Kobikd - Blog Posts

imagine that you're given two options, both equally bad but one just a little less painful. live in hell and never see your children again, or live in hell and get to raise your children. a literal rock and a hard place, but for natasha, it was a no-brainer that she was going to pick the option that resulted in keeping the twins and watching them grow up. even if that meant having to live a lie. having to answer to the people she despised most of all. there were times when she tried to forget the chaos that they were living in, times when she was able to pretend that they were just the quintessential suburban families. spoilers, this wasn't one of those times.

there's a thoughtful sigh as natasha finds her way onto the edge of the bed, hands carefully placed into her lap as she considers the best answer. james was so much better at this part of parenting then she was. he'd had parents to base his parenting off... she'd had the red room. but she knows offering to have someone to take them out isn't an appropriate first reaction.

"these children have a way of being mean that is beyond anything we could know." it's a genuine answer despite knowing the world that they are living. "the situation we were put in does not make you any less real."

do better natasha.

"you are the farthest thing from fake. what brought this on?"

A   normal   life   was   never   going   to   be   easy   to   adjust   to.    She   knew   that   much   when   they   had   been   PLACED   in   the   town   for   security.    It   wasn't   even   the   matter   of   their   parents   leaving   from   time   to   time   when   missions   called   for   it.    It   was   the   fact   that   they   still   felt   like   the   odd   one   out   now   that   they   were   out.    Friends   were   hard   to   come   by   even   now   ,   which   had   ultimately   been   was   brought   the   young   girl   home   from   school   with   an   INTENSE   FOCUS   set   on   taking   her   to   the   confines   of   her   room.

The   knock   of   the   door   doesn't   STARTLE   her   ,   but   instead   pulls   her   from   the   mean   comment   that   they   had   seen   scribbled   on   their   locker.    The   same   one   that   had   stuck   in   their   memory   all   day   long.    Jaw   setting   tightly   before   granting   access   to   whoever   was   on   the   other   side   of   the   door.    Seeing   that   it   was   understandably   her   mother   ,   she   sighed   when   asked   if   she   wanted   to   talk.    At   least   this   part   seemed   100%   by   the   books   of   the   normal   American   family.    “   They   called   me   fake.   ”    She   finally   admitted   ,   hands   holding   one   of   the   teddy   bears   that   sat   posed   on   her   bed.    “   &   there   not   even   wrong.    None   of   them   have   the   slightest   clue   who   I   am.   ”