The compound looked the same. Maybe a little quieter, a little emptier. Or maybe that was just you, standing outside, hesitating before stepping in. It had been years since you left, slamming the door behind you after one too many fights with Natasha. But something in you—maybe hope, maybe exhaustion—had pulled you back.

Inside, it smelled familiar. Clean, with that faint scent of Natasha’s perfume lingering in the air. She was standing in the kitchen, her back to you, rinsing out a coffee mug. It was strange, seeing her do something so normal. For so long, she had been untouchable in your mind—Black Widow, the impossible force. But right now, she was just… your mother.

She must have sensed you before you spoke, because she froze. Her shoulders tensed before she slowly turned around. Green eyes met yours, and for a long moment, neither of you said a word.

You expected anger. You expected some sharp remark, a defense mechanism, something to keep you at arm’s length. But what you didn’t expect was the way her face softened. The way her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say your name but wasn’t sure if she had the right.

“…You’re back.” Her voice was quiet. Uncertain.