Chapter 2
“No, no. If you hold your hand that way, you’re gonna break your thumb,” Varvara tuts, grabbing Phoebe’s fist to uncurl her fingers and rearrange them so that her thumb wasn’t tucked against her palm.
Phoebe was with the three youngest girls and she wasn’t oblivious to the fact that she was essentially a glorified babysitter while the others plotted something she probably didn’t want to know about.
“Right,” Phoebe held up her newly arranged fist. “Like this?”
Daria gave her a thumbs up.
“So when you’re fighting, you don’t have to win,” Varvara said, straightening up as she recited something that was probably told to her before. “You just have to stay standing longer than the other guy.”
“You should always run before you fight if you get the chance,” Ksenia butted in.
Their attempts at teaching her to fight were endearing, especially because they were little ninjas and she was just some scrappy kid who used to end fights at school by shoving chests, tripping legs, and yanking on hair.
“What if they have a weapon?” Phoebe questioned and Varvara tilted her head to the side as she thought. Daria scribbled something down into the notebook she held and turned it around for Phoebe to read.
WHAT KIND?
“A knife,” Phoebe was pretty sure that there was a knife during the mugging. They at least flashed one at her although they never used it.
“Depending on the kind of knife, one side is usually sharper than the other. If you have to, try to grab at the dull side, and don’t use your fingers on the sharp side. If you’re going to cut yourself, go for your palm instead of your fingers. It’s too easy to cut off fingers,” Varvara lectured, wiggling her own fingers as if to prove a point. “Nia, go get me a knife.”
Phoebe doesn’t have time to protest before Ksenia disappeared and reappeared within a matter of moments with a switchblade. Varvara flicks it open with ease and held it up to Phoebe.
“See how one side is sharp?” She asked and Phoebe nodded her head. She tensed up as Varvara moved the blade toward her own hand.
“Is this really necessary?” She reached out to grab Varvara’s wrist and the girl looked up at her with a frown.
“You’re the one that asked,” she pointed out and Phoebe sighed.
“I never asked you to hurt yourself,” Phoebe wasn’t stupid enough to wrestle away the knife but she wanted the weapon out of the girl’s hand.
“I’m not gonna!” Varvara protested and before Phoebe could stop her, she gripped the blade of the weapon. “This is how you gotta hold it if you’re trying to control it. See how my fingers are on the dull end so it cuts my palm instead?”
Daria pinched Varvara’s shoulder, causing the girl to frown at her.
“You’re scaring Phoebe,” Ksenia chimed in and Phoebe opened her mouth to tell her that no, Varvara wasn’t scaring her, but then she thought about it twice and decided that maybe she was.
Varvara squinted at Phoebe before letting out a sigh and folding the knife back into itself. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“Yeah, I just… I was mugged two days ago with a knife,” Phoebe tried to explain and Varvara ducked her head down in shame, tossing the knife to the side. Phoebe hadn’t meant to upset her. “It’s fine. You didn’t know--”
“Yeah, no, it happens,” Varvara gave a halfhearted wave but Daria poked her cheek and Varvara slumped in on herself. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Phoebe reassured her, her chest unclenching with the knife gone. “Let’s just stick to our fists, yeah?”
“I thought we’d do guns next,” Varvara comments, and Phoebe’s eyes widened, wondering if she needed to get Yelena to reign her kids in before Varvara’s face breaks into a grin and she cackled. “The look on your face!”
“Don’t be mean,” Ksenia chided with a frown, poking at Varvara’s shoulder.
“Okay, okay,” Varvara straightened up, still giggling to herself. “Sorry, Phoebe.”
“Let’s take a break with fighting lessons,” Phoebe doesn’t think her heart could take the chaos that is Varvara Belova.
“And do what?” Varvara doesn’t seem too concerned with the change in topic, easily going with the flow.
“Uh,” Phoebe tried to think of what things that child soldiers would maybe like, unsure if she should suggest some of the dumb shit she did at their age or if they were better suited toward other things.
Varvara eyes her for a little too long, her mischievous grin falling slightly. “Do… do we scare you?”
Phoebe doesn’t even know where to begin. “Your whole family scares me.”
Varvara hunched in on herself a little, Daria scooting closer to her big sister’s side. Ksenia glanced at her with hurt and Phoebe waved her hands to try and dispel whatever got into their heads because she misspoke.
“No, no, no,” Phoebe quickly rebutted, shaking her head. “I mean--”
“We’re a family of assassins, I get it,” Varvara folded her arms, shrugging slightly as she looked away. Phoebe winced.
“Listen to me you doofus,” Phoebe said firmly and the girls flinched slightly so Phoebe softened her tone. “Your family scares me because of how much they just… love each other and go with the flow.”
Ksenia stared at her, squinting in confusion. “Love scares you?”
Phoebe let out a soft laugh. “Unconditional love like yours? Yeah. Every time that I thought I had that, I was mistaken. There was always a condition that I would somehow find and not meet.”
“Never?” Varvara inquired incredulously.
“No,” Phoebe pressed her lips together. “You’re very lucky to have a mom like Yelena, who would do absolutely anything for you. My mom doesn’t even speak to me anymore.”
“Why not?” Ksenia tilted her head to the side. “What did you do?”
Phoebe resisted the urge to snap at them that she didn’t do anything. “I came out to her.”
“Came out of where?” Varvara was looking back at her.
“The closet,” Phoebe said but upon seeing the three confused faces staring at her, she elaborated. “I told my mom that I was a lesbian. That I liked girls.”
Varvara blinked. “That’s it?” She asked, baffled. “You said that you like sucking faces with girls and she suddenly doesn’t love you anymore? How does that even work? You can’t just stop loving someone after you’ve raised them… right?”
Varvara glanced at her sisters who give equal shrugs of confusion.
Phoebe let out a soft sigh, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know. I had a little bit of time to pack my things before she kicked me out. So I guess… just seeing Yelena with Mischa makes me jealous but it also scares me at the possibilities of what could have been. Your mom just… loves people. And when she does, she just… loves with her whole being.”
“I thought that was what moms were supposed to do,” Varvara frowned slightly. “I don’t know, I’m not very well versed in moms.”
“Neither am I,” Phoebe shrugged. “I won’t lie and say that knowing you’re assassins doesn’t scare me but I do know that you’d never hurt me. I feel safer than ever when I’m with Mischa.”
Varvara clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Watch it, missy, that’s my sister you’re talking about.”
Daria elbowed Varvara’s side in reprimand and Varvara pouted at her.
Varvara wrinkled her nose. “I’m just saying, I don’t wanna hear about my sister sucking face with another girl.”
Phoebe felt her face heat up. “I’ll try to keep the face sucking to a minimum when you’re around,” she promised.
Varvara nodded. “Good. You better be nice to her.”
Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to give me a shovel talk?”
Varvara squinted at her. “I do not have a shovel.”
Daria poked at her shoulder and Varvara turned toward her. Phoebe missed whatever the girl signed but Varvara nodded slowly before turning back to Phoebe.
“Can I give my own sister a shovel talk?” She asked curiously.
“Uh… usually the shovel talk goes to the person dating your family member,” Phoebe said. “You basically say ‘if you hurt them then I will hunt you down and hurt you’.”
“Hmm,” Varvara hummed, glancing at her sisters before looking back at Phoebe. “Nah. I’m gonna be the first person to give my sister a shovel talk.”
“You’re going to warn her… not to hurt me?” Phoebe checked that she was understanding things correctly.
“Yup,” Varvara nodded, Daria and Ksenia following suit. “If something happens then I’m on your side.”
Phoebe let out a startled laugh. “What if I’m wrong?”
“Mmm, no…” Varvara shook her head. “You’re too nice to be mean to my sister.”
Daria and Ksenia once again nodded their agreement to Varvara’s statement.
“I can be mean!” Phoebe straightened up a little. “I used to get into fights at school all the time.”
“But you won’t hurt my sister on purpose,” Varvara declared with such certainty. “Because if you do then I will kick your ass.”
“I thought you weren’t giving me a shovel talk?” Phoebe raised an eyebrow, attempting to not show how intimidated the younger girl made her.
“Oh, that’s not a shovel talk,” Varvara shook her head. “That is…” She tapped a finger against her chin in thought. “A sister talk.”
“A sister talk?” Phoebe echoed in confusion.
“Yes,” Varvara nodded her head. “I give them to my sisters all the time.”
“She basically jumps on top of you and tells you that you’re being stupid,” Ksenia commented and Daria let out a solemn nod of agreement. “She has bony elbows.”
“But I’m not your sister…” Phoebe hesitantly pointed out and Varvara reached out and slapped her shoulder.
“You’re being stupid,” Varvara declared as Daria and Ksenia giggled. “Maybe you missed the memo but the moment you started dating Mischa, you suddenly got six sisters. It’s just the way it works in this family.”
“Oh…” Phoebe felt foolish for a moment. “Well, what about if I break up with her?”
“Are you planning on breaking up with her?” Varvara eyed her.
“No?” Phoebe had stuck with Mischa through thick and thin. If the reveal of being a child assassin didn’t phase her then she doesn’t think there was much else that could happen to break them up.
“Then I don’t see what the problem is,” Varvar shrugged, bumping her shoulder against the one that she had hit moments earlier. “If what you need is an official welcome then consider this it.”
“Welcome,” Ksenia grinned at her.
“You are a Belova now,” Varvara jabbed a finger at Phoebe just as Daria held up her notebook for Phoebe to see.
WE BELOVA’S LOVE UNCONDITIONALLY
“Thanks for entertaining the wee ones,” Mischa hummed as she climbed into bed that night.
Phoebe had been waiting, wondering when Mischa would return from her impromptu trip with Yelena. Her girlfriend still smelled like something dark and warm but there was an undertone of something metallic and ashy.
“Did you kill them?” Phoebe wasn’t going to beat around the bush and pretend that she didn’t know exactly what Yelena and Mischa had been up to.
Mischa was quiet for a moment, nestling up behind her to kiss the back of her neck. “Nah.”
“No?” Phoebe twisted her head to try and get a glimpse of her in the dark room, her girlfriend having not even turned the lights on when she returned.
“Nope,” Mischa shook her head, gently pressing her cheek against Phoebe’s ear to kiss her cheek. “I would kill for you. I would if you asked me to, I hope you know that.”
Phoebe knew that somewhere deep inside her. “But?”
Mischa took a deep breath, nuzzling her nose against Phoebe’s jaw. Phoebe knew her girl well enough to know that she wanted to say something but was unsure of how. She knew that Mischa would find the words or let the subject drop if she just waited so she turned over to face her girlfriend and draped an arm over her waist.
Mischa let out a little hum, playing with Phoebe’s hair as she thought.
“I don’t want you to feel bad,” Mischa finally said. Phoebe frowned slightly in confusion.
“About what?” She asked.
Mischa took a few more moments to piece together the words she wanted to say. “If I killed them… I think that some part of that would be on you. You did absolutely nothing but I know you,” Mischa gently poked Phoebe’s forehead. “I know the way you think. You’d blame yourself. And I never ever want you to feel that kind of guilt.”
Phoebe sat up slightly, looking into her girlfriend’s eyes, making out the slopes of her face through the dark. She was a little unsure of what to say but was aware that Mischa was struggling, waiting to be reassured that she made the right choice. Phoebe knew without a doubt that if she told her girlfriend that she wanted them dead then they would be deceased within a day.
But Phoebe realized that Mischa was right. If Yelena and Mischa had killed them then some part of her would feel guilty for their deaths. They had waved a knife around, stolen her things, and bruised her face and ribs. She had been terrified for a moment that they were going to kill her. But they were just people and Phoebe doesn’t think that she could not feel guilty with their blood on her hand, knowing that she had led to their demise.
Phoebe leaned up, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly and the tension drained out of Mischa.
“Of course,” Mischa breathed out, letting her dip forward to rest against Phoebe’s shoulder. “Nobody gets to hurt you and get away with it.”
Phoebe knew without a doubt that she was the safest girl in the world. Mischa would protect her.
“You’re so sweet,” she said, kissing the top of her girlfriend’s head softly.
“I’m not sweet, I’m tough,” Mischa mumbled into her shoulder and Phoebe laughed.
“Of course. My tough girl,” Phoebe combed her fingers through Mischa’s hair.
Mischa let out a pleased hum and Phoebe smiled fondly down at her. “I got your things back. They’re on the nightstand,” Mischa informed her.
Phoebe felt her heart swell with adoration for the girl in front of her.
“I love you,” she said and Mischa wiggled closer, pressing a kiss against her collarbone.
“Love you too, Phee,” Mischa doesn’t hesitate to reply, the response always sending a flood of warmth through Phoebe’s chest.
The next morning, a warm compress was dropped in front of Phoebe’s plate at breakfast and she looked up at Yelena.
“No more ice on that face,” Yelena said, ruffling Mischa’s hair as she passed to set a bottle of orange juice in front of Irina. “Press that against your face for fifteen minutes.”
Phoebe picked the compress up and gingerly pressed it again the bruises on her face, wincing at the heat before slowly relaxing into the warmth. She startled slightly when she felt Yelena’s fingers fondly muss her hair up as she passed back by her again.
She met Varvara’s eyes, witnessing the teenager wiggle her eyebrows with a smug grin as she mouthed the words “I told you so.”
Phoebe then recognized the mischievous look on her face and didn’t have time to warn Mischa before Varvara stood, slamming her hands on the table and glaring at Mischa.
“I do not own a shovel,” Varvara announced, the eyes turning to look at her. “And Ma will kill me if I attempt to bury you. But this is my shovel talk.”
Phoebe could see Yelena’s fond smirk out of the corner of her eye.
“Aren’t you supposed to be giving Phoebe the shovel talk?” Mischa asked, eyeing her sister warily.
“I like Phoebe better than you because she doesn’t lick my cheek to win during wrestling,” Varvara told her. “So I’m on her side.”
“I’m going to throw you into the creek when you sleep,” Mischa replied and Daria flicked a piece of cereal at her cheek in retaliation.
“Ma! Mischa is threatening to drown me!” Varvar hollered, turning her head to look at Yelena.
“Don’t start things you can’t finish, beautiful girl,” Yelena replied, an amused smile on her face.
Varvara let out a huff, sticking her nose up in the air. “You are so mean to me!” She declared before going back to glaring at Mischa. “Boo, you suck.”
Mischa held her middle finger up to her sister who let out a scandalous gasp.
“Phoebe, your girlfriend is so rude!” Varvara looked at her.
Phoebe let out a soft laugh, pulling the compress away from her face so that she could look at her girlfriend. “Don’t be rude to my sister.”
“Your sister?” Mischa raised an eyebrow and Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat for a moment, worried that she had gone too far when she saw the teasing grin on her girlfriend’s face.
“That’s right,” Phoebe gave a firm nod, glancing over at the redhead who was giving her a pleased grin which told her she made the right choice.
“I see how it is,” Mischa leaned closer to her and Phoebe felt her face get hot as Mischa’s face stopped inches from her. Her girlfriend was staring at her for a few moments before she lurched forward and blew a raspberry against Phoebe’s unbruised cheek.
“Mischa!” Phoebe laughed, pushing at her girlfriend.
“Sorry, it’s the rules,” Mischa said with a smug grin. “You side with Varvara then you get raspberries blown on your face."
Phoebe got to witness as Viktoria hooked an arm around Varvara to do the same thing, the teenager squealing in disgust as a giggle escaped her.
She watched the scene, sneaking a glance at Yelena who was watching with a soft fond smile on her face. There was nothing but love and adoration in the women’s eyes as she looked upon her children and Phoebe wished that she had that.
It wasn’t until Yelena met her gaze, the look on her face getting impossibly softer, that Phoebe realized the woman was looking at her with the same kind of gentleness that she did with her own children.
This was the woman that didn’t hesitate to get ready to kill someone for her. The one who cradled her face with a gentleness that Phoebe hadn’t experienced from anyone but her girlfriend in a long time. She had been oblivious to the maternal affection given to her just as easily as any other one of Yelena’s girls.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so safe and loved.
Her mother could go fuck herself. Phoebe was a Belova and she was home.