toy tornado
It’s been five days now since Natalia has called to check in and Yelena can finally see a breakthrough of worry on Maria’s face. Maria’s constantly working now, her tablet and laptop glued to her hand as she checks in with Fury.
Fury seems to want to make this hard on Maria, perhaps still sour that she up and left. Yelena has heard him tell Maria that she’s the one that wanted a vacation and to take the kids to Chuck E. Cheese.
Yelena doesn’t know what that means but she’s pretty sure it’s a jab at their age.
Maria’s overworked and Yelena tries to cut her some slack but Maria then drops the bomb that Yelena and Skye were meeting their first potential child psychologist that afternoon. Skye’s not happy about it either and is much more vocal with her protests.
Yelena doesn’t know whether to be pleased that she wouldn’t have to see Damian anymore, worried that Damian would tell Maria what she told him, or offended that her youth is being exaggerated.
Yelena tries to look on the bright side. She wanted Skye safe and if she went to see the same psychiatrist as Skye then she could better judge if they were bad for her.
The tracker around her wrist is more reassuring than it should be, especially when Yelena steps out onto the streets with Skye and Maria. The place was only a few blocks away and Maria didn’t own a car and was never on the ground long enough to need one. If Maria needed one then SHIELD would lend her a van.
The first psychologist has an office that reminds Yelena of Damian’s office. It has a clinical feel to it but there was one section with toys carefully arranged in a way that looked posed.
The woman introduces herself, Ingrid Vikind, but does it more to Maria than them. Ingrid speaks to Maria like Skye and Yelena weren’t there and when she does finally turn toward them she talks like they were young children who found soothing amusement in a soft high-pitched tone.
Yelena feels belittled, like her age is being made fun of. Skye folds her arms and finally interrupts Ingrid to make her opinion known.
“I’m fifteen,” She informs Ingrid, something that the woman should have known. “Not five. And I’m not touched in the head. Speak to me like a normal person.”
Ingrid brushes Skye off so Skye turns at Yelena, winks, and then takes the same tone with Ingrid.
Yelena glances at Maria to see if she was going to get in trouble but Maria seemed content to lean against the wall near the door and observe. Yelena did trust she’d have to step in if she had to.
It’s not until a giggle slips past Yelena’s lips at Skye’s antics that Ingrid spins to face her and ask what she found so funny. Yelena goes rigid, her mouth clamping shut as she’s caught. Ingrid’s tone was accusing.
Skye takes a step in front of Yelena and the reminder of Maria in the room helps stop Yelena from spiraling.
By the time the whole session with Ingrid is over, Yelena feels drained. Skye seemed tired as well but still bumps her shoulder again Yelena’s, concern in her eyes despite the tired smile on her face. “You okay, Tiny Dancer?” Skye asked her quietly.
“Yeah. You were great,” Yelena said and Skye grins. “You okay, Skynet?”
Skye lets out a long sigh, leaning against Yelena’s side a little more heavily. Yelena moves to drape an arm over her shoulders casually. “Yeah. I just hope that’s not who we’re picking.” She said. “She was a real piece of work.”
Maria then passes by them, pausing long enough to briefly touch their shoulders and tells them that she’s proud of them.
The next day still held no phone call from Natalia. Yelena wears one of Natalia’s hoodies because she misses her and the smell comforts her. She tries her best not to snap at Maria when she’s informed that they’re meeting the second psychiatrist that day.
The walk is a little further but Skye keeps bumping her shoulder against Yelena’s to point out funny things happening. Yelena hadn’t even seen them because she was focused on casing threats, exits, cameras, and potential weapons. She never would have seen a guy walk right into a pole because he was so focused on watching a dog cross the road. Skye and Yelena had to stop because they were laughing so hard, spurring each other on. Maria waits patiently for them to collect themselves and Yelena thinks that there might be a small smile on her face too.
This psychiatrist introduced herself to all of them before her focus was solely on Yelena and Skye. Her office was much different than Ingrid and Damian’s.
It was kind of chaotic, like a tornado went off in a kids store. There was every type of toy that Yelena could think of in there.
The woman’s name was ‘Doctor Timothea Chambler’ but she said people call her Moth. “What do you think of my office?” She questioned.
“Dude, it looks like a toy store threw up in here,” Skye blurts out before her face turns red.
Timothea merely chuckles, no teasing in her tone. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to see it. You’re welcome to touch or play with anything you want.”
Yelena’s content to just watch as Skye stares at Timothea and picks up one of the dolls closest to her as if to test her.
Yelena thinks that Timothea probably won’t be a good fit either. They’re not children and all of this just seems so childish to her.
But then her eyes land on a collection of My Little Pony figurines in a clear container and she remembers being six on an airstrip in Cuba as her not-mom is taken away and her not-dad hands them over to General Dreykov on a platter.
Timothea must see her eyeing them. “You can touch them if you want.”
Yelena glances at her before peering at Maria hanging by the doorway. She slowly steps away from Skye’s side and approached the clear plastic bin.
She picks one of them up, carefully turning it over in her hand. It looked like a doll she used to tote around everywhere. “I used to have one of these.” She comments, the information absolutely useless and unable to be used against her but Yelena’s curious to see what she’d do with it. Damian would try to connect any information she gave her to her actions.
“Yeah? They’re pretty cool. Those ones used to be mine when I was a child,” Timothea comments and Yelena frowns slightly at the response. “Which one was your favorite?”
Yelena can’t remember their names. She remembers sitting next to Natalia eagerly on Saturday mornings to watch cartoons but memories of the cartoons themselves are fuzzy. “I don’t know.” She finally said.
“You can go through those,” Timothea speaks and Yelena turns to see Skye peeking curiously at a box of art supplies. “You can look through and touch anything in this room.”
Yelena carefully sets the toy in her hand down to gravitate back to Skye’s side. This whole thing feels like a test.
Skye flips through some of the coloring books, inspecting the pages.
“Would you like to color one?” Timothea inquired and Skye jerks her head up to look at her. “Why don’t you pick one out?”
“I’m not a child. I don’t color.” Skye tells Timothea, squinting at her suspiciously.
“You don’t?” Timothea sounds genuinely surprised and Yelena steps closer to Skye when Timothea nears them. “I find it relaxing. Did you know that they make coloring books for adults to help them calm down?”
Skye leans away from Timothea, pushing back against Yelena as Timothea picks the top coloring book off the stack and flips through it before carefully tearing a page out. Timothea then kneels at the tiny kids table on the ground, setting the page down, and picks up one of the crayons.
Skye and Yelena stare at Timothea in disbelief as the woman starts to color on the page. Yelena turns back to look at Maria but she doesn’t look concerned.
Yelena and Skye watch as Timothea colors in the sky a silvery-blue. It’s quiet and it feels a little unnerving.
Timothea then looks up at them. “What color do you think I should use for the grass?” She questioned.
“Purple.” Skye replies before Yelena does. Yelena’s eyes snap to peer at her in surprise before looking down at Timothea.
To her astonishment, Timothea picks up a deep purple and sets the tip down to the page.
It’s wrong. Grass isn’t purple. Timothea is doing it all wrong and it’s such a silly thing to get upset over but Yelena thinks of the Red Room.
She is a Widow and Widows are made of marble. Marble doesn’t have feelings and marble doesn’t make mistakes.
It’s wrong but nothing is happening. Timothea is still coloring the grass purple and Maria is still leaning against the wall next to the door and Skye is still standing stiffly at her side although she had begun to relax slightly.
Timothea is then coloring the bear sitting in the grass a warm brown but her arm jerks and there is a stray mark outside of the lines. “Oh dear, I’ve made a mistake.” Timothea comments.
Yelena can hear Skye suck in her breath and Yelena waits with her own anticipation to see what Timothea was going to do about it.
Timothea looks up at them and smiles. “It’s okay. Mistakes happen.” She said casually, as if making a mistake didn’t have the possibility to get you killed. Timothea could tear the page up and hide the evidence but she just picks the crayon up again and starts to keep coloring in the bear.
Skye finally kneels down at the small table to get a better look and Yelena follows her after a few moments of hesitation.
Timothea asks them to hand her colors of crayons. She then asks them to pick out colors for her.
Then the coloring page is finished and Timothea compliments them on their teamwork and asks if they want to try.
Timothea tears a new sheet from one of the books and slides it over to them.
Doing something so childish shouldn’t be so intimidating but it is. Yelena wasn’t allowed to do things like this and she still feels the unease of lingering dread that came with breaking the rules. Yelena glances over at Maria once again.
Maria inclines her head slightly telling Yelena that it was okay. Yelena’s the one to pick up the first crayon, grabbing the one closest to her. She glances up at Timothea who had grabbed a new coloring sheet and was working on it, her focus not on Yelena and Skye.
Yelena touches the crayon to the page but pauses, peering over at Skye. Skye seemed to be waiting for Yelena to make the first move and try it.
Yelena makes a single line on the paper and pauses again. She feels tense but the scent of her big sister that lingers on the sweater she wore helps keep her calm. Yelena slowly and methodically starts to color.
When Yelena finishes coloring in a tree, Skye picks up one of the crayons and scoots forward, her shoulder pressing against Yelena’s as she reaches out to try for herself.
Yelena and Skye color in the same page, Yelena going slow and careful while Skye scribbles fast like she’s going to be stopped at any moment.
Then Skye’s elbow bumps into Yelena’s and Yelena makes a stray mark on the page. Panic seized her and her first thought was to get rid of the evidence. She holds the crayon so hard that it breaks in half in her grip.
Skye froze as Yelena halted, her hand shaking as she gripped the broken crayon. “Tiny Dancer?” Skye asked quietly.
Timothea is still focused on her page although Yelena is almost sure that she knows Yelena has made a mistake.
Yelena’s eyes flicker up to peer at Maria and whatever the woman sees causes her to push off the wall and approach them. Maria crouches down next to them and holds her hand out.
Yelena reaches out, forcing her fingers to uncurl from the broken crayon and drops the two pieces into Maria’s outstretched palm. “I made a mistake.” Yelena murmurs to Maria in Russian although she’s not sure if Maria understood her.
Maria replies in one of the phrases she knows, that Yelena taught her. “You’re safe.” She said.
Timothea never acknowledges what Yelena did and the whole session ends not too long after that. Skye wraps her fingers around Yelena’s wrist in concern and Yelena’s too tired to shove her off because she can feel Skye’s fingers brushing the scars there.
On the way back, Maria takes them into a convenience store and to the case of ice creams they have in the back.
“You’ve both earned it,” Maria urges them to pick one out.
Yelena doesn’t want ice cream, she wants this lingering feeling of wrongness to go away. She wants Bobbi and she wants Natalia and she just wants to sleep through the night without being panicked.
She picks out a peanut butter one.