Red. | marvel [1]

t w e n t y - f o u r

As much as Elana loves Natasha like a mother and as much as Natasha has a maternal pull towards the girl ten years her junior, both despise a similar trait in each other; their stubbornness.

Natasha refuses to stop trying to get Elana to talk about her feelings and Elana refuses to try and talk about anything but her work and training. Both are getting slowly more frustrated.
"Elana-"
"Not a chance, Nat," the younger girl sighs.
"Ela," Natasha whines. A small flicker of softness flashes through her eyes at the mention of her sweet nickname, but it's gone and stubbornness retakes it's full position.
"Natasha, no. I don't want to tell you how I fell, I want you to help me adjust!" Elana groans.
"And I can't do that without you telling me how you feel," Natasha replies.
"ерунда," Elana retorts. Bollocks.
"For God's sake, Elana," Natasha chastises (although an amused smile has found her face at the girl's blunt nature).
"I still don't understand why you need to me to tell you how I feel. That sounds so... soppy and you know it," Elana states, sitting back in her seat.
"Soppy is good sometimes," Natasha assures her, wrapping an arm around the reluctant girl. "How are you feeling about all of this?"

Elana sighs, but her resilience cracks. "Hopeful," she says quietly. "Hopeful that I will be able to do something good with these new developments."
Natasha nods slowly. "That's good. Being hopeful helps when you're trying to adjust."
"But also annoyed. Because Steve... he just doesn't seem to get off my ass," she says, a frown adorning her face. "I'm not sure what to about it. He just makes me so annoyed so quickly."
"I've known Steve just as long as you, but I still don't fully understand him," Natasha frowns.
"Oh, I understand him. His actions and his words speak equally loudly. He's old but he's trapped in the body of a twenty-something year old. He's alone since everyone he used to know is dead or almost dead," she says bluntly. "He is stuck in his 1940's ways and is reluctant to come out of them because that's all he has left of his time in history, of his originally time. That means that what he deems unnecessary killing shouldn't be happening, people have to listen to him and not argue because he's a Captain, he had the Howling Commandos and they let him lead them into battle and now that he's back he's got the Avengers and he wants us to be the same group, really. But he's struggling to accept the changes and that's what sets us apart. I've grown up in a world of espionage and assassination but he never would've dreamed of a world where a seventeen year old Russian could kick his ass in this way." She shrugs her shoulders gently. Before continuing.  "He's struggling to adapt, almost in the same way I am. He's known something different for the major part of his life and so have I. We're similar but like magnets. Same poles repel. But we're being forced together by the Avengers and by S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I understand where you're coming from," Natasha nods, "but did you ever think that the two of you could help each other? You have a modern day fight within you; women's rights and the rights of the minorities, you've spoken passionately about both topics. Steve believes in those too! And the fight to be free of something that you were forced into and something you didn't want but in the process you had to accept that you had no one. Steve has to fight for the freedom of people seventy years ago and lost everything doing that."
"At least he had them to begin with," Elana mutters sadly.
"And so did you, at one point in time. But my point is, if you two took a little more time to get to know each other I think you'd actually get along quite well," Nat shrugs.
"I'm not sure if I want to get to know him. He's just a reluctant teammate," Elana shrugs.

"Oh! Yes, how do you feel about officially being an Avenger?" Natasha asks, slight excitement in her voice.
"Uh, nauseous most of the time. A little bit of pride and success in there, but mostly sick," she nods.
"Why sick?"
"This isn't twenty questions, Natasha," the younger reminds her.
"Just answer that one. Why do you feel sick?"
"It's a lot of people in one team, some of which are... volatile. There are eyes on us all the time and by just being here I'm putting the three people I probably care about most in serious danger. You, Bruce and Tony all reside in the Tower at one time or another and if people are watching then they'll want to hit at home. I can't stand the thought of the people who have helped me so much being caught in the crossfire between my past and my future," Elana explains quietly.
"Trust me, we will fight before we allow anything to happen to you. JARVIS is the best security system we could ask for and we are always ready to fight together for the sake of anyone on the team," Natasha assures her.
"That's what I'm afraid of."

Elana wakes up with a yell of pain. Her head feels like someone has cracked it open like a coconut at least three times.
"Miss Sokolov, are you in distress? Do I need to call Mr Banner or Miss Romanoff?" JARVIS asks.
"Mr Banner, please," she groans, holding her head as some tears begin to form in her eyes. She knows it's Bruce before he even opens the door. It's like she feels the panic, sees his worried thoughts. He opens the door and his heart wrenches to see the strongest person he knows curled up in a ball in such a way. He gets closer quietly before sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Elana?"
"I don't know what to do. I think... I think it's the telepathy but everything's so loud," she cries.
"What does it sound like?" Bruce asks gently, rubbing her shoulder.
"It sounds like white noise until someone gets closer. Than it's clear what they're thinking," she sniffs, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller. Bruce stops to let himself think, knowing Elana must be picking up on it. His mind lands on some form of suppressor that might help to stop the white noise.
"Please. Just for a while, until I get used to it," she requests, her voice thick.
"Okay, fine. I'll be back in a second," Bruce nods. He retreats slowly and his thoughts fade into the white noise. She closes her eyes and waits until Bruce returns, this time with Tony and Thor behind her.
"All I'm saying is that I could take her to Asgard to help her. We have training facilities that may be able to help," Thor says as he enters the room.
"She's not going anywhere, Thor. She's safest here," Tony says sternly before moving forward with a little pill bottle in his hands. "Hey, Russian Doll. These are the suppressors. One at night to help you sleep, one in the morning to get you through the day. Training mornings, don't take one. That way we can monitor your progress."
Tony hands her a pill and she takes it dry, waiting impatiently for it to kick in. Over a few minutes, the noise fades until she can sit up shakily and finally get up. She sighs. This road of learning may be longer and more painful than she expected.