Not What I Had Planned - Mama Nat

                                    

                                          
Warnings: none that I can think of?
Buckle up, this one is long. Also, I'm sorry for all the time jumps in this one.
Age: 17

For as long as I could remember, I had been an extremely artistic and creative kid. I was always drawing or scribbling on paper, making up stories and worlds in my head. In school, I had never taken a liking to math and science, finding more interest in english and art. Drawing and art had turned into hobbies, a comfort, and my future career. Since I was in middle school, I knew I wanted to be an artist of some kind when I grew up. I later developed that plan by choosing to go into animation. At least...it was the plan. But as luck would have it, life never goes according to plan. 
It seemed to start off as a simple hand cramp. That's what I thought it was at least: just my hand cramping after drawing for too long without any breaks. It was a bit bizarre. I never got cramps from drawing. I just dismissed the irregularity and took the obvious hint my body was giving me, deciding to go take a break. 
Leaving my art project behind at my desk, I left my bedroom and went downstairs to the living room. Most of the Avengers were out on missions, scattered across the world, saving people. It was just my mom, Wanda, and Bruce who were at the compound right now. All three of them were spread throughout the living room, doing their own thing. Bruce was sitting in an armchair, going over some paperwork. Wanda was curled up on the couch and reading a book. My mom, Natasha, was sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. She was typing on her laptop, most likely doing a mission report or something like it. She looked up when I came into the large room, giving me a warm smile, which I returned. 
I grabbed a quick snack, swiping some of Thor's pop tarts, and plopped down in the stool next to her. 
"How's it going?" mom asked me, glancing at me briefly before returning to her computer screen. 
"It's going okay. I was working on my art project but my hand was hurting so I decided to take a break." I replied, taking a bite of the pop tarts. 
"Are you alright?" she asked me, slightly concerned. 
"Yeah, I'm totally fine. It was just my hand cramping from working too long." I reassured her. It honestly wasn't a big deal. It was just a cramp. 
"Okay well, just try to take breaks." she nodded, her eyes lingering on me before going back to her work. 

One Month Later 

I set down my pencil and stretched my arm, a sore pain growing in my wrist. I sighed and tried to ignore it. The art project I was working on was due tomorrow morning. It was just a still life of an object, drawn with different kinds of graphite. It was a simple assignment, but I still took it seriously. Art was my favorite subject in school, so I made it a rule to always put my best work forward for every project.
I picked up my pencil once again and continued working. With each stroke, the muscles in my hand and wrist grew tighter, to the point where it hurt too badly to continue drawing. After about twenty minutes, I set down my pencil once again, this time more frustrated. I didn't exactly want to take a break, but if I wanted to finish the assignment without causing myself any more pain, a break was mandatory. 
I sighed and got up. Deciding what to do, I eventually wandered downstairs to the living room and attached kitchen, then began rummaging through cabinets. 
"What are you lookin' for?" I heard my mom's voice ask from behind me. 
"The Advil." I replied shortly, eventually finding the blue and white bottle.