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" 'Bout damn time," Natasha smirked. She placed her beer on the table, while Irina simply ignored the comment.
She took a seat in the chair she was previously in next to Yelena, then scooted up to the table while Yelena had already settled in her chair. The former Widow rummaged through the plastic baggie between her and Irina for the cleaning alcohol. Finally, Yelena grasped it and pulled the small, clear bottle out. Irina grabbed and moved the baggie to the centre of the two tables as Yelena opened and poured the remainder of cleaning alcohol on her wound.
She winched and groaned, then placed the bottle on the table, "That gas, the counteragent," Irina glanced in her direction, "it was synthesized in secret by an older Widow from Melina's generation." Melina? The name was unfamiliar. Irina made a mental note to eventually ask one of them. Yelena turned her gaze to the surface that her arms are on, and spoke slow, "I was on the mission to retrieve it, and she exposed me and I killed the Widow that freed me." Yelena looked up, and met Natasha's eyes across the table.
Irina stayed quiet, her attention never diverting from Yelena. She wanted to know more about her, the good and bad parts. "Did you have a choice?" Nat asked, not missing a beat.
"What you experienced was physiological conditioning. I'm talking about chemically altering brain functions. They're two completely different things." Yelena's voice wavered slightly, "You're fully conscious, but you don't know which part is you. I'm still not sure," she sounded scared, and it made Irina's stomach churn. That's how Yelena knew about the red vials being an antidote; it was used on her, to cure the mind control she was under for who knows how long.
Absentmindedly, Irina grabbed Yelena's hand. She flinched, but soon gave in. She met Irina's soft brown eyes, and Irina spoke, "You and Nat are living proof that good can come out of the Red Room."
"You don't even know me," Yelena said, while Natasha moved around the table to tend to her wound. Not once did Irina detect any harshness in Yelena's tone; it was soft, and almost quiet, yet it was audible enough for Natasha to hear, and maybe passerby's that were listening intently.
"I know," Irina agreed, and looked at their hands; her's is atop Yelena's. Using the pad of her index finger, Irina lifted the ring finger of Yelena's hand, and fiddled with it. "But I know there's good in you. I can see it in your eyes," she met Yelena's eyes that bore into Irina. Not once did she look away.
Silence passed between them. Natasha cleared her throat, and Irina immediately removed her hand from Yelena's, placing it and her other hand in her lap. Yelena snapped her attention to Nat, "Is that all there is left?" Nat asked, nodding to the red vials.
"Mmm-hmm," Yelena answered. "It's the only thing that can stop Dreykov and his NETWORK OF WIDOWS," her voice grew in pain from Natasha pouring alcohol on the wound, and Nat blew softly on it, squeezing the wound close. Yelena looked at the empty space in front of her, in thought, "He takes more everyday. Children who don't have anyone to protect them," she met Nat's gaze again. "Just like us when we were small. Maybe one in twenty survives the training, becomes a Widow. The rest, he kills. To him, we are just things. Weapons with no face that he can just throw away. Because there is always more. And no one's even looking for him, thanks to you and Alexei."
Irina listened. The entire time she was listening, she watched some kids kick a ball back-and-forth, just outside the bar. She couldn't imagine going through what Yelena and Nat had to experience in the Red Room. And the mere thought of being under chemical subjection, like Yelena had been through, terrified Irina. She felt bad, and her heart tore more with each revelation.
"Alexei?" Natasha asked, now bandaging Yelena's wound. Irina had been too focused on what Yelena had been saying to even realize she, herself, had no clue who this Alexei guy is.
Yelena chuckled dryly, " 'Dad'." She seemed to mock.
Irina's eyes widened. Dad? She snapped her head to them, "What are you talking about?" Natasha cut the excess white bandage she had wrapped around Yelena's wound before she walked back to the chair across her, and sat back in it. Irina looked across the table, "What's she talking about, Nat?"
"He's someone from our past," is all Natasha said, and it was clear she didn't want to say anything else, so Irina left it alone.
"Did you ever look for your parents? Your real ones?" Yelena asked. The laughter of the kids outside grew, and Irina smiled. So innocent to the dangers of this world.
"Well, my mom abandoned me in the street like garbage." Nat picked up her beer, and Irina shifted her gaze to them, "What about you?"
"They destroyed my birth certificate, so I reinvented it." Yelena touched the tip of her nose with the rim of her beer. Irina found the gesture oddly cute. "My parents still live in Ohio. My sister moved out west."
Natasha smiled teasingly and lifted one of her brows, "Is that right?"
Yelena smiled, "You're a science teacher. You're working part-time, though, especially after you had your son."
" 'Sister'?" Irina's shocked expression shifted to one of happiness, and she grinned, "I knew it! You guys totally gave me that vibe from the moment you guys argued during the whole car chase." Both of the former Red Room Widow's chuckled. "And Alexei is your guys's dad, right?" Irina had never been so invested in a conversation until now. She was easily piecing this so-called-family together.
"Something like that," Natasha said. "But he's not our real one."
"Ah," Irina met Yelena's eyes, "so what does Natasha's husband do? Or is she not married anymore."
Yelena chuckled under breath and smiled, locking eyes with Irina, "He renovates houses."
"I'll let him renovate my future house."
Natasha shook her head, "That is not my story."
"You're supposed to go with it, Nat," Irina laughed, as did Yelena, the both of them now looking at the older, red-haired woman.
"What is your story?" Yelena asked.
Natasha tried and failed to hide the grin she wanted to express. She pressed her lips together, and shook her head smally, "I never let myself be alone long enough to think about it."
Yelena nodded to the answer, then stood, reaching across the vacant chair across Irina. "Did you ever wish for kids?" she grabbed a vest; dark green, black straps across the chest, and zipper down the centre, under the straps. Yelena sat back down, and shrugged her vest on, "I want a dog." She then looked at Irina, "What about you?"
Irina's forehead creased. "What about me?"
"Story, kids . . . your opinion on dogs."
The darker-haired woman chuckled, "I'm Iron Man's daughter," she pushed the black-framed, gas station glasses Yelena stole up the bridge of her nose, "born and raised in the limelight. The entire world knows me more than I know myself." Irina shrugged, "I don't really know my own story, honestly," she grew quiet.
"Maybe your time away from the media will help," Yelena offered, and it was comforting. "And kids? Do you want any in the future?"
Irina shrugged, "I've never really thought about it. I'm not totally opposed to the idea anymore, but I'd much rather have a dog." Yelena smiled, and Irina returned it.
Yelena outstretched her beer towards Irina, offering it to her. On instinct, Irina glanced at Nat for permission, even thought she's 20 and doesn't need any, she still felt obligated to do so. Nat nodded, and sipped her own.
Irina took the beer from Yelena and sipped it. Her face contorted and scrunched are the bitter taste, "Ughh, this is awful." She handed the beer back to Yelena, "You can have this back."
Both Natasha and Yelena chuckled, "Vodka is better," Yelena informed and drank some of her beer.
"Where you gonna go?" Natasha asked, Yelena removing her beer from her lips.
She played with it in her hands, looking down, "I don't know. I don't really have anywhere to go back to, so I guess anywhere." Natasha leaned forward, Yelena still staring at her seriously, "Don't."
"Don't what?" Nat asked innocently.
Yelena chuckled lowly, "You're going to give me some big hero speech, I can feel it."
Nat shook her head, lips pressing together, "Speeches aren't really my thing."
Yelena's expression relaxed more, "Oh."
"It was more like an invitation." The eldest woman elaborated.
"To go to the Red Room and kill Dreykov?"
"Yeah."
"Even though the Red Room is impossible to find and Dreykov's too slippery to kill?"
"Yeah."
"That sounds like a shitload of work."
"Yup," Natasha agreed, then sighed. "Could be fun, though." She tried hiding a smile again.
"Yup," Yelena copied. She then looked to the youngest of the trio, "And what about you? You coming?"
Irina thought on it for a moment. Where else would she go? She can't possible run from Secretary Ross by herself. She feels she has no choice, though an adventure with these two sounded fun.
"She's not coming," Natasha stated.
"What? Why not?" Irina's voice raised a few octaves higher, "I can take care of myself."
"Yelena and I will do this ourselves. We'll drop you off at the nearest train station. You'll get a ticket back to Norway and stay there. Rick'll make sure you're good," Nat had the entire plan mapped out.
"So this plan you have fully developed, but not any other?" Irina asked, bitterly.
"What we're gonna do is dangerous. Who we're going after, is dangerous, and I'm not gonna let you get hurt, or die. End of discussion," Natasha stood, and strode toward the nearest exit.
Irina stood abruptly, and took the complete opposite way out of the building. She was annoyed. Always getting treated like this naive, defenceless girl.
She sat on the curb on one of the far corners of the bar. Yellow streetlights lined parts of the uneven and cracked road, the night bugs singing their songs. She's perfectly fine after the events
She's perfectly fine after the events in 2014, though she rarely did any fighting. Dreykov's no different than Bucky Barnes.
"If you don't want me coming, then leave me here and I'll find a way back to Norway myself," Irina grumbled. She wasn't in the mood.
"I wouldn't do that to you." Yelena stopped behind her, and Irina looked up at her. She pulled Yelena's blazer closer to her, "And neither would Natasha." Yelena joined Irina on the curb, "She's just trying to protect you, Irene."
"But I don't need it," Irina pulled a blade grass that started growing between the crack of the concrete between her feet. She folded it, "All my life, that's all I've ever done. Hid and be protected while everyone around me did good. For once, I want to be more than that. I want to do good in this shitty world."
"Killing Dreykov is quite the start," Yelena sighed when Irina narrowed her eyes. She wasn't helping. "Look . . . he's not a thief or some bank robber. He is one of the world's most dangerous men. If he caught you, he would put you through worse than Natasha and I had gone through. You're Tony Stark's daughter, and perhaps the Avengers' weakness. Imagine what he could do." She made valid points, but Irina still wanted to come. To prove to the world that she's more than just Tony Stark's daughter.
"You don't understand," Irina kept her gaze down, the blade of grass she once played with now on the ground.
"I do."
"There's more to this than being more than just Tony Stark's daughter." Irina had never been able to rid her memory of Killian. She hated more than anything that she was helpless against him. She never wanted to feel like that again. "When I was 17, a man who called himself the 'Mandarin' became one of my dad's greatest enemies. Killian had completely destroyed my home, and in doing so, made the entire world believe he killed my dad. That was the purpose of it all."
Irina took a deep breath, and steadied the shaking in her hands by shoving them in the pockets of Yelena's blazer. "Irene, you don't—"
"I want to," Irina met Yelena's unreadable eyes, while her deep brown ones were glossy. "You wanted to know my story. Well this is a big part it."
"If it's too much to say, then don't. Tell me more when you're ready," Yelena offered, and Irina immediately nodded. She's never talked to anyone, not even Nat about Killian and all he'd done. Not only to Pepper, but herself too.
"Doesn't seem so scary," Irina chuckled softly to herself, and almost bitterly. "You barely know anything."
"I'm sure you have your reasons." Their eyes locked, "And, I'm sure there's more to it than your family home being destroyed."
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