Chapter Thirty-Nine
Several days had passed since Peter arrived at the house and there was a constant chill in the air whenever he and Alya were in the same vicinity.
Either she'd expertly antagonize him, or she'd blatantly ignore him.
She'd make sure to let him know that she wasn't happy with him.
One night, while everyone was upstairs sleeping, Alya made her way down to the kitchen to get herself something to drink. She was a little restless and she figured that a glass of milk would be enough to lull her back to sleep.
She wasn't sure why, but nightmares seemed to be plaguing her sleep more often than they normally did.
To her surprise, she found Peter was already in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of water.
The two kids stared at one another for a few seconds before Alya snapped herself out of it and headed to the fridge in search of her milk. Wanda didn't like cow's milk, so there was a carton of rice milk on the door for her. Natasha preferred 2%, but Alya and Steve liked whole milk. That was probably because of their quicker metabolisms due to the serum in their bodies. It was the only kind of milk that would satisfy them.
Placing the red-capped gallon down, Alya scaled the counter for a glass to pour the drink in.
Peter watched while she did so, unwilling to help her, all while wanting to see how this would play out.
He didn't say it, but he was also concerned that she might fall and hurt herself.
Alya was successful in getting her cup and poured a decent amount of milk inside of it before she put the milk back where it belonged with a smug grin.
Next time, she might try it with her powers. She and Wanda were still working on getting her to control them properly. So far, Alya learned that it took a lot of effort and willpower to focus that power so it didn't go haywire.
But little by little, she was getting better. Wanda told her that one day she would have a lightbulb moment where everything would just fall into place.
She was hoping that day was soon.
The two youngest of the household kind of just co-existed in silence while they drank their beverages, eyeing each other suspiciously.
They both clearly wanted to say something, but neither really knew how to start.
Alya set her glass down on the counter before she decided to actually break the silence. "Why'd you pretend like you didn't know who I was?"
That day he arrived in Russia and they were introduced, he looked her right in the eye and acted like he was meeting her for the very first time.
It hurt.
Alya didn't think she had screwed up that badly, but maybe she was wrong. It was so easy to lose track of important things and people when all these huge events were happening. Peter sort of just got lost in the shuffle.
She never meant for that to happen, but it did.
"I don't." Peter shrugged his shoulder in response.
"What're you talking about?"
"Up until Germany, I've known this false version of you, not the real you. I mean, just a few days ago, I found out your real name is 'Alya'. You call the Black Widow, 'Mama'. You've been lying to me for who knows how long." He spat.
This isn't the way he wanted this conversation to go. His emotions were getting the better of him.
What he really wanted to know was why Alya hid everything from him the way she did. Didn't she trust him? He could've helped. He could've been a shoulder to lean on when she needed it the most.
Instead, all that came out of his mouth were petty little jabs.
"I wasn't lying."
"Oh, come on." Peter scoffed. "Name one thing that I know about you, that's true."
He wished he could get ahold of himself.
"I like m&m's." Alya cringed after she said it.
"Nice." Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm glad I know that, because it's really and truly important."
"I don't know what you want me to say."
Alya knew that that wasn't the smartest thing to say, but it was all she could come up with.
"Is there anything real about this friendship?"
"Of course there is."
"I had a talk with Tony before I left, you know." Peter seemingly changed the subject very abruptly.
"Oh."
Here it comes. He was going to turn against her the same way her Uncle Tony did.
She didn't know if she could handle another devastating blow, but she would soon find out.
"He told me he was sorry for keeping me in the dark about some things." He elaborated. "And he told me some other things, too."
"Like what?" Alya really didn't like where this was going.
"You're a spy." He cut right to the chase. "From Russia."
He could see her pupils expanding to the point where the piercing blue of her eyes were a thin line. She was getting nervous, but they needed to clear the air.
He wasn't really sure what Tony's motives were for telling him all this unknown information about Alya, but it didn't seem like it had been done maliciously. Tony looked pretty guilty when he told him everything. He even asked him not to hold it against her.
It was almost as if he was trying to right a wrong.
"Peter…."
"And so's your mother." The teenager spoke softly, making sure to keep his features very neutral.
"I don't…..I don't…." Alya's tongue felt like sandpaper in her mouth.
She was such a horrible person for doing the things she did all those years ago under the guise of friendship. If Peter never wanted to have anything to do with her ever again, then she wouldn't blame him.
The things she had done were unforgivable.
"Your mother was the one who killed my parents." He continued. "And you were the one who fed the information to her so she could finish the job."
A single tear slipped from Alya's eye and she could feel it as it cascaded down her cheek. Watching the person she had always viewed as warm and safe even when things weren't going right...listening to him as he told her everything he knew...it was all too much.
What if he hated her?
"I know that you were supposed to receive orders to kill me and my aunt." He gave no indication to what he was feeling.
"Peter..." Alya bit her lips nervously. "I'm so sorry...I...I'm sorry."
She couldn't even tell him that even if she had received the orders, she wouldn't have done it. She didn't know what she would've done. Back then, she belonged to the Red Room. If Dreykov gave an order, she had to follow it.
"And I know that you were born in the Red Room. I don't know much about it, but from what I do know, it's a horrible place and you were forced to do things that no child should be forced to do. You were taught to disarm and defeat, lie, and infiltrate...it's what you were born for. Your parents were assassins and you were meant to be just like them."
Alya was so ashamed she couldn't even look at him anymore. So she focused her eyes on the island counter. The beautiful granite did not lose its appeal in the low light.
"I used to be really confused when you couldn't hang out during the summer and your mom would tell me that you were visiting your grandmother's. I know that that wasn't true. Every summer, you had to go back to the Red Room..."
Now, that was news to Alya. She had no recollection of those summers. She thought that she had left the Red Room for good when she was still a small child. She never knew anything about going back. Katya never said anything about that and neither did Melina.
She'd have to look into it. Of course, finding the catsuits in various sizes made sense now. Even when she was out, she was still property of the Red Room.
The Avengers really had saved her. Who knew how she would've ended up if not for them? Who knew who she would've been if not for Natasha taking her under her wing?
She owed her a lot.
Maybe she'd do something to show how much she appreciated her.
"And every year, you'd come back a little different than before...colder, a lot more calculating, less childlike. It all makes sense now." Peter blinked back tears of his own as his defenses faltered.
"I'm sorry." Alya exhaled shakily.
"No." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. All this time I've been mad at you, I've really been mad at myself. I'm your friend, you're my family...some of the only family I have left and I couldn't protect you from this. I couldn't even see how much pain you were in."
"It's okay." Alya was shocked by this turn of events, she thought for sure, he would've yelled at her and then stormed away. "It wasn't your fault. You were just a kid."
"You ever say that to yourself?"
"Huh?" Her head snapped up to look at him.
"It wasn't your fault either." Peter told her, looking directly in her eyes. "You were just a kid. You're still a kid. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you. I'm glad you have the Avengers and I'm glad you and Ms. Romanoff are so close. I'm sorry I made you feel differently."
"D-Did Uncle Tony tell you all of that?"
"He did." He nodded. "And he looked upset when he did. I've never seen Tony Stark genuinely care for a kid like this. He must really love you."
Tony still loved her.
Her Uncle Tony still loved her. He gave Peter all that information because he wanted to help.
He still loved her.
"I'm sorry about Uncle Ben." She found the confidence to say. "I wasn't there for you when you needed me. And I'm sorry about the Accords. I wish I could've helped."
"Ben wasn't your fault. You didn't know." Peter nudged her hand. "And I'm kind of glad that things happened this way."
"You are?"
"We get to spend more time together. We never would've been able to talk like this if Ross wasn't looking for me."
"You always look on the bright side." She cracked the first real smile of the night. "I'm sorry I scared you with my cat."
"Yeah, that sucked." He chuckled.
"I promise, she's harmless. She's the sweetest cat you'll ever meet."
"I'll take you word for it."
Alya nodded and took a sip of her milk, quite satisfied with the outcome of the conversation.
"So, you have to tell me." Peter stuck a mischievous grin on his face. "What's it like living with earth's mightiest heroes?"
Alya was more than willing to indulge him on that piece of subject matter, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she heard a window open.
Peter must've heard it, too, because he stopped smiling and grew scarily serious, standing up out of his seat. "You guys don't usually expect visitors this late, do you?"
"Not usually." Alya snagged a couple pairing knives from the kitchen drawer and kept her footsteps light as she crept towards the location of the sound.
Peter, realizing he still had his web shooters on, jumped up and landed on the ceiling to investigate in a place where he wouldn't be visible.
It occurred to neither of the two knuckleheads to call for help or alert the adults upstairs. Apparently, they believed themselves to be capable of handling such an unexpected threat.
Alya motioned for Peter to wait when she saw the figure move in the shadows of the living room before she threw one of the knives she was holding, sending it into the wall directly next to the intruder.
"Для крика вслух." (For crying out loud.) The interloper hissed.
Alya furrowed her eyebrows at the voice and rushed to turn the light on despite Peter's hushed panic. She knew that voice anywhere.
"Alya?" The woman sent her the same confused look.
"What's going on down here?" Natasha groaned as she made her way downstairs in a tired manner. Once she saw who was in the living room, any evidence of her being exhausted was quickly wiped away. "Are you kidding me?"