229. A Sister Found in War. (Patreon)

Yelena Belova POV:

Darkness had a way of sharpening the mind and maybe that was why I liked it or maybe it was because I had spent most of my life in it.

Either way, the night over St. Petersburg felt… fitting.

It had been an hour since the Avengers left, an hour since the world shifted on its axis and an hour since we chose to walk willingly into the jaws of the beast that had made us.

I stood near the window of the cottage, arms crossed, watching the distant sky. The Red Room...that ugly floating monstrosity...had entered St. Petersburg’s airspace nearly fifty minutes ago.

And only now, only now they were responding as they made certain using their sensors that no Parker Industries vehicle was there in the land or the air. As if their antiquated junk could detect whatever stealth monstrosity Parker built.

The distant roar of solid engines reached my ears.

“Truly,” I muttered dryly, “the peak of Soviet efficiency.”

Behind me, Natasha snorted loudly.“Some things never change.”

I turned, pushing myself off the wall and heading toward the living room.

It was almost surreal no matter how many times I saw it.

The cottage looked… normal with it's warm lighting, wooden floors and a couch that had probably seen better days.

In the middle of it two ghosts were putting on each other’s faces.

Natasha stood in front of a mirror, carefully adjusting the disguise mask. Her features shifted, warped and finally she became someone else. She became Melina.

Across from her, the real Melina adjusted the Natasha mask, her fingers steady despite everything.

“Creepy.” I muttered.

Natasha glanced at me. “You’ve seen worse.”

“True.”

I leaned against the doorframe, watching them for a moment longer.

“…You pull it off better.” I added, nodding toward Natasha.

Melina let out a soft, humorless chuckle. “I’ve had years of practice pretending to be someone else.” she said self deprecatingly.

Behind me, a familiar and unwanted voice cut through the room.

“So,” said Alexei, arms spread wide like he was addressing an audience instead of three people who barely tolerated him, “this suit of yours… as strong as Captain America’s shield?”

I didn’t even turn.

“Alexei,” I said flatly, “give it a rest already.”

Melina sighed. “For once, I agree with her.”

Alexei scoffed, undeterred.

“What? I’m simply asking! You and I...” he pointed between himself and Melina dramatically “...we are likely cannon fodder in Parker’s grand plan. Disposable assets!”

I turned slowly, fixing him with a stare. “You speak like you deserve anything better.”

Melina went still. “Do we?”

That landed harder than I expected.

For a moment, no one spoke. I told myself I didn’t care, it didn’t matter.

But the way her voice trembled and the way it cracked just slightly… made me remember those days in Ohio

I clenched my jaw.

No. No sympathy for them. Not now, not ever.

Beep.

My earpiece lit up in 0.5 second intervals.

I straightened instantly. “Three minutes.” I said.

Natasha didn’t even look surprised. “Right on schedule.”

“Or late.” I muttered.

The faint rumble of VTOL engines grew louder.

Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-27 Floggers carrying Dreykov's personal Spetsnaz were coming for us.

Perfect. Everything was falling into place.

Melina stepped closer.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized.

I frowned. “For what...”

Pain exploded through my body. A sharp, electric scream tore through my nerves as the taser stinger hit me square in the torso.

“Y...you...!”

My muscles locked and my body betrayed me.

I hit the ground hard, every nerve ending screaming as paralysis took hold.

Through blurred vision, I saw Melina lowering the weapon, her expression tight.

“This is the only way.” She whispered.

I wanted to curse her. To scream, to fight but I smiled.

Because this means that the plan is proceeding smoothly.

Hands grabbed me, lifted me onto a stretcher like a bag of potatoes and then the smell of jet fuel hit my nose.

I was being transported by a Flogger right into the heart of the Red Room and at the right place where I needed to be.

As darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, I let out a weak, breathless laugh.

“Showtime…”

Teresa Parker POV:

The door slid open with a low mechanical hiss.

I didn’t look up immediately as I had learned that lesson early.

Don’t react.

Don’t show interest.

Don’t give them anything.

But still, I noticed. Perhaps at the end of the day I'm a curious person.

I raised my eyes slowly and saw Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow standing right there and beside her is a massive man in red.

I recognized him as Red Guardian aka Alexei Shostakov from old CIA files.

The files called him MIA and now he's here.

What is going on…?

From my CIA briefings, from scattered intel reports, from whispered rumors this didn’t make sense at all because it shouldn't be this easy to catch the Black Widow who by the way is also an active Avenger.

The guards escorted them in casually with no restraints or concern. It was pure arrogance that is typical of members of the Russian armed forces who are drunk on the might of propaganda and the faded glory from the fall of Berlin.

Their arrogance stems from the thought that this place was inescapable, they thought we were broken and they were wrong.

I glanced down at my hands. They were raw, bruised and tiny cuts lined my fingers. Unscrewing micro-fasteners with fingernails wasn’t exactly a recommended procedure but desperation made you creative.

Mom sat beside me, calm as ever.

We weren’t prisoners, we were survivors waiting for the right moment and nd something told me that moment was close.

Suddenly something unexpected happened.

Alexei started crying.

I blinked. “…What?”

He dropped to his knees, clutching his head.

“Natasha… I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I was wrong. I know I was wrong.”

His voice cracked again.

“I… I thought about those days. Ohio. The house. The girls. The family…”

He laughed bitterly through tears. “I don’t even know when it became real to me.”

Silence filled the room and Mom spoke first.

“Your words may be sincere,” she said, her tone even, “but sincerity doesn't erase consequences.”

“We cannot undo what we did,” she continued. “We cannot give back what we took.”

Her gaze softened just slightly.

“The only thing we can do… is try to be better. If they allow us to.”

She paused, then added without a shread of interest, “Also, that is not Natasha Romanoff.”

I blinked. Wait... what?

Alexei let out a broken laugh.

“I know that it is not Natasha,” he said miserably. “I’m a coward and I sold out years ago.”

The woman in front of us reached up, pulled the face mask off. I didn't recognize her.

“Hi,” she said simply. “Melina Vostokoff.” She jerked a thumb at Alexei. “And this vodka baby and I are here to get you out.”

She paused then smirked.

“Well… technically we’re here to light a beacon.”

The door confinement door in front of them slid open.

And then, everything changed.

A flash of blue light, a distortion in the air and suddenly he was there.

Peter Parker.

Not in armor or some godlike suit. He's here as just… a man in a suit and trench coat.

A mop of messy light brown hair and hazel eyes behind plain glasses.

If I hadn’t known, I would’ve thought he was just another person.

But I did know who he was and that made it even more surreal.

He turned toward me and smiled, “Hey there, lil sis.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“Sorry we had to meet like this,” he continued casually, like we weren’t in a high-security prison floating in the sky. “Two dumbasses made some really bad life choices and now I’ve got to fix everything.”

I just stared while he kept going. “After this, we’ll catch up properly. Gwen’s already vibrating with excitement at the idea of having a sister-in-law.”

Gwen.

Gwen Stacy.

Spider-Woman.

Iron Spider.

Technically she isn't Spider-Woman but the world knows the truth even without confirmation.

That Gwen Stacy, she was… excited to meet me?

“Really?” I whispered.

He grinned. “Really.”

“But first,” he said, turning away, “I’ve got an emperor of child slavery to dispose of.”

He walked toward the blast door. He didn’t hesitate or slow down.

He just kicked it.

The reinforced metal door flew off its hinges like it weighed nothing.

And then, silence. No sound of gunfire just a sudden rush of air.

Like something had moved too fast to see.

I stood there while my heart kept pounding in my chest.

I had expected anger, resentment, indifference.

I had prepared for rejection.

Instead, I got that smile.

Due to my deteriorating health I shall take a one week break.