Despite Molokov being gone and things going back to being quiet, Anatoly's household wasn't exactly quiet. Not that he'd expected things to get all sunny the instant Molokov was gone. He'd known there'd still be tough times for them, especially Svetlana who was still dealing with the PTSD of what happened in that alternate world. Then add to that everything with Logan, and then topping it all off with the two of them having to deal with things they weren't ready to deal with. That conversation had been the single most difficult one Anatoly had ever had in his life. They both had the power to completely destroy the other, and it had become a game of words, of making sure to get the truth across but in a way that wouldn't shatter what they had left of themselves. And now Svetlana was sick, something that was a long time coming given all the stress she'd been under, and Anatoly was doing everything in his power to help her get better. Some days it worked, some days it didn't.
He had left the complex to pick up a few groceries. Jelena had made a "request" for something. The "request" of course being her making big pleading eyes at him and pouting until he caved. So he was going to see if the store had the snack she wanted. But he'd decided to take a path through the park, to get some air, and also to give himself a little breather. He loved Svetlana, and he loved his daughters, but Svetlana was rather ridiculous when she was sick. There were times he just needed to get out for a little bit and breath and collect himself again.
But as he was passing through the park, he noticed a girl sitting on a bench, head in her hands. Immediately, he had a feeling of wanting to see if she was okay. He had a natural empathy for people, it was part of why he'd wanted to be a doctor until Molokov had come along and he'd changed so completely. But now, he was becoming more and more of the man he'd been before Molokov had darkened his life, and he wasn't repressing his emotions anymore. The strange thing in Molokov having been here, it blew open the last walls Anatoly had put up around himself to keep his emotions hidden, and kept the real him from being seen by the world. He was oddly thankful to Molokov because of that, and for the first time in years he didn't feel like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn't have to play a role and hide himself behind a chess board any longer.
But then when the girl lifted her head, Anatoly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide. And he didn't breathe for several moments. How was this possible? Oh he well knew people in this place could have dopplegangers, twins that weren't actual twins. But this...this was so different. Natasha was dead, had been dead for many years. And yet this girl looked exactly like the little sister he'd lost. And that alone made him walk over to her, perhaps to prove that she wasn't actually Natasha, perhaps to prove that he hadn't gotten sick and was currently hallucinating this. He carefully approached the girl, not wanting to startle her.
"Is everything all right?" He asked, hoping he didn't look like he was a deer caught in headlights.