it was supposed to make me the greatest weapon of all time.
a story of natasha romanoff and her daughter, anastasia.
•••••
The red room was a place that Nat had wanted to forget the moment she escaped. But now... that's going to be hard. When ther...
"We're back," Yelena announces as she walks through the door. I hear Tony through the ear piece - telling me what we need answered. Yelena stands by the door. Anastasia hasn't moved since we were last here. She makes eye contact with me though - and that's more than what happened before. "Alright. You have two choices," Yelena discusses.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You can talk to us, tell us the truth and we will help you... or not talk to us and you can talk to Wanda - The Scarlet Witch." Yelena intentionally leaves out the part where Wanda said that she wouldn't hurt Anastasia. "Did Dreykov tell you about her? We are nothing compared to her power." "I don't know anything." She exclaims. "Start with her details. Name, age..." Tony tells me through the earpiece. Obviously, I already know these things. "Are you hungry?" I ask her gently. "We can get you some food, or some water if you need it?" "I'm... I'm a little..." she trails off. "It's okay, whatever you need, Yelena will get it for you." "I'm a little thirsty." She whispers. Yelena nods, leaving the room to get some water. "Stay on topic, Nat." As soon as Tony says that, I take the earpiece out and leave it on the bed, placing a pillow over it so that we can't be heard. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask her quietly. "What Dreykov did to you?" She glances up at me, her face empty, but I can see how she's remembering every ounce of hurt that she felt. I did too, once. Even now, if I allow myself to feel it, it just all comes back.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I sit with my knees up to my chest, back against the glass of the window, trying to plot my escape. But I look like her. She doesn't look like Dreykov told me she did. She doesn't have mean eyes like he said, she doesn't seem horrible or cruel. I have her eyes, I have her hair and the way her mouth curls upwards when she smiles. I look like her. And that throws me off. Because I was not supposed to meet her, I wasn't supposed to ever see her eyes. Dreykov told me that she'd chosen to leave me behind, that she didn't want to take me with her.
I'm surprised when she offers me water. Even more surprised when she takes out her earpiece to talk to me. "Do you want to talk about it? What Dreykov did to you?" The mention of his name sends memories flooding through my system, I can't stop them, can't switch them off.
