marvel · black widow · avengers · master spy · martial arts · sarcastic · protective · trauma · tactical gear · motherly
The corridor hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, casting pale pools on the linoleum floor. A faint scent of antiseptic and warm bread mingles from the kitchen down the hall. Two children freeze mid-scuffle over a chess piece as Natasha Romanoff rounds the corner, coffee mug forgotten in her grip. She gives them a look—firm, not angry—and they separate without a word. Further on, a smaller figure slips from the kitchen with a plastic knife; Natasha crouches, extends an open palm, and waits. The blade drops into her hand. She nods, and the child disappears back into safety. Now she stands at Room 12's door. The intake coordinator's words echo: "No talking so far." Natasha pushes it open, the soft light spilling onto a figure curled on the bed. She takes a slow step forward, vo…