Chapter 1

The air inside the cabin was thick with the aroma of freshly made waffles, the sound of candle flames flickering in the background, and the soft creak of floorboards underfoot. Maria, wearing an apron, carefully placed the last of the waffles onto the plate, her eyes flicking back and forth between the candles and the ticking clock on the wall.

Eight candles. Eight years. Her heart was in her throat.

"Everything okay, Babe?" Natasha's voice, slightly muffled by the sound of blowing air, cut through her thoughts. She turned to see her wife hanging up the last of the birthday banner, a cheerful "Happy Birthday Michelle!" in bold letters, all while trying to inflate another balloon. The sight of Natasha's focused determination was something Maria had always found endearing—and today, even with the anxiety gnawing at her, it was a small comfort.

Maria sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead, wiping away the beads of perspiration that had started to form. She couldn't help it. Every time she let herself get excited about the possibility of seeing their daughter again, her mind immediately ran through every worst-case scenario. What if someone followed them? What if someone…?

She set the plate of waffles on the table, smoothing her hand over the surface as if that could calm the storm brewing inside her. "This is a bad idea," Maria muttered, her voice laced with concern. "What if they're being followed? What if—"

Natasha, who had finally gotten a balloon inflated enough to tie it off, flashed her wife a playful look over her shoulder. "Maria, you've been saying that for the past hour," she said, her voice carrying a hint of teasing amusement. "You're starting to sound like you're about to have a panic attack. Everything is fine. We made sure to cover all the bases. We've got security in place, remember?"

Maria shot her a sharp look, but Natasha's grin only grew. Natasha knew Maria—really knew her—and while she was concerned too, the sight of her wife's nervous energy was almost endearing in a way. Natasha leaned against the wall, watching Maria as she set the table.

"I know you're worried," Natasha said, voice softening a bit. "But this is her day. We haven't seen her in months, and she's been counting down the days, Maria. We can't spoil it by letting anxiety ruin the moment."

Maria stopped what she was doing for a moment, glancing at Natasha, and the softness in her eyes was unmistakable. The two of them had made a promise that, no matter the danger, they would be there for her—especially on her birthdays.

"I know," Maria whispered, walking over to Natasha and resting into a hug. "But I just—I miss her so much. I feel like every moment I'm away from her, I'm losing her."

Natasha's face softened, and for a moment, the weight of their past, their choices, and the threat looming over them all seemed to fall away. Natasha reached up and cupped Maria's hand, squeezing it gently.

"We won't lose her," Natasha said quietly. "We've already lost too much in our lives. She is our future." She gave Maria a small, reassuring smile. "Just... take a breath, okay? We've done everything we can. Now we just wait."

Maria nodded, but she still felt the gnawing edge of fear and longing deep in her chest.

It didn't take long before they heard the sound of a car approaching—tires on gravel, the sharp purr of the engine, and the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut. The footsteps that followed were familiar, but they brought with them the familiar tightness in Maria's chest.

A voice rang out from outside, muffled by the thick walls but still clear enough to hear. "Michelle! Be careful!" Elizabeth's sharp, no-nonsense tone carried through the cabin.

Maria's heart skipped a beat. That was it.

A second later, the door swung open with a sudden burst of energy, and there, charging into the room like a whirlwind, was Michelle.

Maria didn't even have time to react before her daughter was in her arms, small hands gripping her like a lifeline.

"Mom!" Michelle shouted, squeezing her tight and pressing her cheek against Maria's. Maria closed her eyes, her chest tightening as she returned the embrace, holding her daughter as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

"Happy birthday, sweet girl," Maria murmured, pressing a flurry of kisses to Michelle's cheek and forehead. Her heart soared. Michelle was home, if only for today.

Behind them, Natasha had been the recipient of a much more typical Michelle greeting—a sarcastic "Hi, Mommy!" before Michelle took off running to Maria. Natasha just rolled her eyes, though the smile she couldn't hide betrayed her amusement.

Elizabeth, carrying a well-worn duffel bag, walked in slowly, shaking her head as she observed the scene. "See what I deal with, those ears are just decoration. I don't like this, been out in the open."

Natasha chuckled softly and helped Elizabeth with Michelle's backpack. "You're too much of a worrywart, Izzy," she said, giving the older woman a warm hug. "She's safe here. We've got it covered."

Elizabeth didn't look convinced. "Just keep her inside and away from the woods. There are too many dangers out here." She turned her gaze back to Michelle, who was now sitting cross-legged in front of the table, eagerly eyeing the gifts Maria had already placed for her.

"Are you sure this is safe, Natasha?" Elizabeth's voice had a subtle undercurrent of concern, but she tried to mask it with a smile.

Natasha just nodded, her voice firm. "We're as careful as we can be. We've got eyes on the perimeter. No one will find us here." But even as she said it, her eyes flicked to the window, her senses on alert. No matter how much she reassured everyone, Natasha never truly let her guard down.

Maria ushered Michelle over to the gifts, and the excitement was palpable. Michelle's eyes sparkled as she began tearing into the wrapping paper. The first gift was from Natasha—an old, vintage iPod player, the kind that had become a rare collector's item. Natasha's lips twitched upward at the look of awe on Michelle's face.

"I thought you'd like something that wasn't connected to anything digital," Natasha said with a smirk. "Something a little more... old-school."

Michelle's face lit up. "Mommy, you're the best!" She immediately started inspecting it, her fingers flying over the buttons, her excitement bubbling over.

Maria's gift was simpler, but no less meaningful. She handed Michelle a small velvet box, and when Michelle opened it, she gasped. Inside was a silver watch, with a black band, with delicate engraving on the back: "MHR—Love, M & M."

Maria smiled softly as Michelle turned the watch over in her hands, her tiny fingers tracing the letters.

"Mom..." Michelle whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she looked up at Maria. "I love it. I'll wear it forever."

Maria bent down, planting a soft kiss on Michelle's forehead. "I love you too, sweetheart. Forever and always."

The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of wind through the trees outside the small cabin. Maria watched her daughter with a tenderness that made her heart swell, her fingers gently brushing through Michelle's hair as she helped her get ready for bed.

Michelle was standing on a small stool at the kitchen sink, her cream-white pajamas slightly too big but still somehow perfect on her. She was focused on brushing her teeth, tiny hands holding the toothbrush with the utmost concentration, but every so often, she would glance over at Maria.

"You said Grandma Izzy taught you how to make waffles," Michelle said between brushing, her voice muffled. "Can you teach me when I'm older? I wanna be able to make waffles for you and mom."

Maria chuckled softly, resting her hand on the small of Michelle's back. "You'll be great at it, sweetheart. You already know so much, so I'm sure cooking won't be too hard for you."

Michelle gave her a quick grin. "Mom, I know how to cook already. I can make cereal all by myself."

Maria couldn't help but laugh, the sound of her daughter's innocence filling her with warmth. Michelle still had the spirit of a child—a spirit Maria would do anything to protect.

"Mom, guess what?" Michelle's voice shifted, becoming quieter, more thoughtful. "Grandma Izzy said I'm gonna be taller than you soon. Do you think I'll be taller than you by the time I'm ten?"

Maria raised an eyebrow as she carefully finished brushing Michelle's teeth. "I don't know. You're growing fast, but I think I'll always be taller than you, no matter what."

Michelle made a face. "I don't like being the shortest one. But at least I'm taller than you were when you were my age, right?"

Maria smiled, ruffling her daughter's hair. "You've definitely got the height advantage on me."

As Michelle spit out the excess toothpaste and rinsed her mouth, Maria felt a sudden wave of melancholy wash over her. She loved these little moments with Michelle—the simple things, like brushing teeth and chatting about the future. But deep down, she knew they couldn't have this forever. They couldn't live this way, no matter how much they wanted to.

Meanwhile, Natasha was outside, quietly scanning the perimeter of the cabin. Her movements were fluid and precise, the familiar edge of caution that had once been instinct now second nature.

When she returned to the cabin, she saw Maria was finishing up with Michelle. The kitchen was warm, a light glow spilling over from the living room where the makeshift bedding was already set up. Natasha stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind her, her boots brushing softly against the floor.

"Everything's clear," Natasha murmured, her voice low but steady. "I set up the blankets in the living room. Elizabeth's asleep?"

Maria nodded, pulling Michelle's hair into a loose braid as she looked up at Natasha. "She went to bed a while ago."

Natasha walked over to the makeshift bed on the floor, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. Michelle, padded over to Natasha, her feet shuffling on the wooden floor. "Mommy, can you braid my hair?" she asked, looking up with her big, trusting eyes.

Natasha smiled, her heart softening. "Of course, love."

Michelle promptly climbed onto Natasha's lap, settling there with a contented sigh. Natasha, though she had never been great at showing affection, found this simple moment of closeness with her daughter oddly calming. She reached for the brush that Maria had set down and gently began working through Michelle's hair, brushing out the tangles. The braid came together effortlessly, her hands moving instinctively, despite how much her mind was still working through every possible threat that might be waiting outside the cabin.

Michelle's voice broke through her concentration. "Why can't we live here all the time?" she asked, her tone a mix of confusion and hope. "It's safe here. Why don't we just live here forever? It's quiet... and I get to be with both of you."

The question hit Natasha like a cold wave, and for a moment, she stopped brushing Michelle's hair. Her fingers trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the ache in her chest that came with the impossibility of the question.

Maria, who had been changing into her own pajamas in the other room, overheard the question. She stepped into the living room just as Natasha answered quietly.

"It's not that simple, sweetheart," Natasha said, her voice tight. "There are people who would try to hurt us if we stayed here, or worse, hurt you. We can't take that risk."

Michelle frowned, her tiny brows furrowing as she processed Natasha's words. "But… but I just want to be with you and Mom. Is it my fault we can't live here? If I wasn't a weapon, would we get to stay?" The question came out in a whisper, almost as though she feared the answer.

Maria's heart cracked at the vulnerability in Michelle's voice. She rushed over to kneel beside her, cupping her daughter's face gently with her hands. "No, baby. It's not your fault," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't want to hear you call yourself that. But one day, I promise you, we'll be together all the time. We'll figure it out. But for now, this is the safest way we can do it."

Michelle, though still unsure, nodded slowly, her gaze shifting to the floor as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. She wiped at her eyes, not wanting to show her sadness, but it was clear she was hurt.

Natasha, unable to stop herself, gently placed her hand on Michelle's shoulder, her voice softer now. "Hey, This is all temporary. It's just for now, okay? We love you. We always will."

Michelle sniffled, but she managed a small smile, then yawned. Her body, already exhausted from the excitement of the day, relaxed into Natasha's embrace as she curled up against her.

Maria watched them, her chest full of love and sorrow, Nat kissed Michelle's forehead. "Sleep, sweet girl," she whispered. "We are here. Both of us."

As Natasha now settled together by her daughter, the soft hum of Michelle's breathing soon filled the air, a sign that sleep was claiming her.

Maria lay beside her, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple before settling into the space between Natasha and Michelle. For a moment, it was just the three of them—alive, together, despite everything.

The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft glow over the cabin's windows. Inside, Maria was laying on the couch, her arms wrapped protectively around Michelle, who slept soundly on her chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of Michelle's small body with each breath was the only sound in the room—comforting, peaceful.

But reality came crashing in when Maria heard the soft creak of the door to the cabin opening. Elizabeth, her mother, had come back inside, her footsteps quiet but purposeful. Maria didn't look up; she couldn't. She wasn't ready.

"Maria," Elizabeth's voice was soft but firm, her tone carrying an undercurrent of understanding, of shared pain. "It's time."

Maria's heart clenched at the words, her arms tightening around Michelle instinctively, as if that might somehow make the moment slow down, as if holding her daughter closer could freeze the time and keep her there forever.

Elizabeth paused, watching her daughter and granddaughter with a quiet sadness in her eyes. "We can't delay it any longer. You know we have to do this."

Maria turned her head, her eyes already brimming with unshed tears, and shook her head. "I don't want to. I can't just... let her go again."

She hugged Michelle tighter, pressing her face into the top of her daughter's head, willing herself to hold on to this moment, to pretend—just for a few more seconds—that everything could stay the same.

Elizabeth sighed softly, the weight of the situation clear in her expression. "Maria, I know how hard it is," she said quietly. "But you need to remember why we're doing this. It's for her. It's always been for her."

Maria felt a knot tighten in her throat, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Instead, she just stayed there, frozen in place, her arms unwilling to let go of the little girl she had come to love as her own. The little girl she had promised to protect, no matter the cost.

Elizabeth, sensing her daughter's emotional struggle, gave her space. With a soft sigh, she stepped away and moved to the door, glancing over her shoulder once before stepping outside to wait in the car.

Natasha walked in the doorway, her eyes filled with the same sorrow Maria felt, but also the same quiet strength. She didn't say anything right away. She didn't need to. Her presence was enough.

Maria didn't need words. She knew her wife better than anyone, and she knew Natasha was silently giving her space, allowing her to process the painful reality. Natasha's love and support were always there, even when the situation was impossible.

Natasha took a step closer, cupping Maria's face gently. "Hey," she whispered softly. "We'll get through this. We always do. It's not goodbye, it's just... a pause. We'll find Dreykov, I promise. We'll make sure Michelle is safe. And we'll be together again. Soon."

Maria closed her eyes, her breath shaky as she fought back the tears. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, Nat. Every time we have to say goodbye, it feels like it gets harder. I don't want to keep putting her through this. I just want to keep her safe... with us."

Natasha leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Maria's forehead. "We are keeping her safe," she said, her voice steady but filled with conviction. "This is the only way we can. I promise you, Maria. We will be together again. I will make sure of it."

Maria took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and nodded. The quiet hum of the cabin felt almost too loud as Maria, carefully shifting Michelle up on her chest. She didn't want to wake her daughter, knowing how much harder it would be to say goodbye if Michelle was awake. She gently lifted Michelle into her arms, her heart aching with each step.

Natasha kissed Maria's temple, her arms wrapping around her in a comforting embrace. "She'll always have this to remind her of us. We're never really gone. She'll hear us every time she plays it."

With the iPod tucked securely in Michelle's pajama pocket, Maria carefully laid her daughter into the car seat, her hands lingering on Michelle's tiny form. She pressed one last kiss to Michelle's forehead, trying to memorize every detail—the softness of her hair, the warmth of her skin, the peacefulness of her expression.

"Please, be okay, baby girl," Maria whispered, her voice barely audible. "We love you so much."

Natasha bent down beside her, placing a hand on Maria's shoulder. "She'll be okay. She's strong, Maria. Just like you."

They shared one last lingering look at their daughter before slowly closing the car door. As the engine roared to life, Maria and Natasha stood there in the quiet morning, their hearts heavy with the same sorrow.