doesn’t even think Natasha realizes it.
There are a few teachers lingering in the halls and getting ready for classes. “Which one is him?” Robin asks. Natasha points him out.
Robin has a vague memory of him. She had dug a bullet out of his shoulder after he provoked the wrong person with his big mouth. She had honestly assumed he had gotten killed with his inability to shut up.
“It’s you.” Robin comments as she approaches him. The man gives a dismissive hum before glancing up at her and visibly startling.
“It’s you--” He retorts, the child-friendly grin plastered on his face falling slightly when he sees her holding Natasha’s hand.
“Is there someplace we can talk about my child’s progress?” Robin tilts her head, the insinuation that she wanted someplace with no cameras or microphones.
He nods, opening the door to his classroom and gesturing for them to enter. He taps a few buttons on his laptop and Robin glances at the camera in the classroom.
“It’s off.” He tells her. “I didn’t realize that it was you pretending to be a mommy. A little below your pay grade, isn’t it?”
Robin lets go of Natasha’s hand and steps forward. “Shut up.” She snaps. “Are you stupid or just an asshole?”
He blinks in surprise before letting out a scoff and rolling his eyes. “It sounds to me that you’re getting soft.”
Robin shoves him against the wall. “No. You listen to me. You’re going to get your cover blown really fucking quickly if you keep laying your hands on my kid. You’re going to end up blowing my cover too.”
He lets out a snort. “See. Going soft. She’s a Widow that needs to be kept in line. I can do whatever I very well please.”
“She’s mine!” Robin snarls at him. “She has been put under my control! You do not get to lay your hands on her.”
“I smacked her about with a ruler,” He rolls his eyes, batting at her. “You probably don’t even punish her enough with your bleeding heart. All you doctors at the same. She’s going to get soft.”
Robin really hoped that Natasha would forgive her for what she was going to do, hear, and witness. “Widow.” She orders in a low and firm voice.
Natasha immediately straightened, her hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Do I punish you at home?” Robin questioned, her eyes locked with the man’s.
Natasha nods her head slowly. “You give me swats, ma’am. You correct me when I’m wrong.”
“I am her handler. She is mine,” Robin tells the man in a cold tone. “If you have a problem with my Widow then you tell me and I will deal with it. You are not to lay hands on her again.”
“And if I do?” He challenged, raising an eyebrow as he smirks.
“Then I am going to go to General Dreykov and tell him that you’re a risk to my mission,” Robin said, wiping the smirk from his face. She has the position of power here and they both know it.
The only good thing about General Dreykov’s fondness for her was her ability to use him as a threat.
He clenches his jaw, all playfulness disappearing from his body. “You’re such a fucking bitch.”
“And you’re an insufferable asshole. When the time comes, I’m going to ask General Dreykov for you personally and I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Robin said frostily, ensuring to grin at him widely.
He lunges forward and grabs the front of her shirt, yanking her close until their noses are touching. “I can tell General Dreykov that you’ve gone soft.” He whispers the threat. “That you coddle her far more than you should?”
“Where’s your proof? If it comes down between me and you, who is he going to choose? His faithful doctor heading his most recent experiment? Or a lowly soldier that can be expanded like cannon fodder?” Robin gives him a grin with too many teeth baring.
He shoves her away from him and she catches herself before she falls. “You come all the way here for putting marks on your fake kid.” He reminds her. “She’s not yours, don’t forget that. You’re a fucked up bitch that’ll never be a mommy and that kid is just going to end up fucking dirty men for information. She’s a Widow. She’s already killed. She doesn’t deserve whatever kindness you think you’re granting her.”
Robin doesn’t look at Natasha as she says her next words. They feel bitter and sour in her mouth. “Of course. She’s just a Widow.”
Natasha is still standing there, head bowed as she stares at the ground, stock still to make herself invisible.
“School starts in fifteen minutes. Get the fuck out of my classroom,” He tells her.
“Keep your hands off of her and watch your mouth and we won’t have any issues,” Robin tells him firmly before finally glancing at Natasha. “I’ve got to take a minute with the Widow and make sure that still understands her position.”
“The staff bathroom just around the corner is unlocked and very sound-proof,” He replies and Robin knows that he assumes she’s going to beat Natasha for making her come all the way out here.
Robin pulls a smile on her face as she sets a hand onto the back of Natasha’s neck to guide her out of the classroom, ignoring the flinch Natasha gave at her touch.
She pulls Natasha into the staff bathroom and locks the door behind her.
Natasha is hardly breathing with how stiff she carried herself. Robin sinks to her knees in front of Natasha. “Natasha, sweetheart, look at me,” Robin breathes out, hoping that she hadn’t ruined all of the progress she made with the girl over the past week and a half.
“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispers quietly. “I’ll be better. I promise, ma’am.”
“Don’t listen to anything that I just said,” Robin tells her firmly. “I needed him to know that I held the cards. I’m not angry or upset with you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
Natasha clenches her jaw and glances down at her shoes. “Can I-- may I have-- I need--” She stumbles over her words, letting out an angry huff when she can’t articulate what she wants before she holds her arms out like Yelena does when she wants to be held.
Although unexpected, Robin pulls Natasha into a hug and even though the girl asked for it, she still flinches at the touch.
The first warning bell rings, telling Natasha that she had five minutes to get to class.
Robin pulls away and looks down at Natasha before standing. “Let me know if he gives you more trouble. He’s not allowed to hurt you or punish you physically. Okay? Do I make myself clear?”
Natasha nods her head. “Okay.” She whispers.
Robin really doesn’t want to leave her, especially after what she did, but she has no choice. She tells Natasha to have a good day and ensures she makes it to the classroom before leaving.
Robin sits in the car in the parking lot for a while, taking a few deep breaths as guilt picks at her.
She told him that Natasha was nothing more than a Widow. It felt wrong saying it. It didn’t feel true. Natasha wasn’t just a Widow to her, not anymore.
Natasha was once again quiet and withdrawn when Robin picks her up that afternoon.
“Let me see your hands,” Robin tells her, watching as Natasha offers her hands out for Robin to inspect. “Did he strike you again?”
Natasha shakes her head. “No.” She whispers.
Robin drives them home and settles the girls in front of the television as she prepares a snack. She startles when she closed the fridge door only for Natasha to appear standing behind it. “What’s wrong?”
Natasha stares at her for a few moments before she reaches her arms out again. Robin sets the bag of carrot sticks she was holding down and reaches out to pull Natasha into a hug. Natasha still flinches and doesn’t wrap her arms around her in return but leans into the touch.
Robin holds Natasha in the kitchen and wonders just how many other spies there were looking in on her.