Natasha Romanoff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redintheledger) wrote2013-06-05 01:55 pm
redintheledger) wrote2013-06-05 01:55 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: Moscow, USSR, January 1947
Natasha should be in her room, studying. Unlike her fellow students at the Moscow State University, her semester breaks are spent back at the Red Room, where she has little time for her textbooks. Today is the first day she's been back in Moscow in (once she added up the hours) four days. Four days spent in the nearest approximation to wilderness that geography had to offer near Moscow, which in the middle of winter was no joke. She is glad to be back in the warm and dry, with hot water and no need to try and melt the ice from her eyelashes. Not to mention the ability to wear a civilian girl's clothes, instead of a soldier's layers.
But after four days with the company of Comrade Winter, her room with a bed just for her seems too much like a cell for her to be comfortable in it.
So Natasha is in the common room, newly outfitted with amenities such as some sofas, tables, and a wireless. There is also a piano, old like the sofas but kept in good condition. Despite herself, she gravitates towards it, and walks her fingers across the keys. It reminds her of Papa, and today isn't a very good day for that.
Natasha sits down, and tries to play anyway. She can't remember any of the music Papa taught her, but she can stumble her way through some chords. It's better than sitting in her room and wallowing.
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After the dark of outside, the dark of the hallway is practically bright. This doesn't help the tension at all. What would she do if she was their bosses?
Wait until it's harder to run for the door.
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In the same instant, all the lights brighten to full, and four armed soldiers step into the corridor and train their weapons on them.
Without breaking stride, the Winter Soldier straightens and gives them all a cold stare, silently defying them to shoot.
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Harmless.
Easily led.
The guards' credit, they don't lower their guns.
"Hands on your heads," the oldest of the guards says. He's in his thirties, the kind who has been in the military for over half his life. Not the kind to be taken in by someone's pet-agents pulling rank or bullshit.
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"They are following my orders."
He goes absolutely still as the general steps into the hallway, moving forward to stand at the precise middle of the guards as he favors both of them with a sharp, steady gaze.
"And you?"
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Instead, she just lets her gaze rest on the general's top button, careful not to focus too much and to keep her mouth shut.
(She's not a criminal, she's allowed to go out on her birthday.)
(She's allowed, she's allowed, she's allowed, she's been fighting for them and everyone since she was fucking fourteen and-)
She'll speak when directly spoken to, not an accusatory statement designed to get one of them to speak.
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"Yes, Comrade General." Barely a second passes. "I live and die by your command."
"So you do." He nods to the two closest guards. "Secure him."
The Winter Soldier offers no resistance as the guards pass their weapons to their comrades and move, one to each side of him, putting him in a two-person armlock. Meanwhile, the general turns his attention to Romanova.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Nataliya Alianovna?"
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If there is a chance of her being able to handle this, she can.
"I follow orders, Comrade General. And I complete whatever mission or exercise is asked of me by those you've put in charge of me."
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"See that you continue to do so."
The general turns back to the Winter Soldier.
"Your assessment."
He allows himself a half-second's regret, realizing what this is likely to mean, then answers crisply,
"The recruit is exceptionally skilled, Comrade General. I've seen her in practice, in the gymnasium and in field exercises, and tonight in public."
Only Natasha - he hopes - knows the whole truth of the last.
"She is gifted with natural skill and is a credit to her program's training, as well."
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What she does is nod with a murmured, "Yes, Comrade General," and fall silent.
She might, though, wish that Winter's assessment of her sounded less like a pre-sentencing report.
(And she can spare some worry for Alex.
Not much; he made his own choices.
But...
A little.)
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"Your service is appreciated," he says, and a startled flicker is visible in the Winter Soldier's glance before he controls it. "Escort him to debriefing," he continues, addressing the soldiers, who trade a single look and release their grasp as the general's attention turns to Romanova.
"You are to report to Comrade Sergeant Tkachyov. Oksana Vasilyevna will have your next training assignment."
Meanwhile, the guards reclaim their weapons and all four fall surround their charge in formation. Walking calmly between them, the Winter Soldier starts down the hallway.
He doesn't look back.
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"Yes, Comrade General," Romanova says, and salutes him sharply before walking down the hallway herself. When it comes time to walk through another door, she turns, walks through, and glances across the hallway before shutting the door behind her.