Chapter Text
Natasha had an extremely overwhelming urge to punch Alexei in the face. Which probably wouldn’t be the most effective of attacks, considering their height difference and his super soldier serum making him more difficult to hurt, but it was the principle of the thing.
He was complicit, active even, in sending Yelena to the Red Room. He was a main reason she went back.
And sure, Ohio had always felt like some sort of fever dream- fake, inevitable to end, a long con- but sometimes she could fool herself into thinking they’d find a way out. Yelena would have a rough day at school and they’d come home to Melina making their favorite meal. They’d all take turns passionately scream-singing the lyrics to American Pie. Natasha would get into a fight when someone insulted her sister Yelena, and when Alexei came to pick her up from school he’d ruffle her hair and grumble “good job”. Moments when Natasha could convince herself that Melina and Alexei cared for them, that they were a family. That she wouldn’t have to go back.
Yelena had said he’d changed. Natasha had a hard time believing that her death would even effect him at all. (Her death. Another thing she wasn’t sure how to feel about as of yet. Everyone dies, and she knew she was no exception, but knowing the year it could’ve happened, seeing it engraved on her gravestone… that was another matter entirely. If she even still died at that time. Who knows, with the changes made to the timeline already).
But then… but then.
The first time she saw this new Alexei, everyone met up in the Void, he barely looked at her. He acknowledged her with a glance, and there was a startling amount of emotion in that look, but before she could decipher it his gaze was sliding off her and focusing on Yelena. He had rushed forward (and damn if she didn’t still tense in defense of her sister) and put a comforting hand on her shoulder while she helped another, quick mutters of “are you okay?” and “what did you see?” and “do you need anything?” that the Natasha of three minutes ago wouldn’t think he’d be caught dead saying.
(And… was the teammate she was helping who she thought she was? He certainly didn’t have the cold demeanor of her old trainer in the Red Room, or the cool efficiency of the assassin who had shot a target through her, but he certainly resembled him in every other way. Okay. Putting ‘the Winter Soldier’ next to ‘her own death’ in her imaginary box of things to reckon with at a later date.)
And when they had escaped the Void, and everyone began to turn and talk amongst themselves, and Yelena had made a beeline towards her- Alexei had followed, but tentatively. Unsure, shifting his weight, like he wasn’t sure he was going to be welcomed.
Natasha didn’t think she’d ever seen Alexei Shostakov tentative about anything ever in life.
“A threat comes in six years.” Yelena started abruptly, straight and to-the-point like always. “Defeat it the first time.”
Straight and to-the-point, yet somehow still vague enough to not answer any questions. Just like always.
“Don’t suppose you have any more specific tips than that?” She asked, her eyes flicking between Yelena and the nervous, hovering Alexei over her shoulder.
Yelena just hummed contemplatively, tilting her head towards Stark and First Leuitenant John Walker. “Walker typically handles the planning before missions, so he should have something more concrete.”
As if on cue, she caught sight of him handing Stark a notebook, its spine creased in multiple places and indicating the likely large number of times he had held it open to write or reread. Or… he didn’t hand it. He set it down, which Stark immediately picked up.
“And he’s entrusting it to Tony Stark?”
“Looks like it.” Yelena’s mouth was twisted in a way that made Natasha think Stark wouldn’t have been her first choice either, but she made no move to interfere and give the notebook to anyone else.
“You trust him.” She wasn’t sure if her shock infiltrated her voice. Trust, just as a concept, had been practically trained out of Widows in the Red Room. There was no interpersonal relationships, no camaraderie. Just orders.
“Walker?” She sighed, exasperated. “Against my will. But he has shown to be competent in mission planning. And it helps that he steps back on the field and allows me to take the lead.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t hurt.” Natasha agreed wryly.
There’s a moment of awkward silence, where Yelena looked over her shoulder at Alexei. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing comes out, and he was suddenly looking everywhere except straight at Natasha.
Might as well bite the bullet. “Alexei.”
He startled, tensing like he was expecting her to hit him. Which, in fairness, was where her mind had been wandering earlier. Hesitantly, he nodded at her. “Natalya.”
“Do you have some sort of future knowledge to impart on me, too?” She tried to keep her voice as flat and emotionless as possible, fighting down the urge to scream.
Alexei shifted again. “Melina is working to take down the Red Room already. It happened in 2016, originally, but there is no reason to wait. Dreykov has some sort of pheromone he uses that was invented to make it impossible to hurt him.”
Natasha’s brow furrowed. Somehow she didn’t expect actual, practical information. “How did we get around that last time?”
A fond smile tugged at Alexei’s expression. “You broke your nose so you could not smell it.”
That tracks.
“Oh!” Yelena gasped suddenly, turning from Alexei to Natasha with a new sort of intensity. “Antonia Dreykov is alive.”
All of the air left Natasha at once, as if she had been punched in the stomach. “What?”
“She lived, Natasha.” Alexei added. “Dreykov still controls her, she goes by the name Taskmaster. You saved her, last time. You can again.”
The words didn’t compute in Natasha’s head. “I saved her?”
“It’s what you do.” Yelena said simply.
“And…” Alexei added, looking unsure but visibly steeling himself. “I do not know what will happen when I leave, but… I did miss you. Do miss you. You are my daughter in every way that matters. This past me, the 2012 me, he thinks this as well, but it is under the bravado.”
Natasha’s head was spinning, but she managed to nod. The familiar presence of Clint appears over her shoulder. “Thank you.” She managed. “And… I’ll see what I can do about Dreykov. About both of them.”