Clara Barnes

Canon divergent, independent and selective MARY ROGERS, of the Marvel comics, oc daughter of Sharon Carter and Steve Rogers.

Mix of 616 and mcu/xmcu

"No more braids, huh? You're all real ballerinas now." Opening Clara's bag, Natasha got to work gathering Clara's hair before twisting it into a perfect ballerina bun.

Clara lets out a small sigh of relief as the doctor takes her hand, glad that he is at least able to take her to one of the wards she will recognise. Maybe the nurses there could help her if Nat wasn't there.

"Thank you." She smiles slightly. "My mama's name is Natasha. She's a nurse." The young redhead explains as they reach the elevator.

Then she quickly realises that she still hasn't told him her name. "I'm Clara," She adds softly, "like the ballet."

Kozlov. She recognised the name as Russian, which calmed her down a little, for it meant she might be able to speak her native tongue. Deciding to take the risk, Clara hesitates for a moment before answering.

"Umm, I don't know." She frowns, trying to hide just how anxious she is.

"She is either working on a ward called Paeds or ED. My friend's mama dropped me off at the main entrance and forgot to tell me which ward she is working on today. Normally she would walk me to her, but today she said she was 'busy' and left me. I was going to try Paeds first, but I got on the wrong lift."

“Mama, can you please do my hair for ballet?” @winterstruth

Natasha had been so lost in her work she hadn't heard Clara come in at first, until that sweet little voice called out her new name 'Mama'.

Glancing up from her paperwork she saw her daughter in her dance uniform, complete with the sweet little pink skirt, Bucky had bought for her.

The decision to put Clara into ballet had been hard for Nat, since ballet was tied to the Red Room so closely, but after talking to Bucky it was decided that ballet would be a good outlet for Clara.

Clara stood waiting patiently for her mother to answer, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. She always looked forward to her classes each week, for not only because she loved the sport but because it meant spending time with her friends whilst they learnt, something new together.

Though she still loved it most when she and Natasha danced together. When Natasha finally agreed to do her hair, Clara’s face lit up with a bright smile, with relief and happiness shining through. Even though she could do her own hair now, she still preferred when the older redhead did it.

Clara quickly handed over her hair bag, which contained everything Natasha needed to style it, before sitting down on the coffee table. She pushed her hair back behind her shoulders, waiting patiently.

"Bun please. Miss Dasha said, that braids are not allowed to be worn in class, anymore."

Tallahassee Memorial Healthcare