Chapter Text
Russia
Saidi was scavenging when she came across a strange place full of food and warm clothes. The clothes didn't fit her in the slightest, but they were warm and had a lot of pockets. She tore hungrily into the packages of food, greedily stuffing more into the pockets of her new jacket and pants.
Just as Saidi was about to look for a weapon to defend herself- whether against street gangs, other kids, or even the Widows- she felt someone approaching behind her. She grabbed a knife, whipped around, and dropped into a defensive stance.
Saidi faced a tall, fierce, Russian-looking woman, with red hair and all-black clothing, much like what she now wore herself.
"Что ты здесь делаешь?" What are you doing here?
"Я ищу еду." I am looking for food.
"Кто ты?" Who are you?
"Меня зоьут Саиди. А ты кто?" My name is Saidi. And who are you?
"Наташа. Наташа Романофф" Natasha. Natasha Romanoff.
Until this point, Saidi had been full of apprehension. But when you live on the streets, gossip tends to travel quickly, and Natasha Romanoff became a legend when she escaped from Dreykov all those years ago that even Saidi, a five year old, knew who she was.
Natasha Romanoff. The Widow who escaped the unescapable prison and almost ended the Widows for good.
Most of the tension left Saidi's body, but then she immediately tensed up again.
There was someone coming.
Natasha must have felt it as well, because she said something in English to herself and then looked back at Saidi.
"Поторопись, пора идти." Hurry up, it's time to go.
"Что? Ты меня с собой забираешь?" What? Are you taking me with you?
"Да. А теперь поторопись." Yes. Now hurry up.
Natasha grabbed Saidi by the arm and started walking further into the storage room. At the far wall there was a door that led to the alley on the opposite side of the building.
Saidi knew this alley well. The meanest street kid gang patrolled this area.
"Наташа! Нам нужно пойти другим путем. Сюда заглядывают опасные люди." Natasha! We need to take a different route. There are dangerous people hanging around here.
"Кто эти опасные люди?" Who are these dangerous people?
"Злые дети. Дети которые причиняют мне боль." Mean kids. Kids who hurt me.
Something flashed in Natasha's eyes for a second that made Saidi a little bit scared. "Сколько их?" How many are there?
"Нет, ты не можешь! Пожалуйста, давай просто пойдем куда-нибудь еще. Я не хо чу, чтобы они причинили вред кому-то еще только потому, что ты причинил им боль." No, you can't! Please, let's go somewhere else. I don't want them to hurt anyone else just because you hurt them.
Natasha's face softened and a flash of understanding crossed her features. "Я не собираюсь причинять им физический вред. Я просто дам им понять, что им не следовало подходить к тебе." I'm not going to hurt them physically. I'm just going to make it clear to them that they shouldn't have come near you.
"Нет! Я знаю другой способ. Пошли." No! I know another way. Let's go.
Without giving Natasha a chance to argue, Saidi set off towards the side of the alley that the mean kids didn't patrol. She ducked under a piece of wood and reached the end of the alley. She glanced behind to make sure that Natasha was indeed following her. As Saidi was turning back to check that it was safe to move into the open, she saw a flicker of fear cross the older woman's features. When she finished turning, she saw why.
A widow was standing in the opening of the alley. She had blond hair and was looking at Natasha with a mixture of recognition and hurt.
"Наташа?" Natasha?
"Елена. Привет, сестра" Yelena. Hi, sis.