Bella MacLeod's Twilight Fanfiction

The Witch and the Widows

By BetterInTexas

Outtake 03:

This takes place between the fight Yelena and Nastasha had and the trip to Wakanda and gives some insight in Rowan’s reasoning for asking Nat and Steve to leave while in Wakanda. Like the other outtakes it is a scene I wanted to show but couldn’t find a way into the story without it detracting from the already long list of main characters. It is very dark so the usual trigger warnings associated with this story apply.

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Rowan sat by her window sketching the beautiful mountains that surrounded the Mansion. It was a talent she had discovered when she had been born. Steve Rogers was often seen drawing scenes of the mansion, the widows who did not mind, multiple pictures of Natasha Romanoff and the wilderness outside. She had found it fascinating and decided to give it a shot herself.

To her surprise she was good. She wasn’t sure how good she was since she never showed her work to anyone. This was her escape. When Rowan was drawing, she was in the moment. She wasn’t remembering the past atrocities she had been forced to commit. She wasn’t thinking of how training went and if her skills were sharp enough to be a boon to the others rather than a hindrance.

Rowan did not think about the problems in the house while she was drawing. The others often drank when depressed at night. Most of them woke up screaming at some point and even those who did not scream woke multiple times a night.

Rowan did. She was not a screamer. She woke up and bit her fist out of habit. She usually had bite marks on her fingers she tried to hide from the others.

Drawing was her escape from all her worries, her fears and her memories. The past was the past she told herself. It didn’t matter who or what she was. She was a Red Widow now. Perhaps she wasn’t technically a ‘good guy’ or a hero but she believed in what she was doing and she did it by her own choice. When she killed, she felt right in doing so. It was her decision. When she tortured someone, it was because they deserved it. She unleashed the hate in her heart that she never showed to the others.

She sighed and threw the pad away. Not even drawing was an escape today. Her mind was on the same thing many widows were thinking about.

Anya and Dima Belova.

Yelena had found them and they all agreed they should live in the Mansion. They were great people and loved Yelena, despite or perhaps more because of the years apart. They never gave up looking for her. The Widows had voted unanimously that they should live in the Mansion. Rowan did not regret her agreement.

But they were walking reminders of what the others could find out. Did they have parents or even one parent who was still looking for them?

Stannic had nearly killed herself when she found out the truth. Out of all of them, Stannic and Staci were the most emotionally unstable though they were polar opposite in how that instability presented itself. When she wasn’t on a mission, Staci was a kitten who acted like a five year old at times, whereas Stannic was a wildcat, always looking for a fight.

So as much encouragement as Yelena’s situation gave the widows, Stannic’s truth was a warning to the others. Be careful what you wish for. You can have the truth but you may not like it. It may destroy you.

She had thought of talking to Wanda about it but didn’t. She knew Wanda would be supportive but Wanda wasn’t doing well. She put on a brave face. She was truly happy for Yelena. She always wanted what was best for them but she had a special bond with Yelena.

Wanda was in a very dark place. Her drinking had increased, she barely did anything beside study magic, and Rowan could see the hidden hurt when she saw the Belovas. It was a reminder of her parents and brother. A reminder that they weren’t coming back. Her parents and brother were in the ground, not searching for her.

The presence of Natasha Romanoff also had everyone on edge. She was at war with the team leaders, or perhaps the team leaders were at war with her. Since her, Rogers and Barnes had moved in, there had been disharmony. There had never been disharmony in the Mansion. Since she was rescued she was welcomed into an established family. They all had their quirks. They fought, physically and verbally, but at the end of the day, they were one. Even Agatha belonged as if she had always been one of them despite her short time there. She understood not to rock the boat so to speak and blended in, advised without judgement, and knew how to have fun. Now there were new elements and Rowan did not like it. The Avengers were causing trouble. They destroyed their own team and were causing trouble in her family. Yelena and Nat had supposedly made up since the violent fight that had erupted with Yelena but the scars remained in the household.

Wanda did her best to keep the peace but she was wore down and stayed in her room drinking, while telling others she had not been.

Eleanor and Kate had moved in for the summer. Again, Yelena was happy. Most of them didn’t mind. They appreciated Eleanor but she was also silently judging them. They could all feel it.

Finding out Stannic’s true age had rocked them as well. Rowan wondered how old she truly was. She wondered when her birthday was. She wanted to know who her parents were even though it terrified her.

Rowan waited until the sun set. After dinner, most of the widows went to their rooms to watch television or had slumber parties or watched movies in the large living room. She often joined in movie nights but wasn’t a fan of Game of Thrones which was the current obsession among her sisters.

Only Mika and Maria were below. Rather than diligently watching the monitors that showed hot spots and news reports from the world, they were playing Mario Tennis Aces on the giant screen.

Maria heard her enter when the elevator opened but didn’t pause the game until Rowan was directly behind her.

Maria took one look at her face and understood.

“Are you sure?”

Rowan nodded.

Maria stood and moved towards the rows of computers then pulled a laptop out and place it on an empty spot at the end of the desk. She turned it on and after clicking a few keys stood back.

“Just hit enter.” Maria told her.

Rowan approached the screen and had a seat. Her finger hovered over the button.

“I would like to be alone.” she told the other two.

Maria shook her head. “I left Stannic alone and she had a breakdown and nearly killed herself. Not happening.”

“I’m not Stannic.”

Maria crossed her arms. “Are you armed?”

Rowan shook her head.

“We will stand by the armory on the other side of the bunker. If you start to cry we are coming to you. Are you sure you don’t want Yelena or Wanda here?”

Rowan shook her head immediately. “I would prefer to be alone. I would also prefer if no one knows about this.”

Maria nodded and put an arm around Mika dragging the reluctant girl away.

Rowan took a breath and pressed the button.

Black Widow 2587, code named Rowan. Surname, McTaggart. Mother Siobhan McTaggart Father Bruno McTaggart.

Mother was beaten by husband and left for dead. She gave birth in hospital, emergency C section but was diagnosed with incurable brain damage. She is still alive at St. Francis Long Term care facility. Rowan’s father was convicted and released two years later, due to attempted murder charges pled down to assault. She was taken from social services at six months old by recruiter based on DNA makeup conducted by Red Room doctor in orphanage. Father will not search for her.

No known defects. Predicted to be 1.68 meters tall with a weight of 52.6 kilograms.

Started on chemical subjugation age ten years and three months. Kills at time of subjugation- 15. Kills to date 16 years and two months- 42. Specializes in infiltration, seduction and assassination. Has responded well to chemical subjugation. A natural killer, psychologically conditioned by the Nursery before chemical subjugation. Chances of rebellion or defection .009%.

What followed were notes from her trainers and field reports from her handlers. They talked about her innocent beauty, her red hair and green eyes that made her an attractive lure, how well she responded to her handlers’ orders in all situations, violent or otherwise and her skill levels that made her such an effective Black Widow. Included were the Iron Maiden’s quarterly reviews of her blood tests and mental evaluations.

None of that mattered to Rowan. One thought hit her and wouldn’t leave.

Alive.

Her parents were alive. Her mother suffered incurable brain damage and her father had given it to her. He was out in the world while she withered away in some facility for the past sixteen years.

Her mother never had a chance to love her and her father was the reason for that.

Her path was obvious.

The Red Widows were all about retribution. They didn’t just save widows. They punished those who had abused them.

Rowan was a Red Widow.

She owed her father retribution.

Rowan walked out of the bunker without saying a word to Maria or Mika. They followed her upstairs quietly. Rowan assured them she was fine when she reached her room but they had already called Wanda.

Wanda was waiting for her in her room.

When the door closed, Rowan broke down and ran into Wanda’s arms.

Wanda didn’t tell her it would be all right. She didn’t say a word. She just held her. It was something Wanda was good at. She didn’t fill silences with unneeded noise.

They spent the night together. No conversations were had. Wanda lay down with her and despite the turmoil in her mind she rested. Rowan woke up a few times but the warmth Wanda emitted while she slept lulled her back to sleep. She had often wondered if Wanda knew how warm and comforting she was to sleep near.

It was not only the warmth. She and all the widows knew they could let down their guard slightly at night when close to her because no one would dare attack the Scarlet Witch and she wouldn’t let anything happen to the widows.

The next morning Rowan thanked her but asked for time alone.

She did not go down to train or for breakfast or lunch. She searched the internet, found photos of her mother that were available. Mostly the photos were graduation or yearbook photos from her high school. There was also a photo of her in the newspaper while her father’s trial was ongoing.

Rowan looked like her. They could have been twins.

Her father was a large man, taller and thicker than Steve Rogers. He had brownish copper hair, as opposed to her mothers fiery hair. Rowan seemed to fall into the middle. Both were pale with freckles, another trait she received.

She could find no address for him. She did find friends who testified on his behalf as to his supposedly good character. She searched those and found one man owned a bar near her parents’ old neighborhood. Had Bruno gone into hiding after his release? Why? He was free. Of course a man like him could go into hiding for more than a few reasons.

One thing was certain. Rowan would receive no answers here. She had to go to Ireland.

She spoke to Yelena and Wanda privately. She did not want them to come. Wanda had the girls to comfort at night and Yelena had her parents. There was still that damn tension Romanoff had caused and without Yelena there, it could blow up once again. Wanda shouldn’t be forced in the middle as Stannic had done to her while she was recovering from a seizure.

She agreed on Dani piloting her and Sonia coming along as back up. Not that back up would be needed but widows never traveled alone. It was a comforting thought, so Rowan did not mind. It felt good to have family that looked out for each other.

Dani flew in at night and Rowan and Sonia mounted their motorcycles.

“You guys ready?”

“Dracarys!” Sonia shouted.

The back opened up and Reaper 6 blew fire in the form of two Red Widows launching on motorcycles and landing on an isolated highway twenty miles from Dublin. They never broke speed, making the trip in ten minutes.

Once they were in the large city, Rowan drove to a hotel. Her and Sonia rented a room and dropped their backpacks full of weapons and cash. They left the widow suits and guns behind, staying in blue jeans and slightly large, long sleeve shirts that effectively hid their widow bracelets and the knives sheathed to their backs. They also put on light jackets with hoods. A taxi took them ten blocks from the hospital and they walked the remainder of the way.

The first stop was the St. Francis Long Term care facility.

The place only had one guard at the door with a sign in sheet. He didn’t carry a weapon and their was no metal detector. He barely paid them any mind, just shoving the sign in book to them while he continued to read his paper. Sonia stayed in the lobby as a nurse came to escort Rowan to her mother.

Rowan stood outside the door for a few moments, thanking the nurse and waiting until she left before entering.

Her hand stayed on the door handle for close to a minute before finally turning.

When she walked inside, the woman she saw was not the vibrant woman she had found pictures of.

Siobhan was older of course. She looked much older than her thirty seven years. Her once vibrant hair was mostly grey and lifeless. Her eyes were closed and a ventilator was breathing for her. Multiple wires were attached to her very thin body.

She touched the woman’s hand and jerked back at the coolness and papery feel of her skin. Steadying herself, she touched the hand again and held it tight, brushing her hood back.

“Hello. I know you can’t hear me right now. Maybe you can. I’m Rowan. I’m your daughter. I’m back. I made my way back to you.”

In a fairytale this was the part where her mother would wake and throw her arms around her daughter. Rowan’s life was no fairytale though.

Someone knocked on the door. She told them to come in, expecting it to be Sonia.

Instead it was a doctor.

“Hello.”

“Hello? Are you my mother’s doctor?” she asked, not bothering with the façade of her fake Identity.

The man’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t aware she had a daughter. She has been here fifteen years and has never had one visitor.”

Rowan sighed. “I was taken from her after she was attacked. I just found out about her. I would like this to remain between the two of us, Doctor.”

The man nodded. He was a kindly old man nearing retirement. He wasn’t much taller than Rowan. “You look so much like her… so much like she did. She came here a few months after I started. What happened was a tragedy.”

“I knew she had brain damage but wasn’t aware she needed help breathing. How often does she wake and how lucid is she when she does?” Rowan asked.

The doctor shook his head. “Has no one told you about her?”

Rowan shook her head. “I only know she has brain damage.”

The man nodded. “Forgive me for being blunt. There is no other way to deliver this news. She is brain dead. She has been since she arrived. Only the machines keep her alive.”

Rowan was taken back. Her mother had been in a coma for sixteen years from which she would never wake. It sounded barbaric.

“Why has she been allowed to live like this if she has no hope?!”

The doctor sadly shook his head. “She had no family. Her husband had no rights after he was arrested for trying to kill her. He never returned regardless. Legally she cannot be taken off life support without a family’s consent. I… I would guess if you don’t want anyone to know your relation there is no legal claim you have to her?”

Rowan closed her eyes but the tears still escaped.

“She has no hope?”

The doctor shook his head. “I am sorry. There have been no signs of life in her or brain activity since she arrived sixteen years ago. She is fed by a tube and kept alive by the ventilator. Her heart won’t give up. You obviously came here expecting to find her in a semi lucid state. She has no hope but we can do legally and ethically do nothing.”

Rowan nodded. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a roll of cash, then handed it to the doctor.

“Do you know if her parents were buried in Dublin?” Rowan asked.

“I can find out.”

“Then I am sure you know what to do. Ensure she is buried next to them. If not find her a nice spot and a nice coffin. I will be there to make sure it happens. Buy a spot next to her if possible for myself. This is thirty thousand Euros. If you need more I will provide it at her funeral You never spoke to me. You never saw my face directly. I never said I was any relation to her. Do you understand?”

He nodded. “No questions will be asked. Most of the staff will be relieved. Her death will be listed as natural causes. If it means anything, you are doing the right thing. By those bracelets on your wrists I can guess you have not had the easiest life. I am sure you were hoping for another outcome.”

“By these bracelets on my wrists, I am sure you can guess I am not one to be trifled with. Bury her as soon as possible. I will be keeping tabs. Do you know where her husband is?”

The doctor shook his head. “I know nothing of the man other than he put her here.”

Rowan nodded. “That is okay. I will find him.”

The doctor nodded and walked out, leaving the two alone.

“Our family is cursed.” she said to her mother but more to herself. “I inherited your looks but I inherited his penchant for violence. If he is still alive I will find him and ensure he never does this to another person again. I swear this to you, mother.”

Rowan kissed her forehead. “I love you. I am going to set you free. One day when I am dead, I will leave instructions to bury me beside you. I am not sure if there is a heaven if I will be allowed in but our bodies will lay next to each other. We can be together then.”

Rowan gently pulled the tube from her mother’s mouth. She turned off the machines and stood by her side holding her hands while the Siobhan McTaggart took her last breaths.

When she was certain she was dead, Rowan lifted her hood back up and walked out without another word.

She ducked her head down at the nurses station but none paid her any mind. The alarms were sounding and the nurses were heading in that direction but they were not running. Perhaps the doctor was right and they would be relieved.

When she reached the lobby, Sonia caught her eyes and knew. She took her hand and they left quickly, walking in a different direction than they came and taking a cab twenty blocks away, paying with cash and keeping their heads down.

That night they drove to Maddy’s pub. They wore short black dresses, teenage girls likely too young to be in a bar but not too young that the patrons would not take advantage of them.

They asked at the bar for the owner, Pete McIntosh. The bartender said he was in the back and would ask for him. Rowan told him not to bother. She handed him thirty Euros and asked for a beer.

The two made their way to the back and Rowan kicked the door in. A short, stocky, bald headed man looked up in shock. He reached for a shot gun propped in the corner. Sonia kicked his wrist into the wall, shattering it. Rowan pulled him upright on his chair and slammed the bottle against his head, breaking it. She took the jagged edge and stabbed it into his good hand as it lay on the desk.

“What a piece of crap.” Sonia muttered, looking at his shotgun in her hands. She then chambered a round and placed the barrel in his ear.

“Hello Pete. My name is Rowan McTaggart. I believe you once knew my parents. You testified at my father’s trial about what a great guy he was after he beat my mother to near death.”

Pete’s eyes focused on the girl. The pain made him more alert and he recognized her resemblance to her mother immediately.

“You? We heard you were taken from the orphanage! We thought you were dead!”

Rowan turned the sharp edged bottle, cutting more of his hand as he squealed.

“The little girl was dead. I’m what is left. I need to have a word with my father. He seems to have gone off the grid. Any idea where I might find him?”

He looked at her for a few long seconds and then his eyes darted to the girl who was pressing a shotgun into his ear. The bottle had torn his scalp when it broke over his head and blood was leaking into his eyes.

“Who… what are you?” he asked, trying to comprehend that in seconds he had been greatly injured by two small girls and may well be killed.

“I told you, I am Rowan McTaggart and I am looking for my father. Where is he? Saying I don’t know is an instant slug in your head. Telling me a lie means you lose some very important parts of your body. Think carefully about your answer.”

Pete panicked. He could tell they were serious. He had seen that look in their eyes in the stares of other men. Men who were used to causing death. These cute little girls were killers.

“If I tell you…”

“Shoot him.” Rowan said.

“No! I’m sorry! Look he got in deep with some gamblers and changed his name, moved off the grid. He moved out of the city. Lives in an old cabin by a small lake outside of Wicklow. I can give you his address.”

Rowan nodded.

“I’m gonna need my hand. You think you could take the bottle out of it?”

She twisted one more time then lifted the bottle. He wrote out an address on a sheet of paper covered in blood by the time he was done.

“Have you heard of the Red Widows?”

His eyes widened and he nodded.

“I’m going to let you live because it would cause too much attention to kill you. You don’t say a word about this and you do not contact him. You fell down hard, you owed money to the mob, I don’t care what excuse you give but we were never here. You have a business and a life. You are easy to find. If I find out you said something to your friends or warned Bruno, I will come back for you. We will come back for you. Have you heard what we do to people?”

He nodded his head quickly.

“Good. Then you get to live tonight.”

Sonia split the shotgun apart and threw it in two pieces on the ground. “Clean your gun every now and then. No gun deserves to be treated like this one has been. There are cobwebs in the barrel, asshole.”

The next day, Bruno sat down in his barely held together cabin to have a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. He didn’t have much. He worked for cash when he could and got lowballed. Everyone knew if you worked for cash you were hiding from someone and desperate.

“Hello Bruno.”

The man stood up and backed away from the surprising voice, sliding his table back and spilling his coffee.

No one knew where he lived and no one knew his real name.

He relaxed only slightly when he saw it was only a girl.

Then he truly took her in.

She looked like his wife.

She wore a tight black suit with some sort of shock bracelets. He had seen them on television before, some show about the Black Widow red head. She also had batons on her back like that Avenger lass.

She was small, but everything about her set him on edge. This wasn’t a girl playing dress up.

There were more of them. He remembered some guys in the local bar talking about them. They called themselves something else but supposedly they were young, psycho bitches who left their victims in pieces. He hadn’t believed it.

Now he was facing one of them who looked like his ex, the brain dead woman who had cost him two years of his life and it could have been more.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I am your daughter, Rowan. I’m not sure who named me. Perhaps a friend of hers knew what she was going to name me and told the hospital. She never got to see my birth certificate. Do you remember her, Bruno? Do you remember Siobhan?”

Bruno sighed. “Look kid, you don’t come into my house and start shit. Get out before I throw your scrawny ass out. You may dress like one of those American bimbo heroes but…”

It happened in a blink but it also seemed to happen in slow motion. He saw her plant her foot and her other foot rose in a kick. The sole of her foot planted itself under his jaw and sent him flying back onto the table then falling through it.

The next hours involved more pain than he had ever felt. Not even his old bookie’s enforcers had put him through this much. He couldn’t stand, couldn’t breathe. He felt his bones breaking. One arm had been snapped in half. He tried to run but his legs wouldn’t work.

She pulled out his eye. The little girl pulled his eye out with her two fingers. He could still make her out but she was mostly a blur. She didn’t growl or scream. She was cold and silent. She systematically took him apart.

Some part of his mind realized he was outside when the electric shocks began. They seemed to last forever. They made him want to run but again his legs wouldn’t work. The bones were free and feeling air. His one good eye was swelling. His jaw was opened and then shattered by a metal stick then more shocks began.

He begged and she cut out his tongue.

Finally he was face down in water. He hoped this was the end. He couldn’t breathe and wanted to swallow the water and end his misery.

But she wouldn’t let him. She smashed his face in the water and pulled him up again. Over and over.

He was dragged back to the gravel surrounding his house.

He barely opened his eye and saw she was sitting on the porch drinking a glass of water. She was covered in sweat. The sun was high and he knew she had shown up in the morning. How long had she been torturing him? It felt like forever but must have been four hours or so if it was noon.

She stood up and smiled down on him, then stretched her arms over her head and cracked her knuckles.

“I think I’m ready for round two. How about you, Dad?”

By four o clock, Rowan had beaten him so badly, either he had bled out from internal bleeding, or the shocks had weakened his heart and the pain made it stop. Just before he died she took his remaining eye.

Sonia had been watching her all afternoon, not becoming involved, and making sure no surprise visitors did either. She helped Rowan pull the carcass back into the house and then watched as Rowan set it ablaze. Neither moved until the shabby cabin was burned to the ground and only Bruno McTaggart’s shattered skeleton remained.

They stayed a bit longer, watching the fire in the darkness, the burning ashes floating into the sky like fairy lights. Then they took their bikes and left it all behind.

The next morning, Rowan stood by her mother’s gravesite. She had found a priest to conduct a small service, only some prayers. The doctor had done well. Her mother would be buried next to her grandparents. The funeral director confirmed the spot next to her mother was reserved for her. He was there and tried to return the money that remained. She refused and donated it to the facility.

Before the ceremony started, six SUVs pulled up to the cemetery. Rowan looked at Sonia who shrugged.

“We are family.” Sonia told her. “Of course they were going to be here.”

The Red Widows exited the SUVs. They had taken time from their training and mission planning to be here. They were all wearing black dresses or pantsuits and all wore hooded cloaks, similar to what Rowan and Sonia had bought. She wondered if Agatha had conjured a wardrobe for them.

“Thank you.” Rowan told Sonia.

The Widows took a turn hugging her tightly then stood around the gravesite as the priest spoke to the strange collection of women who had come to see this poor soul buried. He spoke what little he knew about her and spoke of heaven and rewards waiting, how those who suffered in this world would inherit paradise. Rowan didn’t know if it was true. She wasn’t sure she believed in anything except the women by her side.

She hoped it was true. If anyone deserved peace and paradise it was a Siobhan McTaggart who had her child and life stolen from her before she ever had a chance to love or live.

“Go with God.” Rowan whispered then took a fist full of dirt and tossed it on the grave after the coffin was lowered.

Her file had been opened and closed. It was time to go home.