I’m Star-Lord (SW Xover)

C87 Mother & Daughter

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Moments earlier, as Natasha approached the bar, her steps slow, her gaze fixed on Melina Vostokoff, the closest person she had to a mother, yet also the one she distrusted the most. 

Sitting there with a casual elegance, vodka martini in hand, Melina looked like any other patron enjoying her evening. But to Natasha, she was a ghost from the past, resurrecting a myriad of emotions she'd thought were long buried.

Melina caught her daughter's eye and smiled, a gesture that seemed genuine but felt like a veneer over something insidious. 

Natasha took the seat beside her, the air thick with tension. "Melina," she started, refusing to call her mom, "why are you here?"

Melina's smile didn't falter as she turned to face Natasha fully. "My dear, I heard you were out on your first real mission. I just wanted to see how you were doing." Her tone was sweet, too sweet.

Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Cut the crap. Did the General send you? What do you want?"

Ignoring the question, Melina's gaze briefly shifted towards the table where Peter and Peggy sat, now engaged in their curious game of questions. "Who's the boy?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I'm not here to talk about him," Natasha replied sharply, her guard up. 

Melina chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and something unspoken. "He's quite handsome. Is he your new boyfriend?"

The comment might have made Natasha react under different circumstances, but not today, not with Melina around. The woman who had left her and Yelena to the mercies of the Red Room, who had vanished without a trace, leaving them to fend for themselves in a brutal world. 

“I’m not telling you anything…” Natasha stated coldly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll ask again… why are you here?" She asked, her hand reaching for the gun hidden in her waistband. 

Melina's smile faded a bit, the facade slipping. "Natasha, I—"

"No," Natasha cut her off, her voice firm. "You don't get to play the concerned mother. Not after everything."

Melina's expression hardened, a rare glimpse into the genuine emotion she so often masked. "I was never given a choice," she said, her voice low and fraught with a pain she seldom showed. "You know how the Red Room operates. It was never about not wanting to see you..."

"But you never tried," Natasha countered, her anger rising. "You could've found a way. You're a Black Widow, trained to overcome any obstacle. Yet you couldn't fight hard enough for us, could you?"

Melina looked away, her jaw clenched. "It wasn't that simple, Natasha. Every move was watched, every decision scrutinized. It was about keeping you alive."

Natasha scoffed, shaking her head. "By abandoning us? That's your idea of protection?"

"I did what I thought was best," Melina whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "I regret it every day, but I did it to protect you."

The air between them grew colder, the silence stretching as Natasha processed her words. Finally, she spoke, her voice icy. "I don't need your protection. Not anymore."

Melina reached out, her hand hesitating in mid-air before retreating. "I understand. I just... I wanted to see you, to explain—"

"There's nothing to explain," Natasha interrupted, standing up abruptly. "Stay out of my life, Melina. It's better that way."

As Natasha stood, her resolve firm, she glanced over at Peter and Peggy, who were deep in conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, she turned and walked out of the restaurant, seeking some fresh air to settle her turbulent emotions after the intense confrontation with her mother.

Behind her, Melina watched her go, her expression a mix of sorrow and resignation. “…” Slowly, as she observed Natasha disappear through the door, her face hardened with determination. The sorrow faded into cold resolve as she stood up and followed her out.

…

As Natasha stepped outside into the cool night air, her emotions surged. For a moment, her composure nearly cracked, and she almost let out a few tears—feelings she hadn't experienced in years. 

Years ago, she might have been deceived by her mother's tactics and might have even felt joy and excitement at seeing her. But now, Natasha was wiser, hardened by bitter experiences. 

She suspected Melina's sudden appearance wasn't a coincidence—it likely had something to do with her failing to check in with the Red Room, distracted by everything that’s happened since Peter saved her life.

Walking down the crowded sidewalk, Natasha's thoughts spun. She questioned whether she even wanted to go back to the Red Room. After all, Peter had helped her see through the brainwashing, diminishing her loyalty to the organization that shaped her. 

Yet, a compelling reason anchored her to that dark place—Yelena, her little sister, was still there, being groomed into a Black Widow, just like her. Natasha couldn't abandon her sister, refusing to be like their parents. 

The idea of saving Yelena and escaping together flickered in her mind, a dangerous and difficult possibility, but one she felt increasingly drawn to consider. ‘I’ll have to be careful though…’

As she thought of Yelena, Natasha debated whether to tell her about Melina's visit. Ultimately, she decided against it. Yelena was finally beginning to detach from the painful memories of the parents who abandoned them. Rekindling those hopes seemed cruel, so she would keep her mouth shut. 

Lost in her thoughts, Natasha veered off the main street and turned into an empty parking garage. The echo of her footsteps bounced off the concrete as she delved deeper, her instincts sharp. 

Stopping abruptly, she spun around and called out, "So, will you tell me why you're really here now that we’re alone?"

From behind a nearby pillar, Melina emerged, her smile slight, almost approving. Natasha’s sharp instincts had not dulled; she had expected her mother to follow. 

After all, she had deliberately led Melina to this secluded spot to press for answers without interruptions.

"Impressive, Natasha," Melina replied, stepping into the dim light. Her voice carried a mixture of admiration and caution. "You know, even the most experienced Black Widow’s have a hard time spotting me…”

"Well, I didn’t graduate top of my class for nothing," Natasha's voice was low, a mix of accusation and weariness. "Now, tell me the truth. Why are you here?"

Melina's smile thinned, her demeanor calm but her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. "I'm here because you haven't returned to the Red Room, Natasha. They sent me to bring you back."

Natasha's eyes narrowed, reading between the lines of that statement. "And if I've abandoned the Red Room?" she challenged, her voice carrying a sharp edge.

Melina’s expression tightened momentarily before she managed a small, resigned smile. "You know what would happen then."

A humorless laugh escaped Natasha. "You’d kill me, huh? How very motherly of you."

Melina chuckled, the sound hollow. "It's the life we live, my dear. It's never been about what we want."

Though her words were light, there was a hidden conflict deep within Melina’s eyes. Despite her facade, the idea of harming Natasha was a line Melina dreaded to cross.

"What happens now?" Natasha asked, her hand inching towards the gun at her waistband.

As if mirroring her movements, Melina's own hand drifted to her side, her voice steady. "Now, you come home peacefully, or we fight, and I drag you back kicking and screaming. Please, don't make this harder than it has to be."

Natasha scoffed at the mention of 'home'. "The Red Room isn’t a home, and it’s certainly not mine..."

Melina acknowledged her daughter’s point with a nod, and just as Natasha's fingers grazed the handle of her gun, she spoke again, her voice softer, more desperate. "That may be, but home is where your family is, or so I’m told. And your sister is still in the Red Room Academy. You don’t want to abandon her, do you? Who knows what Dreykov will do to her if you don’t return? He can be a very spiteful and petty man..."

The mention of Yelena seemed to strike a chord, igniting a fierce protectiveness in Natasha. “!” She didn't hesitate, swiftly drawing her gun with a definitive click. 

At the same moment, Melina, recognizing the shift in Natasha’s stance, drew her own weapon, mirroring her daughter's readiness. The parking garage, dim and echoing with their movements, became the arena for a tense standoff, each woman aiming squarely at the other.

"Don't," Natasha's voice was steel, her aim unwavering. "Don't you dare speak her name. You haven't earned that right." Her eyes blazed with a mix of fury and pain. "You weren't there when Yelena cried herself to sleep for months, calling out for you. You weren’t there when she came home covered in blood, with a dead look in her eyes because the Red Room forced her and her class to commit their first murder. You weren’t there when we needed you most..."

Melina's calm facade wavered, the weight of Natasha's words chipping at her composure. Yet, she maintained her stance, her gun still aimed at Natasha, her voice steady. "I know I wasn't there. But Natasha, you need to think about her future, about your future."

Natasha's breath hitched, her finger tense on the trigger. Every fiber in her being screamed to reject Melina's manipulation, yet the undeniable truth of Yelena’s peril held her in place. It was a brutal tug-of-war between her heart's desire to protect her sister and her soul's urge to put a bullet in her dead beat mother’s forehead.

Melina, observing the conflict playing out in Natasha’s eyes, pressed on. "Come back with me. Not for the Red Room, not for me, but for Yelena. Ensure she has a chance."

The standoff lingered, a palpable tension thick in the air. Finally, Natasha's arm lowered slightly, her resolve crumbling under the burden of Yelena's safety. With a heavy sigh, her gun clicked as she safetied it and holstered the weapon. "I'll come back," she conceded, her voice barely a whisper, laden with defeat but also with a fierce determination to protect her sister at all costs.

Melina lowered her gun as well, a complex look of relief and sorrow passing over her features. "Thank you, Natasha," she said, her voice softening for the first time. "I promise, this is for the best."

As the tension faded, Natasha’s thoughts drifted to Peter Quill—the man she had only recently met but to whom she felt an unexplainable connection. Deep down, she felt a pang of regret for not having the chance to say more, to explain, or even to say goodbye. 

She knew that if she sought him out now, if she allowed herself just one more conversation, it would only make leaving that much harder. And Peter, with his infuriating charm and stubborn kindness, would not let her go easily. 

‘I'm sorry, Peter,’ she whispered internally, her heart heavy with a mixture of affection and sorrow. ‘I wish I could stay longer, or at least say goodbye.’ But the harsh realities of her world allowed no room for such sentiments. She knew that to protect her sister, she must harden her heart and follow the path laid out before her.

And as Natasha prepared to leave, a sudden voice cut through the silence, sharp and piercing. "You promise what's for the best?" The intrusion jolted both Melina and Natasha, snapping their heads toward the entrance as they instinctively pulled their guns once again.

Soon enough, two figures at the entrance moved into the dim light, becoming clearer with each step. Natasha's eyes widened in shock and recognition as she saw Peter and Peggy walking towards them, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. 

“Uh… P-Peter…” Natasha muttered as she quickly lowered her gun. 

“I believe I told you to not to run off, Natasha…” Smiling, Peter asked, “So, what’s going on here?”

A/N: 2023 words :) 

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