Widow of Siberia

Chapter 6

Besides the occasional small talk or joke, the journey Natasha and Bucky took to Russia was largely silent. With a carefully articulated conversation, Bucky managed to redirect Natasha briefly towards Sidorov's bunker rather than Novikoff’s labs. They needed to know what had been done to Vienna's mind if they wanted to have any idea of how to reverse it.

The bleak concrete tunnels were depressing to walk through. Even empty, the structure held an ominous aura that pressed down on Natasha’s shoulders. Her breathing caught in her throat every so often and her heart raced in her chest with each step further into the belly of the beast. Hands in a cold sweat, Nat nearly jumped out of her skin to see another person sitting at a steel table, flicking through piles of brown files.

“Jesus Melina!” Natasha exclaimed as Bucky’s hand left her back after shooting up to catch her as she flinched. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Black hair braided tightly to her head, Melina’s hazel eyes lifted calmly to meet her eldest daughter's surprised glare. Melina’s eyes were pale but not grey like Vienna's, but they were similar. The shape of them made Natasha’s blood run cold for just a second like she was looking into the Red Widow’s eyes again.

“I am clearly reading,” She said evenly, dropping her gaze back down to the papers in her hands again.

“Find anything?” Natasha asked, feeling her shoulders tense as she and Bucky stayed in the doorway to the large file room Melina was sitting in.

“Yes,” Melina told her simply, keeping her eyes down in the research reports.

With a frustrated sigh, Natasha's gaze moved around the room. For such a neat and organised woman, Melina was sitting in a mess of papers, strewn about across the table and over the floor. Some of them even looked like they had been thrown at the walls.

Moving over to one of the tossed files, Natasha knelt down to pick up the papers and start reading herself. Page after page detailed the death of a Widow killed in the Mind Oven. Death upon insertion. Death three weeks after alteration. Death from infection. Death during alteration.

“This is disgusting,” She muttered, throwing the file back onto the floor as she stood back up from her crouch. “You made this machine?”

“No.” Melina said sharply, flipping over a piece of paper. “I helped to design it, the machine is inefficient. It shouldn't have been used.”

“This one is about Vienna,” Bucky said, offering a brown card sleeve to Natasha through the tension of the conversation.

Natasha hummed, taking the file and opening it as Melina’s eyes lifted to watch Natasha with a nervousness that felt infectious. Melina didn't get nervous.

The file on the Red Widow’s alteration, as Sidorov always referred to it in his notes, was much thicker than a death certificate. A detailed description covered an alteration of her memories, feelings, and perceptions. Sidorov had infused some kind of extraterrestrial technology with the Mind Oven that let him see inside her head and watch Vienna's memories on a screen. The particular page Natasha was reading seemed to be about directing Vienna's rage, taking that bloodbath he found her in and sharpening it like a knife.

“Read something else,” Melina told Natasha as she kept her eyes down on her own paperwork.

“Why?” Nat asked, frowning as she lifted her gaze to her mother. “This is important, we have to understand how she thinks now.”

Melina paused and lifted her head. “You don't have to read that one.”

A sharp spike shot through Natasha’s chest, her frown deepening into worry as she looked for answers in Melina’s impenetrable expression.