A/N: Hey guys - sorry for the long delay and it's a short one, but gonna get better from here!
"Hey Pumpkin, wakey wakey!" Anya's eyes snapped open, and she groaned at the sudden burst of light. "We're here Pumpkin!"
The plump old lady Anya had sat next to for the trip lightly shook her shoulder as she began waking up. She shuffled in her seat and saw the bus driving into a large bus depot. She rubbed her eyes, and leant her head against the murky glass as the old woman began to talk again.
Seventeen hours. Seventeen hours on a bus with bad air conditioning and the old lady telling Anya about her grandchildren, all seven of them. The old lady was harmless, but she'd be happy whenever she didn't have to hear about Marisa, Marie, Marcus, Matthew, Michael, Madeline and Marshall again. Anya rubbed her neck as everyone began to filter off the bus. The old lady – she realised she'd never learn her name – offered her a piece of hard candy, and the young girl smiled.
"You do seem awful young to be travelling alone, Pumpkin. Where's did you say your mom was?"
"She's working." Anya mumbled, sucking the sweet. It was hardly a lie. "I'm here to meet my papa." The old lady nodded, and collected her purse and numerous carrier bags filled with New York mementos.
"Oh, before I forget. Here you go Pumpkin." The lady rummaged in one of her plastic bags. She pulled out a t-shirt with a famous New York taxi cab on the front.
"I got that one for Marshall, but it'll be too small for him by now. He's going to Stanford, y'know?"
Anya nodded again at the story, but smiled as she took the baggy t shirt. It would be too big on her, but she appreciated it. Soon, she managed to follow the crowd with her single backpack. She stood amongst the crowd of people, everyone filtering off to family, friends, or to catch another bus.
She rubbed her eyes again. It had been a long trip. She'd maybe walked seven miles away from the compound before catching a small inner-city bus into the heart of New York. She'd only come to the city a handful of times; Steve or Natasha firmly gripping her hand the whole time. She had to admit, the large crowds of people were overwhelming. She'd never seen so many people at once.
It had been surprisingly easy for her to buy the long distant bus ticket. She'd poured the money onto the counter, much to the teller's disapproval and raised brow. She'd made a quick story about going to visit her family. She doubted the teller cared or would remember her in particular. She'd counted the money before hand, and the swear jar contents could take her as far as Indianapolis without using up all the money – thankfully Tony kept the swear jar well stocked.
Now she stood in a bus depot, night creeping in around her, in an unfamiliar city, alone.
What her plan was...she wasn't sure. She needed to get away. She didn't belong at the compound anymore. The longer she spent there, the more she learnt about the Avengers and how the world saw them. They were everywhere – on the news, on TV, and in magazines. She'd stared wide-eyed when she saw a picture of Natasha in a magazine Wanda had bought from the supermarket.
The Avengers were heroes.
She was made to fight them. All she'd learnt her life was how to end them; that they stood in the way of the people she belonged to. Yet, for some reason, when Steve had rescued her from her room in the lab...the instructions they had imbedded in her just didn't work. She'd been made to hate them. To hate her own mother. Yet she couldn't. The more she spent with them, the further the voice in the back of her head went, telling her to end them.
She wanted to keep that voice away.
But they were heroes. And she was made to be their enemy. She was a weapon.
Weapons of mass destructions don't make good children.
Anya watched painfully as a girl younger than her ran past her and swung in the arms of a parent.
She felt so guilty, leaving like that. But her mama wouldn't have listened to her...she would tell her she belonged there, when she didn't.
Maybe they keep you there to keep control of you?
The little voice crept in, the voice she'd heard a lot in her life, the voice of the General, who still made goosebumps ripple over her arms, even now.
Rubbing her arms through her hoodie, Anya walked slowly through the crowd, until she reached the main doors and stepped out into the city.
8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8
"What do you mean she's missing?"
Wanda had panicked. More than she ever had.
She returned from the store, and gone to Anya's room. It had been empty. At first, she thought the girl had simply gone for a walk to stretch her legs. So she began setting up the ingredients, ready to bake. She looked around the compound; in the main living area, the cinema room, in Natasha's room, even outside down by the water's edge where Anya liked to venture.
It had been negative.
She had rushed back to the compound and shouted for Vision.
"She cannot have gone too far, she doesn't know anywhere to go." Wanda had said in a panicked voice. Vision had glided through the ceiling and gone as high as he could. His vision was impeccable, but he couldn't find a trace of the girl.
"Perhaps we should search the surrounding area on foot. She may have just walked too far."
The two remaining Avengers searched for any clue, any idea where Anya could have gone. But they found noting.
Wanda had tried to call Natasha straight away, not sure how to explain to the woman she saw as a mentor, that she had lost her daughter. She admired the woman, but also feared her slightly. And losing the girl certainly would invoke a fire. The call had failed the first three times; the mission being deeply covert as they scouted out for Rumlow. It was nearly seven hours later that Wanda managed to get through.
"What do you mean she's missing?"
Natasha's voice was ice and fire at once. But the shake in her voice may have been missed by some people, but Wanda heard it. She explained the situation, and Natasha told the young woman to check her bedroom again. Wanda stayed on the phone as she and Vision wandered around.
"I believe several pieces of clothing have been removed." Vision said, and Natasha's voice hitched over the phone.
"I'm coming back."
"But the mission-"
"Screw the mission; she's run away. Contact Maria, get as many ops as you can out now! We need to find her before someone else does! I need to find her!"
"Natasha, I'm so sorry-" Wanda's words were cut short as the line went dead.
8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8
Anya sat on the edge of the sidewalk, sipping on the blue slushie. Night had come in, but the streets were no less busy. Thankfully, not as busy as New York. She'd found the convenience store several blocks away, and bought herself a slushie and a hot dog. The food did not taste good at all, but the sweet syrup of the slushie compensated. For now, the hunger in her stomach had reduced.
As she slurped the last shaves of ice, the back of her neck seemed to tingle. She looked up from her paper cup and looked around. People walked past her and paid her no attention; a couple walked past hand in hand; a man stormed past yelling down his cell phone; a blonde woman across the street appeared to be reading a magazine as she sat on a bench.
No.
Her eyes weren't moving; they weren't reading the page. Anya licked her lips nervously, the edges tinted blue from the syrup.
That's when the blonde looked up, and stared Anya square in the eye.
Anya mumbled under her breath, as she dropped the paper cup. The last of the blue ice splashing over her sneakers. "Vot der'mo." Oh Shit.
YOU ARE READING
Operation Frostbite
Fanfiction(Natasha Romanoff daughter fic) "Weapons of mass destruction don't make good children." Hydra is no stranger to secrets. Their latest remains buried so deep no one knows it exists. Not even its own mother. Human experimentation comes at a price to...
