Chapter Twenty-Eight
"Mama?" The raven-haired child stroked her cat's fur from her place on the bed, watching as her mother packed up some of their things. They were leaving to go and break everyone out of the Raft. Steve finally got ahold of a location and they planned everything the night before after she had been sent to bed. "Can I ask you something?"
She had been so excited to see her cat safe and sound back at Melina's place. She was so afraid that maybe she had run away or gotten hurt somehow.
But Mischief was a smart cat, and Natasha said that animals knew what to do in times of crisis. Their instincts always kicked in.
"You can ask me anything, you know that." Natasha cupped her chin before continuing to fold clothes to put into her duffle bag.
It had been two weeks since she and her family had taken down the Red Room, she was so glad that all of her daughter's injuries were nearly healed. Her ankle and her wrist no longer hurt and her bruises were barely visible now.
It was those emotional injuries she was worried about.
"My papa named me, 'Alyona'." The little girl opened the conversation. "Mommy said it was because I was something light in the dark, Red Room."
She couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened a couple weeks ago. She had learned so much about Natasha and herself.
"You have a beautiful name. She loved you very much."
"Is it okay, if I go by my real name?"
"For her?"
"Yeah."
"I would love for you to go by your name…Alya." The redhead smiled at the girl. "Now go and pack. Don't forget George."
"I won't!"
She was going to miss the little home they made in Norway. It was nice, quiet, and out of the way. She loved it when it was just the two of them, but their friends needed her.
Maybe they'd make a new home somewhere, that was just as nice, if not better than the last.
"What're you doing?" Alya asked, looking at a box of hair dye her mother was holding, leaning on the sink. "Are you dyeing your hair?"
"Yes, I am." Natasha ruffled her hair. "Uncle Steve and I are breaking everyone out soon, remember? I can't be recognized."
Her bright red hair wasn't very inconspicuous, Alya could admit that. It would be easy for someone to spot her just by that alone.
"Oh." She picked up the pair of shears sitting on the counter. "Are you cutting it, too?"
"Sure am." The soon to be former redhead showed her exactly how short she wanted it.
"Wow, that's short." Alya whistled and failed at the attempt. "Can I dye my hair, too?"
She always had this desire to dye her hair a completely different color than what it already was. Natasha always said no, but she held out on the hope that one day her mother would change her mind.
"We've had this conversation before." Natasha sang, tapping her nose. "The answer is still no."
"No fair." The child crossed her arms, dragging her feet as she sulked over to the couch. "You always get to do fun things and I don't."
"Um, excuse me, Little Miss. Come back over here." Natasha crooked a finger at her. Alya never caught an attitude with her before. Something was bothering her.
She didn't really have the time to weasel it out of her, but with what little time she did have, she could try.
Alya pouted, but did as she was told, making sure her mother knew she wasn't happy about it. Her boots stomped right back to the kitchen area and a little huff of a brewing meltdown escaped her mouth.
"Put the pout away, please." Natasha tapped her bottom lip. "Thank you. What was that about?"
"I wanna dye my hair, too." She whined.
"I can't hear you when you whine like that. I'm sorry."
Alya, once again, stomped her feet very petulantly and threw her head back before looking at her mother. "Mamaaaa."
"Mischief, do you hear that?" The woman pet under the feline's chin. Mischief had taken advantage of the fact that Natasha was distracted and hopped up on the counter, curious to see what was going on.
She simply purred in response, loving the attention that her silly owner wasn't getting. The more Alya acted like this, the more scratches she'd get.
She was enjoying herself, but when the girl plopped down onto the floor with tears in her eyes, she began to feel kind of bad for her. She had no idea what it was that set her off or what she wanted and wasn't getting, but she felt bad.
Alya was spoiled rotten, but she liked to see her happy.
Much to Alya's annoyance, Natasha didn't pay her any attention. She just snipped away at her long red locks, allowing them to flutter away from her.
Mischief was momentarily distracted and hopped off the counter to play with the falling strands as if they were pieces of yarn. But she soon remembered her friend and nudged her arm with her head to cheer her up.
"Get off of the floor, please." Natasha spared the girl a glance.
She really wanted to avoid an all out tantrum from her, but it looked like that wasn't going to be possible. Alya was upset and she was going to let her know it.
"Mamaaaa." The child tugged on one of the legs of her jeans.
Why wasn't her mother listening to her? She was upset!
"Do you need a nap?" Natasha stopped what she was doing to ask.
There was something that was deeply troubling Alya and she just wished that she'd open up her mouth and tell her instead of making her play this guessing game.
What happened to her after they were separated? Why wouldn't she say anything about it?
This upset had nothing to do with hair dye. All she had to do was talk to her mother and they would figure it out together.
Alya sniveled in frustration, her emotions getting the best of her. Of course she didn't need a nap.
She wasn't a baby.
"Words, please. Or you can go to your room and do that there."
"No." She used the sleeve of her olive green pullover to wipe her wet face, but it was pretty useless as more tears kept coming right after. They wouldn't stop. "I'm not tired."
"Then why are you on the ground, hm?"
Alya offered no response. She just sat there, back to the cabinets, legs stretched out in front of her.
She couldn't answer exactly why she was crying on the floor, all she knew was, she was unbelievably miserable.
"Okay." Natasha decided to approach this a different way. "I can see that you're very upset with me right now, correct?" She questioned, squatting down so that she was no longer towering over her.
"Y-Yes." Came cute little hiccups.
No matter how this kid behaved, it was nearly impossible for her mother to stay upset with her. She always did something so adorable that made her want to pull her into her arms and never let go.
"It made you a little angry when I said 'no'?"
"Y-Yes."
"But I bet you're not really upset about not being able to dye your hair, are you?"
Alya coughed as she began to sob freely and shook her head.
"Words, please." Natasha reached out and momentarily cupped her cheek, though it did absolutely nothing to soothe her.
"N-Noooo."
"Those are really big feelings you're having, aren't they?"
Alya's head bobbed up and down as sobs racked her body. Natasha's heart went out to her, she was obviously overwhelmed and exhausted. This was just her way of letting Natasha know that she needed her right now.
"I'm sorry you're not feeling your best." She moved her hand down to rub her arm.
Alya's slender fingers reached up to grab a few locks of hair and pull on them. She wasn't concerned much about the pain, she just wanted that icky feeling in her body to go away.
With every tug, she thought about a widow she had defeated. She thought about the looks on their faces right before she...before she...
"My mama's probably looking for me." Ksenia nibbled on her piece of bread, wanting to savor it because she didn't know where her next meal would come from.
"How do you know?" Alya asked, eyeing the handcuffs that were keeping Ksenia attached to her metal bed frame so she couldn't escape.
"I just know." Ksenia spoke with confidence and that was good enough for Alya. "She's gonna get me out of here and we'll take you, too. You'll see."
Alya nodded. She wanted to believe that was true, but she couldn't. Even at four she was pragmatic. But she wouldn't burst Ksenia's bubble, hope was all she had.
"Promise me, we'll always be friends?"
"I promise."
"Hey. Hey!" Her mother sprung into action, prying her hands away so she couldn't hurt herself. "Don't do that. That's not nice."
It took a lot to get the girl's hands to untangle from her hair. She had a pretty good grip. Natasha was actually shocked by how hard it had been to get her to let go.
Tears mixed in with snot as the little girl continued to cry and at this rate, she would be inconsolable very soon.
"I'm sorry, that you're frustrated, sweet girl."
Alya sobbed and furiously rubbed at her eyes, her chest heaving up and down to keep up with her sharp intakes of breath. "M-Mamaaaaa."
Honestly, Natasha had been waiting for something like this to happen. Alya had never really properly grieved Katya since that day, and she refused to speak about anything she found out from Melina. She was trying to bury it under the rug as if it never happened. She didn't want to push her, so that meant that the child bottled everything up and finally burst.
A vicious cycle she couldn't get her to break.
"Don't waste your potential on useless sentiment."
"It's you, or them."
Alya tried to reach for her hair again, but Natasha prevented her from doing so. In a moment of desperation, needing to let that whirling pool of emotions go, Alya ripped herself out of Natasha's grip, pulled her arm back and hit her.
It wasn't a hard hit. In fact, it was almost as light as a tap.
The problem wasn't the strength behind it. It was the fact that she had done it all.
And as soon as her hand made contact with her mother's arm, it was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Alya had even shocked herself out of her hysterics and looked at her with wide eyes.
"Okay." Natasha took a deep breath and stood up. "Let's go."
She lifted Alya up to stand and lead her to the room they shared. The eleven year old tried to apologize, but nothing ever left her lips.
She thought that this was it. Natasha was going to hand her her duffle bag and kick her out, or if she didn't do that, she would hit her back.
Whatever Natasha decided, Alya was fully aware that she deserved it.
But what she ended up doing shocked her.
"Sit down." Natasha set her down on their bed. "Don't move."
"M-Mama?"
"I understand that you're feeling upset." She gently took the child's hands in her own. "I understand that you're feeling overwhelmed and you might even be scared. I get that. But you cannot lash out and hit me. I am not here to hit you and you are definitely not here to hit me."
"I'm s-sorry, M-Mama." Alya's big blue eyes made Natasha soften her resolve.
"Thank you for apologizing to me. I think we both need a little break." The woman chose her words carefully. "We're both feeling too many things right now. Maybe a little quiet time will do us both some good."
"M-Mama?"
"I'm not upset and you're not in trouble. However, we do need to talk. There's something going on with you and you need time to figure out how to tell me about it." She used the pad of her thumbs to wipe the girl's cheeks before kissing her forehead and leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
She only made it to the table before she, too, broke down in a set of her own tears.
What on earth had they done to her baby?
And how had she let it happen?
Natasha didn't know just how long she had been sitting at that table crying herself dry, but when she stopped, she figured Alya might be ready to talk.
So she stood up and washed her face, clearing all evidence of tears away, and went back to the bedroom.
Her heart broke when she found Alya sitting exactly where she left her, trembling in an attempt not to cry.
"Alya? Can Mama come in?"
All she got was a timid nod, but that was good enough for her.
She sat down right next to the child and waited patiently for her to open up, sincerely hoping that she would. She didn't know what she'd do if the eleven year old remained silent.
And just when it seemed like Alya wasn't going to say anything, the little girl's breath hitched and out poured her sorrows.
"I-I don't feel good, M-Mama!"
"Can you explain that to me?" Natasha reached out to rub soothing circles on her back.
Alya stayed silent for a while, trying to think of a way to tell Natasha everything, without actually having to tell her. But then she ultimately decided to keep it all to herself.
Well, the stuff about the Red Room anyway.
She felt it was probably in her best interest not to say anything to her mother, because it might change the way she saw her.
If Tony was right, and she believed he was, then telling the truth would only cause everyone to pull away from her. If she could get them to think well of her now and have them continue like that, then maybe no one would ever have to find out how despicable she was.
No. She wasn't going to tell her mama about any of this. That was her safest bet.
"Come. It's nap time." The woman stood up, pulling Alya up with her.
If she wasn't going to say anything, then she might as well get some rest. She needed it.
The redhead pulled the covers back and gently deposited the kid onto the bed, pulling them over her to tuck her in, despite her incoherent protests. "Озорство, Идите сюда."
Mischief had fled during the commotion, not being a big fan of all the drama. She had better ways to bide her time than to watch the two humans solve their issues.
The black cat casually hopped onto the bed and curled up near Alya's head to let her know she was there. She wished she'd stop all that crying. It was so noisy. How was anybody supposed to get in a good catnap around here with all this crying?
"Не дай мне снова застать тебя в этой постели. Это разовая сделка, понятно?" Natasha pointed a stern finger at her, to which she just licked her paw and purred. "Keep her company and come get me if she needs anything."
Mischief meowed when she got a couple of pats before Natasha put George in the crook of Alya's arm, kissing her forehead.
"Everything is okay, милая девушка." She soothed, swiping some tears away with her thumb. "Get some sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."
Alya whimpered and looked at her mother with those big, bright eyes she loved so much. She was calming down some, which reinforced Natasha's decision to put her to bed. The sleep would do her some good.
She noticed that for the very first time in months, Alya had stuck her finger in her mouth. But instead of pulling it out for her, she let her have it.
She needed it right now.
"You ever not sleep?" Natasha gently kicked Mason, who just so happened to be sleeping on the green grass.
The day had arrived where she and Alya would say goodbye to their little trailer in Norway to meet up with Steve.
She was a little excited to see her friend for the first time in several months. She'd missed his strong presence and she also missed having another adult she could talk to.
They decided that once they broke everyone out of the Raft, they'd all stick together for as long as they could. Being on the run was going to be hard, but that didn't mean they had to do it all alone.
"I've been in six different time zones in three days because of you."
Poor Mason had been her gopher since she had been named an international fugitive. The man had been tasked with providing her with necessities at very short notice.
She knew he was tired of it all, but because they were friends, he tolerated it just for her.
"Oh, really?"
That didn't mean she wouldn't tease him about it, though.
"Yeah."
"What, are you scrapping together some parts?" She smirked, holding tightly to Alya's hand. They hadn't quite resolved their little…issue just yet, but they would with time. "What'd you get me this time, like, and upside-down lawnmower?"
"You see what I can get you with a bit of time and money?" Mason motioned to the large quinjet in the distance. "Go on, say it. I wanna hear it. It would be good for me to hear it. Really."
"I'm impressed." The new blonde smirked.
"Well, yeah."
"You've always been a really good friend to me. You've been a really good friend to my kid."
"That's what every man wants to hear." He smiled in exchange. "Where're you gonna go?"
"It's funny. My whole life, I didn't think I had any family. Turns out, I've got three, so…." Natasha tickled Alya's neck, making her scrunch up. "One of them's a bit of a mess right now. I'm gonna go break a few of them out of prison, see if I can't help patch things up."
"Well, before you go." Mason pulled a brown paper bag out of his pocket and handed it to the eleven year old. "Bit of an early birthday present for you."
"What is it?"
"Open it and find out."
Alya opened the bag and found all kinds of different flavors of licorice. "Licorice!" She beamed.
"I'll take that, thank you." Natasha snatched it from her hands and smiled when she tried reaching for it. "Her birthday isn't for months. You did this on purpose."
"What can I say? I have to stay on her good side."
"Mama!"
"Here." The woman took a rope out and handed it to her right before playfully shoving her forehead. "Now leave me alone."
Alya giggled and bit into her sweet treat. She was a sugar freak. It didn't matter what kind of sugar it was, as long as she could consume it, she loved it.
Natasha would let it slide for now. Anything was worth seeing that little smile on her face.
"Uncle Steve! Uncle Steve!" Alya rushed at the large man as soon as she saw him, jumping at him before he could even blink.
Luckily for her, Steve was used to her throwing herself at him and caught her with ease. She still weighed next to nothing and to add that with his super strength, holding her was like holding a small pumpkin.
"Oh, I've missed you!" He kissed her cheek. "You're growing up on me. How old are you now? Forty?"
"Seems like it." Natasha muttered, amused.
"No! I'm still eleven!"
"Wow. I'm glad I didn't miss all that time with my favorite little buddy. How have you been? Behaving for your mama?"
"…Yes?"
"That doesn't sound too convincing." He bounced her a little. "What's going on, huh?"
"We had a little meltdown." Natasha supplied.
"Oh yeah?" Steve looked directly at Alya who resorted to playing with his newly growing stubble.
Alya liked the scratchy feeling on her hands and she liked when he tickled her neck with the rough hairs.
He always pretended to be a monster that wanted to gobble her up, right before he shaved. He'd chase her around the Compound, growling and making nomming noises to provoke those little squeals he loved so much.
She wondered if they'd ever be that happy and carefree again.
"Alya?"
Now that got her attention.
Natasha must've told him about some things over the phone, because she didn't know how Steve could possibly know her diminutive. Unless Bucky told him in passing.
"Mama wouldn't let me dye my hair and I got mad, and I cried a lot." The child rambled. "And she made me feel better. I took a long nap….But I said sorry."
"Good girl." Steve shared a smile with Natasha.
Alya was precious, he just wanted to hold her and never let her go.
"Mama? Are we going to the Raft now?"
"No, sweet girl, you're not coming with us, remember?" Natasha rubbed her back. "It's too dangerous for you and Mischief to come along."
"Am I going with Papa?" Her eyes shined as she perked up at the thought of spending time with her father.
That would be a nice change in pace.
"I'm sorry, Buddy." Steve sighed. "Princess Shuri told me they're still working on making him feel better. But as soon as he does, you'll get to see him. It's only a matter of time."
"Oh." Alya pouted.
"I promise you'll see him soon, sweetheart." Natasha assured her. "And then you can tell him all about our adventures."
"Where am I going now?"
"Back home."
"Norway? By myself?" Well, that didn't make any sense. They just came from there.
"New York…with Uncle Tony."
"No!" Alya's mouth ran before her brain could tell her to stop. "I don't wanna go with him! I wanna stay with you!"
"What's the matter?" Natasha's eyebrows scrunched low together. "You love Uncle Tony. You have a lot of fun together."
"No!"
"And Aunt Pepper's going to be there, too."
"No!"
The only one who understood her frustration was Steve. Of course he did, he was right there in Siberia when Tony tried to kill her father. And he was there when he shouted all those mean things to her before they left.
"Please let me stay with you?"
But there was no other option. Neither adult was willing to put Alya in danger, so their safest bet was sending her to stay with Tony.
"It's gonna be okay, sweet girl." Natasha poked her side, saddened that it didn't succeed in getting her to smile. "I promise."
How many promises was she going to make before she realized one day, she was going to make one she just couldn't keep?