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Johan had no attachment to her middle name. She didn’t necessarily hate it, but she generally preferred if she wasn’t address as such.
Her mother used to call her by her middle name. She got nothing that could verify her conclusion, but she was almost certain that it was true. After all, there could only be one reason why her kidnappers looked for an "Anastasia" that night, rather than a "Johan."
If her conclusion was to be believed, then, from birth to four years old, she was known as Anastasia. Anastasia who, according to her records, started school at two years old and had piano lessons on the weekends. Anastasia who, according to her only memory before Hell, liked cars and Iron Man.
Anastasia wasn’t the nine-year-old S.H.I.E.L.D. rescued by chance, albeit she was definitely the four-year-old that HYDRA took with malicious intent. Rather, Phantom was the nine-year-old S.H.I.E.L.D. unthawed from the ice — memories freshly wiped, but a killer nevertheless.
Anastasia didn’t come back. As far as Johan was concerned, Anastasia died the same night her mother did.
However, there were days when Johan entertained a what-if. What if Anastasia was never kidnapped? What if Anastasia grew up without any life-altering trauma? What if Anastasia grew up normal? What if Anastasia lived?
On those days, Johan would put on a one-man play for unsuspecting strangers. She would act how she thought Anastasia Stark would’ve acted in certain situations, had she been alive. She would introduce herself as Anastasia to any stranger that would ask for a name.
On those days, Johan would be on a mission to live a fleeting moment from the life she was robbed of.
"Do you want me to ask them if you can play the piano?" Had Sergeant Barnes not interrupted her reverie, Johan wouldn’t’ve noticed that she had stared at the grand piano in the front of the room. [Romanian]
He and the rest of the Avengers arrived thirty minutes after they alerted her and Stark about their unfortunate traffic situation. She instantly gravitated toward him upon his arrival: easily occupying one of the seats next to him while Captain Rogers occupied the other.
She had no expectations on how the dinner with the Avengers would go. This marked the second time she met majority of them, after the whole fiasco of her unknowingly crashing an Avengers’ mission earlier in the year. Albeit she spent hours in their presence during their first meeting, she had been slightly preoccupied to observe them, as any proper assassin would’ve. Hence her lack of expectations.
Thankfully, the evening had been progressing just fine.
"I can ask them myself." It would’ve been the perfect time to observe the band of heroes, as all they did to occupy the wait time was to converse about the most trivial things. However, she didn’t deem it appropriate to observe for their weaknesses while they were doing the most mundane thing. "You’ll know when to rescue me, wouldn’t you?" [Romanian]
So, instead, she opted to remove herself from their close proximity for the time being. "I will. Be careful." [Romanian]
Johan figured it would be best to approach their server, whose name was Lucia, for her question. She noticed the older woman seemed to have appreciated Stark’s deliberate choice to greet her in her mother tongue, so she opted to ask her question in the same language. "Excuse me? Hi. Are customers allowed to play the piano?" [Italian]
"Hi, darling," Lucia greeted her sweetly. Johan tried her best to match the smile on her face, without necessarily giving her a real one. "Of course. Let me just dust it off for you, okay?" [Italian]
"I’m sorry for the trouble," Johan replied as she trailed behind her. [Italian]
"Don’t worry about it, darling. It’s nice to see the piano being played with. It doesn’t get as much love as it used to." When they arrived back at the grand piano, she saw Sergeant Barnes watching her at the corner of her eye. She sent a soft glare his way to dissuade him from watching her too intently. "There you go, darling." [Italian]
Johan casted the older woman another smile in gratitude, "Thank you so much." [Italian]
Truthfully, Johan only knew a few things about Anastasia Stark. Which, really, wasn’t that surprising since she only lived until four. Due to that, she had a lot of creative freedom in crafting her personality — at least when it came to deciding which traits of her parents she inherited.
Anastasia Stark, as she imagined her, smiled a lot. Not just to convey her gratitude, but also her excitement and her mischievousness. She was appreciative and expressive, having been raised in a household where she was encouraged to clearly share her emotions. She was stubborn and passionate, too, especially when it came to what she believed in. She was talented and curious and imaginative and a million other things that people either praise or scorn her for.
Best of all, she was the right amount of proud and humble about who she was and what she could do.
Anastasia was the perfect daughter of Dawn Collins and Tony Stark. And, frankly, Johan found her mantle quite exhausting to wear. Still, she would willingly bear it whenever she felt like it.
When Johan sat on the piano bench, she knew spectators were inevitable. Playing an instrument in public always came with it, regardless of their reaction after a piece. She was accustomed to being stared at, as she had been ‘under observation’ for the majority of her life, so their stares weighed almost nothing on her shoulders.
Nevertheless, the weight of everyone’s eyes on her felt almost refreshing. The stares weren’t conveying anything she was used to, rather they were just filled with interest and amazement.
It was exactly the kind of attention Anastasia Stark thrive in.
"What’s your name?" Amidst the applause she garnered from finishing her first piece, a voice called out a question. Like the Avengers’ server, he too had a faint Italian accent lacing the end of his words.
"Anastasia."
"Like Anastasia Romanov?"
Johan almost laughed. She knew who Anastasia Romanov was. She was Imperial Russia’s youngest Grand Duchess during its last sovereign. Due to her burial location being unknown for some time, rumors that she survived the murder of her entire family persisted for decades.
She didn’t know if she was named after her. Either way, she found irony in the vague similarities of how they both lost everything while sharing a name.
The family was murdered, but Anastasia survived . . . somehow. "Precisely."
⚝⚝⚝
Sergeant Barnes called Johan back to their table after her third piece. After delicately closing the cover and stepping away from the bench, she gave her audience a ninety-degree bow. She left the stage while a round of applause was still bouncing off the restaurant’s walls.
The Avengers welcomed her back with praises. She thanked them for their compliments, sincerely yet timidly. However, the radiant smile she had offered everyone else was nowhere in sight. If any of them noticed its absence, no one brought it to attention.
"Do you play any other instruments?" Scott Lang was one of the few who seemed to know how to keep her engaged in a conversation — or at least, who appeared to be adamant about engaging her in one.
Johan figured he, as the others, were merely being polite — presumably not wanting her to feel left out. "I do, albeit not as good as the piano."
However, no matter how many times she tried gently shutting down their efforts by giving dry answers, they still persisted. She couldn’t directly tell them that she didn’t mind being ignored either, as it wouldn’t’ve resulted in anything well. Thus, throughout the entire dinner, she had to bear being asked about disconnected questions.
Interestingly enough, the most curious question that she had been asked within the timeframe didn’t even come from an Avenger.
"Young miss," it was Lucia, "do you have any allergies?" [Italian]
Like most of the questions that had been thrown at her ever since she stepped foot inside the restaurant, the inquiry came out of nowhere.
"No," she shook her head lightly, "nothing that I’m aware of."
"Do you like chocolate?"
At that, she tilted her head — her confusion evident. "Yes?"
"Perfect. I’ll be right back."
Johan watched her retreating figure for a second before turning her head to Sergeant Barnes. By just raising an eyebrow, she asked him: What was that? To her dismay, however, he merely shrugged.
When their server came back with desserts, her unvoiced question was answered in the form of a bowl of chocolate gelato. One that she definitely didn’t order. "I—"
"Don’t worry about it, darling. It’s on the house." Johan couldn’t stop herself from examining the expression on the older woman’s face. There was still a smile on her face, but her eyes held a barely concealed sadness in them. [Italian]
"Thank you," Johan tentatively nodded in acceptance. However, she didn’t leave it there. "May I ask why? Is it because I played the piano?" [Italian]
"Partly," Lucia answered. "You just reminded me of our old regular. Her name was Anastasia, too, and she used to play the piano every time she was here." [Italian]
The tense she used wasn’t lost on Johan. "Did something happen to her?"
"She—" Lucia hesitated suddenly, as if she thought better about her next words. "Her body was never found." There was no need for context nor elaboration. Suddenly, the barely concealed emotion in her eyes made more sense. "She would’ve been around your age by now."
Johan’s mind instantly flew in multiple directions, scattering into possibilities. Fortunately, she still had half a mind to finish up the conversation before losing herself in her thoughts.
As if unaffected, she brought the gelato back to the topic. "Was chocolate gelato Anastasia’s favorite?"
"It was." The question unintentionally weakened the older woman’s negative feeling — much to her relief. "She used to request for it right after she plays."
She nodded slowly, "I’m glad that I reminded you of her. She sounded like a lovely kid."
Anastasia was a name often associated with royalty, as the names Antoinette and Edward were. By the mere sound of its proper pronunciation, the name itself had an air of regality around it. As her mother Antoinette, Anastasia only had one famous namesake — at least in terms of history.
Anastasia wasn’t a rare name. Apart from its royal connections, it was also a name bestowed upon two popular animated characters. It wouldn’t be surprising if there were more than one Anastasia walking around New York, especially considering that the state was densely populated.
What was unlikely, though, was two children coincidentally named Anastasia who both lived in New York and were both coincidentally taken without a trace.
By contrast, it was highly likely that Anastasia’s body was never found because there wasn’t one to begin with. As if she wasn’t murdered as everyone was led to believe, but was actually kidnapped.
Not for ransom nor any other monetary gain. But rather for the sake of revenge and of the cruelty of it all.
Lovely Anastasia who played the piano and loved chocolate gelato might’ve been the same Anastasia who liked cars and Iron Man.
The very same child who had been reprogrammed to kill on command.