Shoutouts to Jo-Jo287 and ilikehats2 for reviewing!
Also, sorry for the Russian speaking viewers that I don't speak Russian, and nor does anyone I know so the Russian in this chapter and any other languages (except maybe a little Spanish or French, that might get put in later, and might not) will all come from Google Translate, which we all know is not the best translator. I also realise that Natasha and Eva might have their whole conversation in Russian, however this fic is in English so I have only put the sentimental bits in to their native language. Enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review!
I wake in the infirmary with no clue at all of where I am. Why am I here? I can't remember. Do I have concussion? I don't have a headache. Where's Clint? He's always here when I am. Why is there- Eva. Jesus Christ no. Not Eva. It can't be.
I race back to the interrogation rooms, slipping in to room five. "I'm surprised they let you back in here. I know I'm dramatic and all that but seriously, fainting? Nat I expected better." A voice from the corner comes. "I've heard your the scary Black Widow and the first guy said he wouldn't want to cross you, but your supposed to find information out from me and then I tell you my name and you faint. Seriously Natalia, I thought you would be better, I mean one picks up things living on the streets."
"Eva?" I whisper, "How do I know it's really you?" She looks like me sure, but the last time I saw her I was six years old and she was four. Life was a little different back then. And even if she is my sister... How the hell do I know I can trust her. How do I know as she so wonderfully described, that she isn't one of the 'fucking Red Room bastards' herself?
"DNA test? But seriously, I am. You know the day before... Everything... It was my fourth birthday and I knocked my front tooth out. Baby tooth though." That happened.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't. But I'm willing to prove that I can be to you." People you can trust usually say that. But the people that are the best at this, know that too.
"You used to call me Anya because that's what you thought I should have been called, and my middle name is Anastasia." Pause. "You did ballet and karate classes." Pause. "Mama used to braid our hair and put us in the same clothes, which you hated and I loved. I always wanted to be just like you." She smiles, remembering. "We shared a room. Which you also hated."
"So, what happened to you then? How did you survive?" I ask, suddenly quite sure it could be her, but I'm sure she was in the house when it burnt down.
"You got taken by that bastard on August 19th 1992, when our house was set on fire. I ran for my life once papa told me to and after two days of being a street kid, I ended up on a doorstep of a couple who were older than mama and papa but they looked after me and brought me up. I did karate and ballet all through my childhood because you used to do it. You were the person I looked up to, even though you hadn't come and found me. I assumed the man I saw take you had killed you. I never gave up searching. " Tears have begun to spill over, but it's not impairing her story telling. I am totally sucked in, not knowing at all what comes next or how she got here but I'm engrossed in her tale, regardless of if she's my sister or not it's still interesting.
"When I was 14 I learned about this green eyed, redheaded assassin and I thought nothing of it until I saw her face two years later. One bad photo was all it took. I kept looking for you. Always. Then you disappeared and the killings stopped. One day years later, I saw the man who took you walking down the road. I followed him back to his base thing where he realised I was. "Natalia!" He cried and I knew it was definitely him and definitely you. I told him that I wasn't you but the one he left behind and asked where you were. He eventually said "America with those S.H.I.E.L.D. bastards. So I went back to the house and watched and most of Budapest was blown up... And I saw you again." She hiccups from the crying, and her voice wavers as if she's about to begin to sob. However she doesn't.
The next year the man who took me in died of old age. His wife followed two months later. Three years after, I saw you on tv, with all these Avenger creeps in New York, so I gathered all the money I could, and bought a plane ticket to New York. I've lived on the streets ever since then, searching for this S.H.I.E.L.D. but it was hard to find. There was this guy a couple of days ago and I err... May have had a dispute with me anyway, he said he was shield and eventually brought me here from New York and I was so like, "YES! S.H.I.E.L.D.! That I didn't care I'd been captured. And now you're here and you don't believe me and it's just like my lifelong goal has been failed... Я люблю тебя, Алия" I love you, Alia. No one knew about Eva's nickname for me, Alia. She begins to sob into her hands, keeping her distance from me. I reach out to hug her, and although the movement seems foreign its almost like a language that hasn't been spoken in a long time, a little rusty but the gist of it is there.
"Я тоже тебя люблю, Аня. Я тоже тебя люблю " I love you too, Anya. I love you too.