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When Natasha had approached her the night before, Melina had been confused, but warmed by the girl’s trembling voice asking her to braid her hair before the competition.
“Of course, baby girl,” she’d murmured.
And Melina did, too. She woke Nat up at the crack of dawn to get it done before they had to leave, and sat in the living room with the girl, smiling softly when she started snoring against her leg. The end product had been something she was very familiar with. It was her go-to when she was a Widow. Intricate braids pulling her hair back, and tied into a ponytail high on her head. It was severe, but beautiful. Everything she’d been taught to be. Everything she’d teach her girls to be.
Natasha grinned when she saw the finished product, and Melina couldn’t help but give her a matching one, before leaving the girl to get Yelena. But not before tiny arms wrapped around her waist with a whispered, Thank you, Mom.
The affection was new for them. Yelena was practically still a baby, almost three and clingy as ever. But Natasha wasn’t one for cuddles. She tolerated a bedtime kiss from Alexei, and a morning hug from Melina, and that was about it. The past few weeks, however, felt like a new page in their fake little scrapbook. Natasha was reaching out for hugs, accepting help when she needed it, and referring to her family as her family when she didn’t even have to. Alexei and Yelena were overjoyed that she was coming out of her shell. Melina considered it an adjustment, and recorded it thusly.
“You’re welcome, Nat,” Melina murmured, patting the girl’s back.
She turned back to the mirror, admiring herself once more before running to her room to find her competition bag.
The arena itself is large and bright, with advertisements lining the walls and nervous parents chattering amongst themselves.
Alexei finds their check-in spot easily, and lumbers over to sign them in while Melina sprays Natasha’s hair one last time, before double checking the girl’s attire. Her teammates are eager to greet her, but Melina pulls her to the side with a strong arm.
“You got everything?” she asks, switching a sleeping Yelena to her other arm, and using her free hand to tug at the hem of Nat’s team jacket. “Grips, tape-”
“I do, Mom,” the girl nods, bright blue eyes staring up at the woman.
“Water bottle?”
“Yes.”
Melina nods, unable to think of anything else to double check. She packed the bag herself. “Okay. Go on, then. Remember to focus, Natasha. And stand up straight. You’re going to get a hunch.”
The amber-haired girl pouts, but straightens her shoulders as her dad comes over, holding three tickets.
“And have fun!” Alexei booms, picking the girl up and squeezing her. “We’ll be sitting… Well, we’ll be watching you from wherever these seats are.”
They didn’t have competitions in the Red Room. Not like this, anyway. Sure, they competed all the time. For approval, food, responsibility, their lives. But this… the screaming, adoring crowd of families, affectionate coaches, and colorful costumes - yeah, they didn’t have this back home.
Natasha, as expected, does wonderfully in all of her events, but it doesn’t stop Melina from gripping onto her husband’s arm as she competes. Alexei can’t even hold back his gasps, eyes bulging out of his head as the limber girl tumbles through her floor performance.
Melina knows that she’ll place on the podium for most of her events, and the only reason she’ll miss the uneven bars is because she was told to. Can’t have bloodthirsty talent scouts sniffing around when their mission has barely even started. Even if Natasha is better than everyone in this damned arena.
Natasha spotted them before her floor routine, and sends them an excited wave now as they wait for the rest of the girls to finish. Alexei lifts his hand in recognition, and Melina opens and closes her palm silently, giving the girl a soft smile.
Yelena waves when her parents do, eyes squinting as she searches for her big sister. “Mommy, Natty is doing good?”
“She’s doing great, baby girl,” Melina murmurs, pressing a kiss to the toddler’s unruly curls. Unlike her sister, she has no interest in maintaining her hair.
An unfamiliar hand touches Melina’s forearm, and she can’t help but send a fierce glare in the person’s direction, but it’s just someone’s grandmother who has eyes on Yelena.
“You have a beautiful little girl,” she sighs, breath as brittle as Melina imagines her bones to be. “Her curls are gorgeous.”
Melina looks at the toddler in Alexei’s lap, and nods, before turning back to the grandmother with a patient smile. “Thank you. We like her.”
Alexei laughs harshly at her response, and Melina scowls at him. He’s never the one pulled into these conversations. “Yes, we do.”
The woman smiles politely at them both, before pointing to the floor. “You have one out there, too?”
“Uh, yeah. She’s beside the beam right now.”
“With the towel?”
Melina’s eyes pass over the tiny brunette standing next to Nat, and she shakes her head. “No, the redhead.”
“Oh, she’s a star. I have half a mind to tell my daughter that my granddaughter barely has a chance next to her. You must be a proud mommy.”
And Melina… She’s not a mommy. That label doesn’t feel right on her. Mainly because she knows that one day, this is going to end, and she will give these girls back to people who don’t deserve them. Who don’t deserve their loyalty, or their hearts. And mommies don’t do that. But she can pretend. For a moment, she can pretend.
And who knows, maybe someday she’ll be who they’ll need.
“Proudest mommy in the world.”