the sacrificial lamb
Layla wasn’t really sure what to make of Yelena. She seemed to follow her everywhere, mimicking what she was doing, and begging her to play games. Layla didn’t exactly know how to interact with her so she let her follow, mostly tuning out Yelena’s incessant chatter.
Layla jolts awake as her door handle is scrabbled at. It was too early, even for Widows. She grabbed the knife she’d taken from the kitchen and shoved underneath her pillow, carefully opening the door. At the sight of Yelena, she freezes, quickly tucking the blade away in a drawer.
“Play?” Yelena asks, and Layla stares at her small face, still squishy-cheeked and rosy. That would vanish when they all went back to the Red Room.
“Didn’t your mommy put you in your bed last night?” Yelena still had bars surrounding her bed, meaning she couldn’t get out without assistance. Layla has never had anything to make her truly think any ill will of Melina, but Yelena was barely not a baby. She needed to be looked after.
“Mommy put me in bed. But it opened when I pulled it.”
Layla internally sighs - that was probably an accident, if a silly one. Melina was the ruthless Iron Maiden, a Widow of high rank known for her callousness and clinical accuracy. For Melina to leave the latch on Yelena’s crib unlocked was such a simple oversight but Layla supposes even ruthless killing machines can make mistakes. “Okay. It’s still time for you to sleep. I’ll shut your bed back up.”
Yelena folds her arms. “No. Sleep in here.”
Layla shakes her head. “No. You’re going back to bed.”
Yelena’s face crumples up and Layla shoves a hand over her mouth before internally swearing, picking up the child. Melina did this to comfort her. Yelena seemed placated by this, curling into Layla. Layla is still not exactly sure what to do so she walks around the room, humming a song she heard on the radio. If Yelena woke up the whole house it would be Layla’s fault, and she didn’t want that. She didn’t know if they’d blame Yelena too, and Yelena was too small to be hurt.
Yelena’s hands grip Layla’s shirt tightly, her face buried into her shoulder. All Layla can think about is how little she is, how fine she seems with Layla holding her. Layla’s hands are caked with blood, her ledger dripping with red, yet Yelena doesn’t know and doesn’t care. Layla’s not sure she should even be allowed to hold her.
Yelena slowly droops more into her shoulder, her breath slowing. Layla continues to pace and sway, scared of what would happen if she stopped. Widows were made of marble and never scared, pain was the best language they knew, but Yelena wasn’t really a Widow yet. Layla didn’t want her to get hurt.
Layla realizes Yelena has fallen asleep and her heart seems to stop beating for a few minutes. Yelena shouldn’t fall asleep on her. You only fell asleep around people you trust, and Yelena should never trust her. Because Layla El-Faouly was untrustworthy. She’d killed everyone she cared for until she learned to stop caring in the first place.
Layla paces her room as the sun starts to peek through the cracks in the curtains, her not-really-cousin warm and soft in her arms. She really should put Yelena back into her own bed before she’s discovered missing, yet each time she makes the movement to leave her room, her feet twist and take her back toward the window in a tug-of-war. Layla didn’t want to let Yelena go yet. She was soft and warm and innocent. Layla wanted to soak up the moment to remember later on.
When her feet finally do let her exit her own room, Layla shuffles slowly down the hall, trying to rationalize that she was trying to be quiet and not make any noise, not that she was going slow because she was stalling.
Layla sets Yelena back into her own bed, and debates about doing the latch up on her crib before deciding to leave it undone again in case Melina had left it unlocked for a reason.
Layla returns to her bedroom alone, her arms still warm.
Yelena appears at Layla’s side more and more often. Layla’s not sure how she feels about this, making little attempt to interact with her.
She had comforted Yelena when she hadn’t slept, but that was weeks ago. Layla wasn’t even sure why Yelena liked her - Melina was meant to be the mom. She was the fake cousin who was staying with them post her parent’s death. She wasn’t really her family, even in this elaborate fantasy, they were acting. And yet, Yelena followed her like a shadow, begging to play games.
Layla glances at Melina as Yelena hangs off her arm for the second time in five minutes, pleading to be picked up. Melina didn’t seem to react, simply observing. Layla wishes she’d react for once, wishes she knew what was allowed. It wasn’t just her who would get hurt now.
She gives in and picks the little girl up, Yelena reaching up to squeeze her cheeks, chattering away. Layla tries to keep herself detached, aware of the older Widow’s eyes on her. She walks with Yelena out of the room. Only after leaving does she let herself relax slightly, holding the girl in what was sure to be a more comfortable position.
She can see Natalia’s eyes watching her as she walks up the stairs to set the girl in her room with her toys. Layla still has no idea how to play, but Yelena seems fine when she just half-heartedly attempts to engage with her. She leaves the door open, knowing Natalia is still watching.
Alexei is loud when he comes home that night, the smell of alcohol almost comfortingly familiar to Layla. Natalia seems to notice it but Yelena is oblivious, singing as she plays with her food.
Layla doesn’t know how Alexei would react to alcohol. Some of the soldiers in the Red Room just hurt them, others would get very handsy with the Widows. Layla glances at the two girls, both young and soft and with baby fat in their cheeks.
She couldn’t gauge Alexei, really. He didn’t want to be here, she knew that, but she had no reference to what he was like drunk. He’d only hit her once when she’d tried to take some food in the middle of the night, the blow hitting her stomach and almost making her vomit. But Layla was used to that - in fact, she’d expected to be hit more.
But alcohol made the soldiers different, even if they were never nice in the first place. And Layla didn’t want to have to intercept anything, but ultimately she didn’t matter. She was a Widow and had to obey her handler. She had no excuse to be scared, she had once been just as small and little as they were.
She takes Yelena upstairs when Alexei slams his fist into the table, a glass shattering as it falls onto the floor with the force.
Yelena stares at her in wonder as Layla sets her down on her bed, closing the door softly behind her. She left Natalia in the kitchen and guilt crawls in her stomach, but she pushes it away. Natalia didn’t want anything to do with her and she can’t blame her. Removing Yelena was just getting rid of an accident waiting to happen.
Yelena cuddles up against Layla as she sits down. Layla doesn’t know what to do, so she lets her stay there, keeping her hands held in her lap. Yelena plays with them, counting with her fingers.
There’s a scream from downstairs and the sound of skittering footsteps. Layla pulls Yelena close instinctively, setting her into her lap. Her door opens and closes as Natalia shoves herself in, refusing to look at Layla. The room is quiet as another crash sounds.
Yelena sniffles and Layla doesn’t know what to do, so she holds the girl close, wishing that this would all blow over quickly. Yelena huddles into her, small hands grasping the neckline of her shirt in an attempt to tug herself closer.
There’s still loud noise from downstairs as the sky darkens, Yelena falling asleep in Layla’s lap. Layla tries to remove her to tuck her under the covers but stops when she whines. Natalia starts falling asleep standing up, fighting to stay awake. Widows didn’t sleep if they weren’t safe and Layla knew Natalia didn’t trust her.
After the girl almost topples a third time, Layla calls out to her softly. “Natasha. Sleep in the bed. I’ll keep watch.”
Natalia hesitates but eventually comes over, letting Layla pull the covers over her. “I don’t trust you.”
“I know,” she replies, shifting Yelena in her lap. “But it’s better for one of us to stay awake so that the other is well rested if we need to fight.”
Layla knew she was the better fighter, knew that Natalia couldn’t stay awake much longer, but the girl took the lie, closing her eyes. She only falls asleep as the house quiets down, a sound almost scarier than the noise.
Then it’s just Layla, sitting in her room with a child on her lap and a child in her bed. Natalia shouldn’t trust her. Yelena shouldn’t trust her, but she hadn’t been taught otherwise. She waits for the door to open, to fight Alexei, or please him, or whatever he asks her to do because she is a Widow and she doesn’t matter. Because those girls are too young and Layla can’t let anything happen to them.
The door never opens. Layla stays awake the whole night, the soft breaths of her younger not-really-cousins filling the quiet room.
Yelena continues to shadow her after that. Layla lets her, picking her up when she asks. Melina doesn’t say anything, so she takes that as permission. She avoids Alexei like the plague.
Yelena is three. Yelena is not a Widow. Layla sees how she cries without fear, as she bounces around the house, as she begs people to play. She isn’t scared of repercussions and it scares Layla in a way that she’s not sure how to name.
She can protect Yelena. She’s a nuisance that could endanger the mission. If Yelena is always with her, Layla can keep her safe. She’s not sure anyone else would bother, really.
Yelena is a nuisance and a problem and an accident waiting to happen. Layla can’t help but soften around her.
While Yelena likes to follow Layla around like a duckling, Natalia would follow like a shadow. She had a few years of training under her belt so she would do her best to try and follow Layla undetected but Layla could always catch a glimpse of her if she kept an eye out.
There didn’t seem to be any reason for Natalia to follow her. She simply observed, never really joining in but content to stray just outside of whatever was currently happening. Layla doesn’t really interact with her and in turn, Natalia doesn’t reach out. They’re Widows - they’re not social and they’re not good at forming connections with other Widows.
Layla was content to let things be but Melina had other plans. She enters Layla’s bedroom early one morning and tells her to head to the garage, that they’re going to train so that she doesn’t slack off. Layla hadn’t realized that Melina meant Natalia too until she saw the child already waiting in the garage.
Melina has them warm up with ballet. It’s nothing new to Layla, she had gotten used to the routine long ago. It’s only as they progress throughout different sets that she realizes that they’re moving onto more and more advanced routines. Natalia’s age group wouldn’t have gone through them yet, not when they were still growing into their bodies.
Natalia struggles but she adapts quickly, just as Widows were taught. But they continue, progressing further and further until Layla can see that Natalia is going to get hurt trying to mimic the sets. She was simply too young for it to work.
Layla’s own calves are burning, she can feel sweat forming on her brow and she can only imagine how much more exhausted the girl beside her was. Melina keeps pushing until Layla has to speak up before everything goes wrong. “She hasn’t learned these sets yet.”
Melina’s head snaps to peer at her and Layla doesn’t want to push and risk a punishment but she also cannot allow things to continue as they were. “I do not recall asking for your opinion.” Melina tells her and Layla inhales sharply. “She will adapt and learn, just as you once did.”
Layla glances at the girl beside her, watching as her chest heaves while she tries to control her breathing after exerting herself. “She is too small. She cannot do it. She will get hurt.”
“I can do it.” Natalia gets out through deep breaths as she tries to slow her breathing. “I am ready.”
“No.” Layla looks up at Melina. “She will get hurt and then you will have to explain that to the neighbors.”
“I refuse to have you slack in your training just because she cannot keep up,” Melina tells Layla, stepping forward. Layla stiffens, forcing herself to stay in place as Melina approaches her. “Do you disagree with me?”
Layla considers her options, weighing which one would have the best outcome. Layla bows her head, her hands behind her back as she speaks. “Yes.”
She already knew what was going to happen before it did. She inhales sharply, letting her head snap to the side with the blow of Melina’s hand against her cheek. “I asked if you disagreed with me.” Melina repeats her question, giving Layla a second chance to reconsider her answer.
“Yes.” Layla replies again. Melina’s hand grabs her face to yank her head up to look at her.
“Who is in charge here, hmm?” Melina demands, her fingers digging into Layla’s jaw.
“You are, ma’am.” Layla recites dutifully.
“And what are you?” Melina orders.
“I am a Widow. I am made of marble. I am yours.” Layla parrots what had long ago been ingrained into her mind. She knows that Melina is waiting for an apology, an acknowledgment of the power she held as Layla gives in to her.
Layla doesn’t grant it. “She’s still too little.”
Before Melina could retaliate again, Natalia cuts in. “I am a Widow too! I adapt and I adjust. I can do it.”
“She cannot,” Layla interrupts again before Natalia can get into trouble. Layla peers up into Melina’s eyes as she challenges her. “And you must be foolish to think otherwise.”
The hand gripping her face disappears and instead grabs the back of Layla’s neck as she’s forced down to her knees. Layla is aware of Natalia’s eyes on her as Melina keeps forcing her head down until her forehead touches the cold garage floor. “Natalia.” Melina addresses her and Layla closes her eyes as she listens. “Go upstairs into the master bedroom and fetch one of Alexei’s leather belts.” Layla listens for the sound of Natalia’s footsteps. “Now.” Melina orders sharply.
Natalia leaves the room quickly and Layla focuses on keeping her breathing calm. Even when Melina’s hand leaves the back of her neck, she stays kneeling with her head pressed to the floor.
Natalia returns a few moments later and Layla can hear the leather squeak as it exchanges hands. “Leave.” Melina orders Natalia and Layla feels a rush of relief hit her as she hears Natalia’s footsteps leave the garage, the door clicking shut behind her.
Layla braces her hands on the ground in preparation for what she knew was coming. Her back was wide open in this position and Melina could strike her anywhere her clothes would cover. Anywhere else could blow the mission.
“You will learn to listen to me,” Is all Melina says before the first strike connects with Layla’s back. Melina had not instructed her to count or to apologize after each strike so Layla let her mind wander as she usually did on these types of punishments.
She wonders how long Melina would have forced Natalia to go before she stopped. Surely she knew that Natalia’s body would not be able to handle it. Would Melina have gone until Natalia fainted? Until her body gave in from exhaustion?
Natalia may be a Widow but she is small and she is not ready.
Layla is vaguely aware of Melina speaking every few strikes. One statement in particular yanks Layla out of her own head.
“I am not a fool. You can try to look after the children all you want but they are not invincible and neither are you,” Melina states, and Layla recognizes the threat. “I am your superior and you will listen to me. You do as I say without any questions.” There was one last strike from the belt, harder than all the rest, before it abruptly stopped. “Do you understand?”
Layla keeps her head pressed to the cold floor, even after the blows had ended. “Yes ma’am.” She says.
“Then get up.” Melina orders.
Layla takes a deep breath before she pushes herself up onto her knees. She doesn’t feel the usual slick feeling of blood soaking her shirt and sticking to her skin as she usually would. She peers up at Melina, her eyes falling onto where the belt buckle had been clutched in Melina’s hand rather than the other end.
Melina had been light on her punishment. Layla aches fiercely when she pushes herself up to her feet but it’s manageable.
Melina steps forward until she can look down at Layla, their faces inches apart. “You are playing a dangerous game.” Melina warns. “End it before you regret it.”
And then Melina steps back and dismisses her. Layla stands there for a few moments, waiting for Melina to change her mind before she moves toward the garage door. She immediately heads upstairs and into the bathroom, tugging her shirt off and twisting to inspect the damaged flesh in the mirror.
Melina hadn’t broken the skin. In fact, Layla could tell she took extra caution not to. It was probably only due to the fact that Layla could bleed onto her shirt and blow their cover. But Melina could have made it hurt so much more.
Layla tugs her shirt back on and heads to her bedroom. She barely has the door open before a headful of red hair lunges at her. Layla twists to dodge out of the way of Natalia, who had been waiting for her to return to her room.
“I will prove to you that I can keep up just as well as you can,” Natalia informs her. That’s all the warning Layla gets before Natalia lunges at her again.
Layla is tired, her body aches, and she just wants to rest. She doesn’t want to fight an eight-year-old trying to prove their worth.
Layla simply dodges each attack that Natalia throws at her, reaching out to yank on Natalia’s shirt before she would hit her head on the dresser or bed frame. Each time Layla did so, Natalia would just get even more upset.
“Fight me!” Natalia orders, throwing everything she had been taught so far at Layla.
Layla eventually gets tired of dodging and yanking Natalia out of the way before she hurts herself in her foolish attempt to best her. The next time Layla grabbed her shirt, she also ducked down and grasped Natalia’s leg before hauling her up and onto the bed, pinning her down.
Natalia spends the next few minutes trying to escape from Layla’s grasp but Layla is fourteen and Natalia is eight. Natalia eventually swallows her pride and submits, going limp under Layla’s hold.
“I did not stop her because you couldn’t do it,” Layla says when Natalia had calmed down enough to listen. “You could. But your body couldn’t. Think of Yelena trying to do the training that you have been put through so far. She cannot, she is unsteady enough on her legs as it is, she wouldn’t be able to do ballet. She will be able to do it when she grows up a little more.”
Natalia stares up at her stubbornly, her teeth grit from where she glares at Layla. “You didn’t have to stop her.”
“Perhaps not…” Layla conceded. “But I did.”
Natalia continues to stare at Layla, her eyes searching for a reason why Layla did step in. “You’re hurt because of me.” She eventually says.
“It’s nothing,” Layla tells her, brushing it off. Her body did ache but she had been through so much worse.
Once again, Natalia eyes her suspiciously. Layla finally straightens up and lets Natalia sit up on the bed. “If you will not allow her to teach me then you do it.”
Layla has not taught other Widows before. She was always just one in a long line as the Madame paces in front of them and teaches them with a callous expression. The Madames utilized pain and fear of punishment to teach.
“Very well,” Layla inclines her head. “But this stays between us.”
Natalia nods her head in acknowledgment, a mirror of her gesture. Layla moves out of the way so that Natalia can slide off the bed but the girl pauses when she reaches the edge. Natalia hesitates before she speaks. “Do you need assistance dressing your wounds?” She offers.
“No. I’m alright,” Layla says and Natalia slides the rest of the way off the bed, leaving without another word.
Layla is unsure why she agreed to Natalia’s demand. She didn’t know how to teach without utilizing fear. And she refuses to have Natalia terrified to misstep in her presence.
She shouldn’t have stepped in. She shouldn’t have challenged Melina’s order. She should have just let things be.
Yet, she did. She’s unsure of why. Widows were not friendly with other Widows. They were competitive and only the strongest of them survived.
But Natalia is small. She is thin and her cheeks still have baby fat on them. She is determined and stubborn but she is just a child. Layla shouldn’t care about another Widow or what happens to them.
Yet, she finds herself not regretting her decision.