Chapter 4
Ana admired her reflection in the mirror: her hair had never been done so elegantly before, in an intricately braided bun, her body clad in the most beautiful pale blue dress she’d ever seen. A distant memory tugged at her. She’d had a dress just like this, on that mission in DC. It was practically identical, down to the tiny twist in the hem, technically a flaw but something she had liked in it, proof that nothing is ever truly perfect. But it couldn’t be the same dress; that dress was ruined, a bloody mess. The senator had bled like a stuck pig when she cut his throat.
"It's time, darling!" came Lilli's voice. Ana turned and watched as the blonde woman approached. She frowned. Lilli was wearing a blush-pink dress. Ana despised pink, Lilli knew that.
"Nik, come look! Ana is so beautiful!" A few moments later, Nik stepped into the room, darkly handsome in a tuxedo. She smiled fondly as he tugged at the collar.
"Damned monkey suit," he muttered.
"You need to look nice for Ana's big day!" Lilli scolded him as she readjusted his tie. Ana couldn't help but notice the flashy diamond engagement ring on Lilli's finger. She fought to keep her expression neutral; both Lilli and Nik had expressed to her before that they would never get married.
Once his tie was fixed, Ana took Nik's arm, allowing him to lead her out of the dressing room. Curious, she peeked out into the chapel, trying her best to see who was attending. She frowned as a man that looked like Christian Ward smiled at her.
Nik didn't seem to notice."You really do look beautiful. He's going to be speechless," he whispered in her ear.
“Who's going to be speechless?” Ana blinked, her attention returning to her twin instantly, brow furrowing in confusion. Nik laughed, patting her hand.
“Cute, Ana. Don’t tell me the cold feet have finally arrived? It’s a bit late to back out now, nebol'shoy popugay.”
“I don’t…” She blinked, looking around the chapel and then at her dress. “Oh… I… I’m getting married, aren’t I?”
“You’ve only been talking about it for months. Come on, it’s about to start.” Nik moved forward, so quickly that Ana stumbled. Music started to play, familiar music; she couldn’t place the instrument, but it sounded almost like someone humming.
“Nik, I don’t feel well. Let me go…” Nik only smiled down at her, affection sloppily painted over something harder in his features, something she couldn’t place. Something Nik had surely never aimed at her.
“Too late for that now. Come on, he’s waiting.”
Ana wanted to ask who was waiting, but she didn't need to. Her eyes widened as she came to a stop beside him, using all of her willpower to keep from shaking.
"You look beautiful, baby," Ward murmured in her ear; she felt filthy as he took her hands. Mock-tenderness barely masked something much darker in his eyes. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but one look at Nik told her she wouldn't make it the doors. She was trapped.
As if that wasn't enough, she had to look down. The dress wasn't beautiful and pristine anymore; it was barely even a dress, blood staining the fabric. Her eyes turned to the guests, and to her horror she realized every single person in attendance had been one of her unlucky victims.
Ana's eyes flew open, her upper body bolting upright. The quilt crumpled between her clenched fingers as her eyes darted around, panting. It’s okay. I'm okay. It was just a dream. Ana shivered, checking her left hand. For a moment, the dream had felt like a sick reality.
After a few moments she summoned the strength to rise, palm flat against the wall as she made her way down into the kitchen. Maybe a glass of water would clear her head.
Still dazed from the terror in her dream, her senses were dampened. She was almost to the sink when someone cleared their throat. Ana spun, grasping for her weapons, a knife, anything– then she remembered that her hosts had taken all her weapons away.
"I don't sleep well either," the Winter Soldier said. She positioned herself so that she could fill her glass while having an eye on the man, staying silent.
The Soldier shrugged, inching around her towards the coffee pot. Ana raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure caffeine doesn't help," she finally said, allowing a hint of amusement to creep into her voice.
He grinned, a peculiar expression on the his hard face – but one that achingly reminded her of Nik. His absence felt like a gaping void inside her soul, even though it had been less than a day. "Doesn't affect me,” the Soldier replied, “but I like the taste. Want some?"
Ana mustered a smile, strangely hard-pressed to keep the mask of indifference up. "No thanks. I'm more of a vodka kind of girl," she said, sipping at her water.
The Soldier snorted, arching an eyebrow after giving her a brief once-over. "Are you even old enough to drink?"
Well, both my parents are infamous super-soldiers, didn’t you know? She fought to keep her face neutral, and instead leaned back against the counter and murmured: "When you're raised Russian, you build up your tolerance early."
He paused, mug almost to his lips, before barking out a laugh and shaking his head. "Natalia's daughter, indeed." He hesitated a moment, then: "She has some of the good stuff in the freezer. If you want."
Ana cocked her head, considering. "I doubt she'd take kindly to that."
He shrugged, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Suit yourself. Want to talk? Up to you. I can leave you alone, if you'd rather. But – since you're apparently my daughter, I guess I should try and be...a father. Listen to your problems or something."
Ana laughed, a bitter note she couldn’t suppress threading through it. "Too many problems for one night," she said, sitting down across from him.
"You could start with just one. Whatever's got you down here in the middle of the night, perhaps?" He seemed to think about that for a moment. "Or not. Something else, if that's too much."
Ana snorted. "Oh, have they been re-training you as a therapist?"
He smiled that Nik smile again that made her heart ache. "You spend enough time with the shrinks, you pick up a few of their techniques."
Ana released a heavy sigh. "I dreamed...I was getting married. Which is ridiculous. What would be the point? I'd never marry him, anyways."
"Him?" The Soldier raised his eyebrows, expression one of curiousity.
"My trainer," she answered.
“Kind of an odd choice for your dreams to come up with, kid. Had a crush on him or something?”
She made a dismissive noise. “No. It’s only because of what he taught me.”
He blinked. “...I don’t follow?”
“Seduction,” she said, shrugging. “Manipulation. Sex. How to adapt to what people want, how to get inside their minds. That’s what I’m meant f–”
Her eyes darted to his metal hand as it formed a fist, gears whirring and clicking. The rest of the words were caught in her throat as a stab of fear shot through her with those sounds.
Sensing her fear, the Soldier stilled his movements, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You’re scared of him." It wasn’t a question.
"I'm scared of you," she shot back. It was hard enough believing he wasn't here to kill her; something in her rebelled entirely at telling him all her fears and secrets.
Bucky watched her for a moment before finally: "I know it's going to be impossible to make you believe right now, but I seriously doubt I could ever bring myself to hurt you."
Tears stung her eyes abruptly, spilling onto her cheeks before she could dash them away, and Ana cursed herself inwardly. Weak. Why must I be so weak? Stupid Sokovian whore broke me. "Knowing it's just conditioning doesn't make it go away," she snarled.
"It takes time, and work," the Soldier said. He started to reach out with his flesh hand but stopped, letting it drop softly to the table. "Steve said that you told him to call you the Grand Duchess. You have a real name?" His blue eyes searched hers, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. Of course he already knew; her full name was in the file. At least he does the kindness of asking.
She swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "Call me Anastasia."
"Only if you call me Bucky." He pushed back from the table. “Here, I’m gettin’ more coffee, you want another glass of water?” Ana nodded and held out her glass. She didn’t have a smile in her, not now, but she offered him a tired but pleasant expression as he took it.
Outside the kitchen door, Natasha let her head fall back against the wall, careful not to make a sound. Her eyes were glassy, but she would not let the tears fall.
They’d argued, she and Barnes, over who should be the one to go in. It could only be one of them. Both would have spooked Ana for sure.
In the end, Bucky won by saying simply that he looked enough like her brother to make her feel a bit more comfortable, if anything would. All of them could see that Ana wasn’t functioning well in Nik’s absence. Wanda and Pietro understood, had agreed with Bucky, and so Natasha had given in.
It hurt, though. It hurt to stand silently outside the door and listen, when all she wanted was to barge in, pull the daughter she’d never known into her arms and hold her tight, promise that Mama would never let anybody hurt her again.
Translations - Russian
nebol'shoy popugay = lovebird