A mother: a woman in relation to her child or children.

That's something you've always wanted. Even if you didn't have one. Or that's what you thought. You didn't have one. It had been a major absence in your life.

And now here you were, sitting in an interrogation room with Natasha Romanoff- or better yet . . your mother? What?

"So you're saying.. you're my mother?" You said in disbelief.

She nodded, watching you with a careful gaze. She didn't know how you would feel. It was her fault of course, for not being there. For not getting you out of the Red Room long enough.

"Yeah. I'm your mother. I know it's a shock." She sighed quietly.