Don't fuck with my kids
Rosalie sits in the backseat as Robin drives to the address she got when she called in a favor from one of the many soldiers she had helped back in the Red Room.
He lived alone in a two-bedroom house. Melina easily picks the lock to his front door.
He’s watching a football game on the television when they enter and doesn’t even have time to go for a weapon when Robin shoots him in the knee, the silencer on the gun Rosalie gave her easily muffling the noise over the loud cheers of the game.
They secure him to a kitchen chair and he curses them out.
“Fucking little bitch!” He hissed, spitting at them. “She fucking told, didn’t she?”
Rosalie stands back, folding her arms as she watches Melina and Robin circle him like sharks. Rosalie was just there to watch the show and provide an alibi and weapons.
Robin interrogates him about how many times he touched Natasha. What he did to her.
It’s not that she didn’t trust Natasha, she just wanted to see if he’d lie his way out of it.
Instead, he goes on to describe things he did to Natasha that she didn’t even mention.
He seems to enjoy just how pissed they get with each word that comes out of his mouth. He brags about how little Natasha didn’t cry at all and only asked him to stop once.
Melina’s the one that slams the knife down right between his legs, enjoying the way he jumps when her knife grazes his privates.
Once they’re done bleeding him for answers, Robin asks Rosalie for her hand.
Rosalie and Melina tilt the chair back at a forty-five-degree angle, per Robin’s instructions. Robin grabs the knife, cuts through his shirt, and then starts to cut.
The wonderful thing about receiving victims of torture in the Red Room was asking how it happened and witnessing the aftermath.
Robin knew just where to cut so he wouldn’t pass out too soon. She carefully peels away at his skin until she ensures he can see inside his own abdomen.
That’s when she destroys everything inside him. She does make a bit of a mess but she makes each cut with precision.
By the time she’s finished, he’s bled out and died, Melina and Rosalie’s hands holding his head still and forcing him to peer down at what Robin had done.
The three clean up and then search his house for anything that could be connected to the Red Room. Melina’s the one that finds his files on his current mission objective.
She’s also the one that finds photos he took. Natasha wasn’t the only little girl he had touched.
They take Natasha’s pictures from the pile, take any and all evidence of the Red Room, and leave.
Nobody says anything on the drive back. Robin drops Rosalie off at her house first.
“You’ll clam it?” Robin finally spoke.
“I did it,” Rosalie inclines her head before turning to head back into her house with the weapons they used stored on her person.
Melina is the one to go in and pay the babysitter when they arrive home. Robin has a few sprinkles of blood on her and she would rather no questions be asked.
Robin immediately heads into the shower once she’s inside. She hadn’t had to kill anybody in a while and she had certainly never tortured anybody to such a degree.
Once again, she wrestles with the thought of what makes a monster.
Is she truly a monster if she was protecting her child?
Mothers all around the world are prosecuted and jailed for murdering their child’s rapist but Robin can’t remember them ever being referred to as monsters.
Robin was just doing what she had to. She promised to look after these Widows and that was what she was doing.
But if she is a monster then what is stopping her from hurting them next? From going too far and crossing the line?
Robin takes far longer showering than she should have, stepping out and dressing. She can hear the muffled conversation that Melina has with Natasha in the bedroom.
“Did you kill him?” Natasha asked quietly. Robin steps out to answer.
Robin will not lie to Natasha. She does not make promises that she cannot keep. When she promised Natasha that he’d never touch her again, she kept that promise. “Yes.”
Natasha doesn’t look upset. She’s been exposed to enough death to become desensitized to it and that fact breaks Robin’s heart.
Robin scoops her oldest baby up and cradles her close, feeling the sleepy child nuzzle into the warmth of her flushed skin from her hot shower. “Do you want me to walk and sway or do you want to lay down?”
“Carry me?” Natasha tucks her head against the crook of Robin’s neck, curling her fingers into Robin’s shirt.
Robin cannot deny her. She paces the length of the bedroom, gently rubbing Natasha’s back as she feels the sleepy child droop against her until she’s asleep.
Neither Robin nor Melina sleep that night. They take turns passing the copper-haired child between them and pacing the length of the room, rubbing her back and whispering into her red hair gently when she becomes unsettled from her dreams.
Neither of them mentions what they had done the night before but they both hold their eldest child just a little closer.
Rosalie shows up on their doorstep two days after they kill the soldier. She doesn’t call ahead but she left a text to expect her sometime that day.
Rosalie nearly crumples as soon as she steps in the house and Robin can easily spot that the slightly dark patch against her black shirt is blood.
“I claimed your kill,” Rosalie murmurs to Robin. “I took the fall. We’re even now, yeah?”
“Yes,” Robin helped Rosalie up the stairs. Melina had heard Rosalie and ushered Natasha and Yelena into the nursery so they wouldn’t see Rosalie.
Rosalie winces when she hops up onto the metal examination table in Robin’s office. “Oh, that burns like a motherfucker.”
“What happened?” Robin pulls on a pair of gloves and approaches Rosalie.
“Few things. A knife. Worst thing about Widows is they know where to stab to not kill but to cause pain,” Rosalie hisses when Robin peels her shirt up and away from the wound.
“I need to either cut your shirt off or you need to raise your arms above your head to let me help you out of it,” Robin informs Rosalie.
“Eh, I can always get another shirt…” Rosalie murmurs and Robin twists to grab a pair of scissors.
Rosalie’s torso reminded Robin of her own. Scarred and marked. A roadmap of where she’s been and what she’s done.
They’re both just soldiers.
Robin cuts the shirt away and dumps it into the trashcan before she helps Rosalie lay back. Rosalie lets out a hiss when she lay back on welt marks and bruises forming on her back.
Robin starts to stitch the knife wound up, quiet for a few moments before she finally spoke. “I appreciate you sticking to the terms of our deal.”
“Please, that piece of filth deserved to die. You didn’t go easy on him. I’ve never seen someone expertly cut open someone and make them watch as you fiddle with their insides,” Rosalie sounded impressed.
“I’ve picked up a few things over the years,” Robin replies idly, stitching the wound closed and covering it with a bandage. “Anything broken?”
“Maybe my ego?” Rosalie gives Robin a sweet smile.
Robin rolls her eyes, pulling her gloves off. “I’ll grab you a shirt to wear.”
“Wait--” Rosalie reaches out to grab Robin’s wrist and it’s only because of the favor she did for Robin that the tall woman didn’t turn and slap her for daring to grab her.
“What?” Robin demands, in no mood to play around with Rosalie.
“Your oldest Widow works for SHIELD, right?” Rosalie inquired and Robin paused, trying to figure out what angle Rosalie was playing at.
“My wife works as a scientist,” She replies evenly, neither confirming nor denying it.
Rosalie slowly nods her head. “She’s not the only double-agent there.”
“I already know that,” Robin knew that there were more Widows and Red Room agents stationed at SHIELD.
“No, no,” Rosalie shakes her head, leaning forward and cupping a hand over her stomach so she can lower her voice. “Not Red Room.”
Robin furrows her brow. “How do you know this? Who is it?”
Rosalie gives Robin a small smile before leaning forward to whisper. “Hail Hydra.”