The name is Valentina.
Just Valentina, no last name.
No friends, no family.
Alone for as long as I can remember.
I have lived in the Red Room all my life. Fighting is all I have ever known. It used to be that I could not harm others without hesitation. Then slowly, I stopped blinking.
And when they brought in a man with a bag over his head and handed me a gun, I didn't even wince.
Madame G., the woman who runs the Red Room, often tells me how much I resemble my mother. My mother, who left me here so much as without a thought after I was born. If she is still out there somewhere, I wish her happy living down in hell.
My life is hell.
Why would someone leave their daughter in a place where they would lose what innocence that had, if any? These were not children, they were war machines.
They were assassins.
The fact that Madame G. knows my mother means that she was a student in the Red Room at one point as well. Or at least, she remembers my mother from the day she dumped me here.
No matter how much I say I condemn her, I cannot. Blood is blood. I hope that someday I will meet her.
For now, I shall suffer the abuse of Madame G.
It's not like it hurts that much anymore anyways.
"Steve," Natasha called. "Have you received the files from the new mission?" She plopped herself down onto the couch.
Captain America, Steve Rodgers, walked in the living room with two cups in his hand, handing one to Nat, sitting down on the armchair across from her.
"Tony has them. He is looking over them with Vision."
Natasha continued to rub at her temples. The headache forming was not pleasant. It was probably bevause she hadn't been sleeping well lately.
Every time she closed her eyes, she heard the cry.
It was her baby's cry.
Her baby that would have been sixteen years old if she hadn't died at birth. The doctor had pulled her away so fast, all she had saw was the head of red hair, all she needed to see to know that it was indeed her daughter.
"Nat, are you okay? You seem a bit tired lately."
"Just stressed, you know, with all the missions, and, uh, stuff..."
"If something is up, please tell us. We're a team, remember?"
Nat smiled. "I know." She indeed knew that this group of people she fought crime alongside of was indeed the closest thing she had to family.
Quite frankly, she wouldn't have it any other way, unless, you know, her baby was still alive.
But that was impossible.
Just an introduction, a possible idea. Should I continue? (chapters would be longer)
