Some days, I feel everything at once.
Other days, I feel nothing at all.
I don't know what's worse;
Drowning beneath the waves
Or dying from the thirst
A blue truck slides across the dark road into the woods of New Jersey. Three quiet people sit within this blue vehicle: one blonde and two matching redheads. Svetlana yawns tiredly as she pulls her small thin knees to her flat chest. Her blue eyes are wide with awe as she stares around at the car's interior and at the forest outside. She's only ever been in the back of a vehicle before where they trained weapons on her and where she's forced to sit on a hard metal bench. Now she's sitting on a comfortable, cushiony seat that's warming her back and making her feel cozy. The forest no longer feels intimidating. It isn't something she has to sprint through, leaping over fallen trees and dropping under bushes when the bullets start flying. It isn't something that she has to analyze in case there are unseen attackers hiding behind every tree.
Now, everything is just simply safe.
She feels safe.
It's strange.
"Svet, seatbelt," Steve suddenly tells her, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.
The thirteen year old confusedly latches the belt across her torso. When Steve sees that she's obeyed, he gives a small nod and focuses back on the road stretching out before them. Svet's decided she likes the captain. He can a little bit bossy, but he's nice all the same. It's clear that he still doesn't fully trust her, but he did take off her handcuffs and that's a good thing. She's not quite certain why, but she knows that she would fight against those that come for her new friends. Well, if that is what she may call them: friends.
She has friends in her story. There aren't a lot. She doesn't want to be selfish in asking for too many; she's perfectly grateful with just the one or two. Her friends fight with her, not against her. They defend and protect her, just as she does the same for them. They stand side-by-side when the frightening things happen. They don't hit her or make her bleed. They make her laugh like she's made her soldier laugh. Though, the soldier has never made her laugh; she doesn't blame him, it's just the way it is. But friends would. And Natasha and Steve have made her laugh.
Svetlana licks her lips and shrugs a little, still looking around in interest. Natasha keeps glancing back at the girl sitting cuddled up in the backseat. It's nearly as if she expects her to just suddenly disappear at any moment. That's how it seems to be with her little family anyway. They're here. And then they're not. She's not sure if she's necessarily angry at that fact anymore. It's just the way it is. How odd it is that both mother and daughter have that mindset. They accept the misery, they accept the loss, the suffering, and the lies because it's just the way it is. It's hard to be angry at the manner of things; it makes it difficult to do the job.
Yet here her little baby is again. She's still small, probably much smaller than most girls her age should be. She has her father's eyes and her mother's hair; two very distinguishing features. Natasha wonders what would have happened if she had been there for Svet; if she had escaped that night from the Red Room when everything went wrong. Natasha wouldn't have S.H.I.E.L.D., sure, but she'd have little Svet.
They would have found some nice small town in Russia or even America to live in. It, after all, seemed to work out pretty well for Clint and Laura. Natasha would have been there for Svet's first laugh, first steps, her first words, all of the first things that a child does. She missed those. She missed being able to tickle her sides and rock her gently to sleep. She'd have been there for the climbing of trees, for the movie nights, and the little girl giggles and the pony tails. She'd kiss her forehead each night when she went to sleep and when she woke again before she went to school. Maybe Svet would have been able to hear if she'd hadn't screwed up the escape. It's Natasha's fault that Svet can't hear; it's her fault that her daughter is a murderer.
The woman swallows harshly, running her tongue along her teeth as she fights back tears. When Svetlana catches her glances, she smiles at Natasha who smiles back. The woman is leant back in her seat with her feet lifted up. She is the picture of ease; it is nearly hard to imagine that they are on the run from the government, whichever one Svet doesn't know. Pushing away all of her previous thoughts and feelings, Natasha turns her head back towards Steve and watches him with a serious expression.
"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?"
"Nazi Germany," he adjusts in his seat as he keeps his eyes on the road.
"Hm," Natasha hums back.
"And we're borrowing," he eyes her before nodding to her raised feet, "Take your feet off the dash."
Oh yes, he's bossy.
Svet raises her eyebrows at the assassin who just smirks and obeys.
"Alright, I have a question for you," Steve looks over at the woman as she goes on, "which you do not have to answer. I feel like, if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?"
"What?" Steve asks, slightly exasperated as he nods for her to just spit it out.
She asks with a mischievous smirk, "Was that your first kiss since 1945?"
Svet sighs as she curls her arms around her knees.
They're talking about kissing again.
"That bad, huh?"
Natasha's voice raises as she tries not to be rude, "I didn't say that."
"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying," he smiles a little.
"No, I didn't," the woman amusedly struggles to explain herself, "I just wondered how much practice you've had."
"Practice? You don't need practice."
"Everybody needs practice!"
Svet sighs again, shaking her head as she stares past the two adults.
"It was not my first kiss since 1945," Steve quickly interrupts, "I'm ninety-five, I'm not dead."
Ninety-five? Steve is ninety-five? Aren't people supposed to be, well, dead by that point? Svetlana unbuckles her seatbelt and falls onto her side on the backseat, studying the side of Steve's face intently. She's looking for wrinkles. The Superior has wrinkles. That means he's old; or, at least, that's what her papa told her when she asked.
"Nobody special, though?" Natasha quietly asks, still staring at him.
Steve huffs a sarcastic laugh, making Svet focus back onto the conversation.
There's a small pause before Steve continues on lightly, but there's a sadness pulling down his tone that Natasha notices, "Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience."
"Well, that's alright," the woman glances around, casually, "You just make something up."
"What?" Steve looks at her, raising his brows, "Like you?"
"I don't know. The truth is a matter of circumstance. It's not all things to all people, all the time," Natasha's eyes dart up to the rearview window to see the little redheaded girl who's back to staring at Steve again, "Neither am I."
He looks at her, speaking seriously, "That's a tough way to live."
She blinks, memory falling into her voice, "It's a good way not to die, though."
"You know, it's kind of hard to trust someone, when you don't know who that someone really is."
Who really is Natasha Romanoff? It's hard to know for certain. She's been so many people for so very long. She guesses Natasha Romanoff is just the closest she has ever gotten to really being who she wants to be.
"Yeah," she speaks thoughtfully, even as the memories still linger, "Who do you want me to be?"
His voice is kind as he turns back to look at her, "How about a friend?"
She gives a bitter, breathy laugh.
A friend. Now that is a concept she doesn't hear of often. She's not sure she's ever had many friends. There is Clint and there was Fury. James wasn't a friend. He was more, but he held a gun to her head and she was going to leave him behind at the end. All things come to a close at some point. The end of the line always comes.
Her smile fades as she sings in a low voice, "Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."
He just gives her a hint of a smile before looking back out at the road. The sun is setting by the time they reach Wheaton, NJ, as Svet called it. Natasha is holding the high-tech phone in her hand, watching the coordinates and other information bleep as they pull up onto the base's gate. The thirteen year old yawns again as she scratches at her fluffy, unruly hair.
"This is it," Natasha says as they climb out of the vehicle, "The file came from these coordinates."
"So did I," the world is dark as the three walk through the base, trying to pinpoint the signal location as Steve goes on, "This camp is where I was trained."
Svet looks around in thought, wondering what kind of men went through bases like this.
"Changed much?"
"A little," Steve looks off into the distance, a look of recollection filling his eyes.
"This is a dead end. Zero heat signatures, zero waves, not even radio. Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off," Natasha notices Steve looking oddly at a building a ways away, "What is it?"
"Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks. This building is in the wrong place."
As Steve breaks the lock, the trio slowly steps into the darkness of the building. Natasha keeps a hand on Svet's arm as they creep down the staircase. When the lights appear from all around Svetlana, she finds herself standing in a wide open, gray-colored room with an emblem of an eagle on the wall.
"This is S.H.I.E.L.D."
An office full of desks and toppled chairs where she can nearly see busy people bustling around, feeling purpose and pride. This is S.H.I.E.L.D.? Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. as it should be. This is not so bad. Svetlana walks around slowly, not saying anything as she watches everything with an interested gaze.
"Maybe where it started."
When they come up onto a group of picture frames lining the gray wall, Natasha nods to one with a mustached man, "And there's Stark's father."
Stark? Has she heard that name before? She thinks she has. Where has she heard that name before?
"Howard," Steve states, nostalgia still on his face.
Natasha keeps her eyes on Steve as she refers to the brunette woman in the frame, "Who's the girl?"
He doesn't answer, slowly walking way. Svet looks after her new friend in confusion before looking at Natasha for an answer. Why does he look sad? Natasha simply gives her a sad shrug before guiding her on after Steve who is watching a group of large bookcases in confusion.
"If you're already working in a secret office," he suddenly pushes the bookcases to the side to reveal an elevator before them, "why do you need to hide the elevator?"
Svet's face is still confused when they enter a strange room full of old computers and databanks. She doesn't know much about technology, but she's seen some of it within the Front. This looks different, this looks, well, old.
"This can't be the data point. This technology is ancient."
Natasha notices a flashdrive port and she quickly steps closer, sliding her flashdrive into it. The big, old computer boots up and Svet moves up behind Natasha, watching all of the strange technology with intrigued eyes. She was never allowed near the machines in the Front or even at the Siberian Facility. It's strange to see it work.
"Y-E-S spells yes," Natasha clicks her fingers against the keyboard before saying in a strange voice, smiling, "'Shall we play a game?'"
Steve and Svet look over at the woman with blank expressions, "It's from a movie that was really,"
"I know," Steve interrupts, "Lisa showed me."
The screen suddenly comes with life; strange pixels of green flickering up here and there. The rounded disks in the cabinets behind are spinning and the little rectangular camera shifts as it turns to look at those standing before it. What looks nearly like a face appears before them. It has the outline of round-lensed glasses and where the mouth should be brightens when sound emits from the device. Steve watches on as a sudden look of reminiscence takes over his features.
Tugging on Natasha's arm, Svet looks at her in confusion, "What is happening? Is it something bad, Natasha?"
The supersoldier and assassin both look down at her, remembering that the girl cannot hear. The two adults meet each other's eyes and their faces become sad.
"It's speaking," Natasha moves her lips, repeating the words so that Svet can see and understand, "It's says, 'Rogers, Steven. Born 1918'."
The camera slowly moves until it settles on Natasha's face and the woman begins repeating, "'Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born 1984'."
The camera tilts down into the center as it finds the girl who looks fearfully up at it.
"'Asset Plan B. Born 2001'."
The girl flinches at the name and Natasha rubs her arm in comfort, looking around in confusion, "It's... some kind of recording."
Both adults then seem to lose interest in trying to explain to the girl just what the green man on the screen is saying. Svet frowns and her forehead wrinkles as she squints at the machine's green face, trying to understand. The second smaller screen set to the right suddenly reveals a black and white of an unhappy looking man that looks strangely similar to the green man on the first screen. The adults' faces become something strange as realization settles over Steve and Natasha looks at him in surprise.
Natasha nods her head to the computer, "You know this thing?"
Steve walks around the back of the desk as Svetlana steps around Natasha to follow his words, "Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He's been dead for years."
The machine seems to be speaking again and Svet shakes her head in confusion, "What? Rasskazhi mne. What is it, Natasha?" Tell me.
"This is Zola's knowledge," she nods to the databanks around, "All of this is what was inside his brain."
"Oh," Svet says back quietly, though still very confused.
How could his brain be on machines?
Steve stops back beside the two females, staring back at the screen, "How did you get here?"
"It was Operation Paperclip," Natasha explains to them, "after World War II, S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited German scientists with strategic value."
"HYDRA died with the Red Skull," Steve says firmly, not allowing himself to believe any differently.
HYDRA? Svet's brows furrow. That is something she has seen tossed along the lips of the guards, soldiers, and doctors ever since she can remember. It's just a word. She doesn't understand the significance of what that little word is. It's not until the screen flashes with the frightening symbol of a head with exactly six tentacles that Svet understands. She lets outs a quick gasp, stepping back hurriedly. It's them. The Superior and the ones that control her papa and the mean men that hurt her in ways that make her have nightmares. This, this place is them? The two adults glance at the girl with surprise as she looks back with wide eyes.
The screen then begins to flash with images that pull Svet deeper and deeper into the world she was born into, the world that she belongs to. A man with a frightening face appears first with a flag with a black spider on it flowing behind him. An entire army of soldiers with their fists raised appear next before a group of another kind of soldier runs off of boats. Posters flash across the screen and then Steve's face, from what must be so very long ago, comes next. Men in fancy suits and other such politicians arise before the eagle symbol comes along with other old pictures of people, cities, the man called Zola, and newspaper clippings. The HYDRA symbol begins to show up more and more frequently through the flashes.
The trio slowly steps closer to the screens as looks of denial and shock scratch the adults. Svet begins to hyperventilate, gasping in through her cannula as she feels suddenly so out of breath. She hurriedly steps forward and presses her small fingers to the glass when a metal arm with a red star appears on the screen.
"Papa," she whispers with longing in her tone.
Natasha's eyes fall to her shoes briefly, feeling a tinge of longing herself. No, she can't allow herself to feel that way.
Steve looks at the girl quickly. He knew that the soldier and the girl worked together, but for her to be his daughter? His hatred for HYDRA only grows as he thinks about the fact that a thirteen year old has been forced into living a life like that. HYDRA, her father, they made her into a killer.
As the flashes continue, Natasha steps up, denying whatever it is the green man is saying, "That's impossible. S.H.I.E.L.D. would have stopped you."
A picture of a young man with a mustache and black bars covering his eyes floods the screen and then come pictures of a car accident. Two dead people lie with their faces bent forward and a battered yet alive little girl stands out on the road. Nick Fury comes next with the big black word, 'DECEASED' stamped along his face. Svet's hand drops and she looks down in shame, peeking back at Natasha in apology. Natasha is too caught up in the horror of what she's seeing to even notice the girl, though. Her eyes are wide while Steve's brows are scrunched.
Svet can't stand to watch as devastating event after event, some of which she can remember having a hand in causing, plays out before them. She jumps when Steve suddenly punches his fist to the green man's main screen.
The glass shatters and breaks in, and the image fades away only for the green man to pop back up again on the next screen over.
Steve looks over at it sharply before demanding angrily, "What's on this drive?"
The thirteen year old stops asking what's being said as she carefully looks around. She can't seem to control her breathing and her hands are shaking more than she can really recall them ever doing before. She's so scared. She doesn't want to go back to Rumlow or to the Superior. They're mean to her and they're mean to her papa. And she's been away for so long. If they find her again, they'll punish her for not finding a way back to them. Oh God, or they might even send her back to the Red Room to be "retrained", as they threatened to do when she was first put out into the field.
The girl's blue eyes suddenly widen when Steve hurls a shield past her body, smashing it into the closing metal doors. The shield bounces back, meeting Steve's arm as he looks around wildly for an escape.
Svet quickly whirls around on one foot to find Natasha looking down at her phone, "Guys, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic. Thirty seconds tops."
"Who fired it?!" Steve asks in horror.
At the same time Natasha answers with, "S.H.I.E.L.D.", Svetlana says lowly, "HYDRA."
Steve and Natasha look at the dead-faced girl. She's right. S.H.I.E.L.D. did fire the missile, surely, but HYDRA fired it too. They're one and the same. Everything these two adults have ever believed was false. It's a horribly twisted web of lies and the Black Widow's daughter stands at the center of it.
Still looking around, Steve hurriedly picks Svetlana up and begins sprinting towards the grating he spots in the ground. He tears the metal bars away and tosses it to the side. He reaches back to Natasha who runs over as the missile dives through the sky, coming straight for the building. Svet looks over the big man's shoulder just as the adults drop themselves through the hole.
They're out of time.
The room around them bursts into flames and debris as they land down hard into what seems like a tunnel. With a panicked shriek, Svetlana throws one arm around Steve's neck and her other around Natasha's. Steve quickly brings up the shield and Natasha wraps her arms around Svet, all of them trying to survive the canopy of flames that remains above them. The building crushes down as the base in the middle of New Jersey is blown to bits. Darkness fills the girl's vision and she screams as her flesh begins to burn and sizzle. Natasha's arms that were wrapped around Svetlana suddenly fall limp and the woman disappears from behind her. The girl screams once more as she reaches through the falling earth to find her.
And then it's all over.
No one moves.
Svetlana can feel her heart racing so rapidly that it aches against the inside of her chest. Her cannula feels thick with dust and smoke and she just can't seem to breathe in. She gasps hurriedly as she tries to scramble out from underneath the concrete surrounding her.
She has to get out.
She has to find Steve and Natasha.
She has to help her friends.
The dark sky suddenly becomes one of fiery red as the concrete is pulled off of her and Steve stands there with wide, worried eyes. She quickly stretches her arms out for him and he heaves her up to a standing position.
"Steve," the girl struggles to breathe, much less speak, "N-Nat-asha, where is she?" she slips back into Russian in her panic, "Gde ona? Ona mertva?!" Where is she? Is she dead?!
Steve pulls the hyperventilating girl to his chest, not answering her questions as he scours the area for the assassin. Red hair that looks ashen even among the flames and fallen cement catches his attention. He quickly pushes the girl off of him so that he can bend and then he pulls the unconscious woman into his arms. Svet picks up Natasha's hanging hand, clinging tightly to her fingers.
Svetlana's lungs and her eyes burn so viciously that she's frightened it might kill her. An odd look of shock comes over her face as she gently lifts her free hand to touch the tears that are slicing through the dirt on her face. She isn't quite sure how long it's been since she's cried. She's wanted to cry, certainly, but for the tears to truly fall? Years. That's how long it's been. And now she cries for Natasha Romanoff, the woman she thought was a traitor.
Steve looks at Svet and gives her a ragged yet reassuring nod. Without bothering to wipe the glowing tears from her cheeks, Svetlana gives a nod in response. The two look around in shock of the devastation that their own kind brought down upon them: S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA. The fire blazes red and orange behind the trio, illuminating the dirty faces of the man, woman, and child.
"Nowhere is safe," Svetlana wheezes out, holding a hand to where her lungs sit.
Steve doesn't look back at her as he takes a step through the rubble, "There might be one more place."
♛♛♛
The darkness covers the Soldier's face as he stares blankly at the Superior.
"I'm going to go, Mr. Pierce," the Superior's housekeeper speaks up from around the corner, "You need anything before I leave?"
"No," the Superior keeps his gaze on the Soldier who does not move, who hardly seems to breathe, "Uh, it's fine, Renata, you can go home."
"Okay," the kind lady chimes, "Night-night."
"Goodnight," the Superior closes the refrigerator door, speaking casually to the Soldier, "Want some milk?"
The Soldier just stares at him as one beam of light ignites his ocean eyes.
"The timetable has moved," Alexander Pierce's voice suddenly grows serious, "Our window is limited. Two targets, Level Six. They already cost me Zola. Plan B is with them."
The Soldier stiffens at the mention of his child. He didn't want to leave her behind. He didn't have a choice. Besides, he knew that it would've been worse if he did wait for her. HYDRA knew everything. They would have found out that he had waited for her and then they would've hurt her. He hoped she'd be safer wherever the blonde man from the roof kept her. He was thinking perhaps she was just kept in a cell somewhere, hopefully untouched, hopefully waiting for him to find her. But these targets have her? They're making her be with them?
"I want confirmed extraction for Plan B and death for the targets in ten hours."
The Soldier's eyes dart to the woman now standing in the doorway who wears a shocked expression at what she's seeing, "Sorry, Mr. Pierce, I... I forgot my phone."
"Oh, Renata, I wish you would have knocked," the Superior suddenly turns around, aiming his gun and shooting the housekeeper directly in the chest.
♛♛♛
The backdoor to a small, D.C. house suddenly slides open and a dark-skinned man dressed in running clothes stands there. Across from the man is a trio of a man, a woman, and a child, all covered in dirt and torn clothing. Steve is watching the man with an apologetic expression and Natasha's face is dark while she keeps her arm around Svetlana.
"Hey, Man," the dark-skinned man casually says to Steve, although he's still looking at the trio with confusion on his face.
"I'm sorry about this," Steve shakes his head, speaking breathily as Natasha looks around in caution, "We need a place to lay low."
Natasha pipes up from a step beside Steve, watching the man from across her forehead, "Everyone we know is trying to kill us."
The man's face falls to one of serious and sympathetic understanding as he stares at the woman and child. Svetlana keeps her gaze not entirely on anyone, only just enough to read what they're saying. The man looks from Svet, to Natasha, and then finally back to Steve.
"Not everyone." he steps back, giving the trio enough room to enter.
Steve and Natasha make Svetlana stumble in first before they both quickly follow. The man glances around in caution, checking the street to make sure the group haven't been followed. When he's sure all is clear, he quickly closes the glass door, drops the blinds, and turns to face the fugitives. Steve stands slightly in front of the two females while Svetlana is still leaning into Natasha.
The girl was still quietly crying when the woman came to. Svetlana had hurriedly thrown herself into an embrace as soon as Steve put Natasha down. The mother was, of course, taken aback but she eagerly welcomed the hug, quietly hushing the panicked girl. Svet hasn't really calmed down since, especially with the cannula being clogged with the ash from the explosion. The only time she seems to be remotely alright is when Natasha keeps her close, so that's what she's been doing.
"Why don't you all get cleaned up and then we can talk?" the man motions down the hallway, "The spare bedroom and bathroom are down there to your right."
Natasha gives a stern nod, carefully guiding and turning Svetlana down the hall.
"Thanks, Sam," once Steve sees that his two girls disappear into the bedroom, he turns back to the man, "I really appreciate this."
"Yeah, I saw the news," Sam's eyes widen as he cocks his chin to the side slightly, "Those are some, uh, serious charges."
"Natasha and I are innocent," Steve is quick to explain.
"No, no, I believe you."
The supersoldier nods, letting out a small sigh of tension.
Sam tilts his chin over his new friend's shoulder, "Who's the kid?"
Steve glances back at the empty doorway, thinking about the thirteen year who has grown on him in the past seemingly long hours, "A friend. Now. She used to be tied up with some bad people."
"But you got her out?"
Steve nods tiredly, waiting for the girls to finish cleaning themselves up.
"It's good she's got you and your friend, then," Sam moves to the windows to close the blinds.
Steve's brows suddenly furrow and he looks over his shoulder, thinking about the assassin and the child, "Yeah."
♛♛♛
"Who is Samuel Thomas Wilson?" Svetlana speaks up, crooking an eyebrow at the driver's license she holds.
Natasha furrows her brows, popping out from behind Svet where she's been combing the girl's hair. They're both fresh and clean now with all of the soot and blood washed away. It was difficult to get Svetlana's cannula clean without the girl being in pain, but Natasha did her best to be quick and efficient. Now Svetlana's breathing easily once more. She has also stifled back any of the tears she was previously shedding in slight embarrassment. She still has stayed close to Natasha though, suddenly feeling the need to protect her. If only that little girl could understand that she needs protecting far more than Natasha Romanoff does.
Natasha's light-eyed gaze falls to the Svet's small hands. She looks back at her with wide and questioning eyes, simply waiting for the answer as if nothing could possibly be wrong.
"Did you steal that?" Natasha nods to the license though she keeps her gaze on Svet.
She nods enthusiastically, nearly proudly.
"Huh," Natasha then shrugs before going back to combing out the knots in the girl's hair, "Well, I think he's somebody we can trust. Steve trusts Sam and I trust Steve," it's a new development, honestly, but it feels good to be able to trust someone again, "Don't you trust Steve?"
"Oh yes," Svet quickly says as if trying to prove something.
The silence stretches on. Svetlana stares off into space while Natasha gently sets the comb down and then begins to braid her daughter's red hair. She smiles a little as the girl patiently waits, allowing her to do this. She always wanted to. It's nice to be something other than what everyone around her sees her as. It's another persona, she supposes, this time it's one of a mother. But it's different. This one is real. This one is Natasha Romanoff. This one is the closest she can get to being who she really wants to be.
"Sam is Steve's friend?" Svetlana suddenly yet quietly asks for clarification.
"Mmhm, yeah. I would say that Sam is Steve's friend."
"I have a friend," she whispers, rubbing the bruise that still lingers around her chin from where Rumlow grabbed her all those days ago.
"You do?" Natasha asks kindly, still braiding her hair, "Who's your friend?"
"The Superior," she whispers back, poking down so hard onto the bruise until it hurts, "He says he's my friend."
Natasha's fingers still within the girl's hair and her gaze turns hard. The Superior. She remembers when James mentioned his superior those fourteen years ago. While she never met him, she knew he had a reputation for being clever, conniving, and cruel. To think that her little girl was in the hands of that man; it's enough to make her sick. Taking in what is intended to be a deep and calming breath, she takes hold of Svet's waist and turns her around so that she can look at her.
"Your superior," she dips her forehead down, "Do you know his name?"
"They never tell me anything," Svet shakes her head.
Natasha frowns at her response, her eyes darting thoughtfully off to the side.
"Natasha?"
The woman looks back at her, waiting.
"The Superior hits me."
Natasha's expression hardens once again.
"But I don't understand."
"Okay," she chooses her words carefully, trying to figure out how to best handle the situation, "What do you not understand, Svet?"
"You're my friend, yes?"
A friend. God, she just told Steve that friends don't exist in this sort of world. This world is dark and cold, and you betray the person beside you before they have the chance. There are no friends. There are alliances, certainly, but friendships were different. They were more pure. You depend on them not because you have no other choice or because you need someone to watch your back in a fight. Friends are there simply because they are needed. And she will be that for Svet. She will be anything and everything for this little girl.
"Sure, Svet, yes," Natasha answers, beginning to once again braid her hair even as she faces the girl.
"But you and Steve don't hit me," her tone isn't even close to being sad, it's thoughtful and confused; perhaps that's the saddest part.
Natasha softly takes the girl's face in her hands and then she gives her a smile. It's the kind of smile that shows something deeper, something more, something heartfelt. And Natasha hasn't worn this smile in so long.
"Svet, he isn't your friend. If he was your friend, he would be good to you. He wouldn't hurt you or hurt your father. Friends take care of each other."
"I lied," the thirteen year old suddenly whispers, a look of agony on her face.
"Lied?" Natasha makes a confused expression, "About what?"
Her blue eyes look glossy as a strange guilt tugs at her heart, "My name."
"Oh. Your name isn't Svet?"
The girl shakes her head, pauses, and then nods, "Svetlana."
Natasha smiles again, speaking in a soft and comforting voice, "Well, that's okay, it's still close. Svetlana is a very pretty name."
"Papa chose it," Svet beams, speaking with pride, "He didn't like the other one."
"Plan B."
She grows solemn as she nods.
There's another moment of silence as Natasha finishes braiding Svetlana's hair. The thirteen year old just stares off at the wall, barely blinking as the minutes go by. There's this sad mixture of emotion on her face and she looks as if she isn't quite sure how to handle it. She's never been taught that emotions were good. The Red Room beat them out of her and her papa struggled with feeling anything at all. Then Natasha was gone from her during the base attack and something within her little heart snapped. Now there are all of these feelings of fear and loss and sadness and joy and restlessness. Perhaps she had them before; maybe she just couldn't distinguish them. She's not sure. It's all so tangled and jumbled up that she can't make sense of anything.
Svetlana bites down hard onto her lip and the words barely make sound as she says, "Is my papa a bad man?"
Natasha pulls in a sudden breath, her eyes looking around in deep thought. How is she supposed to answer a question like that? With truth. Don't make something up, Natasha, she thinks to herself, it's not a matter of circumstance. Not here. Not now. Not with her.
"Your papa does bad things,"
The girl struggles to swallow and her fingers fumble with her cannula.
Natasha goes on carefully, "I've done bad things. You have too. Does that make us bad people?" Svetlana watches her with wide eyes, needing to hear the answer, "I'm not sure. I hope not."
Svetlana slowly nods, rubbing at her nose and yawning once more.
"Alright, Kiddo," Natasha pats her arm, "Go get some rest," when Svetlana looks at her uncertainly, she frowns, "Sleep, Svetlana. You're going to need it for the next few hours."
She yawns once more and slowly obeys, slipping into the sheets of the bed.
A few moments pass before a voice says from the door, "Why didn't you say something?"
Natasha glances at Steve, who is still wearing a dirtied white tank-top, in the doorway.
She doesn't speak for a moment, rubbing the water out of her slowly curling hair, "Why didn't I say something about what?"
Steve gives her a look, nodding towards Svetlana who is already sleeping with her braid sprawled out behind her, "Pieces finally came together," he pauses, "she's your kid."
"Took you long enough," Natasha scowls down at the floor, shaking her head, "I was young."
"And the Winter Soldier," Steve prompts slowly to which Natasha nods and he breathes quietly, "Right."
"Thought I could play against the odds. Turns out the odds played me."
Steve slowly tosses the towel in his hands onto the bathroom counter and then walks over to her. She looks up at him with a flickering gaze as he sits across from her without saying anything. He raises his brows a little, waiting for her to continue. Her eyes stare into his as her lips pull apart just enough for the words to tumble out.
She hesitates before saying in a raspy voice, "I thought she was dead. I went to her grave every chance I got. And she's been..." her eyes flick to the window in demonstration, "Out there. With HYDRA, or, well," she scoffs, "with S.H.I.E.L.D."
Steve patiently waits, allowing her to say what she needs to.
"And when I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D., I thought I was going straight," she nods a little, her gaze falling to the floor, "But I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA," her lips scrunch bitterly before she whispers, "I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but I guess I can't tell the difference anymore."
Steve stares at her and gives a small nod, "There's a chance you might be in the wrong business."
Natasha looks back to him with a small scoff-like laugh. He offers her a sad smile before looking past her to the girl that stays cuddled up in the blankets. He guesses that's where he must have seen the familiarity with Natasha being her mother. He shakes his head a little at his thoughts. No, that's not it. It's the little girl's eyes that haunt him. He's not sure why. Natasha follows his gaze to look at the Svet who looks so peaceful and innocent in sleep.
Natasha tears her gaze from her daughter, nodding at Steve as she whispers, "I owe you. You kept her safe."
Steve shakes his head, looking at the ground before looking back up at her, "It's okay."
"If it was the other way around," her voice cracks, "and it was down to me to save your daughter's life," she dips her chin, "now you be honest with me... would you trust me to do it?"
"I would now," he tells her softly before cracking a small smile, "And I'm always honest."
Natasha pulls back into who she always is, smiling funnily, "Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing."
"Well," he grunts as he leans back, "'Guess I just like to know who I'm fighting."
"I made breakfast," Sam suddenly appears in the door, leaning his arm against the frame, "If you guys... eat that sort of thing."
Steve and Natasha smirk at each other.
Another long one! Yay! Did you like it!? What did you think about all of Natasha's thoughts about if she had gotten away and about being a friend?! And that conversation between her and Svet at the end? My heart! STEVE KNOWS! I love Uncle Steve, okay? Their relationship is SO fun as things progress, especially with Civil War (goodness). And by the way, the plans I have for itty bitty Svet during Infinity War - I'm so excited! She's going to be so much older than our assassin baby thirteen year old right now! She's going to be kicking alien butt with Mom, Dad, Uncle Steve, and (hopefully) Uncle Clint, it's gonna be great! Tell me your thoughts!
And the next chapter, well, I think we all know what's happening *cheering* (ready for Svet and Bucky to be together, but also so many tears). You guys, I have the ending planned and it's gonna hurt - lemme hear your theories!
Vote, COMMENT, and follow! Love ya'll! Sorry again for the later update.
Funny Thingamabob: (in honor of next chapter! AHHHHH!)
What even ???