The Widow's Daughter ✔︎

Chapter Nine

I felt somebody shaking my shoulders roughly. I gasped and sat up, my eyes aflame, by brain aching from what I had just remembered. My chest was heaving and it was only when I found myself staring into the eyes of the anxious Avengers did I realise I was crying.

Natasha was still holding my hand and Clint was the one who had been shaking me. I wriggled out of their grasps and curled up in the chair, ripping the wires off my head. "I'm a monster," I whispered. "I... I killed them." I could feel my stomach dropping, feeling like an iron ball in my body. I sobbed and clutched my head. "I remember everything."

"What did you find?" Wanda asked gently. 

I couldn't meet her eyes as I said, "маленькая птица."

All of the Avengers, minus Natasha, looked shocked at my sudden outburst of Russian. "Puny mortal, we do not understand this strange tongue in which you so fluently speak," Thor boomed. "Talk in Asgardian or English if you wish to live."

Steve shushed him. "You were saying that while you were out," he said to me. "Muttering over and over again in your sleep."

"Little bird," said Natasha. "That's what it means."

"But why was she saying-" Tony began. Natasha silenced him with a glare.

Bruce unhooked the wires from the machine and plugged them into a large screen. "This will help us to see what you remembered," he said, pressing a few buttons. "So you won't have to explain."

Wanda rubbed my back. I whipped my head over to Bruce and practically yelled, "NO! You can't show them!"

"Why?" Bruce asked. "This is really important, kid. If it's going to find Evelina, this is literally fate-of-the-world important."

I shivered and hugged my legs. "I did... bad things," I breathed, the walls of my mind feeling like they were about to close in on me and swallow me whole. "Really bad things."

Natasha stared at me, her intense gaze making me feel even worse. I thought she was about to scold me for being so scared, such a coward, so weak even though I knew finding her lost daughter was the right thing, but instead she said quietly in Russian, "we won't judge you on the person you once were, Kira. We look at you, right now, and know that you're a kind, smart and funny kid who annoys the crap out of us, and that's what you'll always be." She smiled a little. "You're our kid, Kira. Our little Avenger."

I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. I thought about Tori, just the image of her making me feel infinitely stronger. I fingered the locket that rested under my hospital gown, the red stone glittering in the white lab lights. "I'll do it," I said with ferocity. I looked at all of the Avengers, my gaze lingering especially on Natasha, and I knew that she was right: I was theirs. Their little Avenger. "I'll do it for Tori," I finished.

They watched my memories in silence, and I tried not to cry every time they winced. When they'd finished, I heard them all let out a whoosh of breath as they turned to face me. Every single one of them was pale, their eyes stricken as if torn between choosing to let loose tears, anger, or love.

I hoped the latter.

"You dyed your hair?" asked Wanda.

I gave her a weird look. "After everything you've just seen, that's the question you ask first?"

"I preferred it red," said Thor, the usual boom gone from his voice. "It made you look older."

"Well, thanks," I muttered sarcastically, tugging on a strand of my dark hair, suddenly self-conscious.