the mission, the sister, and the general
“She’s only six.” Natasha whispers.
She hugs Yelena tight with one hand behind her. She never wants to let go.
“You were even younger.”
*
She released her hold, the soft curtain slipping from her fingers. They laid on the floor as they gasped for breath.
“Tы выросла” ( You’ve grown) Natasha said.
Because that’s the only thing she can think of to say to a person (an estranged sister?) she hasn’t seen in twenty one years. Like a relative you only see every half a decade.
Yelena stilled, before she loosened the knot around her neck.
“Hи хрена” ( No shit )
Natasha bit her cheek at the coldness of her tone.
She got up and opened her mouth to speak, before Yelena walked into the kitchen.
“Yelena,” Natasha sighed and followed her. “Why’d you send me this?”
Yelena picked up a green vest sitting on a chair, “A ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I completely forgot about you all these years’ would be nice.”
She ignored Yelena (and the sting from her unabashed comment) and took out a handful of red vials attached to a picture, the red glow reflecting on a ripped polaroid. She cocked her eyebrow. Yelena glared at the illuminated picture before turning to Natasha.
“You brought it back?” She placed her fingers on the bridge of her nose.
Natasha passed it off to her, “You sent it to me. No note, no explanation.”
She flicked the polaroid, “I thought this was explanation enough.”
“A picture of us. When we were children,” Natasha felt exasperated. “ Really ?”
“A picture you gave me right before being taken by the Red Room.”
“Look, whatever this has to do with that, what you sent me came with repercussions. Someone is after this.”
Yelena snorted and shoved the vest into her backpack, “Red Room really wants it that bad, huh?”
A pause.
“What?”
Yelena walked into another room, one with a closet and rack of clothes. Natasha hastily followed her in.
“When you left, they decided the old training wasn’t enough to keep Widows from defecting. Everything’s chemical based now. Our hands don’t belong to our minds. Dreykov controls us, all of us. This, this is our only hope.” Yelena’s voice hardened as she shook the vials in her hand.
Natasha shook her head, “This doesn’t make sense.”
“Chemical subjugation, it’s an antidote-”
“No.” Natasha interrupted, “The Red Room is gone. Dreykov is dead. ”
“Do you really believe that? Don’t you think I would’ve reached out to you sooner?” Yelena snapped, packing the vials into her backpack.
“I decimated his entire office to ashes.”
“Did you check for his body?” Yelena said, eyes dark. She waited and when Natasha didn’t answer she spoke again.
“Including his daughter? She was in the building too”
Natasha flicked her eyes up, “I didn’t have to.”
She clenched her jaw and turned to change the outfit she’s been wearing for the past couple days. The shirt was sticky with blood.
“Your way of reaching out nearly got me killed. I’m supposed to be on the run.” Natasha took off her jacket.
Another snort. It’s starting to annoy Natasha.
“You don’t have to tell me. You’re all over the news.”
Pause. Natasha slid off her shirt.
“...and I thought you could help us. You’re the only superhero person I know.”
Natasha stayed silent. She’s just a girl with a gun. Yelena glanced at her and blinked in surprise.
“What? ” Natasha says bluntly.
“Your back.” Yelena mumbled, tearing her eyes away.
Natasha turned around, another shirt already on, “What about it?”
Yelena shrugged. “The bruises all over your back.”
Natasha clenched her jaw, “Yeah, well, that’s the result of getting thrown off a bridge.”
“Courtesy of your friend.” Natasha adds.
Yelena furrowed her brows, “I don’t have any friends.”
“Right. ” Natasha said awkwardly, “So the man in the suit who attacked me with the skills of a widow on a bridge last night…not yours?”
Yelena stilled, a silence overcoming her for once. That caught Natasha’s attention.
“What did he look like?”
Natasha raised her eyebrow. “Why, do you know him?”
Yelena clicked in her tongue in distaste and walked out to the kitchen once more. Natasha shoved on a hoodie, the smell emitting a shampoo. She followed her out.
“That man, his name is TaskMaster.” Yelena breathed out, exhaustion creeping, “He can mimic anyone’s fight pattern, skill set, you name it. He’s Dreykov’s new star student.”
Natasha glared at her, full well knowing what Yelena had meant at the last of her comment. New star student .
“So what you’re telling me,” Natasha said slowly. “Is that he’s a problem for me.”
“For us .” Yelena corrected and shrugged her shoulders to show her backpack.
She glanced at the bag before she met Yelena’s eyes. They’re deep green. They look exactly how she remembered them.
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
Natasha forgot how much familiarity hurt.
*
Family. What a fucking joke .
The last thing she wanted to do was see Melina. It hurt seeing her almost as it did seeing Yelena for the first time. Almost.
She didn’t want to look at her, Melina didn’t deserve a warm welcome. But she could feel it, the gaze and the intensity of the atmosphere. The first time they were together after all this time. Natasha looked towards the field, away from her eyes. Melina’s been here all this time. She pursed her lips into a thin line and followed them into the house.
It didn’t mean anything if she didn’t let it.
She didn’t realize what was happening at first. They were sitting around the dinner table talking about nonsense. Like it was 1995 again. Natasha took a shot, watched Yelena mimic her move. Then she watched Yelena’s eyes water. Watched her slowly realize their mother’s betrayal and watched the ache behind her big eyes throb. The realization that the reason why their entire family was constructed would be the eventual cause of Yelena’s suffering. The expression all too familiar.
“Enough.” Natasha said sternly to Melina, staring at Yelena.
“Don’t worry, Alexie could’ve gone eleven more seconds.”
That’s not who she was worried about.
*
Natasha snapped. She called them stupid and cowards. She pretended like she wasn’t one either. Words came tumbling out before Natasha could stop herself.
“It wasn’t real, none of it was real. We were never a family.”
And Natasha tasted the bitterness on her tongue as she finished her sentence. She almost felt a little satisfaction, to her guilt, at seeing the look on their faces. But she caught Yelena’s face in the sun.
“Don’t say that, please...don’t say that.”
Natasha felt a tear roll down. She quickly wiped it away.
“It was real to me.” Yelena voice cracked.
She can’t tear her eyes away from the table and she can’t ignore the pounding rock suddenly developing in her throat.
“You were my sister, you were my real sister.” Melina reached out to touch Yelena, her hand swatted away.
Natasha took a sharp inhale, still staring at the table.
Yelena scoffed through her tears, “You can’t even look at me.”
Coward. Coward. Coward.
“The best part of my life was fake and none of you told me.” Natasha felt her words gnaw at her, within her chest, within her soul.
“And you? Natasha, look at me.” Yelena said, her voice hardened near the end.
Natasha flicked her gaze to the blond.
“You got out. Dreykov made sure no one could escape. And you were the only one who left. You left .” Yelena spit out. You left me.
And suddenly all the regret and sorrow dissipated and all Natasha could feel was blood pumping in her ears. Rage. Natasha shot up from her chair, Yelena doing the same.
“Aren’t you going to say any-”
Natasha snapped, “You don’t know what I had to go through to escape.”
“Do you know what I had to go through when you left? What all the widows had to face after your escape? Because of your escape?” Yelena hastily ran her hand over her braids.
Because of you. Because of YOU.
“That’s not fair.” Natasha’s voice wavered.
“It is completely fair. That’s exactly what happened.”
“What each of us went through was completely different.”
“Oh yes, prancing around freely with your arrow boy while every part of my body was being used as a tool by Dreykov is completely different.”
Natasha clenched her jaw.
“Don’t you think I know how that feels?”
She heard the coldness in her voice, but she couldn’t stop.
“I’m not going to pretend like I know what you went through, but don’t try to act like you know what happened to me. You don’t even understand how glad I was when I found out you didn’t undergo the original training.” Natasha added quietly.
Yelena’s fist curled.
“Glad? Glad! God, you are so FUCKED UP!” Yelena yelled.
Natasha doesn’t flinch. But there’s a sting in her left rib.
“I am, don’t you think I know I am? I spent everyday of the last ten years realizing how incredibly fucked up I am. Everyday in the real world is a reminder of how horrible our lives have been. Isn’t that what you said? Pain and suffering is everyday?”
Natasha held Yelena’s gaze.
“We can point fingers and start fights with each other. But let me make this clear. The man who started this all. The man who tore us from our homes. The man who causes pain and suffering everyday, and who will continue to cause pain and suffering to countless other young girls out there. That man is Dreykov. And we’re here to kill him. Let’s not forget that.”
Natasha ended with her fist banged against the table.
Yelena scoffed.
“Despite your ‘hero speech’, there is still so much Red Room left in you.”
Natasha sighed, exasperated. “What are you even talking about?”
“Mission first. Emotions never. Is that what you plan to do? Bury your emotions, bury everything that’s happened?”
“If that’s what it takes, yes.”
“God, you really don’t care. Maybe you just never cared.” Yelena sneered and wiped her wet cheek with the back of her hand.
She snatched up the vodka in one hand and turned her back.
“Yelena,” Natasha called.
“No.” Yelena walked forward.
Natasha chewed her lip.
“Yelena, please.” I’m sorry.
Yelena stopped, the bottle hanging in her hand loosely.
“To me you were everything,” Yelena said, the loathing in her voice clear. “Imagine that.”
She scoffed again softly and the door slammed shut.
Natasha put her head in her hands. She didn't realize she was crying until she felt tears running down her face on her fingers.
I should have came back for her.
The three of them sat in silence.
“I’ll go talk to her.” Alexie said, talking for the first time in twenty minutes.
*
Yelena sat against the bed. Her head ached but she kept sipping from the nearly drained bottle in her hand. There was a splitting pain in her chest.
“Natasha loves you, Yelena. She’s just…angry.”
She flicked her eyes up to the chair he was sitting in across from her. He was in that stupid red suit that he cared so much for.
“What about you?” Yelena took a swig, “Do you love me?”
Alexie looked at her, confused, his mouth slightly agape. She wanted to let out a laugh, she thought it was funny he couldn’t even respond to that, but it came out with a crack and more tears running down her face.
“Did you and Mom ever love us?”
He looked at her for a bit before he nodded once and slow.
“Yes. We loved both of you.” Alexie spoke softly.
She stared at him with red eyes and flushed cheeks, from the alcohol.
She slurred her words when she spoke.
“Then how could you give us to him?”
*
Natasha stood alone with the last person she wanted to be with.
“You know,” Natasha began. “If she’s this betrayed by me, I can’t imagine how she feels about you.”
Melina opened her mouth to say something, hurt in her eyes, but Natasha walked away. This time she was the one who got to leave.
“Where are you going?”
Do you remember, that one day we were going to have that big adventure?
“To do this myself.”
Today’s the day.
Yay!
A sigh from the older woman.
“You’ll die and it’ll be a useless sacrifice.”
Natasha turned around. Melina’s eyes were unyielding.
I’m sorry.
*
Melina and Natasha came up with a plan together. They switched suits, the black making Natasha’s breath hitch. She hasn’t worn her suit since the airport, since she was with the team. Natasha shook her head.
Melina gave Natasha a rundown. The Red Room’s location was in the sky, Natasha laughed before realizing it wasn’t a joke. There are more Widows than Natasha thought, all tracked and controlled on Dreykov’s tablet. With Dreykov’s tablet only being able to be activated by him, she’d have to get the passcode out of him. Which meant interrogation. Which also meant, facing him.
Natasha swallowed whatever fear arose and Melina raised her eyebrow as she strapped her guns to her hips.
“Can you handle him?” There’s worry in her voice.
Natasha smiled slyly, “I can handle anything.”
She’s proud of how smooth her voice is, because it’s not her real answer.
Melina nodded wearily and passed Natasha a prosthetic veil and two ear pieces.
A thud from the next room and shouts make Natasha perk up.
“They’re here.” Melina said as she slid on the veil and ear piece.
Natasha found herself staring back at her own face as she slid on her own prosthetic.
“I’ll give this earpiece to Yelena.” Natasha said quickly, she could hear footsteps from the next room.
“Hurry.” Natasha could tell Melina was scared.
Natasha was too.
Natasha activated her Widow’s Bite. It felt familiar on her wrist, the weight comfortable. She aimed it at Melina.
“Eto budet bol'no.” ( This will hurt )
*
She came face to face with Yelena’s gun. Natasha felt a little pang of guilt seeing the betrayal on Yelena’s face.
“I’m sorry.” Natasha said, Melina’s voice spilling out of her.
Red shot out of her wrist and Yelena crumbled to the floor.
Heavy footsteps made Natasha whip her head to the living room. He was there. Taskmaster.
“Let’s not keep him waiting. Let’s deliver him his package.”
Natasha could hear her heart thundering.
She was going to deliver death.
*
Looking into the sky and taking off, she really wished Clint was here with her.
*
Natasha made sure Yelena was safe. As the guards strapped Yelena down to the gurney, she slipped the ear piece into her ear and a knife into her hand. Both concealed enough that a person wouldn’t notice unless they paid close attention.
Natasha glanced down at her. Yelena could handle herself. She’ll be safe. She’ll be okay. She repeats that twice mentally to assure herself enough to leave her alone.
Natasha closed her eyes and gently squeezed Yelena’s hand. She owed this to her.
Then she left.
She asked a guard to deliver her to Dreykov. They passed by rooms. Natasha peeked into some. Women training in unison. Other’s had younger girls dismantling guns. One room had girls screaming.
Natasha flinched at the sound, familiarity striking through her. She was really back. She was here. The place that made her. The home that she grew up in.
The heart of the beast.
The guard left her at an elevator. The doors sealed shut and Natasha could see a security camera whirring in the top corner. He was watching her. Natasha reminded herself she was wearing someone else’s face to calm her nerves. The elevator doors opened. Every step closer to his office felt exhilarating and dreadful. She had confidence in her self. She and Barton took years to deconstruct and undo every trigger word or action of hers that they knew of. That they knew of.
Natasha pushed the heavy doors open. She felt like she had just opened Pandora’s box as her eyes met the figure in the corner of the room.
He was sitting there with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a screen with security footage in the other. Ringing started in her ears. Her head was consumed with the pounding of her heart, so much hatred, so much pain. She wanted to smash his head against the wall and watch the blood drip down onto her shoes. Patience she told herself as she watched Taskmaster stand against the wall.
“Look at you in that suit.” Dreykov grinned.
Natasha stepped forward and already tasted bile in her throat, the phrase unfamiliar.
Dreykov stood up and walked closer to Natasha. Too close for Natasha’s liking. She begged her body not to reel away. He smelled like cheap cologne.
“How was the reunion with the family?” He asked, accent coated in Russian.
She rolled her eyes, “Boring. They were clingy and emotional. It was a-”
He cut her off, “And Romanova?”
She stilled at the mention of her Russian surname. “She was there, yes. She’s in a holding cell as of right now.”
Dreykov landed a hand on the small of her back and Natasha could feel her whole body tense up at the motion. She inhaled sharply. He lead her over to the chair in front of the desk, but she didn’t sit down.
“Good.” Dreykov grunted.
“I have the vials, they’re contained in the lower level labs in the left wing.” She hoped Melina and Yelena were listening.
“I don’t give a shit about the vials. Sit .” He ordered as he placed a hand on her shoulder and shoved her down onto the seat.
Natasha blinked in surprise, “What?”
He sighed in frustration, like he was talking to a child who didn’t know any better, and gripped her head tightly. Natasha closed her eyes and tried not to shrink from his touch.
“This whole situation with the vials...did you really think I let a Widow escape from under me?” He chuckled. “...and secretly concoct an antidote behind my back?”
He released her head roughly, her head flung forward. Natasha opened her eyes. He walked over and leaned against the desk in front of her with a grotesque grin painted on his lips.
“You take me for an imbecile. This was all a ploy...a plan. To get back what I own. To find the traitor.” Dreykov said. A sinking feeling begun to arise in Natasha. She heard Melina’s voice in her ear, though most of it was static. Dreykov must’ve put a counteractive signal around his office.
He leaned in close, close enough for Natasha to feel his breath on her cheek. Natasha felt a chill go down her back.
“The one that got away.”
Natasha held Dreykov’s stare. Suddenly her earpiece was being ripped out and crushed right in front of her eyes. Calm. He’d find out eventually.
“Did you find her?” Natasha glared.
“When you look into the eyes of a child you created,” He raised a hand to touch her face.
Natasha grabbed it instinctively, her eyes never leaving his. He pulled away. This time she let him touch her face. She steeled her herself. She wanted to leave.
“No mask in the world can hide that.” He finished.
He slowly tore off the veil and Natasha felt the air hit her skin again. Now she’s truly face to face with him. She darkened her eyes, made sure he could see the hatred behind them.
“Welcome home.”
Natasha clenched her jaw. She would kill him in an instant if it wasn’t for the looming human weapon in the background.
“How did you know Yelena Belova would reach me?”
“How do you know she’s not part of this? How do you know I didn’t send her to kill you?” Amusement lingered in his voice.
“You think she’d be able to kill me? That she would even have a chance?” She loves Yelena. She trusts Yelena. But Natasha can feel the doubt start to pool in her stomach.
“No, I just know you’re not strong enough to kill her.”
Her voice emotionless, absent, cold. “I will. If that’s what it takes, I’ll put a bullet straight through her head right after I do the same with you.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. Belova meant something to you back in your youth. A sister she called you. Could you kill your own sestra, Natalia?”
Natasha shot up at the sound of her old name, the chair flying back. Dreykov smiled. In the corner of her eye, she could see Taskmaster pull out his gun. Dreykov put a hand out.
“Don’t damage my new toy.” He mocked. “Go get the other girl.”
Natasha furrowed her brows. Other one? But Taskmaster knew what it meant and left the office. Natasha waited until the doors closed before immediately pulling out her gun. She cocked her head to the right.
“That was a mistake.” She pressed her finger gently on the trigger. “You just sent away the one person that could stop me.”
Dreykov’s smile grew. Like a cat showing its fangs at the mouse.
“Really? The only one?”
She hated the way he wasn’t afraid. She wanted him begging for his life, preferably on his knees.
“How many Widows are there?” Natasha really didn’t want to know the answer.
Dreykov scoffed, “Why? So you can rescue them? Is this your version of redemption for all the innocent blood you spilled?”
Natasha ignored his taunt, “Why wait to hunt me down now? You could’ve done this five years ago.”
Dreykov rolled his eyes, “Five years ago, you became very comfortable with a western organization that offered protection. You hid behind gods and a shield. Steve Rogers wouldn’t have liked his bed warmer gone, now would he?”
Natasha pressed the end of her gun against his temple harshly, “Shut the fuck up.”
She’s dreamed about this moment. Laid in bed with her body bloody and battered, thinking of the way holding the metal will feel against his forehead. Watched her friends die, wondering how his eyes would fear her peering over him.
Instead, Dreykov smiled drunkenly and raised his hands in mocked fear.
“Oh come now, Natalia. Don’t play dumb with me. Everybody knew. What did a girl with a trigger happy finger offer to the boys club? Oh yes, I forget. You specialize in seduction.”
Natasha snarled and cocked her gun, “Were you this smug when I killed your daughter? ”
Dreykov’s smile dropped slightly.
“How did it feel when I took her from you?”
“I see now, how America has changed you.”
She narrows her eyes, preparing for the kill.
“You waltz into my office. You mock the murdering of my daughter. Then you think you can kill me and walk out alive? I already told you.”
“Last words, General .” Natasha can visualize the bullet in his brain.
“We expected you.” Dreykov watched Natasha’s eyes.
We?
He raises an eyebrow and turns his eyes to door.
Natasha’s heart sank. No.
The door creaks and heel clicks were echoed into the room.
There was only one woman who wore heels in the Red Room.
She walks briskly into the room. Tall, lean, and a tight blond bun strapped to her head. She held herself high with her hands behind her back. But her gaze. It was as cold and undenying in Natasha’s nightmares.
“Privet, Natalia.”