Topic: A Moment Lost

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:12 EST

They weren't supposed to be here. Technically, they didn't exist at all, but they really weren't supposed to be here. Nikolai Petrov was still a hunted man, though the Russian authorities had nominally accepted that he was also a free man. But Alyona had talked Natasha Romanoff into giving her the approximate location of his wife's grave, and now they had finally been let off the leash, she'd made Russia their first port of call. It was his home, and it had been hers briefly during her nomadic adolescence. He needed to say goodbye to his Lillia. Alyona would take the inevitable scolding just to be able to give him that sense of closure. So here they were, in the woods outside Vyshny Volochek, with the smell of herring on the air promising a painful blizzard not far behind. Lillia's grave was unmarked, almost imperceptible unless you knew what you were looking for ....a small wreath of twisted hazel that was the only clue anyone lay beneath this dark ground.

Nikolai had never been given the chance to say good-bye, and he'd never been to his wife's grave. He had no idea how Natasha Romanoff had learned of its location, nor did he care. There was nothing he could do for his Lillia now but pray for her soul, and yet, he had never been much for prayer. Even so, he knelt down near the wreath that marked her grave and bowed his head as if in prayer. There was a storm coming, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil he was feeling in his heart.

Alyona stood quietly at his back, wishing she could help in some way. She loved him; he knew she did, but she had never asked for anything from him in return. To him, she was barely more than a child, despite the trauma of what should have been her childhood, and yet, in spite of that trauma, she only wanted what was best for him. Thus they were here, behind enemy lines, risking everything for this last goodbye he had been denied too many times.

He knew it was risky coming here for both himself and for Alyona, but he wasn't the same man Hydra had captured once upon a time and tried to turn into their tool. He'd been a KGB agent once, until they'd tried to turn him into a weapon. Unfortunately for them, they had not only turned him into a weapon, but they had made him their enemy, as well. After a while, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small object, which he then laid upon her unmarked grave. It was something that had once belonged to her; something he no longer needed. He moved at last to his feet, no words spoken but those in his head. "Proshchay, Lillia," he whispered. Good-bye. Left behind on her grave was a simple string of prayer beads the faithful called a rosary.

His life could have been so different, if he had just defected sooner. But the past was the past, and Hydra could no longer hurt his wife, buried these last thirty years or more. She was at peace. A few steps away, Alyona opened her eyes to look over at Nikolai, concern in her eyes as she watched him. There was no hurry. She was confident they could protect themselves if it came to it.

But there was nothing more he could do and no reason to linger further. There were no tears in his eyes; he was well past tears, though his heart was heavy with grief. The men who'd destroyed them were long since dead, but there were plenty of Hydra members to take their place. It was they who would reap the whirlwind they had sowed with their malevolence. "It is done. There is nothing more I can do," he said, the sound of his voice betraying his grief and rage.

Slender fingers slid into his hand - the metal hand he'd hated for so long, the hand she had never been afraid of and never ashamed to touch. "We should go," she said softly, tilting her head in that odd way that said she was hearing something beyond the reach of his ears. "There are ....people ....near us. Not military, but ....what they do not see will not harm them."

He nodded his head to acknowledge he'd heard and understood, silently drawing comfort from the touch of her hand to his, even if that hand was not made of flesh and blood. It seemed ironic in a way that she should touch that part of him that was no longer human and that touch would still give him comfort. He knew in his heart that this was his one and only good-bye; that he was never coming back here again.

"And there is snow coming," she added in a wry tone. Of course there was. Even in summer, a blizzard could hit this part of Russia within an hour of being detected and bury it for a good day or so. "Come." She stepped away, holding his hand in her own as she moved back through the trees to where they had left their vehicle.

He didn't need to say anything, but only followed silently at her side, looking like any other ordinary couple who might visit the cemetery, though they were nothing of the kind. She needn't tell him that snow was coming - he could smell it in the air, see it in the way the sky was growing dark with storm clouds, sense it in the cold that hung in the air and caused their breath to turn to vapor with every breath.

Alyona did not force words into the silence. For someone who lived with the constant buzz of people's thoughts and intentions filling her mind, she understood the value of quiet very well indeed. When he was ready to talk again, he would, though he was hardly the most talkative of people at the best of times. All she could do, what she would do, was be close and quiet, and ready for his words when they came. She flashed him a faint smile as they walked, barely aware of the low hum growing deeper in the air above them ....until the missile hit their truck and blew it sky-high in a hail of flame and debris that threw them back against the cold ground.

Thankfully, Nikolai heard the low hum of the missile before it arrived, and he threw Alyona to the ground, shielding her with his own body. Someone had obviously tracked them there. It didn't take a genius to figure out who, but there was no time to worry about that now when they had more important things to do, like escape with their lives intact.

Knocked down onto the hard, cold ground, Alyona cried out, feeling the blast of heat wash over them both as Nikolai landed atop her. The minds she had been aware of were panicking, proof that they were not behind this attack ....but there were others closing in. She couldn't get a clear read from them without seeing their eyes, but she knew they were hostile. "They are coming."

There were only two options available to them - three, really if they'd had more time, but for all practical purposes, two - run or stand and fight. "Run!" Nikolai ordered, moving to his feet and pulling her up with him. He'd carry her if he had to, but he didn't think that was necessary just yet. If they could put some distance between themselves and their pursuers, they might be able to shake them and call for pick-up.

Dragged up onto her feet, she fell into step with him, falling behind purely because her legs were not so long as his. "This way!" she called, touching his back as she veered off, away from the gathering closeness of those intent minds that were looking for them. Minds that were not the only sign of their approach, as the sound of vehicles and shouted voices signaled the arrival of Hydra.

Finding themselves surrounded and outnumbered, there wasn't much choice anymore but to fight. Nikolai knew better than to make a peaceful visit to his wife's grave without coming prepared, knowing there was a chance Hydra was watching and hoping to recapture their little experiment gone rogue or exterminate him. Alyona was just the icing on the cake for them, but Nikolai had no intention of being taken again. When escape was no longer an option, then it was time to fight. He came to a halt and turned, his back to Alyona's, wasting no time in yanking the assault rifle from his back and opening fire on the enemy.

At his back, Alyona kept close, as ready to fight as he was. She might seem to be unarmed, but as the soldiers who charged from in front of her quickly discovered, that did not mean she was harmless. Red tendrils of energy burst from her hands, blocking bullets, throwing men and women against one another and into trees, disarming them almost before they had a chance to arm themselves against her. Without thinking, she bound her mind to Nikolai's, letting his superior knowledge of fighting guide her as together they worked to clear their path of enemies.

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:13 EST

He was indiscriminate in finding his targets, making no distinction between male and female. They were all enemies, after all, and all a threat to his and Alyona's well-being. Bullets flew in every direction, and once he and Alyona managed to cut down the main assault, he tossed a couple of grenades aimed at the trucks, but leaving one intact to use for their escape. Linked to Alyona's mind, she would be able to read his thoughts and anticipate his every move, proving theirs not only a capable partnership, but a deadly one. Bullets pinged off his metal arm, the flak jacket protecting his chest. He felt a couple of bullets impact his right shoulder and upper thigh, but ignored the pain by force of will.

Together, they worked their way toward the truck, but there were too many Hydra agents still active for either one to break off and enter it. Add that to the fact that Alyona couldn't drive - Niko would have to be the one to break off first, and they had no idea how long she could hold off a sustained attack.

"Come on!" he called to Alyona, as he tried to blast his way toward the truck. Reading her thoughts, he knew that even with their enhanced capabilities, they weren't going to make it, and he was visibly limping now, despite his determination to ignore the pain. He turned again, as they neared the truck, shouting another order her way, "Shield me!"

In a matter of seconds, she switched her focus from attack to defense, both of them encircled in a perfect sphere of glimmering, transparent red. Each bullet impact played out over its surface as she struggled to hold it in place. Training had never accounted for such a focused attack when she was the only one shielding. If they got out of this, she was going to have to sweet-talk Tony into letting her train with his Iron Legion.

She didn't have to hold onto it for long though, as Nikolai wasted little time in using the very enhancements Hydra had given him against them. He threw up his metal hand toward them, mentally throwing a wave of energy toward them that flipped the remaining trucks, causing another explosion and leveling everything in their path, but for the one he and Alyona were standing in front of. It wasn't the same kind of ability that Alyona exhibited, but a form of telekinesis, allowing him to move people and objects with only his mind and his will power, as easily as child's play.

It didn't come a moment too soon. As the trucks flipped, Alyona's shield failed, a stray bullet swiping along her cheek to impact into the bodywork of the truck at her back. "We drive now, yes?" she asked hopefully, breathing hard. What looked so easy was exhausting.

"Yes!" he shouted back, not bothering with the Russian. He shouldered his weapon and grabbed hold of her arm, yanking her toward the truck. Painfully or not, they had to get out of there and soon, before reinforcements arrived - and they would, if they waited too long. He climbed into the truck, taking the driver's seat, frowning only momentarily to find the driver had taken the keys, though that wasn't much of a problem for someone who could toss trucks around like they were toys. It took a bit of effort, but he had the engine turning over in two tries and wasted no time in getting them out of there.

She knew he didn't mean to, but there was a small part of Alyona that resented being flung around like a toy doll. It wasn't only Nikolai who did it - Steve did it, too; even Nat and Tony had done it on occasion. Everyone seemed to think that she was somehow incapable of moving while using her mind, always overeager to protect her. Right now, though, it didn't matter. As Niko revved the engine, she rose onto her knees, turning her attention onto the road at their back. The ground erupted, destroying the easy way they traveled to ensure that even if Hydra did manage to pursue, they would never be able to keep up.

He didn't take the road. The road was too obvious and too easy for them to follow, instead choosing to cut a trail through the trees. He was dimly aware that he was wounded and bleeding, but for the moment, that wasn't important. What was important was escaping. "This was a bad idea," he said, blaming himself. If he hadn't been so insistent on visiting his late wife's grave, they never would have been followed. Then again, it was an interesting way to flush Hydra out.

"This was my idea," she reminded him, dropping down into her seat to rummage through the glove compartment. "The snow will strike soon. We need cover." From the depths of the compartment, she produced a field med-kit with a certain amount of triumph. "I could try contacting someone. I haven't done it over such a long distance before."

Her idea or his, it was still a bad idea. What had they accomplished here exactly, besides getting shot at' Sure, he'd been able to say good-bye to Lillia, but that didn't change the past or what had happened to her all those years ago. "Look for an abandoned cabin or some place where we can take shelter," he told her, while he focused on steering the truck through the trees.

"We'd be too easy to find in an abandoned ....wait." She paused, tilting her head. There was a familiar feeling to the mind she had just brushed with her own ....familiar enough to make her smile. "Stop the truck," she told him firmly. "We are walking from here."

"Walking where?" he asked, as he looked for a place to park the truck where it wouldn't be easily seen. As well as he knew Russia, it had been a long time since he'd been here and a lot of things had changed.

"To hide in plain sight," she said with a faint smile, tucking the med-kit into her coat. She glanced at him with a faint smile. "There is a mind out here that I know, a mind I grew up with. If nothing else, he'll hide us until we are fit to move on safely."

Here, in Russia, in what could be defined as the "middle of nowhere?" And yet, she seemed sure. He touched metal fingers to his right shoulder, his glove coming away bloody, and frowned in concern. And that was just from one bullet. They weren't going anywhere until he was able to dig those bullets out. "It's not safe here," he pointed out, though he was in no position to argue.

"It will be," she promised him softly. "Come." As soon as the truck was parked, she was out, moving to help him onto the ground as the snow began to fall. The wind was picking up, but she was confident they did not have far to go. Wrapping his arm about her shoulders, she guided him westward through the trees, glad they were not leaving footprints behind. In a matter of minutes, any sign of which direction they had gone would be buried beneath the storm almost upon them.

Despite his enhancements and extraordinary resilience, he was limping along at her side, keeping any complaints he might make to himself. There was no time for such things now, and he had no desire to end up in a deep freeze again, either because of Hydra or a snowstorm and then there was Alyona's safety to consider. "Where are we going?" he asked, through gritted teeth.

"To someone who used to be my father," she told him gently, pushing branches out of his face as they went. Through the trees ahead came the sound of voices - men and women calling to one another in Russian. A small group, by the sound of it, and as they came closer, by the look of it, too. Alyona had brought him to a small encampment of Romani vardos, five in total, circled together to wait out the coming storm.

One of the women saw them first, fear flashing across her face as she called to her companion. He, however, took one look, and a roguish grin crossed his face. "Alyetchka!"

Apparently, to Niko's surprise, these people knew Alyona and seemed to welcome her like family. He understood the Russian that was being spoken around him, as it was his native tongue. He and Alyona and even Natasha sometimes fell into Russian out of habit, and Tony Stark had once complained that the Avengers were being taken over by the Russians. "Who are these people?" he whispered to Alyona, sounding more weary and in pain than he'd intended.

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:14 EST

"Do you remember, I told you I lived as a Roma for six years?" she reminded him softly in answer. "This is my family." Not her blood family, but the people who had taken her in when she was just a child, who had raised her and helped her to understand who and what she was. Though they had not parted on good terms, it seemed as though they were happy to see her again.

"Tabor," Alyona greeted the older man who came to them. "We need shelter. We can protect you if they find us, but ....the storm ..."

Tabor seemingly needed no further assurance. He nodded, turning his head to give orders to the family group around them, and within just a few minutes, Nikolai and Alyona had been ushered into one of the vardo as the wind picked up outside.

Still conscious, but in visible pain, Nikolai said nothing, grateful for the help and the offer of shelter. Was it merely a coincidence that they happened to be camped nearby when they needed them or was it more than that' "Spasibo," he muttered his thanks in their native tongue, slipping easily into Russian.

Understandably, none of the family wanted to be in the same vardo as they were. Even Tabor, who was more inclined to trust the little girl he'd taken in all those years ago, didn't want to be so close to them if they were being hunted. Alyona, however, didn't seem to mind it. She helped Niko onto the narrow bed, turning to pull off her coat and build up the fire in the little stove that heated the cramped space. "When the storm passes, they will want to know why we are here," she warned him. "We will have to decide what to tell them."

"The truth is probably best," he admitted, fighting the pain to get his weapons and coat off, but leaving the flak jacket in place, just because it was too much of a pain to try and get it off. "Are you hurt?" he asked in concern. He hadn't noticed her bleeding, but that didn't mean she wasn't hurt.

She shook her head, though the frozen blood on her cheek said otherwise. The bullet had only scraped her cheekbone, though; it wasn't a dangerous wound. "Where are you hurt?" she asked him in return, rising to her feet to set a pan of water onto the stove to heat through. She knew this vardo like an old friend, it was plain to see. Perhaps this was even where she had grown into a woman.

"Arm, leg," he replied. Though they weren't life-threatening wounds - at least, not if they were treated properly - they still hurt like hell and slowed him down. "How is your family here?" he asked, wondering again if it was just coincidence or something more. Maybe they had sensed her presence or her theirs, in some subconscious way.

"They travel through Russia," she shrugged, perching on the edge of the bed to help him remove the flak jacket. "I did not realize how long it had been since I last saw them. They cross the country every three years or so. I came here with them once, about four years ago." She smiled, her hands gentle despite his injuries. "I am glad they are still traveling."

"Russia is a big place," he pointed out, helping her as much as he could to get the jacket off. He hoped they were safe here because his injuries were making them a little too vulnerable for his liking.

"It is," she agreed, tilting her head as she considered him. "They are not a trap, Nikolai. They accepted me as their family; there is no greater wrong than to turn against family. Do you understand" We are safe with them."

"I have no family," he pointed out, but he understand what she was trying to say. He wasn't questioning whether or not they were safe with them, only how strangely coincidental it was that they were here. "I trust you, Alyona," he told her, and in doing so, he trusted her people, as well.

"You are with me," she told him firmly. "You are mine, in their eyes. That makes you family. Now hold still." She concentrated, feeling her way carefully into his wounds with the coiling crimson that betrayed her own form of telekinesis to find and remove the bullets that were still embedded in his flesh.

"And in your eyes?" he countered, gritting his teeth, his body tensing, as she dug around inside his flesh with or without any tools but her own abilities to find the hunks of metal that were causing him pain.

It was faster, and cleaner, this way, the bullets soon decorating her palm rather than buried in his body. Fresh tendrils of energy padded out each wound as she reached for alcohol and water to wash out each as she went before turning her attention to bandaging him. "You know what you are in my eyes," she told him softly. "That has not changed, and it will not change."

He seemed to relax and breathe a bit easier once she had the bullets out and was cleaning and bandaging the wounds. This pain was nothing compared to what Hydra had put him through, and yet, it was proof he was still mostly human. "We make a good team," he told her with the hint of a smile on his face.

"We make a scary team," she agreed with a smile of her own, glancing up at his face briefly as she worked on his leg. "Up." She patted his knee, urging him to raise his foot onto the bed so she could bandage about his thigh more easily. "I need more training. I should be able to shield more than myself in a fight."

"You did well," he praised her, turning to lift his leg onto the bed, as she'd indicated. She'd done more than well, in fact, but they could always use more training - both of them. There were things he wanted to say to her that were more of a private nature, but he wasn't sure this was the time or the place.

She raised her head, glancing up at the roof that was so nearby as a gust of wind rocked the vardo gently. "It will be a long cold night," she predicted in a confident tone, tying off the bandage about his leg easily. "But the sun will come out tomorrow. It will be as though the snow never fell by noon."

He didn't bother to ask if they'd be safe there, as she'd already assured him of that. Instead, he waited until she was finished bandaging his leg before he reached over to touch the fingers of his human arm to her cheek. "You are my only family, Alyona," he told her, though that wasn't quite true. He had the Avengers or AEGIS or whatever they were calling themselves now, but he didn't really feel close to any of them the way he did her.

She stilled, surprised by his unexpected touch. It might have seemed odd, that a telepath could be surprised at all, but he knew she worked hard on not violating the minds of the people she knew and trusted, even unconsciously. A soft smile touched her lips as she caught his hand, squeezing gently. "And you are delirious with pain," she pointed out, afraid to accept any hint of closeness he might offer that could be spurred on by their situation. "Let me bandage your shoulder."

He thought about asking her right there and then if she'd like to become his family permanently, to share his name and his life. It wasn't a sister he was hoping for, but something far closer, far deeper, and yet, he'd only just said good-bye to his Lillia - a woman who'd been his wife, but who'd died many decades before. In some ways, it felt like he'd only just lost her, and at other times, it seemed like a long time ago. He let her bandage his shoulder silently, without any further talk to distract him. Though he did not deny he was in pain, he was not delirious, as she said.

"Here." When she was done, she rose again, pulling painkillers from the med-kit she'd pilfered to hand to him. "They should help. Tea?" It was unlikely there would be any coffee here, but tea as in abundance. That was why she'd been heating water. "You need clean clothes, too. There will be something in here that should fit you."

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:14 EST

"Da, spasibo," he replied, drifting back and forth into their native Russian. "Do you miss your life here?" he asked curiously, while she went about making tea and he tried to make himself comfortable.

She glanced over her shoulder with a warm smile as she set the leaves to steep in the little pot. "Sometimes," she admitted. "It was a hard life, but an honest one. No one hurt me for not being exactly what they wanted. I was ....happy ....I suppose. I have not really thought about it." As she spoke, she knelt down, opening one of many compartments set into the walls of the vardo, the reason the space within felt so cramped. From inside, she produced fresh clothes for him, tossing them over. "I will pay Tabor for what we use," she promised. "And he knows it."

So, the man hadn't offered them refuge solely from the goodness of his heart so much as he wanted something in return. Payment of some kind, probably monetary. So much for the kindness of strangers. "And now?" he asked further. "Are you happy now?"

"It is my experience that, when you grow up, you stop being happy." Alyona shrugged, her soft smile never faltering. "No one I know who is full grown is truly happy. No one but Mr. Storm, I think, and I do not think he is fully grown in his head."

"Perhaps," Nikolai admitted, though he had a slightly different perspective on it. "Or perhaps we are too serious." Or maybe Johnny just hadn't suffered tragedy the same way that they had. Wouldn't they be surprised to know he had suffered his own share of that' Maybe he was just a lot better at not thinking about it or letting anyone see his pain than the rest of them. "I think perhaps you confuse Mr. Storm and Mr. Stark," he said with that hint of a smirk again.

She snorted softly, pouring the tea into a pair of cups she had unearthed from another tucked away cupboard. "Mr. Stark is an unhappy man," she insisted quietly. "He does not like to think anyone can see it, but he is afraid of doing the one thing that will make him happy."

"And what is that?" he asked curiously. Now that she'd mentioned it, he couldn't help but ask. "They are exact opposites, Storm and Stark," he remarked further. He hadn't been around the pair very long, but long enough to notice the difference in the two men.

Alyona's smile turned a little secretive. "Ah now, if I tell you that, you must promise me that it will not go further," she pointed out, proving that, for all her good intentions, she did skim a little off the minds of the people she lived and worked with. She handed him his cup, perching on the edge of the bed once again.

It wasn't often he was privy to gossip, though he wasn't sure if this counted as gossip so much as insight into the nature of his teammates - or at least, one of them. "Who would I tell?" he asked, which was a good question considering he had really become close friends with any of them, except maybe Natasha.

"True." She nodded, toeing off her boots to draw her feet up onto the bed comfortably as she sipped her tea. "Mr. Stark will not be happy until he he admits what it is he truly wants ....a family. And to have that family, all he has to do is commit to Ms. Potts. She wants him to."

"Perhaps you should tell him that," Nikolai suggested as he wrapped his human hand around the cup, savoring its warmth before taking a sip. He had a feeling Tony Stark didn't want any advice from either of them, especially with regards to his love life. "What about the others?" he asked, curious what tidbits she picked up from the other team members and even himself without really trying to.

She giggled softly, wondering how this turned into a friendly gossip. "Natasha ....knows how to keep me out," she admitted. "She let me in once, to show me who she was, and never again. Mr. Richards is always working. Even when he sits and talks about ordinary things, his head is full of numbers and ideas."

"Mmm," he murmured as he sipped the tea and listened to her talk, the sound of her voice strangely soothing, as was the mundanity of the topic of conversation. Would their lives resemble anything like normal again? "And the others?" he asked further.

"Sam is obsessed with Earth, Wind & Fire," she mused. "Their music is always in his head, no matter what he does or says or thinks. The captain ....he is a little bit broken. He wants to be with his family, but he wants to fulfill a promise he made decades ago to a man who would not have held him to it if he had known Steve would have a family in the future. There is confusion, always, and guilt."

"Earth, Wind, and ..." Nikolai trailed off, looking a little confused. He didn't quite understand that reference, until she explained. He hadn't completely caught up on the history and culture of the last few decades just yet. He arched a brow as she spoke of the captain, even as he took another sip of the tea. "That is understandable, but things change. Can't he speak with this person' Explain?"

She shook her head sadly. "He died," she told him simply. "He was the man who made Steve what he is, who believed in him. He died in his arms. There is no way to convince the captain that his mentor would have wanted him to step back. He knows it, but he does not want to let the memory of the man down."

"Perhaps there is," Nikolai mused aloud, but it would mean getting into the captain's head and he suspected neither Alyona or Captain Rogers would agree to that. He didn't ask about any of the others, as he didn't know them well. The one known as Hawkeye was rarely around, like the captain busy trying to raise a family and keep them out of harm's way. That gave him another thought though. "Storm and Barton, they do not seem to have these problems."

"Clint has retired more times than he can count," she offered with a faint grin. "But his family always comes first. If the call went out, and his wife or children needed him to stay, he would stay without question. Mr. Storm ....what we do is not a large part of his life. It is something he does only when asked. He has his own job in the town where he lives, and he enjoys it."

"Perhaps the captain has an over-active sense of honor and duty," Nikolai suggested. He had similar tendencies himself, being a former KGB agent, but he and Lillia had always dreamed of having a family one day, so he could understand that desire, too.

"Perhaps he does," she said softly. "The doctor does not tell him when she is struggling, though. He does not know he is so needed at home, because she believes it would be wrong to take him away from duty."

"There is nothing more important than family, Alyona," Nikolai said, knowing this first hand. Having lost everyone he'd ever loved, he knew this well, though the captain must know this, too. "I wonder if there is any way you could make him understand that this ....other person ....would not want him to be unhappy."

"I do not know," she admitted thoughtfully. "I think he knows, deep down. But he has not thought about it; he has not thought about why he is so devoted to duty and responsibility. I do not know if I am the right person to encourage those thoughts."

"Then, I suppose he must realize it for himself," he said with a small shrug that he immediately regretted as it made his shoulder ache. "Lillia and I wanted a family," he said, though he wasn't too sure why he was mentioning that now, except that he, too, wasn't sure if it was possible to juggle family life and this one.

Alyona's smile turned sad as he mentioned this. Lillia's hope for a family, the reason they had mutually decided Nikolai should defect; the catalyst, it seemed, for all the tragedy that had befallen them. "If she were here now, would you still have that same wish?" she asked curiously.

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:15 EST

That was a question he had not dared ask himself. What was the point of it' Lillia was dead, and Hydra had turned him into a monster, or so he believed. Even if by some strange quirk of fate, he and Alyona were to become more than just friends, he was not sure there was room in their lives for a child, not while Hydra still existed in the world. He was not even sure if it was physically possible for him to father a child, and then there was the arm to worry about. "There is no going back, Alyona," he told her, sadly, not really answering her question.

Her head tilted as she looked at him, sharing his sadness. "I did not know hate, until I escaped from them," she said softly, looking down at her teacup. "My childhood was theirs to shape, and I thought all children lived that way. Then I met Tabor Pietrovich, and his family, and I learned how to hate Hydra for what they had taken away from me. I don't know how much they took away from me. I am scared, I think, of asking, of knowing. You asked me once how I can hurt our enemies. You think I am sweet, harmless girl then. Hate is power, and I have a lot of hate. Not just for what they have done to me, but for what they have to you, and to everyone I love."

If there was one thing he'd learned from all this was that to give in to hate was to become like them. "You cannot give in to the hate, Alyona," he told her, reaching over to touch her hand, as if to remind her that, despite everything they'd been through, they were still human, with a human heart and human soul. "To give in to the hate is to become like them. We fight, da, but we fight to stop them from hurting anyone else."

Her hand turned beneath his, drawing her fingertips over his palm, enjoying the warmth of his touch. "What stops the hate from taking over?" she asked quietly. "I do not know if I can win this fight inside me. You say we make a good team. I do not want to know what happens if I lose myself."

"We remember those we love and why we loved them, and we never forget our humanity," he replied, knowing it sounded a lot easier than it was. It was easy to hate, and hating made it easy to kill, but he had learned in the last few months since being awakened that justice and vengeance were not the same thing. It was something he was still trying to put into practice.

"And what do we do when those we love do not love us?" she asked, her voice barely more than a breath in the quiet of the vardo, almost lost beneath the sound of the wind outside. "When we are impossible to love ourselves?"

He arched a brow at the unexpected question, unsure if she was referring to anyone in particular or just in general. "We do not give up hope," he told her, though he knew that, too, was not easy. It was, perhaps, even harder than everything else. "I gave up hope once," he admitted. "I did not think I would ever be free, but here I am," he said, giving her hand a squeeze. He'd paid a high price for that freedom. In a way, he'd paid for it with Lillia's life, and he had his own burden of guilt and regret to deal with.

"Here you are," she repeated, with an almost rueful quirk of her lips. She drew in a slow breath, expelling it forcefully as she made an effort to smile more naturally, drawing her knees up to rest her cup against them. "Freedom is harder than people think it is."

There could be an argument made for whether or not they were truly free. Were they indentured and indebted to the Avengers and A.E.G.I.S. or were they truly free to make their own decisions and build lives for themselves outside the agency, as some of the others had done" And if they ever did decide to walk away, what would they do' Their lives had been changed forever by what they had become. Did they, like Steve Rogers and some of the others, share a responsibility to protect those who could not protect themselves" Nikolai believed they did because if they didn't, who would"

"No one is ever truly free, Alyona." Even those who thought they were free were still indentured to the mundanity of their jobs and everyday lives.

She smiled faintly, her eyes back on her half-finished tea. "Do you know ....when they first brought me to America, they put me in a cage," she told him quietly. "They were afraid of me, so they found a way to make me helpless. And even when they turned the power off, I was still in the cage. I still am. They say the door is open, but if I was to leave, Hydra would find me again. And they wouldn't come for me. They would kill me instead. I have no one but you, and I do not think you would tolerate me if you did not have to. No one wants a stranger who can read minds."

And what did she think Hydra would do to him if they found him' Wasn't the battle they'd just fought together proof enough' They'd want them both back, so they could retrain their minds and use them as weapons to do their bidding. Nikolai didn't need anyone to tell him that to know it was true. But she was wrong about herself and about him. "You are wrong," he told her bluntly, taking the risk of angering or confusing her.

Alyona laughed a little bitterly. "I am always wrong when I tell the truth," she shrugged. "It is no different with you, it seems." She ducked her head, letting out a soft sigh.

"The truth is subjective," he replied, meaning it was the truth as she believed it, but not necessarily the real truth. "You have told me what you know of all the others. What about me?" he asked, not only curious but hoping to make her understand how wrong she was about him.

"What about you?" she echoed, another shrug tugging at the looseness of her sweater. "You are uncomfortable with me. Your thoughts change all the time - never still. You feel guilt and anger and sadness and hate. When you think of me, you feel bitterness and sadness. You are my friend, I think, but ....like everyone else, you are afraid of what I can do."

"I do not think so, Alyona," he chided her gently, with the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. She was right about some things, but wrong about others. Then again, perhaps it had been a while since she'd allowed herself inside his head, and she was no empath. She could not sense his feelings, only his thoughts; even those were open to interpretation. "I do not feel sad when I am with you, and if I am afraid of you, it is only because I do not want to lose you, the way I lost Lillia." There, he'd said it. Let her make of that what she wanted.

"And if you do not allow me to become close, then you will not lose me as you did her," she said with another shrug, one shoulder rising and falling. "I understand." If all he offered her was friendship, then she would gladly take it, unwilling to pressure him into giving anything more. But she loved him; she had loved him almost since the first touch of her mind on his, when she had seen everything about him - everything he was so ashamed of - and had not recoiled. It was a lonely way to live, to be in love with the only true friend she had, but she knew loneliness well. At least he was no longer actively seeking death.

"Something like that, da," he agreed, though it was a little more complicated than that. She was so young, for one, and he had been born more than half a century ago, though he only looked to be in his early thirties. Though he did not look the part, he was old enough to be her father, closer in age to Steve Rogers than anyone else. "I am, how does the captain say it' An antique."

"That only makes you all the more precious," she said softly, forcing a smile onto her face. He did not want to talk about this, she decided; why else would he deflect her away from feelings to obstacles instead? "I will check the perimeter," she said, rising to her feet to reach for her coat. "You should change."

He was only trying to make her understand why he kept her at a distance, though that distance seemed to be closing more and more each day. "You cannot walk away from everyone, Alyona," he said, as it seemed to him she was making excused to avoid the conversation, yet again.

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:15 EST

She paused, pulling the belt of her coat tight as she slipped her feet back into her boots. "When no one wants me to stay, it is easy," she assured him, turning toward the door to lift her hood. She didn't give him a chance to respond further, pushing her way out of the vardo so quickly that barely any heat was lost into the raging snowstorm beyond. Another skill learned with these people, it seemed.

She was wrong once again, but she didn't give him much of a chance to say so. What was it she was running away from, exactly' Was it him who was afraid of her, or the other way around" Why did she keep insisting he didn't want her there when nothing could be further from the truth' He sighed and shook his head, unsure if he'd ever understand her, before setting the tea aside and getting to his feet to get changed - slowly and a little painfully.

She was gone what felt like too long, especially with the wind blowing harder and colder with each passing minute, as much lost in her own thoughts as she was in scanning the area for any sign of the force that had attacked them. She even reached out as far as she could, hoping to touch a familiar mind, but they were all too far away. There were limits, even to the unbelievable. When she came back to the vardo, she was frozen, her skin icy cold and tinged with blue as she forced the door closed once again.

It had only been an hour, but it felt like a lot longer. He had changed his clothes, as she'd asked, and while he found them warm and comfortable, he didn't think they suited him much. He'd spent the better part of the last hour pacing the small confines of the vardo, much like a tiger in a cage, or like he had paced during his confinement in prison and then again, many years later at Avengers Mansion. He was not fond of small spaces, and that was only one of many quirks in his psyche. It made him nervous, and it didn't help that she had been gone too long for his liking. He was just getting ready to change back and go out looking for her when she returned. He did not immediately scold her, knowing that would do nothing but push her farther away.

"There is no one out there, Alyona. They are all dead or frozen," he told her, as she let herself back inside.

Shivering, she fumbled to lock the door, raising her hands to her mouth to blow on her frozen fingers as she turned back to him. "I-it is b-best to be s-sure," she pointed out, lowering those frozen fingers to fight with her coat. The storm, it appeared, had arrived with full force, and going out into the snow in a skirt had not been the best of ideas.

"You are freezing, mishka," he told her, as he moved closer to rub his hands against her arms to get the blood flowing again, unable to hide the worried frown from his face. "Can you not search for them with your mind instead of your eyes?" he asked, chiding her only mildly, guessing she had gone outside for reasons other than just the one she had told him.

With her coat off, she seemed very small against him, letting him rub at her arms as she folded her fingers tightly together, hunched up to make the most of the warmth that was slowly beginning to make her skin sting in a good way. "Y-you needed to change, it was easier to g-give you privacy," she offered. It was a weak excuse for putting her life at risk by going out into a summer snow storm, but it was the only one she had right now.

"Easier than turning around?" he asked, knowing there was more to her escape than that, but not wanting to force the matter. He sighed, not annoyed so much as exasperated by her stubbornness. "This is taking too long. Get in bed," he told her, not taking no for an answer. What sane person goes out in a snowstorm wearing a skirt"

To be fair, she'd never made any claims to sanity. If she'd dared to look, she'd have known what was going through his mind. As it was, she did not dare, her eyes downcast as she toed out of her boots obediently, stripping the slightly damp sweater from her form to inch over to the bed and disappear beneath the covers silently. Without looking into his mind, she believed him angry with her, and there was little that could change her mind there.

While she was busy getting undressed and under the blankets, Nikolai busied himself stoking the fire and making another cup of tea, hoping it would warm her from the inside out. If that didn't work, there were other measures he was willing to try. "That was foolish, Alyona," he told her, trying not to sound like he being too authoritative. "You could have frozen to death out there."

"I would not have," the lump under the blankets objected, but given the fact that it was still shivering, it wasn't much of an objection. No matter her own faith in her ability to weather anything, she couldn't pretend that she wasn't human, with very human weaknesses.

He might have asked why she'd really left and what it was she was really afraid of, but it wasn't his goal to put her on the defensive, not right now anyway. When he returned to her side, it was with a steaming cup of tea, the fire in the stove quickly warming the vardo. "Drink this," he told her, returning the very same favor she'd done for him just a few hours ago.

Reluctantly, she surfaced from beneath the blanket, blowing her hair out of her face as she shifted to sit up. Cold fingers wrapped about the teacup as she huddled on the bed. "Spasibo, sla- ....Nikolai." She blushed, inwardly berating herself for almost letting an endearment slip that she did not think he would appreciate.

Had she appreciated him calling her "little mouse?" He wasn't too sure, but she hadn't berated him for it. It had just slipped out, as easily saying her name. He frowned a little as he watched her sip the tea, wondering what he was going to do about her. He was aware of the fact that she had feelings for him, that much was obvious. The question was what was he feeling for her" "You asked me before if Lillia was alive, if I would still want a family, but Lillia is not alive and there is no bringing her back, so what is it you really wish to know, Alyona?"

"Do not ask me that," she warned, shaking her head. Somehow she'd seemed to fold in on herself even further, afraid to tell him again how she felt. Last time she had, he had told her he wasn't intending to outlive Hydra, and the thought of his death had been a physical pain she did not want to relive. "I do not think you will like the answer."

"I think it is time we were honest with each other," he countered. "I am not the same man I was when I awoke," he reminded her, though he thought she knew that already. Maybe she could read his thoughts, but she could not understand them without him explaining.

She lowered her eyes, hugging herself as she sipped the tea. The shivering was abating, slowly, but she was still radiating cold. He wanted honesty' Then she would give it to him, and watch as her only real friend put even more distance between them. "I love you," she said softly, falling into Russian more as a defense than anything. "That has not changed. It will not change."

Her words did not shock or surprise him the way they had the first time he'd heard them. It had been too soon then. He had only just woken up from a long sleep and had felt out of sync with the world around him, still grieving his wife and feeling guilty for things that had not been his fault. It had been seven months since then - seven months to come to terms with the past and face the future. But in all that time, he had not asked her the one question that had been bothering him. Now he did. "Why?"

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:16 EST

She let out a soft snort of laughter, daring to look at him. "Why does the sun come up?" she asked in return. "Why do the planets move" Why is ice cold" For some things, there is no why. It just is." She shrugged hopelessly. "And it is not the answer you are looking for."

"Nyet," he replied, also slipping into their native Russian. It seemed easier, more natural, to talk to her in Russian, to find the right words that he wanted to say. "But it is an honest one." Given her honesty, he could only repay her with some of his own. "I do not know if I can give you want you want, Alyona. I do not know if I can give you a family, but if it is my heart you wish for, you should know that you already have it."

Her instinct was to tell him that he didn't need to lie to her; that she had lived without his heart long enough to know that it would not kill her to be unloved. But she was looking into his eyes as he spoke, and they all knew by now that it was impossible to lie to her when she could see into your mind. She knew he spoke the truth. "Why would you think I would love you only for what might come of it?" she asked quietly. "I do not know if Hydra left me the means to give you a family. To give anyone a family."

"I do not know if I am able to give you a family either," he pointed out, though if Steve Rogers was anything to go by, it seemed possible. "The Avengers are our family now, Alyona, but I do not think of you as family."

Her eyes warmed as he spoke, touched deeply that he was telling her this. He could have hidden his feelings away, kept her from knowing them in a dozen ways, but he had chosen to share them. "I must know," she said in her quiet way, huddling about her teacup as a latent shiver ran down her spine. "Why do you push me away?"

He had found a seat beside her, close enough for his warmth to radiate toward her, but without touching her. He frowned a little at the difficulty of answering her question. He could have given her a hundred reasons, a hundred excuses, but in the end, there was really only one, and it was something he'd told her already. "I am afraid of losing you the way I lost Lillia."

"I am not Lillia," she reminded him gently. "I cannot compare to her, I know. She is in your heart; she will always be there, and I would never ask you to forget her. I cannot promise you not to die. But I can promise you that I will never stop fighting to come back to you."

No, she was not Lillia, and he didn't want her to be. Lillia was gone forever. She had been gone a very long time, and there was no bringing her back. "No, you are Alyona," he said with a rare smile that he saved just for her, reaching for her hand to tangle his fingers with hers. "There is only one of you, and you are special in your own way."

The hand he gathered into his own was still cold, trembling even as she slid her fingers between his. "I am a freak," she reminded him with warm humor. "But if I am your freak, then it is not so bad."

That remark almost made him chuckle. "If you are a freak, then what am I?" he asked. They were both freaks, by some people's standards, but then so were their friends - all of them different from ordinary human beings, mutated or enhanced or just extraordinary in some way. "I would prefer to think of you as my Alyona," he told her, that soft smile still on his face.

"Your mishka?" she asked, an almost playful flicker in her hopeful eyes as she held his gaze. No, she hadn't missed that endearment, though it had surprised her to hear it. But in context, knowing now that he felt as she did ....it made her smile to think he saw her as a "little mouse".

That actually did make him chuckle, another rarity from him, but maybe it was Alyona who brought the best in him out. "Did I say that?" he asked, sounding almost embarrassed by the term of endearment that had unconsciously slipped out of his mouth.

"Da, sladkij, you did," she told him, her playful flicker becoming a fond smile. "No one has ever given me a name that is not my own before. It is ....sweet." She giggled, reaching to set her empty cup down on a flat surface before plunging her hands underneath the blanket. "I think I froze something vital out there."

"That is what happens when you go out in a snowstorm in a skirt," he scolded playfully. "Do you need me warm you up?" he asked, though he wasn't sure if either of them were ready for real intimacy yet. It had been more than fifty years since he'd been with a woman, and this woman was barely out of her teens.

It seemed she shared his concern about intimacy, at least. "Not if it involves taking more clothes off," she told him, her tone comical but serious. She wasn't ready for that closeness, not yet. She was no virgin, but it had taken seven months for them to reach parity on their feelings toward one another. Rushing was not the way they needed to go.

He felt a little silly dressed as he was in the clothes of the Romany, but at least he wasn't naked. He didn't think she was quite ready to see him without his clothes off, or even his shirt off, and bear witness to the scars of his torture - scars of wounds that had been inflicted before he'd been injected with the experimental serum that had made him what he was. But that didn't mean he couldn't stay close and keep her warm. The storm was raging outside, rocking the vardo back and forth in the wind. He took the tea from her and set it aside before pulling off his boots and sliding onto the bed beside her to wrap his arms around her, rubbing her back to warm her with the heat from his own body.

She might have pulled away before his simple confession, afraid to hold to him in case he thought she was asking for more than he offered. But now" Now she twisted into his arms, unafraid of the metal limb or the flesh one, burying her chilly fingers between their bodies to leech the warmth from him that he offered to her. "Spasibo, sladkij," she murmured to him, letting a last heavy shiver vibrate through her slender form. "I tried to reach Natasha or Sam, but I couldn't. I cannot reach so far, it seems."

"We will contact them when the storm passes," he assured her. In the meantime, all they could do was lay low and hope the others didn't think them dead. They hadn't come here to accomplish anything more than giving him closure, where the death of his wife was concerned before running unexpectedly into Hydra. "Do you wonder how Hydra knew we'd be here?" he asked, just a little paranoid. He knew Hydra was everywhere, but it was far too coincidental for his liking. Had Lillia's grave been a trap, he wondered.

She frowned, wrapping her own arms around him as her fingers warmed. "I ....do not know," she said, troubled that they had been ambushed. "Perhaps they have some way of tracking the technology that we had in the truck." She didn't want to believe that Hydra had been watching Lillia's grave. Natasha had been so certain that no one knew of its location.

Alyona · Date: 2017-08-01 14:17 EST

Or maybe there was an even more sinister answer. "I think it is me, Alyona," he confessed. And if he was right, they weren't safe even there. He shifted suddenly, looking alarmed as he realized something. "I think they must be tracking me somehow."

She shifted with him, raising her head. "But ....surely Mr. Stark checked you for anything that might be used like that?" she asked in concern. Her hand rose, laying over the curve of his metal arm. "May I?"

"Da, but what if he didn't know what he was looking for?" Nikolai countered, wondering if Hydra hadn't implanted something inside him - in his skin or his arm, some sort of tracking device that even Tony Stark hadn't been able to find.

Alyona's frown deepened as she considered this. She didn't want Hydra to be waiting for them when the storm abated. Twisting, she drew his arm between her hands, closing her eyes as she concentrated. Crimson coils encircled her fingers as she drew them slowly over the length of his arm, her mental touch as gentle as she could make it, searching for something she couldn't have even predicted was there.

Nikolai turned quiet as he waited for her to mentally search for anything that seemed amiss. He wasn't sure if she'd be capable of finding anything. Not even Tony Stark, with all the technology money could buy at his fingertips, had found anything, but he could not deny Hydra had found them, and he refused to believe it was merely coincidence.

But Tony Stark did not have a natural means of searching neuro-electrically. Alyona did; it was a part of her mind-reading, her telekinesis, the basis for everything she could do that was beyond normal. And as she searched, she realized that what she was looking for had been in front of her all along. She'd dismissed it as being just a part of the workings of his metallic arm, but its output had changed since they'd passed the Russian border. It was tiny, barely the size of the nail on her littlest finger, buried deep in his wrist. "It's a tracker," she said softly. "You want I should try to switch it off?"

He didn't need to ask her how it had gotten there or why Stark hadn't found it. Relieved she had located it, he could only hope it wasn't too late and that she'd be able to shut it off somehow. "Da, if you can," he replied with that worried frown of his. If not, he might have to try and disconnect the whole arm and destroy it somehow.

She bit her lip, her expression going oddly blank as she concentrated on the little blip she had found. No wonder Stark had not been able to locate it. It was tiny, concealed in the actual workings of Niko's arm, and had only activated recently. Perhaps it was only activated when it was within range of a receiver designed for it, who knew" What she did know was that it was transmitting their location, and she needed to somehow turn that off. But that was a no-go. As she felt her way through the electrics of his arm, it became clear that tampering with the tracker would result in some sort of punishment, some negative response designed to keep him from doing this himself. But she could suppress the signal, concentrating to pinpoint it and muffle it.

"I cannot turn it off," she confessed in a troubled tone. "It has a no-tamper switch, or whatever it is called. I have quietened it."

"A no-tamper switch?" he echoed, his brows furrowing in confusion and worry. He knew what that meant, but had no way of knowing what it might trigger if she tampered with it. "We need to go," he said, worried he might have inadvertently brought Hydra down on her people, along with them. But how could they go anywhere when there was a storm raging outside" At least, the storm might hamper Hydra, too.

"We can't, not until the storm abates a little," she said, shaking her head. "I have muffled the signal, but I do not think it was active until we came to Russia. I think, maybe, there is a base around here somewhere."

"If there is, we should find it," Nikolai said. It was risky, yes, but this was war and Hydra was the enemy. He also realized he could use himself as bait, but there were only two of them and he didn't want to take any chances with Alyona. No, this wasn't about taking the base, merely finding it.

"Nyet, we should not," she argued. "Stark will have sent a drone to investigate that missile blast that killed our truck. We should flag down the drone and go home. We can locate the base from there, but out here" You are injured, and I cannot shield us both from any attack that might come. We are too vulnerable, Niko."

The fact that she'd used the more familiar form of his name was not lost on him, but he had too many other things on his mind right now to comment on it. "You are right, of course. We will leave as soon as the storm breaks. The longer we stay, the more we put your people at risk." And the more they were at risk of being killed or worse, too.

She nodded in agreement. "The longer we stay, the more you are at risk," she reminded him in a soft tone, raising her hand to his cheek. "I will not let Hydra take you, sladkij. Never."

Sweet, him' No one had ever used such pet names where he was concerned, but his Lillia. He did not think he was very deserving of such names, but why should he argue with her when she so clearly cared for him, and he craved such caring. But as far as Hydra was concerned, he was far more concerned with her safety than his own. "When the storm breaks, mishka. Until then, we should get some rest."

"We should," she agreed, though she was uncertain how much rest she would get. Her senses were on alert now, her mind reaching out for any sign that the soldiers they had so recently escaped from might be coming back for them. Still, she nestled into his arms, prepared to give the appearance of resting for his sake, at least. "We have a couple of hours."

He wasn't sure how much sleep he would get either, but he knew they had to try. There was nothing they could do until the storm broke and they could try to get in touch with their allies. Until then, all they could do was stay where they were. It was tempting to take advantage of such a moment, especially as isolated as they were, but Nikolai was not the type of man to take advantage of a woman, just because he could.

"Get some rest, Alyona," he urged her, gentler than one might think for a man who looked like he wouldn't think twice before breaking someone in two. He could almost sense her opening her mind for any threats, and so long as she did that, she would get no rest.

She smiled against his chest, knowing he was trying to protect her as best he could. "I will try," she promised softly. "But only if you try, too." After all, they had worked together long enough by now for her to be able to tell when he was being chivalrous.

"I will try, too," he told her, making no promises, but knowing he needed some rest as much as she did, if only to aid in the healing of his wounds. But before he closed his eyes, he made sure his guns were close at hand, just in case.