It had been a few days since the Avengers - or whatever they were calling themselves - had rescued ex-KGB agent Nicholai Petrov from the Siberian Hydra facility and blown it up. Since then, he'd been debriefed as much as possible and given bits of information a little at a time to give him time to digest it. After all, one did not catch up on fifty years worth of history in one sitting. So far, he appeared to be handling things as well as could be expected. There hadn't been any more incidents, so long as Alyona was there to help calm him, but he was like a ticking timebomb that might go off any moment. The calm before the storm.
No one went through something like that without being at least a little angry, but so far - except for the initial incident with Steve - he'd been the epitome of calm. Post-traumatic stress, Lucy had called it. It was going to catch up with him at some point, but there was no way of telling when. Nights were the worst, when everything was quiet, when there was no Alyona to calm him or anyone else to distract him. He'd taken to staying up late and reading, until he couldn't stay awake anymore and then Jarvis would administer a sedative of some sort to help him sleep, but it wasn't really sleep so much as falling unconscious. Tony had taken to prowling the sleeping floor before he went to bed, checking in on Alyona and Petrov personally before allowing himself to sleep. He'd taken the job of being responsible for both of them very seriously, but thus far, he'd missed the signs that were warning of a nighttime breakdown on the way.
Alyona, however, could not miss those signs. She had been allowed into Petrov's mind, helping to carefully chip away at the conditioning that clouded his thinking, and each time he allowed it, something else strengthened between them. It was a bond of sorts, something that told her from a distance, without needing to see him, that he was disturbed or frustrated. It kept her awake until he slept, though she allowed him that time alone. If he needed her, she thought she would sense it.
Thus, she was sleeping only a few short hours a night, letting herself relax to sleep only when Petrov passed out, waking up in the moments before he did. She knew Jarvis would tell on her at some point, but there was no need for concern just yet. She had lived with little sleep for years; she could continue like this a while longer. Petrov ....Nicholai ....needed her to watch over him, even if he didn't admit it aloud.
He'd hardly admit it either, though he wasn't sure what would have happened to him if it hadn't been for Alyona. He knew Hydra had programmed him to kill, and he was terrified that one day something inside him would snap, something would set off that trigger, and he'd try to kill the very people who were trying to help him. It had been worrying him for days now, ever since he'd attacked the Captain, but that wasn't who he was or who he wanted to be. The problem was he wasn't quite sure who he was anymore or what he was supposed to do with his life, and he was starting to wonder if it wouldn't have been better for everyone if they'd just killed him when they'd had the chance.
He hadn't spoken a word of this and had tried his best to keep his feelings to himself, but he wasn't sure just how much the girl sensed, how much she knew. If she could truly see inside his head, then she knew he was a monster. It was that monster he struggled with at night, that part of him that only knew pain and torment, anguish and hopelessness. It was that part of him that had him thrashing and screaming in the night, despite the sedative meant to relax him. It was not nightmares so much that tormented him, as it was memories of things he'd rather forget.
Only two doors away, Alyona knew the moment those torments began, snapping awake to roll onto her back. She did not rush to his aid in that instant, knowing that there was a chance, however small, that he might claw his way back by himself and wanting to give him that chance. But as the minutes ticked by, and the silent screams in his mind became vocal, then she rushed from her bed, red tendrils pulling open her door and then his, regardless of the locks. She ran to the bed, trying to dodge the flailing arms to touch her fingers to his temple, if she could just reach him.
Unaware of what he was doing and unable to distinguish between what was real and what was not, he lashed out at her blindly, shoving her away from him as soon as she came near, without recognizing who she was or what she was trying to do, and hardly aware of his own strength.
The sweep of his flesh arm caught her fully, knocking her from his side and heavily against the chest of drawers against the wall, knocking the breath from her.
"Miss Evchenko, do you require assistance?"
Coughing, Alyona shook her head in answer to Jarvis' query. "No, Jarvis, I can handle this," she promised the computer, studying the flailing man for a moment. With a flick of her hands, she slowed his arms for a brief moment, taking a running jump to leap up onto the bed, inside the protective sweep of his limbs. "Nicholai," she said his name, holding tightly onto his shoulder with one hand as the other fought to maintain her touch on his temple. "Nicholai, wake up!"
He hardly seemed to notice her, despite the fact that she was right there in front of him, staring blindly at some unseen enemy, his eyes wide with sheer terror, chest heaving for breath. He had stopped screaming at last, but his muscles were tense, his face pale, his pulse racing, as Jarvis likely could attest. He seemed to be going through some internal struggle, as if part of him was trying to hear her voice, trying to wake himself up, while the other part was fighting to hold on.
It was not the most dignified way to wake someone up, but Alyona had very little choice. He was trapped, and he couldn't see the help that was right there. Bracing herself, she swung her leg over his twitching thighs, pinning his lower half to the bed with her own body weight as best she could, and raised her other hand to his face, lowering her forehead to his to force her mind inside his own. Nicholai ....hear me ... She saw snatches of the torments that plagued him, flinching away from the violence he relived in his own mind, seeking something, anything, to relieve that pain and give him back to himself.
There were few good things in his head to latch onto - a few old memories of childhood, his friends and family and colleagues, and most importantly his Liliya, but even those memories were painful, knowing they were all gone. Knowing she had been taken from him, killed, murdered, for no other reason than that she had loved him. That rage was fighting against the programming, fighting to regain control and avenge her death and make those who had hurt them both pay.
At a loss for any memory to lighten him, knowing they all now came with some pain, Alyona scowled, concentrating fiercely as she dragged her own memories to the fore, pushing them into his mind to seek out the good in his mind that came from the very recent past. She used her own experience of the past few days to find the good in his perception of it, and was surprised to find her own face so prominent in those recollections. Surprised by the gentleness that he seemed attached to, by the odd way she seemed to be able to smile without actually cracking a smile. Surprised that he could recall her face in such vivid detail after only a few days.
No one went through something like that without being at least a little angry, but so far - except for the initial incident with Steve - he'd been the epitome of calm. Post-traumatic stress, Lucy had called it. It was going to catch up with him at some point, but there was no way of telling when. Nights were the worst, when everything was quiet, when there was no Alyona to calm him or anyone else to distract him. He'd taken to staying up late and reading, until he couldn't stay awake anymore and then Jarvis would administer a sedative of some sort to help him sleep, but it wasn't really sleep so much as falling unconscious. Tony had taken to prowling the sleeping floor before he went to bed, checking in on Alyona and Petrov personally before allowing himself to sleep. He'd taken the job of being responsible for both of them very seriously, but thus far, he'd missed the signs that were warning of a nighttime breakdown on the way.
Alyona, however, could not miss those signs. She had been allowed into Petrov's mind, helping to carefully chip away at the conditioning that clouded his thinking, and each time he allowed it, something else strengthened between them. It was a bond of sorts, something that told her from a distance, without needing to see him, that he was disturbed or frustrated. It kept her awake until he slept, though she allowed him that time alone. If he needed her, she thought she would sense it.
Thus, she was sleeping only a few short hours a night, letting herself relax to sleep only when Petrov passed out, waking up in the moments before he did. She knew Jarvis would tell on her at some point, but there was no need for concern just yet. She had lived with little sleep for years; she could continue like this a while longer. Petrov ....Nicholai ....needed her to watch over him, even if he didn't admit it aloud.
He'd hardly admit it either, though he wasn't sure what would have happened to him if it hadn't been for Alyona. He knew Hydra had programmed him to kill, and he was terrified that one day something inside him would snap, something would set off that trigger, and he'd try to kill the very people who were trying to help him. It had been worrying him for days now, ever since he'd attacked the Captain, but that wasn't who he was or who he wanted to be. The problem was he wasn't quite sure who he was anymore or what he was supposed to do with his life, and he was starting to wonder if it wouldn't have been better for everyone if they'd just killed him when they'd had the chance.
He hadn't spoken a word of this and had tried his best to keep his feelings to himself, but he wasn't sure just how much the girl sensed, how much she knew. If she could truly see inside his head, then she knew he was a monster. It was that monster he struggled with at night, that part of him that only knew pain and torment, anguish and hopelessness. It was that part of him that had him thrashing and screaming in the night, despite the sedative meant to relax him. It was not nightmares so much that tormented him, as it was memories of things he'd rather forget.
Only two doors away, Alyona knew the moment those torments began, snapping awake to roll onto her back. She did not rush to his aid in that instant, knowing that there was a chance, however small, that he might claw his way back by himself and wanting to give him that chance. But as the minutes ticked by, and the silent screams in his mind became vocal, then she rushed from her bed, red tendrils pulling open her door and then his, regardless of the locks. She ran to the bed, trying to dodge the flailing arms to touch her fingers to his temple, if she could just reach him.
Unaware of what he was doing and unable to distinguish between what was real and what was not, he lashed out at her blindly, shoving her away from him as soon as she came near, without recognizing who she was or what she was trying to do, and hardly aware of his own strength.
The sweep of his flesh arm caught her fully, knocking her from his side and heavily against the chest of drawers against the wall, knocking the breath from her.
"Miss Evchenko, do you require assistance?"
Coughing, Alyona shook her head in answer to Jarvis' query. "No, Jarvis, I can handle this," she promised the computer, studying the flailing man for a moment. With a flick of her hands, she slowed his arms for a brief moment, taking a running jump to leap up onto the bed, inside the protective sweep of his limbs. "Nicholai," she said his name, holding tightly onto his shoulder with one hand as the other fought to maintain her touch on his temple. "Nicholai, wake up!"
He hardly seemed to notice her, despite the fact that she was right there in front of him, staring blindly at some unseen enemy, his eyes wide with sheer terror, chest heaving for breath. He had stopped screaming at last, but his muscles were tense, his face pale, his pulse racing, as Jarvis likely could attest. He seemed to be going through some internal struggle, as if part of him was trying to hear her voice, trying to wake himself up, while the other part was fighting to hold on.
It was not the most dignified way to wake someone up, but Alyona had very little choice. He was trapped, and he couldn't see the help that was right there. Bracing herself, she swung her leg over his twitching thighs, pinning his lower half to the bed with her own body weight as best she could, and raised her other hand to his face, lowering her forehead to his to force her mind inside his own. Nicholai ....hear me ... She saw snatches of the torments that plagued him, flinching away from the violence he relived in his own mind, seeking something, anything, to relieve that pain and give him back to himself.
There were few good things in his head to latch onto - a few old memories of childhood, his friends and family and colleagues, and most importantly his Liliya, but even those memories were painful, knowing they were all gone. Knowing she had been taken from him, killed, murdered, for no other reason than that she had loved him. That rage was fighting against the programming, fighting to regain control and avenge her death and make those who had hurt them both pay.
At a loss for any memory to lighten him, knowing they all now came with some pain, Alyona scowled, concentrating fiercely as she dragged her own memories to the fore, pushing them into his mind to seek out the good in his mind that came from the very recent past. She used her own experience of the past few days to find the good in his perception of it, and was surprised to find her own face so prominent in those recollections. Surprised by the gentleness that he seemed attached to, by the odd way she seemed to be able to smile without actually cracking a smile. Surprised that he could recall her face in such vivid detail after only a few days.