Pretending to pretend
At least Belka could follow instructions, Robin thought as she entered her office to find the woman kneeling next to her desk, one of the thicker bamboo strips clutched in her fingers.
Robin closed the office door behind her before locking it. “When was the last time you were punished?”
“Two months ago, ma’am,” Belka replies, her chin jutting out stubbornly as she bowed her head.
Robin holds her hand out for the stick. “Stand up.”
Belka gracefully climbs to her feet and sets the stick into Robin’s hands.
Robin thinks about how Natasha and Melina thought they would be punished. “Strip.” Robin manages to say without her voice wavering.
Belka strips and folds her clothes neatly.
“Tell me why you are going to get swats?” Robin orders, her fingers wrapping around the stick tightly to keep from shaking.
“I forgot my place,” Belka repeats obediently.
“Good. Hands on the wall and spread your legs shoulder width. You will count each one out loud,” Robin tries to think of a good number. “You’ll receive fifty.”
Belka moves to do as Robin instructed, her head bowed as she tenses up in anticipation of the first hit.
Robin sends the first hit and Belka doesn’t even wince.
Robin keeps a steady pace, not going lightly or hesitating. She clenches her jaw when she leaves behind red welts that fade to a deep purple by the time that she finishes.
Near the end, Belka’s breath hitched and she winced with every hit, and Robin forces herself to continue.
Robin drops the stick back into the umbrella stand when she finished. “Kneel.”
Belka lowers herself down to her knees while Robin focuses on taking a few deep breaths.
Robin glances at her before kneeling in front of her, reaching out to grab her chin. “You are not in control of my widows. I am. Dare to touch one of them again and next time I will go until I break your skin and you cry.”
“I don’t cry,” Belka replies, avoiding eye contact with her.
“Then I guess we’d be in here for a while,” Robin lets her chin go. “Get dressed.”
Robin moves to sit in her office chair as Belka pulls her clothes back on, wincing at the fabric touching her sore skin.
Robin watched her for a few moments before beckoning her over. “Come here.”
Belka clenches her jaw as she approached Robin.
Robin really hoped that what she was about to do wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass. “Kneel in front of me.”
A brief flicker of disgust flashes over Belka’s face before she kneels and reaches for the waistband of Robin’s pants.
Robin grabs her wrists to stop her, pushing her hands away, and instead reaches out to guide Belka’s head to rest on her thigh. Belka is tense under her touch and keeps trying to pull away.
Robin runs her fingers gently over the top of her head. “You can tell General Dreykov that I have not gone soft.”
Belka is tense under her touch and Robin forces herself to remember that this is a woman, a person.
“When training dogs one is more likely to get results with treats rather than with fear,” Robin continues, pulling the bobby pin keeping Belka’s hair neatly pinned up out. “We are still human, Belka. We all bleed and one day we will all die.”
Belka is quiet as Robin speaks. She slowly stops resiting against Robin’s touch but she doesn’t lean into it.
“You are in my house. My rules are different. Do you understand that?” Robin continues.
“Yes ma’am.” Belka replies, her jaw clenching and Robin can feel her swallow down bitter words from her place against her thigh.
“I train Widows differently than you do. Do not compare the way I handle my Widows. While under my roof you are my Widow. Is that understood?” Robin tells her, really hoping that this wouldn’t blow up in her face.
“Yes ma’am,” Belka echoes her previous answer.
Belka’s blue eyes flicker to finally meet Robin’s gaze. Robin isn’t as well versed in reading facial expressions as Widows but she can see the confusion and anger on Belka’s face. The woman felt humiliated by Robin.
Robin briefly runs her hand over the woman’s hair before pulling it away. “Get up.”
Like a rubber band, Belka snaps back away from Robin and is on her feet in a matter of moments.
“I want a copy of your reports after they’ve been sent to the general and filed away,” Robin tells her before nodding her head. “Leave.”
Robin and Belka had been in the office long enough for Robin to completely miss seeing the girls off. Melina would have already dropped Natasha and Yelena off and been at work by the time Robin finally glances at the clock.
Robin groans, dropping her head into her hands as she thinks about what the fuck she was doing.
She had hoped that finding some semblance between control and compassion would help Belka not be as harsh on the girls when they eventually went back to the Red Room. Robin needed to show her some form of kindness without Belka getting word back to General Dreykov that she was getting soft.
Robin stays shut in her office until the time rolled around for her to pick up the girls. Belka had pinned her hair back up and the mask was back on her face, the air of arrogance and grace radiating off of her.
Yelena was unusually quiet when Robin picked her up from daycare. Robin tries not to draw attention to the fact that the toddler stuck her thumb into her mouth as a form of self-soothing.
Natasha was silent when Robin picked her up. There are marks on her hand and the fingers on the hand with the cast again.
Robin doesn’t know if General Dreykov is testing her and pushing her to see just how far she’ll go before she snaps.
Natasha flinches when Robin parks the car and steps out, unbuckling Yelena and lifting her up into her arms. “Show me where your classroom is.”
Belka steps out of the car as well, moving to flank Robin’s right side.
“Robin--” Natasha whispers and Robin reaches out to grasp her shoulder. Natasha flinches again.
“Come on,” Robin had warned the teacher against laying his hands on her again. She had made a threat and now she had to follow through on it.
Natasha obediently leads Robin into the school and to the same classroom as before. Robin crouched in front of Natasha, setting Yelena onto her own feet, and then grabs Natasha’s hand and makes her hold Yelena’s. “Do not wander. Stay right here. I will be right back, okay?”
Natasha slowly nods her head. “Yes ma’am…” She whispers and stands stiffly against the wall. Yelena leans against Natasha’s side, the hand not occupied with her mouth was clutching Natasha’s.
Robin turns to glance at Belka before gesturing for her to enter the classroom first.
Belka looks at the two children standing against the wall before she enters the classroom.
The teacher glances at her and his face sours. “You.”
“I’m here with concerns about my daughter’s education,” Robin glanced pointedly at the cameras.
The man growls and pressed a few buttons on his laptop looking at her. “What the fuck are you doing back here?”
“What did I tell you the last time you dared to put your hand on my Widow?” Robin demands, approaching him. He steadily backs away from her as she approached, uncertainty flickering on his face.
“She was a brat today,” He scowls. “She needed to be put in her place.”
Robin grabs the front of his shirt and shoved him face up onto his desk. She reached out and grabbed one of the sharpened pencils. “What did I say?” She demands.
“You said not to touch her. Jesus--” He rolls his eyes and Robin moves the pencil over where she knew the scar of the bullet wound lay. She’d stitched the injury up herself. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Robin glances up at Belka who was watching the whole thing, waiting to see what Robin would do. “Belka.”
The woman’s blue eyes flickered to look up at her.
“Come help me keep him quiet,” Robin orders and Belka doesn’t hesitate to close the distance between them. She grabs a microfiber cloth that had been used to clean the whiteboards and stuffs it into his mouth, her fingers digging into his jaws to get him to open.
The man twists, his hands moving to grab something to defend himself with but Belka pins his shoulders down.
Robin drives the sharp end of the pencil against the scar tissue and the man lets out a muffled howl, jerking on the desk and knocking papers on the ground.
Robin clenches her jaw, inhaling sharply before twisting the pencil deeper and then letting it go, staring at the bright yellow pencil sticking out of him.
Belka lets his shoulders go and he rips the cloth from his mouth, obscenities flowing as he grabs at the area around the object embedded in his skin.
“Touch her again and I’ll use a pair of scissors next time,” Robin hissed at him. “Am I understood?”
“Yes!” He cries out. “Yes, fuck-- I understand!”
“Good,” Robin starts to walk toward the door. “Don’t make me come back.”
The two children are exactly where she left them just outside the door. Yelena squirms unhappily when Robin picks her back up and Natasha violently recoils when Robin reaches for her hand.
Robin walks with them back out to the car and drives them home.
Once Natasha is in her room doing homework, Robin carries Yelena into her office and sets her down.
Yelena looks up at Robin like she’s a stranger and guilt smacks Robin so hard that she has to sit down.
Robin was changing. She had once promised herself that she wasn’t a monster. That she couldn’t be. That she was just doing what she had to in order to survive.
Robin feels bile in the back of her throat. General Dreykov changed her. He was making her into something horrible. He was trying to see just how long it took until she snapped.
Her kids were afraid of her. They could see the change in her.
Robin was becoming the monster General Dreykov wanted her to be and he got it by exploiting what he thought to be her soft spot.
Threatening her family.