before then, we had made a wish that we would be missed

Robin can’t leave the house the next few days. Her body is covered in bruises and marks that ache fiercely. 

Melina lets a ‘rumor’ slip at work that Robin is a boxer. That she fights. They have a cover for the marks on her body.

Yelena doesn’t quite understand why Robin is hurt. Her curious fingers poke at Robin’s marks and scars that show when Robin’s shirt shifts just right. 

Melina’s glance constantly wanders to any scars that get exposed when Robin’s shirt rides up too high when she picks up Yelena. Natasha sometimes runs her fingers along the hem of Robin’s shirt and briefly slips a finger or two underneath just to feel the scars. Like she was afraid they wouldn’t be there and her Robin was gone and General Dreykov sent back an imposter.

“They’re owies. Boo-boo’s,” Robin tries to explain to Yelena the cruelness painted on her skin and marred in her flesh. It’s a difficult concept to explain to a curious three-year-old. 

How does Robin tell Yelena that one day she will be ripped away and shown just how cruel Man can be?

Yelena clings to Robin like she’s afraid the woman will leave and not return this time. 

Yelena imprinted on Robin as her mama. Robin didn’t come home one night and sudden abandonment issues flared up.

Orphanages and foster care weren’t great for attachment in young children. Yelena finally let herself attach to Robin and relied on the steady schedule that had been set out for her.

Yelena wakes up and wails for Robin in the middle of the night. 

Melina originally gets up to comfort her so that Robin can sleep it off. Robin’s body hurts and she just wants to lay in bed.

Melina can’t soothe her so Robin had to take over. 

Yelena sobs when she sees Robin, fisting her fingers into Robin’s shirt to pull her closer. 

“Mama--” Yelena yanks on Robin’s shirt. “Don’t go!”

“I’m right here, little one,” Robin bounces Yelena gently, trying to soothe the toddler. 

Yelena shakes her head. “No! Don’t go, mama. Don’t go!”

“Mama always comes back, you know that,” Robin moves to stroke Yelena’s hair. Yelena is nearly inconsolable, tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. 

“Mama!” Yelena pulls on Robin’s shirt again. “Mama. Mama---”

“Tell mama what you want, little one,” Robin coaxed, and Yelena worms her fingers under her shirt. 

“Touch, mama. Warm--” Yelena hiccups and Robin remembers one of the parenting books she picked up. 

Yelena and Natasha sometimes act younger than they are and Robin doesn’t mind it. She doesn’t care because they feel safe enough to be young and vulnerable and indulge in something that they needed but never received. 

Toddlers seeking something familiar. Sucking, touching, skin-to-skin, warmth. 

Robin hesitates, fearing to push past the boundary that she herself had set up before any of this. 

Robin didn’t want to let herself get attached.

It was too late. 

Yelena’s crying so hard that her small frame shakes. “Mama--”

“I hear you, little one,” Robin shifts and it takes a few moments before she’s able to remove her shirt. Yelena pays no attention to the bruises or scars, pressing against the skin Robin offered. 

Seeing the toddler start to settle slightly at the contact, Robin slowly pulls Yelena’s shirt off. Yelena even helps her, raising her arms to let Robin do so. 

Yelena then wraps her arms around Robin’s neck and threads her fingers into Robin’s hair as she pressed against her. The skin contact immediately soothes Yelena and the inconsolable toddler slowly shifts until she’s letting out hiccuping whimpers, salty tears drying on Robin’s skin.

“Mama…” Yelena whispers against Robin’s neck, bringing one of her thumbs up to her lips. 

“I’m here, little one,” Robin whispers back, pressing her lips gently against the top of Yelena’s head. “Mama’s got you.”

Yelena sniffles, sucking on her thumb as Robin sways them gently. 

“I hope that you like it in your little motel and I hope that the suit sleeps and suits you well.

Well, I can see it as time and a sight through smell and that’s why it’s nice to be by yourself,” Robin slowly starts to sing and feels Yelena settle closer to her. 

“Cause that’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for, aren’t I?

That’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for, darlin’,” Robin continues, her fingers gently stroking the soft blonde curls on Yelena’s head. “We treat mishaps like sinking ships and I know that I don’t want to be out to drift.

Well, I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips and they both tell me that we’re better than this.” 

Yelena’s breathing slows as she starts to fall asleep. “Cause that’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for, aren’t I?

That’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for, darlin’.” 

“We trade tit for tat like that for this and I don’t think that there was an insult that was missed.

I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips and I’m very sorry,” Robin kept her voice soft as she runs her thumb gently along Yelena’s flushed cheek. “Cause that’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for aren’t I?

That’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for.

That’s what I’m waiting for, darlin’.”

Yelena is slowly going limp, molding against Robin in a way that Robin had never seen before. “Remainders of a shooting star landed directly on our broke down little car.

Before then, we had made a wish that we would be missed if one or another just did not exist.”

Robin gently pressed her nose against the top of Yelena’s head to inhale the soft scent of baby shampoo that comforted her. “Cause that’s what we’re waiting for.

That’s what we’re waiting for.

That’s what we’re waiting on, aren’t we?...”

Robin’s voice fades slowly as Yelena gives a sleepy sigh around her thumb, her breath softly tickling Robin’s neck.

Robin swallows hard at the utter trust and adoration that Yelena held for her. She was this girl’s mama. The person meant to protect them and love them and keep them safe.

Yelena would be cruelly ripped from her in less than a year. She would be shoved with other children crying for their parents and trained to seduce and kill men. 

If Robin played her cards right and got back into General Dreykov’s favor then she might be able to barter for Yelena. She might be able to promise him a child for a child. His heir for some meaningless child that he would discard at the drop of a hat. 

Yelena was her baby. 

Yelena was hers. Her little one. Her daughter. It didn’t matter whether she carried her for nine months or not. 

They gave Robin a cover. A part to play. Then the lines blurred and it wasn’t just a part anymore. 

Robin had very few rules to survive and she broke the very first one. 

Never fall in love.

Robin inhales sharply, closing her eyes as she just holds her baby close. 

She holds Yelena long after her arms scream in protest and her muscles beg for her to put her down. 

Robin merely takes a seat in the rocking chair that had been removed from Natasha’s room, settling Yelena on her chest and watches her sleep. 

Her fingers idly stroke Yelena’s bare back, watching as she breathes and counts her heartbeat. Yelena drools on her shoulder and Robin can’t find it in herself to care. 

Robin watches her and doesn’t even see the sun come out until the door to the bedroom opens and Melina pauses at the sight. 

Robin feels foolish for being caught so vulnerable but she glances down at her baby on her chest and her worries melt away. 

I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips and I’m very sorry