Chapter Thirty-Eight
"Alya, come, it's time for dinner." Natasha called her daughter, placing a dish full of food down on the table.
Alya was kneeling on a cushion, staring at the window. She knew that Steve would be coming back soon, and she wanted to be there when he did. She had been there at the bay window for the better part of two hours. It was Wanda's turn to set the table anyway, so Natasha allowed it.
"But, Mama, I'm keeping watch."
"I know you are." Natasha acknowledged with a smile. "How about you take a dinner break?"
"Okay." The little girl sighed and slid off of her seat to make her way to the dinner table where her plate was waiting for her.
The very first thing she spotted was cauliflower.
Ick.
"You have to at least try it, sweet girl." Natasha tried a different approach than last time. "Three bites."
"No way." She grimaced.
"If you eat three bites, you can pick the movie we watch tonight."
Now that offer was tempting. What Alya didn't know, was Natasha had prepared it differently than she had last time.
The child picked up a small piece and sniffed it with a frown, before she put it in her mouth. To her surprise, she found that she actually didn't hate it.
In fact, she kind of liked it. She didn't know how this batch was different from the one she refused to eat before, but she wasn't going to complain about it. It was really good.
But her stubborn streak wouldn't let her admit that. So she curled up her nose and pretended that she couldn't stand the taste of it.
Of course, her mother knew better. She saw her eyes light up when she took that first bite. But she didn't comment on it. As long as Alya was eating, that was all that mattered.
"Look who's back." Wanda nudged her as Steve entered the house with Peter.
At first, Alya was excited, but when it registered that Peter was here, she immediately deflated. Natasha noticed and thought it odd, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she greeted Steve and smiled at Peter.
They had briefly met in Germany, but there wasn't really any time to truly get to know one another. Now was as good a time as any.
"Hello, Ms. Romanoff." Peter looked nervous as he shook her hand. "T-Thank you for having me."
To be completely honest, he had been a nervous wreck the minute Tony told him he would have to leave the country. The only time he had ever left, was for Germany, but he was brought back home to New York as soon as possible.
This time, he had to leave everything and everyone behind. His school, Ned, and most importantly, Aunt May.
The look on her face when he had to tell her that he was Spider-Man, was something he would never forget. The dissapointment, the aggravation, the fear. She was all the way across the world, but he could still see it.
She had done her best to protect him from all of the dangers he might come across, but she couldn't do anything for him now. All she could do, was trust that Steve and Natasha, people she didn't know and had never met, would keep her nephew safe from harm.
Peter's heart broke when she received the email for his flight ticket from Steve. His vision blurred when he thought about when he left her to get on the plane, taking as little as possible along with him.
"It's no problem. Call me Natasha." The blonde led him further into the house, ignoring the conflict written all over his face. She figured if he wanted to talk, he'd give her some indication and she didn't want to embarrass him by bringing it up. "That's Wanda." She motioned to the teenager sitting right next to Alya.
"H-Hi."
"Hello." Wanda smiled politely.
"And I'm not sure if you two have met yet, but that's Alya."
"Hi….nice to meet you." Peter's entire demeanor changed.
"Hi." Alya didn't bother looking up at him.
Why had he acted like he didn't know her? That was weird.
Even Wanda sent her a confused look, to which she could only shrug.
"Why don't you sit down? I'll get you two a plate." Natasha suggested after the two men washed their hands. "You can sit in my seat."
Alya eyed Peter as he pushed his food around on his plate once he actually sat down, glancing up at her every now and then.
"Eat something before it gets cold." Natasha startled Alya put of her trance, placing a gentle hand on the back of her head.
She knew this was going to be a big adjustment for her, but it could also be fun. Maybe the three kids could find comfort in each other. Peter looked like he could use a friend right now.
"So, Peter." Wanda subtly kicked Alya's leg so she'd start eating. "You're Spider-Man."
The sooner they could get past this awkward stage, the better. She didn't feel like walking on eggshells in her own home, not for any amount of time.
"Yeah." Peter nodded, keeping his eyes off of Alya.
"I've seen you on the news." The teenaged girl elaborated, trying to break the ice. "I think what you do is pretty cool."
It was really nice to see him fight crime on the streets of New York. It wasn't something the Avengers did, but it didn't mean the job was any less important.
"Thanks….I just try to look out for the little guy." He forced a smile.
"Why are you here?" Alya asked quite bluntly, already knowing the answer. She just wanted to hear Peter's version of it.
And maybe she wanted to push his buttons, too.
"Alya!" Steve gave her a look that she didn't believe herself to be deserving of being on the receiving end of. "Be polite."
He didn't know what had gotten into her. It seemed like the minute Peter stepped through the front door, her entire mood changed. He didn't understand what the reason could be, but he hoped it wasn't jealousy.
She had no reason to feel that way.
Upon the reprimand, Alya narrowed her eyes at Peter as if it were his fault that she had just been scolded. In her mind, it was.
"I finished all my dinner." She looked at her mother. "May I be excused?"
Normally, Natasha would make her sit at the table until everyone was finished. Actually, under normal circumstances, Alya never really asked to be excused before everyone else. So she knew that there was something wrong.
"Go ahead." She looked at her plate. "I'm proud of you, you ate well today. Thank you for not giving me a hard time." She always liked to make a point to acknowledge the good things Alya did. She didn't want the girl to feel as if she was always trying to catch her doing something wrong. "Go sit down on the couch. I'll call you when it's time for dessert."
"Okay." Alya shrugged, putting her dish in the dishwasher before making her way over to the living room, stopping to pick Mischief up.
And then she got an idea.
The last time she checked, Peter was afraid of cats. He wasn't terrified or anything, he just never really met one and was apprehensive around them.
What a perfect opportunity that had just presented itself to her.
"Wanna meet my cat?" She asked, feigning innocence.
If he wanted to pretend as if he didn't know her, then two could play at that game.
"Uh…." Peter tensed and shifted a little.
What was she doing? She knew he was afraid of cats! They scratched and hissed even when there was nothing wrong. He should know, he rescued a couple in the city.
"Her name is Mischief." She moved closer to him to make him even more uncomfortable under the guise of being sweet. "I found her in Vienna…well, she found me, but Mama let me keep her. She was smaller then, but she's still sweet. Do you like cats? She's nice, see?"
By the time Alya finished her ramblings, Peter was practically leaning out of his chair to get away from the animal, but Alya didn't let up. She looked directly at him, watching him squirm now that he had the feline's full attention.
She wouldn't even let Mischief near him if she thought she'd attack. She wasn't that mean. This was just her way of making Peter uncomfortable for kicks.
Poor Mischief had no idea she was being used. She was just happy to be getting some attention.
She lifted her paw to reach out and touch this 'Peter' boy, but he kept moving out of reach. She even tried to lick him, but he wasn't having it.
Most people liked it when she did that.
Huh, his loss.
"You can pet her if you want. She likes it when you scratch behind her ears, but not under her stomach. She'll bite you if you do that."
Wanda covered her mouth so no one would know she was laughing at this situation. The two adults in the room really did believe that their sweet little girl was just trying to make Peter feel welcome, but she knew better.
Alya squeaked in surprise when Steve hooked his finger around her belt loop and yanked her back towards him to give Peter a reprieve. The poor kid looked like he needed saving.
"I don't think Peter wants to pet Mischief just yet." He told her, tickling her neck. "Go to the living room and play quietly or the Tickle Monster is gonna come out and get you."
"There's no such thing as the Tickle Monster!" Alya giggled, trying to lean away from him.
"No?" Steve wiggled his fingers.
"No!"
Alya shrieked when he scribbled his digits all over her tummy and scratched his prickly stubble on her neck, making her scrunch up.
Mischief meowed in alarm and hopped out of her arms, strutting over to Natasha while looking quite offended at the sudden movements Alya was making.
"Did she startle you?" The woman asked, scratching under the cat's chin while she purred. "It was an accident. I'm sure you'll get your revenge for it later."
Peter watched the exchange with wary eyes. Mischief didn't look like she had a mean bone in her body, but she was still a cat.
"She won't bother you." Natasha told him, a smile plastered on her face when her eyes drifted over to Steve giving Alya a hard time. "Alya was just teasing."
"Stop it!" The twelve year old giggled maniacally. By this point, she was hanging upside down off of Steve's lap in an attempt to get away.
And he could see that her face was a little red and her breath was hitched, so he listened. "Get out of here." He gave in to her request and let her go.
Alya stuck her hands out onto the floor and performed a back walk-over, landing on her feet before she made a mad dash for the living room, picking up her bow and quiver with a grin.
"I swear, I'm gonna kill Clint." Natasha muttered, running a frustrated hand over her face. "First the scooter, now this."
"I think it's cute." Wanda smiled. "She's going to be a good archer someday."
"Yeah, I can tell by the arrow to the forehead." She rolled her eyes in jest.
"What?" Steve laughed. This was the first he was hearing of this.
"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Natasha smirked. "Little Miss decided she wanted to shoot an arrow at me today when she was supposed to be doing something quiet."
"Uh oh."
"She was only trying to give you a snack." Wanda defended her sister like she always did. No matter what Alya did, she never hesitated to jump to her defense. "I got one, too."
"Yes, I know." Natasha smiled. "It was sweet. It would've been sweeter if she hadn't missed."
"She'll work on it." Wanda giggled.
Peter just observed the way everyone interacted and felt a small tug in his chest. He would much rather be with Aunt May in their apartment in Queens.
He didn't belong here. He didn't fit in.
"Alya, would you feel comfortable letting Peter pick the movie tonight?" Steve asked the brunette.
It was their weekly movie night and he knew that it was Alya's turn to pick the movie this time, but he wanted Peter to feel a lot more included in their household activities. He had been watching him during dinner and he felt bad for how out of place the boy looked.
But he also didn't want Alya to feel like she was being given the shaft just to make Peter feel better. Her feelings mattered, too.
"I don't care." Alya shrugged, indifferent to the whole thing.
Peter could pick if he wanted to. She was just going to have them watch 'The Wizard of Oz' again for the millionth time.
"Alright." The super soldier showed Peter their collection. "Choose any one you want."
Peter glanced at Alya, though she wasn't really paying him any mind. She had just brought a warm blanket down from her room and Natasha was wrapping her up in it like a little burrito.
He was still so angry with her and he knew she must've been angry with him. He just didn't feel like making amends right now.
There was nothing rational about it, but he wanted to be angry for a while.
"Nice choice." Steve smiled warmly when Peter chose 'The Troll in Central Park'.
"Hey." Natasha tapped Alya's bottom lip. "You like 'The Troll in Central Park'."
Of course she liked 'The Troll in Central Park'. Why did Peter pick it? He didn't like that movie. As a matter of fact, he had expressed his disinterest in it many times.
They used to watch it together all the time. She knew it wasn't one of his favorite films, but he always sat through it for her.
What message was he trying to send?
Alya glared over at Peter, trying to figure him out, but all she got was a sad look in return. She wanted to be so angry with him, but at the moment, all she wanted was to be able to hug him.
But it wasn't that easy.
After years of being apart, they were practically strangers once again.
Familiar red walls clouded Alya's vision. The smell of sweat and fear overwhelmed her nostrils and the harrowing sounds of pain echoed in her ears.
"Alyona." A monotonous voice pulled her deeper into her widowed state. "Daydreaming is sloppy."
"I am sorry, ma'am." She didn't dare look Madame B in the eye. To do so would have been a sign of high disrespect after such a reprimand.
"You will earn your supper today."
Alya always had to earn her supper just like everyone else. If you didn't perform to the best of your abilities, if you failed a mission, if you upset a superior, you didn't eat.
Food was not just a necessity in the Red Room, it was a bargaining chip.
She felt a harsh tug at the roots of her hair, but she remained silent. Any sound she made could provoke Madame B and she was in enough trouble already.
The woman dragged her all the way down to Dreykov's office, violently shoving her through the doorway. Alya could do nothing as she soared across the room before landing on the ground with a hard thud.
She was truly lucky to not have broken anything. Broken bones were weaknesses.
Weaknesses were not tolerated here.
"What is her offense?" Dreykov played with the ring on his finger.
Alya had felt that ring against her cheek many times. She had felt its harsh, cold surface every time he decided to strike her for her insolence.
She knew that ring well.
"I caught her staring off into space, in her own little world."
Her own little world was much better than the only reality she had ever known. In her own little world, there was no such thing as Widows. Little girls grew up in beautiful homes with loving parents, and they were raised to be doctors, nurses, accountants, wives, sisters, family...
Not assassins. Not monsters.
Not this.
"Even when it's impossible, you still try to escape."
Alya's breath hitched as his footsteps clacked and echoed off the walls, growing closer and closer until he was directly in front of her.
After this encounter, she would learn she needed to keep her hair tightly braided. Dreykov reached his hand down and twisted a handful of hair before pulling her up to stand.
There were many ways she could hurt him. His tie, she could use that to harm him and make him let her go. She had widow's bites around her wrists, they sure did hurt and they proved to be effective when needed.
But Alya had never seen a Widow go up against General Dreykov.
And she didn't want to be the first to try or the first to fail.
Failure was too big a risk.
She was quickly snapped out of her thoughts when that horrid ring connected with her lip. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply in an attempt to regulate the pain and her emotions before she opened them once again.
"I see we have a real problem." Dreykov mused. "This daydreaming can become a real problem. A real nuisance."
All at once, several girls of various ages entered the office as if they were waiting for the signal to move.
"I don't like nuisances. You know that as well as anyone. I dispose of them." He drawled. "Let's take a little test...since you enjoy daydreaming, let's see how well it works for you now."
Alya furrowed her eyebrows when he let go of her hair and stepped back.
"Widows. Attack." He ordered the girls. "Alyona can either stand there and daydream, or she can fight back and live."
Alya didn't even see the first blow come, but she felt it land. Her feet struggled to remain flat on the ground blow after were so many Widows, it was hard to fight back effectively.
But she tried anyway.
She was Widow. She was made of marble.
Nothing could stop her.
She was made for this and she would be the best.
A left hook, sent her head in that direction to where she saw someone that wasn't there before.
Someone that didn't belong in the Red Room at all.
Wanda.
And with a gust of her red wisps, Dreykov, Madame B, and all the girls fell in a heap. Alya almost went with them, but Wanda caught her in time.
"What're you doing here?" She coughed, still recovering from a nasty blow to the stomach.
"You were muttering in you sleep." Wanda explained, stroking her hair.
This touch was welcome. Wanda's fingers weren't going to curl around her roots to cause her any pain. She wasn't going to yank or pull just to reprimand her or catch her attention.
No, she was only gently running her hand along her hair to calm her down.
To comfort her.
Comfort didn't belong in the Red Room.
But this was Wanda.
Wanda wouldn't lock her in a dark closet overnight for accepting comfort. She wouldn't withhold her dinner because she needed a quick hug or words of reassurance.
Wanda wasn't Madame B. She wasn't Dreykov.
"I tried to wake you up, but you pulled me into your nightmare."
"This isn't real?" Alya questioned.
"No." She felt Wanda press a kiss to forehead. "No, little sister, this isn't real. But it's time to wake up."
"But the Red Room..."
"It's okay." Wanda's voice soothed her. "Let's go home."
Alya woke up with a start and fell out of her bed in a fast attempt to run away from whatever was plaguing her.
Wanda tried to stop her before she hurt herself, but Alya wasn't herself.
She was acting like a Widow. Like she was still there.
"Alya, wait!"
But Alya didn't hear her.
This was a trick. Dreykov and Madame B were playing a nasty trick on her, testing her to see if she'd break.
She was going to prove them wrong. She wasn't breakable.
She was made of marble.
"I am not weak. Weakness is not tolerated."
"Natasha! Steve!" Wanda called out for the two adults, no longer trying to get the girl to calm down. She needed help. "Natasha! Steve!"
Alya heard their names and she knew who they were, but their place in her life didn't register in her mind.
This was a test she would not fail.
"Oh no..." She heard Steve sigh.
She felt his hands reaching out for her, but she wouldn't let him get a good grip on her. His touch felt like fire and it did nothing but make her feel more like she was in danger. So as soon as she was far enough away, she bolted down to the kitchen.
Her hands ripped open every single drawer until she found the one that held all the knives. If anyone came near her to try to hurt her, she would not hesitate.
Every other Widow was her enemy. She would not let them get the best of her. It was them or her, and the choice to make was easy.
"Alya?" Natasha crept down the stairs, trying not to startle her. "It's Mama."
Alya's grip on the pairing knife she found faltered before it tightened again.
She was lying. Dreykov took her away from her mama.
"Look at me, sweet girl." Natasha kept her hand raised with one behind her back, loathing the foreign look she saw in her daughter's eyes. "You can keep the knife in your hand, but I want you to look at Mama, okay?"
Alya blinked, but allowed her to approach.
Her nose twitched with uncertainty as she watched the blonde approach her so slowly, as if she were going to spook at any second.
This woman looked like her mama. She sounded like her, too.
But Dreykov had technology that could make anyone look like that. He was testing her. He had to be.
"Лжец!" She hissed, unwilling to back down, for fear of being attacked.
"This is not the Red Room. You are safe." Natasha spoke sternly. "Dreykov and Madame B can't hurt you anymore. They're gone."
"Gone?" Alya's eyes flickered through a plethora of emotions as the word registered in her brain. "They're not here?"
"No." Natasha firmly shook her head. "Never here. Can you put the knife down for Mama, please? I don't want you to hurt yourself."
"This is a test." No one in the Red Room ever cared whether or not she hurt herself. She had cut herself on the blade of a knife when she was four years old and all she got was a slap in the face and no dinner to add insult to injury.
Her wellbeing had never been a priority with them.
But it seemed to be a priority now.
"No. This is not a test. I am real." Natasha stressed, a bit relieved to see that the twelve year old was calming down a bit. "Do I look like I'm lying?"
"No."
"Then can you put the knife down? I'd really like a hug."
Alya hesitated before she set the knife down and allowed Natasha to lift her up into her arms. At first she tensed up. She was exhausted, but she wanted to stay awake to marvel in this comfort she was receiving.
Her mind was all fuzzy, but the longer Natasha rubbed her back, the less she cared. She felt relatively safe in her hold. So much so, that she couldn't prevent her eyelids from growing unbearably heavy in weight before they collapsed completely, rendering her unconscious once again.
She didn't even feel the soft fur of her beloved companion, George, as Natasha slipped him into her arms to keep her company for the rest of the night.
Bonus Scene:
"What was that?" Wanda asked Steve and Natasha, watching Alya sleep peacefully as if nothing happened.
"I don't know." Natasha shook her head, at a loss for what to say. "She wasn't herself. It was like she looked right through me. Wanda, what happened before she got out of bed?"
"She was talking in her sleep and it sounded like she was in pain, so I tried to wake her up, but I got sucked into her dream."
"That happen often?" Steve questioned out of curiosity.
"Not very often, but enough for me to know that I don't like it."
"What did you see?" Natasha kept her eyes on her daughter, waiting for the slightest abnormal twitch so that she could jump into action.
"The Red Room...she was back there in that horrible place." Wanda shuddered. "There were girls everywhere, fighting each other so brutally. Alya was with a girl her age, but she was in a daze...like she was thinking about something. It was horrible, they hurt her in there and they never thought twice about it. Is that really how it was?"
"It was worse." Natasha swallowed a lump in her throat.
"Do you think she was sleep walking?" Steve guessed now that they had more information.
"More than likely." She nodded. "She probably won't even remember this come tomorrow morning."
But Natasha would remember. She would remember enough for the both of them. Alya needed help she couldn't provide. This was bigger than the both of them and she needed answers to questions she couldn't even ask.
Alya's trauma ran deep, but for right now, there was nothing she could do for her, except watch and wait.