Chapter 12
The first time that Yelena saw her sister after they were separated from Ohio, she was twenty and was wearing her suit, blood pooling around her as she recovered from the slaughter she was just part of. It was a human trafficking ring and she was at the very top of the hierarchy, a very nice knife having sliced her throat. That wasn’t something Yelena was risking bleeding out for.
Khonshu had told her that she was getting reckless, taking chances and doing things that would kill her merely because she knew that Khonshu was going to bring her back. Yelena denied it but she thinks that perhaps she was growing too dependent on the afterlife, desperate to be young and innocent again with her protective big sister at her side.
But when footsteps fall just outside the door, Yelena clambers to her feet, feeling woozy from the loss of blood. Her grip tightens on her gun and she raised her arm just as the person enters.
Both figures freeze. Yelena wonders if she was hallucinating at the figure in front of her. There is Natalia Romanova or as she was best know as, Natasha Romanoff.
Yelena almost expects Natasha to say something before she realizes that she’s wearing her suit. She opens her mouth to speak but remembers the harsh severing of her throat moments before.
She makes a move to bolt. She can’t remove the suit to show her face and she can’t promise that she’s not a threat.
“Wait--” Natasha says and her voice makes Yelena freeze. “White Knight, stop. I don’t want to fight.”
Yelena paused, the grip on her gun tightening. She barely turned toward Natasha to show that she was listening.
“I know that you’re a Widow,” Natasha starts slowly and Yelena’s breath hitched as she resists the urge to scratch at the skin healing together just under her mask. “It’s okay. The Red Room is gone. You’re free.”
Yelena frowns, screwing her face up. The Red Room was not gone. She was still taking out active Red Room agents with Khonshu’s help. She shakes her head, her eyes glancing around for Khonshu to see if he could tell her whether Natasha really was there. She takes another step back, tensing up when Natasha stretched her arm out.
“I’m not lying to you. I’m Natasha Romanoff. Natalia Romanov. The Black Widow,” Natasha holds her hands out as if Yelena was a wounded animal. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
Yelena briefly looks down at herself, her white suit soaked in blood, some of it being hers. She can’t talk, even if she wanted to. She needs to retreat. She turns and she hears Natasha move closer.
It’s an instinct drilled in her as her hand flies up to the point the gun at her. Natasha pauses and Yelena’s breath hitched at the thought of just pointing a gun at the woman who had only ever loved her.
“Easy,” Natasha has her hands outstretched. “It’s alright. I only want to talk. Can you put the weapon down?”
Yelena swallows hard, feeling her healing throat burn with the movement. She shakes her head, Natasha should know more than anyone that Widows simply don’t put their weapons down.
“Okay. Then can you lower it please?” Natasha asked and Yelena’s hand shakes before she forces the gun down. “Thank you. We need to get out of here. Will you come with me and hear me out if I promise to let you go after?”
Natasha’s body language spoke nothing but sincerity. Any other Widow wouldn’t have believed her but this was Yelena’s big sister. Yelena wanted so desperately to trust her. She gives a curt nod and some tension bleeds from Natasha’s shoulders. Natasha steps aside and Yelena slowly moves forward, her boots squishing under the carnage she caused.
Natasha doesn’t try to touch her but a hand does grab her shoulder and Yelena jumps, spinning and peering up at Khonshu.
“You have to leave. Now.” He tells her firmly and Yelena sucks in a breath. His grip on her tightens and Yelena can feel his panic as he tries to force his way into her body.
Yelena fights back. He had promised not to do so without her permission.
“White Knight?” Natasha pipes up and Yelena jerks to face toward her before she backs away. “Wait, I promise this isn’t a trap--”
Yelena does something that completely compromises her identity but she can’t speak. She wants Natasha to know that this is not what she wants.
Yelena whistles. Low-high-low.
Come find me.
Natasha is frozen in place and Yelena takes that opportunity to escape.
Yelena’s ears barely pick up on the reply. High-low-low-high.
I’m here.
Yelena reaches her safehouse and yanks her mask off, slamming it into the sink in the motel as she tugs on her hair in frustration.
She was so close! Right there! Natasha was right there and wanted to talk!
“I know you are upset,” Khonshu appears, bent to fit in the bathroom. Yelena turns and shoves at him, tears pooling in her eyes when her hands fall through him. “You need to calm yourself.”
Yelena spins to face the mirror, inhaling sharply as she quickly gathers her rogue emotions and shoves them into a box at the back of her mind.
“You--” Yelena croaks out, wincing at the feeling of sharp razorblades dragging along her throat as she tests her freshly healed injury. “My head--” She reaches up to tug at her hair.
“I apologize for attempting to procure control of your mind,” Khonshu says. “But it was necessary to leave there quickly.”
“Why?” Yelena croaks, letting the suit disappear and starting to unzip her uniform.
“Where was another avatar in the area. You were not safe,” He says simply and Yelena can pick up the hint of remorse in his tone. She strips her uniform off, dumping the bloodied remains in the sink as she steps into the shower.
“You were scared,” Yelena comments, focusing on the hot water running over her skin tinged pink from blood. Never had she felt the fear creeping through the bond she held with Khonshu.
Khonshu doesn’t reply. When Yelena finishes her shower, he’s gone from the room. She changes into a new set of clothes, pausing at the new pink scar running across her throat. She tilts her head up and inspects the scar.
It should have killed her. But it didn’t.
Yelena looks down at some scars she had before she got the suit.
Natasha said she took down the Red Room.
Yelena knew that wasn’t true. What made Natasha think so?
Yelena got out. If Natasha thought that the Red Room was dismantled then why didn’t she try to reach out?
Yelena’s eyes peer over to her stack of photographs she had clipped out of magazines and newspapers that showed her big sister’s face. She flops back on the motel bed, peering up at the peeling ceiling.
She turns to curl up on the bed and tries not to think of how she was probably just tossed away again.
Her life is lonely. The only person she can rely on is a god that saved her life and protects her in exchange for her killing for him.
Still, he’s the closest thing that she could call family.
That doesn’t mean a piece of her heart is empty and aching for her big sister.