Stanley felt a weird sense of dissociation between what he saw and what he felt. The memories he was being shown were from when he was an infant, but seeing it from the eyes of an adult was definitely one of the weirder experiences he was having.
"Mother!" he spoke, but no words came out. He looked at the face of the young Yelena, barely any older than 20.
'So young,' he thought, feeling a sense of melancholy at seeing his own mother. He had never realized how young his mother had been when she had given birth to him. He had only ever seen her as someone strong that he could rely on.
To think she was once such a frail young woman that had to take care of him, it was certainly a weird feeling.
He heard the sound of a child crying. They were his own.
"Aw, you took a dump. Haha, wait a second," he heard his mother say. "Bradley, look after your brother. I'll go get some fresh towels"
