The Art Show
The daily routine was written out in a nearly identical format to tactical plans Hill would hand out before a mission. The redhead smirked and skimmed through each item from what time Ellie needed to wake up and do her hair (double-check it, she’s still trying to figure out how to get all the curls into a ponytail), and eat breakfast (two waffles, nutritional drink I tell her is chocolate milk, and morning meds), to her after school pick up time (3:15pm Trinity School on the Upper West Side), and bedtime routine (bribe her to brush her teeth with story time after).
She walked back to the child’s room and peeked in, it seemed every time she checked on Ellie, her head was in a different position on the bed. The light-up stickers had long faded as she looked into the room again, finding the child now horizontal on the bed. The door closed with a light click as she walked back into the kitchen.
“Hey,” Yelena yawned as she exited the guest room she had been occupying for the last few hours since her episode.
“Feeling better?” the redhead filled up a glass with water and passed it to her sister.
The blonde hummed, “I took a nap.”
It was a physical rest for a mental battle.
“We had pasta for dinner, there's some in the fridge if you want me to heat it up,” she spoke as she made her way to the leftovers, there was no way Yelena would turn it down.
“I can eat it cold,” the younger woman eyed the Tupperware.
“Suit yourself,” Natasha had learned to pick her fights with the blonde, cold pasta wasn’t on the list.
She leaned back and watched as her sister dug into the food, one knee placed on the stool protectively close to her body. Even after months of being out of the Red Room, there were still so many habits the younger woman had yet to shake.
“What is it,” Yelena said between bites, “you look like you’re going to tell me I forgot to pack underwear.”
“What you did or didn’t pack isn’t my business.”
“So what is it?”
“I talked to Melina,” Natasha sighed.
“Ha,” her sister barked out a laugh, “why?”
“Got word there’s a couple of widows in Romania,” she leaned into the island and checked her phone for any word from Melina or Steve.
“Does she have girls to go free them? Aw man,” Yelena tilted her head back and let out the English term, “am I going to have to miss fashion week?”
“I don’t think so… I don’t know,” the redhead hesitated, she said something about Alina in Ukraine.”
“Alina is scared of her own shadow,” the younger woman huffed, “I’m going to get called in for this.”
“Listen, if you don’t want to go then we’ll tell her you can’t. You get to choose Lenochka,” she rounded the corner of the island and sat next to her sister.
The woman hummed in indifference, clearly feeling differently about it as she ate more pasta.
“Listen, I’ll keep you updated on what I hear and you use it to make your decisions if it comes to that, okay?” she placed a hand on Yelena’s shoulder.
The blonde leaned into the touch a little before nodding, “Okay.”
The rest of the evening was uneventful as Yelena finished eating and went to bed for the rest of the night, still tired from the episode earlier that day. Natasha followed her at first before realizing that she wasn’t fooling anyone and walked back toward the hallway that shared Maria and Ellie’s rooms.
She turned on the light and walked into the room that screamed Maria. But only in the ways that people who really know her would recognize. The neutral-colored walls, the large bed, the clothing, and personal items that were neatly tucked away in the spots where they belonged. Hell, the room even smelled like the brunette still.
Natasha walked over to the dresser, not having to guess exactly where the woman kept her old t-shirts. The top left drawer was almost overflowing with worn cotton and faded logos, the exact material she had been craving. She brought her own toiletries and the rest of her suitcase into the bathroom and got ready for bed, taking the second sink that clearly no one used. Not that it was obvious which one was used, Maria cleaned and put everything away daily.
Natasha finished brushing her teeth and made her way to the large bed in the center of the room, inhaling the scent of the brunette that still clung to the sheets as her phone began to ring.
“You would call as soon as I’m in bed,” she teased as she answered, slipping back into English.
“While I appreciate that you have no shame, even in my bed, I was actually calling to see how the rest of the day went?” Maria snorted.
“Good, I think,” she caught herself, “she’s different from the kids.”
The Barton children rarely sat still, nor did they ever voluntarily read especially at the age that Ellie did.
“We’re still working on getting her out of her shell,” the brunette agreed, “She also just likes to read.”
Natasha hummed and leaned back into the pillows once more, “I think I upset her.”
“I’m positive she will get over it, what happened?”
“I took a look at her cards in her backpack,” she recounted the interaction.
“Why’d she get upset?”
And in Maria’s question, there was an answer. If it wasn’t something that was normal enough to have an explanation, it meant one thing. Ellie still saw Natasha as a madam, as an authority figure from the Red Room they had both worked so hard to escape.
“Not sure,” she lied trying to protect her feelings, “Lena had an episode, might have just been tense. What time does the hearing start?”
She pivoted the conversation and listened as Maria detailed everything that would occur for the next few days and how her (and Stark's) legal team would handle everything. It sounded like they had their work cut out for them, and the hearing hadn’t even started yet.
“Sounds like you should get some rest before then,” Natasha stifled her own yawn.
“Probably,” Maria sounded like she had done the same, “keep me updated with everything, yeah? Send me a million pictures.”
“Of course,” she ran her fingers over the soft sheets, “Thanks for the pajamas by the way.”
“I may or may not have left the softest t-shirts on top for you,” the brunette rushed out, Natasha could practically hear the blush on her face.
“Oh trust me, Ria, I noticed when I slipped it on,” she chuckled.
There was a few seconds of pause before Maria spoke again, this time her voice softer, deeper, “It’s the only thing you have on isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” the Russian smirked.
“I did say to send a million pictures.”
It was day 3 of Natasha watching Ellie when her art show rolled around, they had made sure her uniform was ironed the night before and decided on tried and true braids for the event the night before. Still, the girl was nervous as the redhead dropped her off that morning even after she confirmed that she would be there for the event that afternoon.
Natasha had hoped that some of the worries had dissipated from the girl throughout the day as she approached the front doors of the building.
The school smelled like fresh paint and polished wood as Natasha walked through the halls. She didn’t know a lot about American schools but from what she could remember from her time in Ohio, they were never like this. No, this private school clearly was top of the line and full of children with important parents. She had caught the face of a few political figures as she got closer and closer to the gallery (something she was positive they didn’t have at other schools).
She finally reached the sign-in desk and scanned the page for her name tag. She searched the “N’s” first but after failing to find the one with “Natasha or Natalia” she looked in the “T’s” and found a “Tasha R.” just for her. The other parents picked up small hor d'erves but the Russian bypassed, making her way over to the 2nd-grade section as quickly as she could.
Ellie had wide eyes full of worry as she stood next to her three pieces of art, a lopsided grin crossing her face as she made eye contact with Natasha.
“Hey,” she smiled as she approached, unable to help herself from smoothing a braid on the girl’s head she had done that morning.
“Hi,” Ellie’s voice was barely audible over the hum of the crowd.
“Yelena is going to come in just a few minutes but um,” she cleared her throat, “I’d be happy to hear about your pieces now. If you want to tell me about them.”
The girl nodded very seriously and raised an arm to show off one of the first drawings titled “Scott”
“This,” Ellie swallowed and tried to speak louder, “this is my drawing of Scott who I had in the summer. It is mixed media of pencil and marker.”
It was better than what Natasha had expected, she could clearly make out the image of a glass jar and a butterfly inside. Ellie spoke as if she had practiced her words multiple times.
“This,” the girl pointed to a shelf where an oblong item sat, “it is vase for my clay project.”
The vase was small and thin, most likely only able to fit one or two flowers, still, Natasha smiled and nodded along as the little girl spoke about the art piece titled “Hold”.
“My final piece,” the girl held up her arm once more to show a long piece of paper, “acrylic on parchment.”
Natasha got closer to the painting, her eyes widening as she took everything in. It was a painting done by a 6-year-old, that much was obvious, but she could pick out every person in the picture.
There were Ellie and Maria in the center of the paper, followed by the Barton family, then her friend whose parents were SHIELD agents. She smiled as she took in the sight of a blonde and a redhead clearly representative of herself and Yelena. There were paintings of Coulson, and Fury and a young woman in the background who Natasha could only assume was the widow Ellie had grown up with.
She took a step back and smiled as she read the title of the painting “Family.”
“Elizaveta, these are all amazing,” she was sincere as she spoke to the girl who beamed, “You are quite the artist.”
“Thank you and your critique,” the child bowed her head.
Natasha once again found herself smiling as she looked around at the other students' art pieces. In her humble (correct) opinion, none of the others even came close to the art Ellie had made.
“Are all of the students over here in your class?” She asked the girl.
“This side, it is my class,” Ellie pointed to the row she was in, “That side, it is Mr. Brock’s class.”
The redhead hummed as she took in the information, looking at the other students and the parents who fawned over them.
“Do you like to hang out with any of the kids here?”
It was a tense pause as Ellie became fascinated with her shoes, squinting and turning her head to the side before looking up at Natasha and signing <Don’t know>
<Have you tried playing> Natasha signed back.
<They play games I don’t know> The child dropped her hand from her forehead.
The kids around them looked nice, if not a little papered, but clearly Ellie was the odd one out. The other kids had at least 2 parents and a nanny or older sibling around them, all dressed impeccably in their uniforms. Ellie had her art, and Natasha.
<Still early, you will make friends> She nodded at the girl who once again focused on her shoes.
“Lizochka!” Yelena’s voice carried from where she stood a few displays away, “Such an artist, you get that from me you know.”
Ellie giggled airy, and bright as the blonde walked over in shock of how good the art pieces were.
“Please, Artist, tell me all about them,” Yelena placed her chin on her fist as she listened to the child.
“This is my drawing of Scott who I had in the summer. It is mixed media of pencil and marker.”
Ellie began the rehearsed part of her showcase, arm movements and all.
“This,” the girl pointed to the shelf and vase again, “it is vase for my clay project.”
“My final piece,” the girl held up her arm and pointed to her last piece, “acrylic on parchment.”
“Hmmm, yes, I’ll take it. What is the starting bid?” Yelena played the art dealer role well, Natasha wondered if she had ever actually used it during a mission.
“I’ll double her bid, no wait, triple it,” Tony walked up, taking everyone by surprise.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Natasha nudged the man from where she stood.
“What can I say, I dabble in fine art curation,” he rolled his eyes, “Plus, I got the details from this one when she picked out her new shoes for the event. Which you look fabulous in by the way.”
Ellie once again bowed her head, “Thank you and your critique.”
All of the adults paused at the statement before smiling and encouraging the young artist to tell them about each piece.
“Okay, go ahead and stand in front of your art,” Natasha pulled out her phone, “Ria will kill me if I don’t get a picture.”
Ellie stood in the middle of all three pieces, hands balled into fits at her side and she smiled. It was one of the first times Natasha really looked at the girl. She had put on weight since Maria had taken her in almost a year prior, her face no longer gaunt, she was slightly taller, and missing teeth as she beamed. From a distance, she looked like any other 6-year-old, but there were still light scars on her tan skin, her eyes darted around the room, and she was by far the smallest in her class. There were aspects of the Red Room that would forever be ingrained in the child.
“Woah, you're Iron Man!” A little boy pulled Natasha out of the moment.
The statement was loud enough to get the attention of others nearby and soon there were too many sets of eyes on the group.
“Hey buddy,” Tony stuck out his fist, receiving an explosive tap back.
“Can you come see my art?” one kid called out.
“Yeah, and mine!” a little girl followed.
The crowd grew thicker and thicker as both children and adults became enamored by the Iron Man.
“Ya know, I’m actually on my way out,” Stark began to back up, his breathing quickening.
“Please just mine!”
“My kid would love to meet you, I actually am an engineer myself.”
Most of the art show was now starting to move towards them. Natasha looked for the exit as she found a little hand worm its way into hers. She glanced down to find a wide-eyed Ellie staring back up at her.
“Go,” she tapped Yelena’s hip. It was all the blonde needed to dip out of the gallery.
“Sorry everyone, I need to head back and do Uh,” Tony raised his hands, “Iron Man stuff.”
Natasha followed the small path the man started to create, stopping as Ellie ran into a number of adult legs. The redhead paused before signing to the child <up?>
It took less than a second for Ellie to open her arms, waiting to be picked up. It was slightly tense at first before the brunette rested her chin on the Russian’s shoulder as they continued to walk. Natasha wasn’t nearly as tall as Maria but still, the little girl seemed to enjoy the change of scenery. Or at least that’s what she assumed as the child relaxed into her side.
“What can I say, life of a star,” Stark sighed as soon as he got out of the school.
She knew better, knew that he used humor to cope with the anxiety that radiated off of him.
“Wouldn’t know,” Natasha shook her head.
“Sorry we had to leave early Elephant,” he frowned at the girl who shrugged, “See you back at the tower?”
“Maybe,” it was now the redhead's turn to shrug.
She watched as the billionaire got into the driver's side of a sports car that suddenly pulled up. She and Ellie watched as it drove away quickly, echoing in the streets as it did so. Logically, Natasha knew she could put the little girl down, yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to loosen her grip.
“Want to go somewhere special?” she asked the girl in her arms.
“Yes,” Ellie whispered back in her ear.
“Good, we can’t just let those fancy shoes go to waste.”
Lena: Safe, see you at the apartment later!
With her sister’s safety confirmed, the Russians made their way down the fading light of the city, twisting and turning down streets until the smell of food became stronger. Ellie whipped her head around as she recognized the scent.
“Piroshki,” she caught Ellie whispering to herself.
Natasha smirked as she rounded the final corner and approached the tiny restaurant. It had been one of the places she had visited the most frequently when she first defected. While she had only had the dish a handful of times on missions in her youth, the constant chatter of Russian and smells of the restaurant calmed her.
“Ah my Natasha!” the babushka that owned the restaurant and worked in the kitchen beamed as she walked through the door, “And this?”
It had been years since she had visited the store and Ellie was small enough to pass for a younger age. She chuckled and shook her head.
“No, no, she’s-” the woman paused, unsure of how to explain that Ellie was the adoptive daughter of the woman she was kind of seeing, who just so happened to also speak Russian.
No matter what Natasha would have said, the elderly woman would have ignored in her fever to see the little girl on her hip.
“You haven’t been around for so long, you really need to come and visit more, you know that I will always feed you!” the woman spoke quickly before directing her conversation to Ellie, “She knows this, she knows that I will always feed her. We have to put some meat on your bones as well.”
The woman pinched Ellie’s cheek much to the girl's amusement.
“For her, cheese and mushroom,” she looked at Natasha to confirm, “and for you?”
The girl was quiet for a moment, the redhead worried that she would have to guess what Ellie’s favorite would be.
“Egg and onion?” it left the child’s lips as a hopeful question.
“Yes, yes, of course, let me get them for you.” The babushka left in a hurry back to her kitchen, speaking quickly to those inside.
The curly-haired girl smiled and looked around the restaurant. It was later in the evening, the small space only holding one other patron who drank a cup of something warm from his spot by the door. Natasha took them to the booth in the corner she occupied almost every time she visited.
“The piroshki here are some of the best I’ve had,” Natasha deposited the girl in the far seat and took the one across from her.
<Excited> Ellie moved her fingers and looked at the art that adorned the walls.
Natasha took the time to send Maria the images she had taken of Ellie at her art show, sneaking in one more of the little girl as she sat in the booth, waiting for the food to arrive.
Tasha: <5 img.> Art show was a success (other than Iron Man spotting). Going out for celebratory dinner.
She looked back at Ellie who had her eyes trained on the kitchen door as soon as it opened. The child sat up quickly, moving to her knees, ankles crossed in the back as she waited for the food to be placed in front of her.
“Thank you,” Ellie smiled up at the elderly woman who patted her on the head as she walked back to the kitchen.
“Careful,” Natasha warned as Ellie reached for one of the hot buns, “here.”
Her hands were callused and worn, not able to feel as much heat as she broke each of the buns open and let them cool. There was a small mountain of piroshki in front of her, more than enough to feed them both and have leftovers for Yelena who would have thrown a fit if she found out they got them without her.
The curly-haired girl waited impatiently for the food, reaching out and testing the temperature of the dough multiple times before she finally bit into one. Ellie leaned back and smiled as her cheeks filled, savoring the first bite.
Ria: Thank you, wish I was there, going into hour 9 of hearings. Tell Ellie I’m so proud of her and will see her soon.
“Ria says she’s proud of you and she’ll see you soon,” Natasha looked up to the girl who was finishing up her first bun and moving on to her second.
“Okay,” she took another bite, her focus solely on the food.
The redhead smirked and put her phone away, following the child into eating the piroshki. The two continued to eat until they were full, or so Natasha thought.
“I thought you would need a box, and maybe this,” the owner set the to-go box down and produced a slice of cake.
“Medovik” Ellie’s eyes grew wide as the slice of dessert was placed in front of her.
“Made this morning, I was hoping to have a good reason to share it,” the woman stooped down slightly to talk to the girl, “you see me before you leave.”
“Of course,” Natasha inclined her head.
“Thank you!” Ellie called out in a voice louder than it had ever been as she grabbed a fork and stuck it into the cake, pausing slightly and offering the first bite to the woman across from her.
“No no, you go ahead,” the older widow smiled and moved the plate back across the table, boxing up the extra food as she did so.
It was the only invitation the girl needed as she took bite after bite of the sweet food. Natasha worried that she might have let the girl overdo it by the time she was done. Ellie leaned back in the booth and let out a long sigh.
<done> the redhead asked, the girl nodded in return.
She knew the owner wouldn’t let her pay, she never did. But still, she left behind enough money to cover the cost, and then some. She wasn’t short on funds and wouldn’t let her Red Room training go to waste as she hid the money just enough to not get chased with it as she left.
“We’re on our way,” she spoke as the two passed by the kitchen.
The woman emerged, whipped her hands on her apron, and bent down slightly to hug Ellie who gave a brief hug back.
“Thank you, I really enjoyed each item,” the girl was sincere as she spoke.
“You’re welcome, you come and visit whenever you want,” the babushka offered before bringing Natasha into a tight embrace.
“Thank you,” Natasha said softly.
“She has your eyes,” the woman whispered in her ear.
Ellie twirled slightly in her uniform before looking up at both adults, blinking her big green eyes at them.
“You come back, okay?”
“Okay,” the child nodded and left the restaurant.
They continued down the busy streets of New York in the fall weather, Ellie taking it all in as they made their way back to the tower. Back home.
Of course, it wouldn't be home without a little drama which was exactly what they found when they opened the front door and found Yelena rolling her eyes as Tony stood in front of her.
"I'm not going to synthesize something I don't know," the brunette shook his head.
"I have told you, I do not need you to synthesize, just create a tube for administration," Yelena rolled her eyes again.
Natasha knew that the current device they were using had occasional problems, mainly that it wouldn't fire when the release mechanism was depressed. Meaning there were times when they had an opening, but still were unable to free widows because the antidote hadn't made it to their bloodstream.
"How do I know it's not something terrible that you're administering? Could be poison."
"It is not poison, now can you make one?"
"It's not if I can, I can, I'm brilliant." Tony clarified as Natasha scoffed, catching both occupants of the apartment's attention.
"When'd you two get here?" the man turned around quickly.
"Natalia tell him I am not administering poison," Yelena used her presence as a newfound opportunity to get what she wanted.
"She's not administering poison."
Ellie snickered.
"Then what is it?" he pressed.
The sisters exchanged glances before the blonde finally sighed and waved her hand, and so it was up to Natasha to decide what to do. Keep the operation a secret where it was safe, or bring another person in. One that might be able to help. Help people just like the little girl next to her had been helped. Like the blonde across from her had been helped.
"What do you know about the Red Room?"