The Orphan
An MCU Fanfiction
By Anastacia Lynn
Chapter Three
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters that are copyrighted by Marvel/Disney. I do own Yekaterina (Trina) Savinkoff-Stark.
A.N. As this is the first chapter in which Yekaterina actually speaks, I should mention that her accent is similar to Pietro and Wanda's. You'll understand why later in this chapter.
Yekaterina was still thinking about her visions when Stark and Yinsen were both dragged back into the small room. The terrorists left and locked the steel doors upon exiting.
Stark sat down and stared at the table, not really seeing it. Knowing where his mind was headed Yekaterina made a small sound to make him look her way.
Stark turned to the darkened corner and saw the small girl for the first time. She was tiny and emaciated, with what may have been golden blond hair, but it was too oily and caked with dirt to tell at this time. Stark was surprised he didn't notice the child before, but given recent events it was understandable.
"Who's she?" he asked Yinsen.
"Her? She was captured weeks ago, with the hopes of ransoming her back for a weapon more powerful than your Jericho. So far, however there has been no response back. I assume she will be executed soon, as she is deaf and mute, and of no use." Yinsen shook his head at the prediction of another needless death.
"I'm neither, thank you very much," said a quiet voice from the corner. "I just didn't feel like talking. I'm not completely sure why I'm bothering now."
Yinsen's eyes widened. He looked at the diminutive girl in the corner who was struggling to sit up. He quickly rushed over to assist her, but no sooner had his hand touched her the poor child stiffened and flinched before trying to pull away. The effort caused her to fall back into the sand.
"I'm only trying to help," Yinsen assured the girl.
"No offense, but I don't know you and I don't trust 'doctors'." Yekaterina knew the man is nothing like the lab doctors she was used to, but old reservations still hold strong inside her. "I've had my fill of being poked and prodded to last me five hundred lifetimes."
"No offense taken," Yinsen assured her. "But you obviously need assistance and I've noticed you've barely eaten anything since arriving here. I only wish to help you to the table so I can get some nutrients inside you. No poking or prodding required."
Yekaterina looked into Yinsen's eyes reading him inside and out. She came to to the decision that she could trust the Middle Eastern man, Yekaterina placed her arm around the back of Yinsen's neck as he puts one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. He picked her up and carried her to the table where Stark sat, withdrawn.
Steadying herself, Yekaterina looked closer at Stark and said in wonder, "Is this what I've looked like all this time? It's really sad."
Stark didn't bat an eye at her statement. That wasn't good. If Stark withdrew too far he wouldn't be able to free himself. Yekaterina had lost hope in actually leaving herself, despite what she had seen, but this man could make a difference once free. She couldn't let that be destroyed by this man's depression.
Yinsen's voice pulled Yekaterina from her own thoughts, "I'm sorry for my assumptions, but…"
"Isn't there a saying about people who assume?" Yekaterina gave a weak smile to the doctor to let him know she held no ill will.
"Very true, but you need to eat, you are only skin and bones." Yinsen placed a plate in front of her; on it were the beans he has cooked earlier.
Yekaterina looked down at the food in front of her. She knew Yinsen was right, but she'd been living off barely any nourishment for so long the thought of eating all that is on the plate made her stomach twist. Still, she needed to start eating again, so she tried to pick up one of the utensils, but the lack of nutrients had taken its toll. Yekaterina couldn't lift the spoon more than a few
inches before her hand started to shake so bad she dropped the spoon.
Yinsen saw this and wanted to help, but he knew the girl's stubbornness wouldn't allow her to let him feed her. He watched as the girl tried thrice more before he decided to risk her irritation and took the spoon; scooping up a small amount of the beans he held the spoon in front of the child's face waiting for her to open her mouth.
Yekaterina glared; first at the doctor then the spoon, but she knew she was too weak to feed herself, so swallowing her pride, Yekaterina opened her mouth and allowed Yinsen to feed her like an infant. He stopped a few times to hold up a cup of water to her lips, which Yekaterina gladly drank. After the food and water were finished Yekaterina felt full for the first time in months. After all, she had begun her hunger strike back before the Ten Rings had stolen her.
Now that Yekaterina's nutritional health was temporarily taken care of, both she and Yinsen looked over at Stark.
While Yinsen had been attending Yekaterina, Stark had moved to sit in front of the fire. Yinsen walked over to him and Yekaterina followed.
"I'm sure they're looking for you Stark," Yinsen assured him. "But they will never find you in these mountains."
Stark ignored him and continued to stare into the flames. Yekaterina could feel the man's depression and sense of hopelessness growing.
"Look what you just saw," Yinsen continued, "that is your legacy, Stark. Your life's work in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you going to do something about it?"
"Why should I do anything?" Stark asked. "They're going to kill me, and you two as well, either way. And if they don't, I'll probably be dead in a week."
Yekaterina sat down next to Stark and focused her power and boosted Stark's hope just a bit before saying, "Well, then it sounds like this is very, important week for you, is it not?"
Stark looked over at the girl, she looked a little better now that she had food in her system, but she still looked like hell.
"How did you get here, anyway?" questioned Stark. "You don't look like you're from this region."
"I am from Sokovia," answered Yekaterina with what Stark just realized was an Eastern European accent. "My parents were shot by man with red star on his arm." Yekaterina patted the side of her left arm. "He took me to place where there was lots of people in white coats and they tied me down to table. Then they stuck needles filled with blue liquid into my arms. The liquid burned my insides and that is when I start to get pains in my head. And my back feels like there is a knife inside trying to get out. There is also my hands, they feel like they are always on fire."
Stark looked at the strange child. He could tell by the fear and pain in the girl's eyes that she wasn't lying. "How old are you?" he inquired.
Yekaterina shrugged, "Lab men said I was born on the thirtieth of April in 1997. And I was 'acquired' on the seventh of July in 1999."
Listening to Stark's inquiry Yinsen piped in, "I heard these men say that today is the seventeenth of May, and the year is 2006. That makes you nine years old and only two when you were taken. It, also, means you have been here six weeks, tomorrow. And you Stark, have been here two weeks already."
Yekaterina looked at Stark again, feeling the hopelessness rising in him, once more. She gave another tiny boost of hope before stating, "I think if you would stop moping you might make it out of here."
A spark of an idea suddenly struck Stark and he turned to Yinsen. "Go tell the men that I have list of supplies and other similar needs. I may have a plan to keep my heart going far longer than this battery is going to allow."
Yinsen gave Stark a confused look but did as he was asked. Yekaterina pondered what she was feeling from Stark; he was elated and hopeful with a strong surge of confidence and assurity. He definitely was confident that whatever this plan was, it would work.
Yekaterina went back to her corner; the less those other men saw of her, the better. Soon men were coming in bring tools and weapons all being ordered by Stark, translated by Yinsen. When the terrorists were gone Stark began to deconstruct one of the missiles.
"How many languages do you speak?" Stark suddenly asked Yinsen.
"A lot," Yinsen replied. "But apparently, not enough for this place. They speak Arabic, Urdu, Dari, Pashto, Mongolian, Farsi, Russian."
"Who are they?" Stark asked.
"They are your loyal customers, sir," answered Yinsen
"They call themselves the Ten Rings," Yekaterina suddenly piped in.
Yinsen looked at the girl in confusion. "They've never spoken English around you; how do you know what they call themselves?"
Yekaterina shrugged. "I can't explain it. When I hear someone speak, I understand them. It doesn't matter what language they are speaking; my brain translates it instantly. A wonderful side effect of almost seven years as a lab rat."
Stark continued to take apart the missile as the two speak.
"You know we might be more productive if you include me in the planning process," Yinsen stated.
"Hm," Stark said off-handedly as he removed the nose cone and pulled out the war head. He then took a small piece of metal out of the war head and threw the rest of the war head behind him somewhere, saying, "Okay, we don't need this."
Both Yinsen and Yekaterina looked at the tiny metal fragment and Yinsen asked the question on both their minds. "What is that?"
Holding the metal up, Stark replied, "That's palladium, 0.15 grams. We need 1.6, so why don't you go break down the other eleven," Stark said to Yinsen.
"How can I help'" asked Yekaterina.
"You can make a clay mold," Stark replied. He then had her work with clay sand and had her pack it into a stone cup. Then she would press a circular clamp of about three inches in diameter lightly into the clay to make a shallow ring-shaped impression.
Yinsen was told to melt the palladium over the fire to place in the mold.
While both Yinsen and Yekaterina were working Stark sketches weapon designs.
"Careful," warned Stark as Yinsen slowly moved away from the fire and towards the table where the clay mold sits. "Careful. We only get one shot at this."
"Relax" said Yinsen. "I have steady hands. Why do you think you're still alive?"
As Yinsen poured the molten palladium into the mold Stark asked, "What do I call you, two?"
"My name is Yinsen."
"Yinsen. Nice to meet you," said Stark.
"Nice to meet you, too"
Both men looked at Yekaterina. "My name is Yekaterina Savinkoff."
"It is nice to meet you, as well," replied Yinsen.
Stark looked at the girl with a confused expression. "Yucky-trina?"
"No," said Yekaterina, offended. "It's YEK-ah-ter-EEN-ah," she said slower.
"I'm just going to call you Trina," replied Stark. "It's much easier to say."
Yekaterina, or "Trina", as she was now known, rolled her eyes and grumbled, "There is nothing difficult about my name." Secretly, however, she liked her new nick-name.
After the palladium had cooled to a solid, Stark gently removed it from the mold. He then continued with the rest of his project, soldering various small metal components together. He worked for several days, until he finished his new device; a round glowing device.
"That doesn't look like a Jericho missile," observes Yinsen, as he and Trina looked at the thing Stark has made.
"That's because it's a miniaturized arc reactor," replied Stark. "I got a big one powering my factory at home. It should keep the shrapnel out of my heart."
"But what would it generate?" asked Yinsen.
"If my math is correct, and it always is, three gigajoules per second," answered Stark
"I'm guessing that's a lot," remarked Trina.
"That could run your heart for fifty lifetimes," said Yinsen.
"So, definitely a lot," commented Trina.
"Yeah, or something big for fifteen minutes," said Stark. He then handed them a bunch of sketch papers, on each one are sketches for different weapons; one on each. "This is our ticket out of here."
"What is it?" asked Yinsen, while Trina wondered the same.
"Flatten them out and look."
Yinsen did so, flattening them over the lighted drawing board. Both he and Trina looked and saw that each separate design fit together to form a specialized suit of armor.
Trina realized it was the same armor she saw in her first vision. "It looks like a bloated Tin Woodsman," Trina commented. Both men turned to look at her; Yinsen was trying to hold back laughter, while Stark gave her a look that was both amused and wounded.
'Well, at least Stark will get out of here,' Trina thinks, still not holding any belief that she will.
Yinsen then tells Trina to try and eat, again, as he had Stark lie back down on the operating table. Yinsen then implanted the arc reactor into Stark's chest so the genius wouldn't have to carry the device in his hand.
A.N. Sorry this chapter took so long, but I had to do some research on missile components in order to be sure I was using the correct terms. As well as various science, math, and engineering terms. I'm an accounting major, not an engineer.
I want to state the Yekaterina, or Trina, isn't trying to manipulate Tony Stark. She doesn't believe she'll make it out. Too many years of a bad situation and untrustworthy people have left her without much faith.
Also, if you haven't guessed who the guy with the red star on his left arm is, you need to rewatch Phase 2 of the Marvel Cinematic Universe again. I'm deliberately not using his name or the name of the organization he works for. Remember, at this time he's a myth/ghost, and THEY were stopped back in WWII. The only ones who know for sure of their existence are other members.
Finally, some of you may have noticed (if you are browsing the full site instead of the mobile site) that I added a photo to the story. The photo is supposed to be what Yekaterina, or Trina, would look like as an adult in the comics. I created that image on doll divine . com, in one of the games called X-Girl. You use it to design your own female X-Men. (They didn't have one for the Avengers.) Yekaterina's superhero name is Miracle, and her armor is supposed to be Asgardian. (You'll find out why later in the series.)