Tried to Blame Weather
The next morning arrived in an unsettling quiet. Rays of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. Lena woke slowly, the remnants of the night clinging to her like a second skin. Natasha was already awake, sitting by the window, her green eyes scanning the street below, ever vigilant. She hadn’t slept, Lena realized. "Morning," Natasha said quietly, her voice hoarse from lack of sleep. She stood and walked over to her sister, crouching beside the bed. "How’s your thumb?" "It’s fine." Lena said quietly, though the stiffness in her hand betrayed her. She had been through worse and both of them knew it. Natasha didn’t argue, but she gave Lena a searching look, as if trying to read her thoughts. “I thought you stopped handcuffing.” There was an odd sadness to her words that Lena couldn’t quite put her finger on. She didn’t really know what to say. She hadn’t explicitly told Natasha that she had stopped cuffing but she agreed when her sister had implied it. Instead of words, Lena just shrugged.
Natasha sighed softly, her eyes dropping to Lena’s hand. They had matching scars. “I’m sorry, Lee. I should’ve noticed how hard all this has been for you.” She glanced back at the window, the shadows on her face deepening. “I’ve been so focused on trying to keep everything under control that I didn’t see how much you’ve been struggling.” Lena shook her head, the movement sharp, almost defensive. She didn’t need Natasha to apologize—not for this. She tapped her hand two times to get her attention, “No.” Her sister’s face twisted in an amused confusion. “No?” Lena rolled her eyes, “Don’t apologize. Please.” When Natasha finally met her eyes, Lena poured all of the emotions she couldn’t verbalize into the silent conversation. There was a beat of silence before Natasha nodded with a sad smile, “I know, but I still want to try.” Lena shook her head. She didn’t need Natasha to keep promising protection—she just didn’t want to be alone again.
Before Natasha could say more, there was a knock at the door. They both tensed, but it was a soft, cautious sound. A beat passed before Melinda’s voice came through, calm but with an edge of uncertainty. “Girls, can you both come downstairs when you’re ready? No one is in trouble, we just want to talk.” The request hung in the air. Natasha’s posture stiffened, and she glanced at Lena, unsure whether to comply or refuse. Lena just nodded, her face unreadable, though there was a tension in her small frame. Natasha stood and reached out a hand, helping Lena out of bed, smoothing down her sister’s hair.
By the time they made it downstairs, Phil was seated at the dining table with a glass of orange juice and Melinda was bringing over her cup of coffee. Phil leaned back in his chair, hands resting on the table, while Melinda sat next to him, her gaze steady but not harsh. They had clearly planned this approach carefully. “You guys can take a seat,” Phil said gently, gesturing to the chairs across from them. Natasha hesitated for a split second, her eyes darting to the exits but gave Lena’s good hand a comforting squeeze. She and Lena took their seats, and the silence stretched again before Melinda spoke. “We wanted to check on you both,” she began, her voice soft but direct. “We don’t need to talk about last night if you’re not ready, but we do need to go over some things.” Natasha’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. Lena stayed silent, her eyes flicking to Natasha. Melinda continued, her voice careful. “We’ve realized we haven’t been very clear about the rules here,” Melinda said. “And we owe you both an apology for that. Communication is important and we should have been more direct.” Phil leaned forward, his voice warm but serious. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help, but we need to make sure you understand that there aren’t punishments here like where you were.”
Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing his words.She glanced at Lena, who was staring down at her hands, the faintest tremor running through them. Lena’s face was blank but her body language was tense, ready to bolt at the slightest wrong move. Natasha’s eyes narrowed at him and Phil felt something akin to nervous as the girl seemed to look right through him. Natasha exhaled sharply, making Yelena suppress a flinch. “There’s always a punishment when you mess up.” Her tone was flat, like she was stating a fact. “Not for things you can’t control, nightmares included. And there will never be physical punishments, the most you’d face is losing TV privileges or something small but that’s it.” Phil spoke gently. Natasha gave him a skeptical look. “TV privileges? That’s it?” Phil nodded. “That’s it. We want to work with you, not against you.” There was a pause, the weight of Natasha’s mistrust palpable. She crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive posture. Lena shifted beside her but said nothing, her gaze flicking between her sister and the adults. Melinda leaned forward slightly. “Would it help if we wrote down the rules? A set of guidelines that everyone here has to follow, including us. That way, nothing is unclear, and you can even suggest rules for the list.” Natasha blinked, her guard faltering for a moment. “We get to make the rules too?” “As long as it doesn’t involve something that might hurt yourself or others, yes,” Melinda said. “This is your home too, and we want you to know you have a say.”
Natasha glanced sideways at Lena, whose gaze remained fixed on her hands. The idea of making rules was new to both of them. “Think about it,” Phil added, sensing their hesitation. “We’re not in any rush. We just want to make sure you feel safe.” There was another beat of silence before Melinda gently shifted the topic. “How’s your hand, Lena?” she asked, her voice still gentle. Natasha cut in. “She’s fine. She’s still useful.” The words were sharp and defensive. Both girls knew what happened to Widows deemed not useful.
Melinda’s brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t react to Natasha’s defensiveness. “I wasn’t asking to check her usefulness, Natasha. I was asking because I was worried and I care.” Lena shifted, feeling a little suffocated. It was a dislocated thumb, not an amputation. She couldn’t make clear of the fact that both of them had seemed so worried. “It’s fine.” Lena’s hoarse voice came out softly. Melinda met her eyes, scanning her, “We have splints if you want, but would you try to put some ice on it?” Lena looked down to see her sister’s eyes inspect the bruised skin around her thumb. She looked back at Melinda and nodded. Phil got up slowly and asked, “Do you want a splint too?” The younger girl shook her head and he gave her a soft smile. “Okay, I’ll be right back with ice,”
Melinda watched as Phil left the room before shifting her focus back to Natasha and Lena. She hesitated for a moment, considering her next words. "Can you tell me about the handcuffs?” Natasha shifted uncomfortably slightly, her eyes darting to Lena before fixing on Melinda. “Before Widows graduate,” Natasha began, her voice low and steady, “they cuff them to the beds every night.” She paused, as if weighing her words carefully. “To make sure we couldn’t run, we couldn't fight back. So we knew our place. I did Graduation in June.” Her voice was clinical, almost detached, but the way her hands clenched together gave away her tension. Despite Lena’s swirling mind, she took her sister’s hand. She knew her sister hated that she Graduated.
“I see,” Melinda replied softly. She didn’t press further in spite of her curiosity, not wanting to overwhelm them. “I’m sorry that happened to you both.” There's a pause as both girls take in the fact that Melinda apologized. It wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t nearly the worst thing about the Red Room. “Would you consider trying something softer? Something looser, just to make sure you’re not injuring yourself?” Melinda’s question broke both of them out of their thoughts. Lena didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her eyes drifted, her mind slipping into a place somewhere far away from the dining room. Her breath hitched slightly as old memories tugged at her, the sensation of metal cutting into her wrists, the echo of crying girls when she first got to Seven. They had all learned quickly not to cry. She felt a rush of panic, but it was muted, a low hum in the back of her mind. The question lingered in the air for a long moment before she gave the faintest of shrugs, her expression unreadable. Her mind seemed far away, lost in some place neither could reach. Melinda didn’t push. She had seen this kind of withdrawal before. “It’s just an option,” she said softly. “If you ever want to try it, I can give you some options. No rush.” There was a tension in Yelena’s shoulders that made it clear the idea of change, even something this small, felt like too much right now. She needed them. Some nights the bite of the cuff was all that kept her tethered to reality. The soft cuffs didn’t have the same effect but the pressure was enough. Breaking the slight tension, Phil returned with towel-wrapped ice and handed it to Yelena. He was careful to practically choreograph his movements so neither girl would be surprised by sudden motion. With his other hand, he set down a glass pan in the middle of the table. “Breakfast casserole, just came out of the oven, I’ll grab everyone some plates.” When he returned, he set down plates for everyone, handing his wife a spatula.
“I thought you might like this,” Phil added, placing a sealed cereal cup in front of her. Lena’s eyes flickered toward it. She had started eating non-sealed food over the last few weeks, but it was as if Phil had guessed that she might want something safe and familiar today. It was a simple gesture, but it almost made her eyes water. Internally berating herself at her emotions, Lena nodded her thanks without speaking and peeled back the plastic seal deliberately. When everyone’s food had been dished out, Natasha waited for the adults to eat before taking a small bite herself. Deeming it okay, she took a bigger bite in her sister’s line of sight. After chewing and swallowing, she put a small bit on her fork and offered it to Yelena. Both Melinda and Phil watched the interaction quietly. It was a good thing, Melinda supposed, that they at least had each other. Neither of them could imagine either girl by themselves despite Phil knowing they were separated. When Phil thought back to the hostile little girl that Yelena had been when they first met. The girl that had vehemently denied they were sisters. The girl that hadn’t believed Natasha was worried about her. So despite everything, there was progress.
Melinda sipped her coffee and broke the quiet, her voice light and casual, a deliberate shift in tone. “We were thinking, maybe after breakfast, we could go to a clothing store,” she suggested. “You both could pick out a few things for school.” Lena paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth, and glanced at Natasha. The mention of school pulled her thoughts back to the tests she had taken recently to place her into a grade. The idea of being surrounded by other kids, of being in an unfamiliar environment, made her stomach tighten. She didn’t like the idea of being away from Natasha, and by the look on her sister’s face, Natasha didn’t either. Natasha tensed beside her, her fingers curling into a fist on the table nervously. She knew, logically, that it might be good for her sister to have something else to focus on. Lena needed to be around other kids her age. Natasha sighed quietly, glancing at Phil, who had subtly given her a few pamphlets in front of her for pre-SHIELD academy programs and community college courses a few weeks ago. She hadn’t given it much thought yet, too focused on keeping them safe. Lena didn’t say anything either. She had tested well above her grade level so the prospect of school wasn’t terrifying in itself. But there was a disconnect. Blurry memories of kindergarten in Ohio were so different to what she was used to now. She wasn’t sure how she’d fit into it. “I think it’d be good to have some choices,” Melinda added, her tone gentle but firm. “It’s just clothes for now. You don’t have to make any big decisions yet.”
Natasha nodded, her jaw still tight. “Okay,” she said, though her voice was stiff. Lena swallowed, kind of excited at the prospect of going to the store. She hadn’t even thought about what she’d wear to school. Clothes seemed so trivial compared to everything else swirling in her mind, but maybe this was one of those normal things they were supposed to do now. The younger girl looked up at Melinda and gave a small nod. “Okay.”