Chapter Thirty-Two
Alya woke up to Mischief pawing at her and some annoying noise that didn't seem to want to stop.
At first, she pushed the cat away from her and shoved her pillow over her face to block out the sound. But then Mischief started to walk all over her and nip at her arm.
"Бросьте!" She groaned, her body was so fatigued she didn't want to move.
But after a few seconds of the constant noise, she realized that it was her phone that was ringing. Which meant, someone was calling her.
And that someone, could have been her mother.
She shot up, making Mischief jump nearly nine feet in the air and scrambled in her bag for her phone, not bothering to check the caller I.D. before she answered.
"Hello?"
"Alyona?"
"Mama?"
"Alyona, where are you right now?"
That was a loaded question.
"Um, I'm home, Mama." Not exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She didn't know if Natasha knew about what she's done, but she wasn't about to incriminate herself so easily.
"Oh? You are?" Alya could practically see her mother's hand on her hip right along with her disapproving glare. Not the regular one either. No, the one that was reserved for when she really did something wrong.
"Yes, Mama."
"Is that why Pepper called me in frenzy because she doesn't know where you are?"
Busted.
"Did you get everyone out okay?" She bit her lip.
"Don't you change the subject on me, Alyona Morozovna." Natasha scolded on the opposite end of the line. "I sent you to New York so that you would be safe. Apparently, you thought that my absence was some sort of opportunity to do whatever you wanted. I'm not happy about it."
"Sorry."
"Save it. Where are you?"
"I'm at home, Mama."
"Stop. Lying."
"Mama, I'm at home." Alya insisted. "In Brooklyn."
It was evident that Natasha was doing her best not to blow up over the phone. Now wasn't the time to yell. She could do that when they reunited, for now, she needed to keep her cool.
"Are you safe?"
"Yes."
"We booked you a flight for this evening. I want you to stay where you are, away from everyone and when it's time, you're going to go to Queens and catch that flight or so help me, I'll fly over there to get you myself. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mama." Alya gulped.
Maybe leaving hadn't been the best course of action.
"We'll talk about this later. You have a lot of explaining to do. Bye, sweet girl."
"Bye, Mama."
Natasha waited until she heard the line click to let out a groan of frustration. This was not the time for games. It was frightening not knowing her daughter's whereabouts, even if it was only for a few minutes.
"What's wrong?" Steve asked, only having caught the tail end of the conversation.
"Your niece decided to leave the Compound in the middle of the night to head for New York."
"She what?!" His eyes widened. "Is she okay? Where is she?"
If Natasha didn't know any better, she would've thought that Steve looked a little angry. But that couldn't be the case because Alya was his 'sweet little munchkin' who could never do wrong.
Maybe his little munchkin finally crossed the line.
"She's in Brooklyn. Don't worry, I traced the call. She's back at the apartment."
"Okay." Steve visibly relaxed. "Good. She's safe. Are you gonna go get her?"
"I can't step foot in the country." Natasha gave him a look. "She's flying in first thing in the morning. When she does, she can explain all of this to me, because I don't get it."
"C'mon, Mischief." Alya yawned, carrying her duffle bag in one hand and the cat's kennel in the other.
She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep during the flight from New York. The plane took off at seven in the evening and landed eight hours later. Because she was so tired, Alya actually had no clue where she landed, she just knew she was there.
She blinked to keep herself awake and looked up at the signs in the airport, hoping they were written in a language she knew and understood.
Just her luck, everything was in German.
She and Natasha had brushed up on a few languages, building upon the foundation of what she already knew. German was one of those languages.
"Ausgang." She read aloud.
The sign meant, 'exit'. So she dipped her head down as not to draw attention to herself, and headed that way.
It was really surprising how many people didn't think it odd to see a young child alone at the airport. No one tried to stop her or ask her if she needed help, but maybe they were just keeping their concern to themselves.
Finally getting out of that airport was relieving and confusing. It took Alya a bit of a minute to realize that she wasn't actually in Germany.
She was in Switzerland again.
"Hey." A friendly voice called to her with a whistle. The same whistle her mother had done with Yelena back in Russia.
She turned and smiled in the direction of the sound, heading for Natasha as quickly as she could. "Mama!"
"Oh, I've missed you!" Natasha engulfed the girl in her arms. The separation hadn't just been tough on Alya. Her mother had definitely felt her absence the entire time. "C'mon, let's go." She ushered the girl into the dark grey SUV she was standing by and hopped into the driver's seat before looking at the rearview. "Put your seatbelt on."
"I'm buckling Mischief in, Mama."
It was the truth. As soon as Alya got into the vehicle, she began trying to wrap a seatbelt around Mischief's kennel. It was proving to be difficult so far, but she'd get it to work.
"Alyona, put your seatbelt on, please." The blonde tapped her fingers against the steering wheel.
"Okay." Alya stopped what she was doing and did as she was told. "Can I try again now?"
"Put the cat on your lap. She doesn't need a seatbelt, you know that." Natasha stepped on the gas and pulled away as soon as she heard that satisfying 'click'.
"What if she gets hurt?"
"She's not going to get hurt, kiddo." Natasha chuckled. "Don't worry about the cat. You, however, are a completely different issue."
"I'm an issue?"
"What do you think?"
"Uh oh." Alya sunk low into her seat when her mother sent her a firm glare through the rearview mirror.
"Uh oh, is right." Natasha nodded. "What were you thinking?"
"I didn't wanna stay there anymore, Mama." Alya sat up to make her case.
She didn't make a very good one.
"Alya, it was never a question of what you wanted to do. It's harsh and I'm sorry, but that's the truth. The only thing I was concerned about, was your safety."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't fix broken trust."
Alya had never thought that by leaving the way she did, she would be breaking her mother's trust. She just had to get out of there. Nothing felt right. It was all too much for her and she just had to get away.
She wished that she could explain that to her mother, but she couldn't find the right words to express it.
"I didn't wanna stay." Was the very best she could do.
Natasha didn't respond to that. She just just glanced back at Alya only to find a single tear slide down her cheek. Of course, it made her feel bad, but what Alya had done was reckless and she needed to understand that.
She couldn't let her get hurt.
Alya's leg bounced shakily for the millionth time in four hours.
That's how long it had been since she arrived at their new home. It wasn't a trailer this time. Though that had been cozy, it just didn't supply enough room for five people.
As soon as Sam was rescued from the Raft, there was no convincing him to tag along. He was itching to see his sister and his nephew back home. He doubted that the government would even look there, at least, not at first, so that's where he was headed.
Scott was the same. He'd been away from his daughter for far too long and he was used to being on the run.
So that left Alya, Steve, Natasha, Wanda, and Clint. Clint was still on the fence about what to do. He didn't want to leave his friends stranded just in case they needed him, but he also didn't want his family to have to worry about him too much. For now, he would wait and stay away from the farm. Something was bound to give at some point.
Alya missed Norway, but this was nice, too. They were staying in a two-story house with three bedrooms, three bathrooms and a fully furnished basement. There was a small, fenced-in yard and a cute little mailbox out front.
Her teeth grooved over her bottom lip and she stuck a hand over her leg to keep it still. Her little reunion had gone as well as to be expected considering what she had done.
Everyone welcomed her with open arms right before scolding for what happened. All except Wanda, that is. She seemed to understand that there might've been something Alya was not saying.
She hadn't looked into her head, that would've been a complete invasion of privacy, but she didn't need powers to see that something was wrong. The adults couldn't see it, their emotions were running too high. But Wanda was sure that when everyone calmed down, they'd realize it, too.
Alya had been sent to her room, a room she was sharing with Wanda, to unpack and think.
The room was very nice. The walls were a light purple and there were two full-sized beds on each side, one for her and one for Wanda. The closet was half full and the dresser was half empty, waiting for Alya to put her clothes in.
She would've been more excited at the thought of sharing a room with her sister if she wasn't so worried about the status of her relationship with her mother. The woman hadn't just been upset about her leaving the Compound, Pepper had told her about the fight she had gotten into as well.
Natasha said that she broke her trust.
What did that mean? Did it mean she didn't trust her anymore? Not at all?
What would it mean for them going forward? Alya had seen the way Natasha treated people she didn't trust. She didn't want to be one of the many.
Being alone like this, while everyone else was somewhere else, wasn't helping her at all. All she could think about, was how Natasha must have been pulling away from her because she broke Serena's nose.
And if she was having such a strong reaction to Alya just breaking another girl's nose, then she couldn't ever find out about the girls she had to take out in the Red Room.
While she sat on her bed with her unpacked bag at her feet, and the closed up cat kennel on the ground, she began to realize why she had been so upset with Tony in the first place.
He had told her the truth when no one else would. He had been willing to do that even though she might not want to hear it.
She was a monster, she was dangerous, she was untrustworthy.
Her mother couldn't look at her for a reason. She had sent her up here to be alone for a reason.
"Alya?" Wanda knocked softly. She didn't hear anything in response, but she figured the girl was still awake and hadn't drifted off to take a nap like Natasha said she might.
So she opened the door and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. Alya was sitting completely still on the edge of her bed, staring off into space. Her bag was untouched and Mischief was meowing to be let out of her kennel.
But it was like Alya couldn't hear her.
"Alya?" Wanda tried again, this time, a little louder.
Alya didn't even blink.
What was going on with her? Natasha had told her that Alya had been through a lot back in Russia and to be patient, but she didn't think that it was this bad.
She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to touch her, for fear of startling her. But she also didn't want to leave her like that, just staring at nothing.
"Alya."
Alya blinked this time and glanced up at the older girl, her eyes so dull they didn't even look like they belonged to her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes." Came the automatic response. "I'm fine….just tired."
"Dinner is ready….we're having it early because it's been a long day. I'm sure you're hungry."
Alya didn't think she could stomach a thing, but she'd try anyway. "Okay."
Wanda held a hand out for her to take, but Alya pretended as if she hadn't seen it and followed her down the stairs. Stairs were something she'd have to get used to. She'd never lived in a house with stairs before. She needed to remember they were there so she didn't tumble down them in the middle of the night.
When they got to the little dining area by the kitchen, Alya stopped short. Obviously, everyone had been living here a while before she got here. There was a routine, there were seating arrangements, things she didn't know.
What if she sat in the wrong place? What if she started eating before she was supposed to?
She was beginning to realize that there was a lot that she missed and she didn't feel very included anymore.
"Alya, sit down." Wanda nudged her as Steve and Natasha put the food out while Clint set the table.
Where?
Wanda seemed to know what was bothering her and took her arm, pulling her over to a chair to sit in. "Here. You can sit across from your mama."
Oh joy.
Alya got as comfortable as she could and watched as Steve served her some food. She gently pushed his hand away and shook her head, not really wanting more than a bite of anything, but he didn't listen.
"You have to eat something, Alya." Is what he said.
When he was finished, Alya looked down at her plate, finding a food she had never liked eating.
Cauliflower.
Her nose scrunched at the sight of it and she pushed it as far to the side as she could so it wouldn't contaminate anything.
"Alya, eat." Natasha raised an eyebrow. Alya hated veggies, but she needed the nutrition.
Alya scooped a forkful of rice and chicken in her mouth, but left the imitation broccoli alone. She continued like that until all the rice and chicken were gone.
"Alya, eat your cauliflower."
Alya shook her head and gently pushed her plate away.
"Alright." Natasha wasn't going to fight with an eleven year old. She wasn't that kind of parent. "You can sit there until you eat it then."
Alya eyed the cauliflower on her plate and pushed it away with her fork, watching it roll around in a circle before it stopped.
She heard a joke play on the television, cuing everyone's laughter after it. She had been sitting at the table for what seemed like forever. Everyone had finished eating before and had dessert; ice cream, her favorite. She didn't know whether or not it was supposed to be an incentive to get her to eat the cauliflower or just a decision to rub her nose in it.
She turned around for a moment to figure out what everyone was watching, but she had never seen what ever program it was. It must've been funny to have her mother laughing. It took a lot to get her to laugh.
She turned her attention back to the disgusting cauliflower and shook her head. She wasn't eating it. The chair she was in, was more than comfortable enough to sleep in.
She wasn't eating that.
As another round of laughter rang in her ears, Alya began to feel more and more alone.
This is how it had started with Katya.
Was this fake, too?
She was confused.
But most of all, she was hurt.