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CHAPTER XXXV. Going Away
It had been two days since Sokovia fell. Two days since they'd fought Ultron to the bitter end, leaving the once-thriving city in ruins. Now, the news anchors cycled endlessly through images of destruction: families picking through rubble, children crying in the arms of exhausted parents, entire neighborhoods reduced to dust. Sokovia's people were desperate, scrambling to find new homes, new lives, as their country descended into chaos. The screen in front of Elina flickered with these scenes, and she forced herself to look away. She'd seen enough.
But even as she averted her gaze, the weight of it pressed heavily on her. No matter how many lives she saved, no matter how many heroic feats they accomplished, the losses still lingered like ghosts. She had been part of the devastation, part of the fight that brought both salvation and destruction. It was a bitter reality, one she hadn't prepared for when she first joined this world of superheroes and impossible battles.
Years ago, she wouldn't have blinked at the idea of death. In fact, she might have welcomed it, embraced the chaos that came with every fight. But something had shifted. The faces of the fallen haunted her now, their silent pleas for help etched into her mind. She wasn't the same person she used to be, and maybe that was a good thing. But it didn't make the weight of it any easier to carry.
Ahead of her, Natasha was in conversation with a small group of officials, her sharp eyes scanning every face, every gesture. Always vigilant, always calculating. But as Elina approached, Natasha's demeanor softened. She excused herself and turned toward her sister with a faint smile.
"Hey," Natasha said, her voice calm but curious. "You heading out?"
Elina nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. I've got some...unfinished business."
Natasha crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. "You helping Steve and Sam with their ghost?"
Elina hesitated, her eyes flickering toward the horizon before meeting her sister's gaze again. "No," she said quietly. "Thats in my past."
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a folded piece of paper, smoothing it with her fingers before holding it up. "I'm going back to Sokovia. Or at least, the area around it."
Natasha frowned, her eyes narrowing. "Why?"
Elina exhaled slowly, as if releasing a breath she'd been holding for hours. "I want to help," she said simply. "The survivors. The ones who lost everything." Her voice wavered, but she steadied herself. "I've been seeing a psychologist. She suggested I do something to make peace with all of this...guilt."
For a moment, Natasha said nothing, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded, a hint of understanding in her eyes. "That makes sense," she said quietly. "It's not a bad idea."
Elina studied her sister's face, searching for any sign of disapproval, but found none. "And you?" she asked, her tone light but curious. "What's next for the great Natasha Romanoff?"
A faint smile curved Natasha's lips. "I'm thinking of heading to New Haven," she said. "Just for a little while."
Elina's smile widened, genuine and warm. "Good. I'm glad you're finally taking my advice."
Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was affection in her voice as she said, "Don't let it go to your head. You get lucky sometimes, that's all."
Elina laughed softly, but her tone turned earnest. "It'll be good for you, Nat. Take a break. Maybe even get some act-"
Their laughter faded, replaced by a quiet understanding. Elina adjusted the strap of her bag and looked at her sister with a mix of pride and concern. "I'll be back," she promised. "I just need to stop in Washington first. Check on Alyse and the other kids. Maybe catch up with an old friend."
Natasha stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Elina in a rare, unguarded embrace. "Call me," she said softly. "I know we push everything down, but we don't have to do everything on our own."
Elina hugged her sister tightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know."
They pulled apart, and Elina gave Natasha one last smile before turning away. She slung her bag over her shoulder, flagged down a taxi, and headed straight for the airport. As she waited in the terminal, she pulled out her new passport, running her fingers over the name printed inside: Irina Sarokina. Another new identity, another chapter in her ever-changing life.
When her boarding call came, she stood, taking one last look at the bustling terminal. She clutched her boarding pass tightly and stepped onto the plane, her mind filled with memories of Sokovia and the people she was determined to help. She didn't look back. She couldn't. The path ahead was all that mattered now.
