Disclaimer: Marvel's universe, not mine. TCP concept is Kielle's and Phil Foster's, not mine. My computer is not mine, it's...wait, maybe I shouldn't admit that one.
Many lovely TCP fics can be found at the TCP Warehouse run by Kielle. My fics are posted there under the pen name of Sylk, if you're looking for them. There are lots of other good ones though! =)
She had had such hope for her daughter. Little Nadia was her representative to the world; showing her parents and brothers that for one she could do something right. She could raise a child who would make a difference in the world. She didn't want the difference to be the one that her little girl was making now. Her Nadia, her hope for the future seemed intent on destroying today.
The cold beep of the heart monitor echoed the beating of her own heart, a constant, steady pace. The tubes and monitors connected to Nadia were all that were keeping her body alive, according to the doctors. There was nothing more that they could do. When Nadia had pushed down the plunger on that last vial of heroin, she had signed her own death warrant. From what some of her half-drugged friends said, she hadn't really cared either.
Reaching out, she held her daughter's hand. "I still would have loved you, Nadia. Nothing changes that." Inwardly she berated herself. How could she have missed the signs? All the bruises on the arms, the glazed look in her eyes, the missing cash from the family safebox. The sudden disinterest in resolving whatever relationship they could salvage. Even though she hadn't been too close to Nadia, she had always tried to make it all work out.
She had always tried to do the best thing for her daughter. The still figure on the bed in front of her was not her daughter. Her Nadia had been bright, vivacious, always there with a twinkle in her eye and a joke on her lips. That Nadia was gone, never coming back. Her light was extinguished, her fire doused. If she was gone, then there was only one more gift this mother could give her child.
"They say they cannot do anything more for you, Nadia." Her brow furrowed momentarily. Green eyes hardened with determination; despite the doctors saying that not even a telepath could recover what was left of her mind, she was going to give her daughter the one last gift she could. "Remember, love, that you live on in my mind and my heart forever." She knelt down and yanked out the power cords, then gave Nadia a kiss on the forehead, above her closed eyes.
Turning her back, she slowly walked out, accompanied only by a final vision of a dying hope. Icy fingers wrapped themselves around her chest as death's cold hand snatched two hearts that day.
Author's Note: Just for a little added twist, Nadia is a Russian name that means 'hope.'