Natasha Romanoff was sitting at the kitchen table, sifting through a small pile of classified files, her red hair tied back in a no-nonsense ponytail. The quiet hum of the safehouse filled the air as you sat nearby, your small hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater. You’d been here for weeks, under Natasha’s care, and though she was doing her best, you couldn’t help but feel the ache of Wanda’s absence.

Your heart ached to see your mom—Wanda Maximoff. She wasn’t just your mom; she was your safe haven, your warmth, your everything. But things had changed after Kamar-Taj. Wanda had done things—terrible things, they said. She was dangerous now, a monster in the eyes of the world. That’s why Natasha had taken you in, to protect you.

But no amount of Natasha’s care could fill the void.

“Natasha?” you whispered softly, your voice trembling as you stood by the table.

She looked up, her green eyes softening slightly. “What is it, kid?”

“Can we—” You hesitated, your throat tightening. “Can we go see Mom? Please? Just for a little while. I promise I’ll be good.”

Natasha’s expression hardened instantly, her jaw clenching. She put down the folder and leaned back in her chair. “We’ve talked about this.”

“But—”

“No.” Her voice was firm but not unkind. “You can’t see her.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice cracked. “Why? She’s my mom! She loves me, and I miss her!”

Natasha stood, walking over to kneel in front of you. She placed her hands gently on your shoulders, her gaze steady but filled with an unmistakable sadness. “She’s not the same person right now, okay? Wanda… she’s done things—things that aren’t safe. For anyone. Especially not for you.”

Natasha sighed, her hands dropping from your shoulders as she stood up, pacing the room. “You can’t understand it now, but she’s… she’s not good right now. She’s bad.”