After Peter had de-webbed the crowd, most of whom were too stunned to react, He turned back to where Katya and Aneszka were, still sitting on the ground. They were speaking softly to each other in Russian, Aneszka full on sobbing, as Katya leant forward to touch her forehead with Aneszka's own, stroking her hair soothingly. Anezska was clearly having trouble re-orienting, and stumbled when Katya pulled her up with her to stand. Katya made eye contact with Peter, and waved him over to finally formally introduce them.

"Now that you're not trying to kill me anymore," she joked, "Aneszka, this is Peter my…" she glanced to Peter "Boyfriend, right? And Peter, this is Aneszka. We briefly overlapped in the Red Room and now we've managed to use the chemical counteragent to the cognitive restructuring they put us through." She said, repeating this clearly entirely for Aneszka's benefit. Aneszka stuck out a hand, her sobs having turned to trickles which she wiped away with her other forearm.

"It's nice to meet you Peter."

Peter forced a smile, trying to shove aside how weird this felt. This woman was the reason Katya had been in the hospital for over a week, and now she was as docile as a housecat. "It's nice to meet you too."

"Aneszka and I were going to get some more nuts, because they smell really good-" Peter couldn't help but notice that Katya's soft tone and slow speech made it sound like she was talking to a small child- not in a pejorative way, but in a way that it seemed Aneszka needed right now. "And go back to her apartment to talk for a little bit. I've asked her and she said you're welcome to come, if you'd like to."

Peter considered this for a moment. As much as he wanted to stay by Katya's side for support, this seemed like something the two of them needed to focus on together. But of course, he still didn't fully trust the woman, and didn't like the idea of leaving Katya alone in close quarters with her. "Sure," he decided. The area had thinned out somewhat, more due to the tourists' panic than anything else, so it was less chaotic, which helped.

So that's how he found himself,a while later, in the sparsely furnished apartment he'd only ever seen through a drone feed, with a warm cup of black tea in his hands. He didn't particularly like black tea, but apparently it was a very Russian thing to drink- and all Aneszka had in her apartment- so he sat through it, picking at some grapes that Aneskzka had brought out along with some pickles, cheese, a really dense type of brown bread, and a bottle of vodka, which she and Katya were sharing as they spoke.

"How did you find us? At the school." Katya asked, taking her shot, which Aneszka immediately refilled.

"When I found the drone you guys had tailing me, and I took it apart, it had a very unique type of tech- before it blew up of course. So I did some research and connected it to Stark industries, and saw you in a Stark Industries car one day, and followed you from there."

Katya shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you remembered me."

Aneszka smirked. "It's kind of hard to forget the little girl that killed four staff members over the years. You were quite the troublemaker."

Katya's face darkened and she took her shot before grabbing a pickle, though she didn't eat it right away- Peter knew she'd grabbed it mostly to do something with her hands more than anything else.

"Dreykov used you a lot in our drills." Aneszka continued. "He'd say 'see that little girl? That one's a fighter. If you can't keep up with her, you have no business being here.' You were very impressive."

Katya'd poured herself another shot, took it, and then finally took a bite from the pickle. "I don't remember a lot of that." She said softly, glaring at the table, "But it doesn't matter now. The Aca- the Red Room- is gone, and Dreykov is dead, and all of that is over." She muttered, with a sense of finality. Peter wasn't sure if she was saying this for Aneszka's benefit or her own.

"It makes sense that I never got new orders once you found me." Aneszka shrugged, taking her shot and grabbing a piece of the brown bread. She offered the bottle to Peter, who waved it away. She shrugged, and poured herself and Katya another. "So what happens now?"

Katya fiddled with her shot glass and shrugged herself. "Whatever you want to happen. I came here because I wanted to go to school, and live with kids my age. Yelena and a lot of the others are going around the world to free the other Widows that Dreykov had stationed when the Red Room was destroyed. Some went to find their families." Katya took her shot, and grabbed another pickle. "Your life is yours, now. You can do whatever you want with it."

Aneszka took her own shot and then repoured for both of them. She picked at the bread she'd grabbed, looking so unsure and uncomfortable, that Peter was having a really difficult time synthesizing that this was the same woman who had attacked them so brutally. She looked like a lost toddler.

"And of course, you can stay here for a while until you figure it out. Or maybe you even decide staying here is what you want." Katya told her. Aneszka shook her head.

"I'd like to help the others. How can I contact Yelena?"

Katya bit her lip, hesitating, before taking her shot. Peter was beginning to wonder whether she'd be able to stand enough to walk home, but the liquor didn't seem to be affecting her at all. "I'm not sure," She said, "She contacted me, with no return address. But I have an idea of who I can ask to help me help you."

Aneszka reached out and grabbed Katya's hand affectionately. "I don't know how to thank you enough." Katya squeezed back, before removing her hand, and Peter knew her well enough to tell that the darkened look in her eyes meant she was growing uncomfortable. Peter's mind flashed briefly to the conversation he'd had with Mr. Stark- avoid as many triggers as you can-and wondered if this was one of those moments.

"Just…live your life the way you want, okay? Don't let anyone else tell you what to do anymore. You get to choose what you do now." Katya offered a small smile. "That's the best thanks you could give me." Her voice was soft, but her eyes were getting that far away look again.

Peter cleared his throat, reaching his hand under the table to squeeze Katya's knee. "It's getting late- we should head back," he told Anezka, and began to stand. "But thank you for the tea."

Aneszka looked a little taken aback at Peter's abruptness, but nodded. "Of course. I'm sure I'll see you soon."

She and Katya exchanged phone numbers and hugs before they left the apartment, with promises to call each other in the morning. Peter grabbed Katya's hand reassuringly, and they made their way out of the apartment building.

Once they were out on the sidewalk, he squeezed her hand. "You okay?"

Katya shook her head momentarily- not in a disagreeing sense, more like she was trying to shake something out of her head. "Yeah," she offered him a smile. "I'll be okay. It's just hard to hear some of that stuff. This shit still seems to follow me everywhere I go." She sighed. "But I'm glad it's over."

Peter leant over to kiss her on the cheek. "Me too."

Since she wasn't stumbling, slurring her words or seemed really in any way affected by how many- Peter had lost count- shots she and Aneszka'd taken, he held out a hand. "Want to swing home?"

She took it and smiled. "Always."