Revenge Turned Sweet

Chapter 3: The Soldier

•A/N: Winter Soldier theme^^ really adds to the experience. Translations are in bold under the paragraphs!•
•Chapter Warnings: Death•

December 2, 2013.
Kotlas, Russia.

"Goodnight," I call out from my bedroom door. Tonight, we celebrated. I'm unsure why, but it brings me so much joy to see my family happy. I helped mama with dinner and we all ate until we couldn't move. After eating a large meal, my family usually likes to unwind with a movie or some TV. After that, we all retire to our rooms.

"Прощание перед сном, Надя!" I hear my father call back, and I smile to myself. Of course, he wouldn't answer me in English. He's working on it, for work, but he doesn't want us to get in the habit of speaking it at home.
**"Goodnight, Nadya!"**

I walk to my mirror and brush my hair out, detangling all the knots accumulated from the windy Winter day. It falls just to my ribcage in soft waves that Mama always says that I inherited from Бабушка. I pull it back into a low ponytail before climbing into my soft covers. A sigh of content escapes me as my body relaxes against my mattress. My covers smell of lavender and jasmine, the smell of home. I smile slightly as I look around my room, our house is small, but it's perfect enough.
**Grandma**

My room is small, roomy enough for a queen-sized bed, but cozy. It feels like I'm sleeping in a holiday themed magazine with dark stained wood-paneled walls decorated with tiny string lights. Although there are some times when the cold wind creeps through the windows, it's welcomed. It makes all of us huddle under layers of blankets with warm mugs of tea.

"Надя?" A small voice comes through my bedroom door. "Можно мне войти?"
**"Nadya?" "Can I come in?"**

"Yes, Andrei, you can come in," I chuckle, knowing my little brother is probably just cold and wants to share blankets. He opens the door with trembling fingers, his little grip on the doorknob turning his knuckles white.

I sit up, alert to his fear-blown eyes. I climb out of bed and kneel in front of him. "Андрей? Что случилось?" I grab his tiny shoulders, prying his small hand away from the doorknob, and close it quietly. I rake my eyes over his slight frame, inspecting for any sort of wound or broken bones. I find nothing but wet stains on his chest from his tears. Staining the baby blue fabric navy and making the cloud print look like it's raining.
**"Andrei? What's wrong?"**

Tears come back to his big eyes, and his lip quivers. "Надя..." he cries as tears slip down his puffy cheeks.
**"Nadya..."**

"Ты плохо себя чувствуешь?" I mumble while pushing the palm of my hand up to his forehead. He doesn't feel warm.
**"Are you not feeling well?"**

He shakes my hand away. "Нет," he sniffles, "Я видел мужчину внизу!"
**"No," "I saw a man downstairs!"**

I let out a sigh as the adrenaline coursing through me dies down and washes away. "Andrei, no, there was no man. You had a bad dream," I reply to my brother's terror-stricken face. "Плохой сон, Андрей, кошмар," I explain to him trying to calm his trembling.
**"Bad dream, Andrei, a nightmare,"**

"No, Nadya!" He exclaims, taking me by surprise. "There's someone down there. He's wearing a mask. He asked for you."

My brows shoot up at his confession. "This man...y-you spoke to him?"

He nods weakly. "Мне страшно, Надя," he quavers.
**"I'm scared, Nadya,"**

I pull him into a hug by his shoulders. "It's okay, I promise," I whisper to him. "You stay here, lock the door behind me, okay?" I stand up and walk around his small frame to open the door. "Андрей!" I hiss, getting his attention. "Don't let anyone else in but me, okay?" I raise my brows at him until he nods. I amble down the narrow stairs, careful of the spots that creak when stepped on.
**"Andrei!"**