it's sweet and it's sad and it's true
Mischa hadn’t gone back to Phoebe’s apartment since her run-in with Melina a few days ago. Phoebe had been understanding when Mischa called, telling her to enjoy her time with her sisters and when they departed, Phoebe said, “I love you,” just as she always did.
Only this time, instead of bringing warmth flooding through her, Mischa felt guilty.
Her sisters notice the change in her behavior and how she gravitated toward Yelena. Mischa wanted the reassurance of her mom at the moment. But Yelena had seven kids and Mischa wasn’t always the priority.
She mopes in her bed as she debated about what to do. She didn’t even know how to start the conversation with Phoebe. Her biggest fear was that she would come clean and Phoebe would not only be upset or angry but that she would yell and get physical.
A few days after her interaction with Melina, Mischa heard the telltale steps of Varvara slipping through the bedroom door to the room that she shared with Irina and Ksenia as they slept. Mischa thought that Varvara was there for Ksenia or Irina, kicked out of her own bed because Daria stole the sheets or Varvara had a nightmare and their mom’s bed was already full.
To Mischa’s surprise, Varvara heads right toward her, gently hitting Mischa’s chest. “Budge over,” Varvara demanded and Mischa let out a sigh as she scooted over to make room for her little sister.
Varvara flops into the now empty space and she holds her hand up, revealing a handful of Mischa’s favorite candy, licorice ropes. Mischa smiled slightly, reaching up to pull one free.
“I dunno why you’re all mopey, Ma won’t tell me, but I just want you to know that if someone is bothering you then I’ll stab them for ya,” Varvara was being genuine, looking up at her earnestly as she bit off a piece from one of the licorice ropes.
Mischa couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the offer. “Thank you but I don’t think this is a problem that you can solve with stabbing.”
“What kinda problem is it then?” Varvara eyed her curiously before she scowled. “Is this about the talk you had with Melina?”
Varvara was sharing a bed with Yelena when Mischa came crawling into their bed as soon as she got home. Varvara had seen her crying and Mischa hated it because she was their big sister and she didn’t want them to see her like that. But Varvara knew that Melina had said or done something to seriously shake her up.
“Yeah,” Mischa chewed on the end of her piece of candy. She watched as her younger sister sucked on the end of the candy rather than bite it. “She talked about Phoebe.”
Varvara paused, peering up at Mischa cautiously. “Did she threaten her?” She asked. “Because if she did then I’ll go stab her for you, free of charge.”
Varvara may be good but even Mischa knew that going up in a fight against a Widow who cycled through the Red Room four times was not a fight that her eighteen-year-old sister was going to win. “She didn’t threaten her. She heard that I was a lesbian.”
Her younger sister was eyeing her now, reading between the lines. “She didn’t use that word.”
“No.” Mischa had been called plenty of things before but she had never been called that slur. “She told me that I had to come clean to Phoebe.”
Varvara frowned. “About what?” She questioned.
“My past,” Mischa focused on taking another bite of her licorice rope to gather her thoughts.
“You don’t have to tell nobody nothin’,” Varvara stated firmly, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at Mischa. “Your past is your past and you don’t owe it to anybody.”
“I owe it to her,” Mischa said quietly, feeling Varvara’s eyes stare at her face. Mischa instead stared at the posters on the wall. “I love her, Vars. She deserves to know who she’s actually dating. It’s her choice to make.”
“Well, what if she picks wrong?” Varvara demanded and Mischa squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of Phoebe rejecting her. “Shit-- wait no, don’t cry, Mia.”
“I’m not crying!” Mischa snapped slightly, guilt smacking her when Varvara gave a tiny flinch. Mischa shoved the remainder of her licorice rope into her mouth so that she can dig the heels of her palms into her eyes in an attempt to stifle the tears. “I’m sorry.”
Varvara moved her arm with a quick jerk just like she did sometimes to check and see if she was still in control before she ran her fingers over Mischa’s hair to comfort her.
Mischa jumped when the edge of the bed dipped down as someone else joined them moments later and she looked up to see Irina was there. Irina shouldn’t have heard anything and should have been sleeping peacefully but Mischa took one look at her bed and saw that Varvara had thrown the remainder of the licorice ropes in her hand at Irina to wake her up.
Irina slides her arms under Mischa’s knees and around her back, hoisting her up into her arms.
“Put me down, I’m not a baby!” Mischa squirmed in her grip as Irina claimed the spot that Mischa was moments before, sitting and setting Mischa down in her lap.
“Baby,” Irina mouths at her with a soft teasing grin as she cradled Mischa against her, her thumb brushing away a tear that slid past her defenses. “Baby sister.”
“I’m three years younger than you, Irina. Not a baby,” Mischa grumbled but she does lean into her big sister. Varvara scooted closer, her knees bumping against Mischa’s feet as she leaned against Irina.
“You’re Ma’s baby,” Varvara commented and Mischa glared at her. “What? It’s true! We’re all Ma’s babies.”
“You’re mom’s baby. So are Ksenia and Daria,” Mischa corrected and Varvara stuck her tongue out at her. “That’s why you’re the baby.”
“I like being Ma’s baby,” Varvara snapped at Mischa, folding her arms with a huff. “I never got to be anyone’s baby before.”
Mischa hadn’t meant to provoke Varvara that way. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Varvara ducked her head down with a scowl. “Then how did you mean it?”
Irina was watching them, her eyes flickering back and forth as she tried to follow the conversation by the glow of the nightlight nearby.
Mischa sighed, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing,” she admits.
“What?” Varvara questioned, baffled at the abrupt change in subject.
“Going out, getting a girlfriend, dating, settling down… I’m only a year older than you, Vars. You aren’t interested in doing any of that stuff,” Mischa pointed out. “Maybe I’m not ready yet. Maybe this whole thing with Phoebe just wasn’t meant to be.”
Mischa winced when Irina’s finger flicked her ear. “What was that for!”
Irina told her to stop second-guessing herself. Mischa was happy with Phoebe, that’s all that any of them wanted.
“I know that I’m like a big kid a lot of the time but we’re not the same,” Varvara ran a hand through her hair as she peered up at Mischa. “I’m not… I’m not ready for what my older sisters are. I don’t want the same things that you do. I don’t wanna date or get married or any of that stuff. You do.”
Irina moved one of her arms to sling it around Varvara’s shoulder and tug her against her side.
“Look, if you think that telling Phoebe about everything is a good idea then I’ve got your back,” Varvara starts, Irina nodding, “but if she’s anything like the person we met then she should make the right choice.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” Mischa mumbled, sinking into Irina’s hold. “How am I going to explain everything when I don’t even know what I need to say.”
Irina suggests that she starts with Aunt Nat, The Black Widow. Breaking it down from there would be easier. Irina then asked Mischa if she wants company while she tells Phoebe. As much as Mischa would, she knew that it would only cause problems if Phoebe was to react negatively, god forbid Varvara follows up on her stabbing promise.
Irina told her that she knew that Mischa would do what was right. If Mischa couldn’t do it and backed out then there was nothing wrong with that, Irina was firm that she understood that.
It’s a tight fit for the three of them on the bed but Irina and Varvara don’t seem particularly inclined to go back to their own so Mischa ends up curled around Varvara who was happily sandwiched between her older sisters.
“I don’t mind it,” Mischa started as they were settling down, Irina’s hand petting her hair.
“Mind what?” Varvara peered up at her with a frown.
“Being mom’s baby,” Mischa clarified. She liked the way that Yelena looked after them. She liked Yelena being her mom, even if she got overprotective or smothering. Mischa liked having a mom in general, she can’t remember anyone else even coming close to filling the role that Yelena did. “It’s nice.”
Being cared for was a nice feeling. Mischa remembered thinking that she had to earn affection and that Yelena would only hold her if she was having meltdowns or crying. She would work herself up to the point of tears just so Yelena would hold her.
Mischa had her moments when she indulged in the child side of her that was just curious and wanted cuddles. She didn’t get the chance to grow and develop as normal children did, she didn’t get to have a childhood. She grew up in violence and bloodshed, she seduced dozens of people and killed even more.
She wanted things to go okay with Phoebe. They went okay after their last big talk, she just hoped that it would go alright this time as well.
Mischa left the next day with a reminder from Irina scrawled onto a sticky note.
Be who you are, and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind
With the note tucked firmly in her pocket, Mischa walked in through the door of the apartment she shared with Phoebe. Phoebe tackled her in a hug with a laugh, peppering kisses to her face as she greeted her.
Mischa waits until later that night, not wanting to interrupt the moment. She waited until they were getting ready for bed and finally spoke up, “Phee, can we talk?”
Phoebe spun around from where she was digging through her dresser for a pajama shirt. “Yeah. What’s up?”
Mischa took a deep breath to try and abate the anxiety coursing through her. “I have something that I want to tell you…”