Romanova [COMPLETED STORY]

6

Stark Tower, United States of America.
Natasha Romanoff POV.

She was lying. She was obviously not 17 if she knew about Stalingrad. I got a call from Linda saying I could pick her up now, so I did. She didn't seem to enjoy smiling alot either. I walked through the door and she jumped off the hospital bed and thanked Linda and a greeted me.

I took her upstairs to her room but on the way there we met the others in the living room.

"Who's this? Little sister?" Steve snickered.

"No, Steve. This is Nina. Her house was destroyed in Sokovia and I knocked her out. Tony's giving her a room."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"You're fine. Nice to meet you," she said.

"How old are you?"

"17."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Where are you from?"

"Volgograd."

"Hey, isn't that where you're from Nat?" He asked. Nina turned and looked at me with a suspicious look in her eyes.

"Steve, you know that's not it."

"Ah sorry. I don't really remember anything."

"It's fine."

"So where are you staying?" Bruce chimed in.

"She's taking the vacant room next to mine."

"That room is so nice!"

"Which is why she's getting it instead of one of you slobs."

Clint turned around and choked on the sandwich he was eating, he was going to blow this worse than Steve. "Who are you calling a slob?"
-
I showed her to her new room and her jaw almost dropped. She didn't like showing emotion either, but I could tell she liked it. Her green eyes shone in the bright lights and her red hair was shinier then ever. She thanked me and when I turned to leave, I felt a hand on my arm.

"Hey Natasha?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Are you from Russia?"

"No."

"Volgograd?"

"Sure."

"Sure? So you are?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm from Russia."

"I knew it," she muttered under her breath.

"What do you mean?"

"When I first met you, I could tell your American accent wasn't totally authentic. Sounded a bit like mine," she smiled.

"I guess so," I smiled back. She was a nice girl.

"Yeshche raz spasibo. (thanks again -Russian)"

"Dobro pozhalovat. (You are welcome- Russian)"

*May not be correct translation, I used Google translate sooo sorry if it's wrong.*

She waved at me and then I decided to give her some privacy. I walked back out into the common area and Tony was now sitting on the plush chair.

"Kid's okay?"

"Yeah, she's settled. Thanks again Tony."

"Yeah, course. Anyway, she's from Volgograd?"

"Yeah."

"She's got dead parents, a dead sister and a dead brother and law?"

"Mhmmm."

"You didn't think that maybe her sister was you and her brother in law was Alexi?"

"I didn't and I still don't."

"Really? The red hair? The green eyes?"

"Many people have red hair and green eyes. It doesn't mean anything."

"She knows about Stalingrad. She speaks Russian, just like you and the resemblance is uncanny."

"Millions of people know about Stalingrad, millions of people can speak Russian and there's resemblance, sure."

"And you still don't want to open your eyes to the obvious?"

"She would be 76. Does that look like 76 to you?"

"Does that look like 87 to you?" He motioned to me. He had a point. I don't think I looked 87 years old, did I?

"... Yes?"

"Cut the crap. You wouldn't think that maybe she went through the same thing as you?"

I never did think of that. What if all those years ago, she was the little red head girl who was standing in the window? What if?