Chapter 13
The next time Yelena dies, it’s different. There had been no severe injury. She didn’t bleed out. She wasn’t shot in the head or choked to death.
One moment she’s falling asleep in her motel room she had set up in a week after her confrontation with Natasha, and the next thing she knows, she’s screaming, sitting up in bed as blood dripping from her nose as her vision blurs. Her head is pounding so hard that she feels like her brain is going to break her skull.
“Khonshu--” She chokes out as she falls forward out of bed onto her hands and knees. It takes a few moments before a hand tugs her up, tilting her head up.
“Breathe, my child,” Khonshu instructs firmly. “You will be fine.”
Yelena shakes her head. Something was wrong. Her head felt wrong. “What did you do to my head--?” She chokes out. She hadn’t felt him try to control her.
Khonshu is staring at her sharply before he shakes his head. “Relax, my child. You’re dying.”
Yelena stiffened, sucking a breath in and coughing at the blood clot that she swallows. “What?”
“Give in. I will look after your body,” Khonshu instructs, gently lowering her down to lay on her side on the floor.
Never before had Yelena heard him tell her to just die. “What about the suit?” She chokes out.
Khonshu shakes his head. “This is not a matter the suit will fix. Rest your eyes.”
It’s getting harder to breathe. Yelena doesn’t want to suffer and push through this if she’s just going to die anyway.
Yelena draws in a few last ragged breaths before she closed her eyes. She trusted Khonshu.
She wakes up in that same grey room but it’s different. She’s not wearing that pink outfit she wore on that last day in Ohio but her limbs are still short and uncoordinated.
She’s wearing the Red Room issued pajamas that every girl wore. A light charcoal grey with no markings or patterns on it.
The door is just as hard to open but the hallway feels cold. Yelena wraps her arms around herself, shivering as she moves toward the usual door she took.
Only, when she tries the handle, it doesn’t open. It’s locked.
Yelena tries it again. And again. The door isn’t opening and she doesn't have anything to break the lock.
Yelena turns around and slowly steps away from the locked door. She doesn’t know how Khonshu is supposed to reach her if she can’t step through the doorway into somewhere to give him an easy way to give her an exit.
Yelena’s eyes fall onto the other door at the far end of the hallway. The last time she had gone through it, she felt scared. Khonshu said that she was fighting him for control.
But she has no other choice. She makes her way down the hallway and the door swings open easily. She swallows hard before stepping into the dark room and letting the door swing shut behind her.
She shuffles toward the door that would take her into a bad memory. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad this time?
“My precious little weapon.”
Yelena stiffens at the voice crooned over her shoulder. She tries to brush it off, picking up pace as she darts toward the door.
“The perfect specimen. So… ruthless… bloodthirsty.”
Something touches her bare ankle and Yelena yelps, stumbling in an attempt to shake it off of her. Her uncoordinated body loses balance and she tumbles to the ground, unable to find anything around her in the shadows that had grabbed her.
“You are the best child assassin there is. I know you will make me proud, my little White Widow.”
Yelena’s chest heaves as she searches for the source of the voice that echoes around her. General Dreykov isn’t really here, he can’t be.
She tries to climb to her feet, stumbling toward the door as quickly as she can. She reaches for the doorknob as her feet touch the small sliver of light the cracked door leaves.
Something grabs her ankle again, this time yanking her feet out from under her. Yelena screams, twisting to try and fight it off. “No!” Where was Khonshu? What was taking him so long? Can’t he see that she needs help? It was already night when she died, why was it taking so long?
Yelena reaches out to grab what appears to be a black vine wrapped around her ankle tethering her there. She grabs it with her hands, digging her fingernails into it as she tries to tear it. She bends down, her teeth sinking into it as she attempts to break it. It breaks and she quickly skitters to her feet and bursts through the door, tumbling into a locker room.
Yelena wraps her arms around herself at the memory, trying to calm her ragged breathing as she moves forward on unsteady legs.
She can hear one of the showers running and the sound of soft sobbing, another voice shushing them gently. Yelena approached the single shower stall with the water running, the shower curtains having been confiscated after too many Widows were comforting each other despite it being forbidden.
There in the shower is a young Yelena and an older Widow. The older Widow is gently running a washcloth over the blood staining young Yelena’s legs as she sobs her eyes out.
“Shh,” The Widow tells young Yelena quietly and young Yelena clamps a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. “The first time is the hardest.” She was crouching in front of young Yelena, peering up at her. “They will do it again. It will hurt again. You must let them. Learn.”
“No--” Young Yelena whimpers out. “I can’t--”
“You must,” The Widow tells her firmly, dropping the washcloth in preference of grasping young Yelena’s face. “Do not let them break you. The broken do not survive here.” Her thumbs gently wipe away the water droplets on young Yelena’s cheeks, not caring that some were tears. The Widow had red hair, albeit much darker than Natasha’s once was, but at that moment she very much reminded Yelena of the person who had once cared about her.
Young Yelena takes a few deep breaths before she nods, pulling herself together. The Widow gives her a small nod. “Good.” She praised, pulling her hands away from young Yelena’s face.
The locker room door opened and Yelena jumps, spinning around as she expects a guard to come in here just like she remembered.
“Tawaret!” She gasps out at the sight of the goddess, darting forward toward the woman she had not seen since she opened the door on the far end of the hallway three years ago.
“Little one,” Tawaret greets her with a smile that quickly becomes a frown. “What happened? Why choose this path again?”
Yelena tries to explain but she’s so shaken up from her time spent here that it comes out a jumbled mess as her six-year-old brain tries to piece together an explanation. Just as Yelena manages to tell Tawaret about her ankle, the goddess sharply jerks her head to look down at Yelena’s legs.
The tall and imposing goddess kneels down, her large hand gently grasping Yelena’s tiny leg as she softly pushes up the cuff of the grey pajama bottoms. Yelena is staring down at a red mark around her ankle and Tawaret is staring at it with wide eyes.
“You should not have been able to get hurt,” Tawaret says quietly, her thumb brushing over the mark. “Come. Let us get out of here.”
Only when Tawaret attempts to redirect them into a good memory, it doesn’t work. Tawaret frowns, trying repeatedly to open a door before she huffs, scratches her head, and peers down at Yelena.
“Well, that only leaves one option, I suppose,” She said softly and this time when she waves her hand, a new door appears. It opens to reveal what appears to be a wooden deck and a vast starry sky. “Come.”
Yelena doesn’t know where Tawaret is taking her but she steps out through the door. She’s on some large boat now, sailing through what appears to be sand.
“Welcome to the Duat,” Tawaret says. “Don’t get too close to the sides, you’ll fall overboard.”
“Duat.” Yelena repeats quietly. “This is where my heart is weighed, yes?”
Tawaret nods, gesturing to where the set of golden scales was set up. “Right here.” She says, picking up a feather and placing it onto one scale. “Would you like to see?”
Curiosity burns at Yelena. “Will it kill me for good if I do?” She asked quietly.
“No. You’re Khonshu’s avatar,” Tawaret sounds so sure of it that Yelena finds herself nodding before she can help herself. Tawaret grins and Yelena lets out a gasp as the goddess’s hand sinks into her chest. There’s a tugging sensation before a white heart is in Tawaret’s grip. Yelena runs her hand over her unmarred chest. She’s unable to feel a beating under her fingers but she never considered checking for one in the first place.
Tawaret gently sets Yelena’s heart onto the empty scale and Yelena watches the scales rock from side to side, bobbing up and down like a ship sailing the waters.
Up and down, up and down, her side of the scale rocks but it doesn’t seem to slow.
“How long does this take?” Yelena can’t help but blurt, her eyes shifting to gaze up at Tawaret.
“It should have already settled,” Tawaret sounded puzzled.
“Is… is there something wrong with me?” Yelena questioned, looking back at the gently rocking scale.
“Your heart is not ready to be weighed yet,” Tawaret finally says, picking it up from the scales. She tucks it back into Yelena’s chest with the same grace that she had taken it. “It has been a while since I have seen you. At least for you it has. Time is rather meaningless to me. You are… how old now?”
“Twenty,” Yelena says. “Almost four years.” She rubs her hand over her chest. “Why am I six each time I die?”
“I don’t know. Why do you pick to be six?” Tawaret turns the question back on her and Yelena startles.
“I’m not picking,” She denies. “Why would I want to be six?”
“Well, I suppose it might have been when you felt safe. Usually, those who die do not return to a younger age, but I have seen, on occasion, some who are a little younger. Usually eighteen, I think. When they felt safe and free.” Tawaret rubs her chin in thought. “Never seen a little one like you before, though.”
“So I’m wrong?” Yelena questioned and Tawaret quickly shakes her head.
“You’re you. Yelena Belova. Avatar of Khonsu. Immortal. Badass,” Tawaret says before she perks up. “I got myself an avatar of my own recently! You should meet her, I think you’d get along well.”
“Maybe,” Yelena knows that Khonshu hates when she interacts with other avatars or Gods. “Where can I find her in an emergency?”
Tawaret beams at her and tells Yelena where to locate her avatar in case of an emergency. Tawaret then rambles on and on about how much of a strong and badass woman her avatar was and gushed over how it was her first and Tawaret made a lovely suit just for her to protect her just as Khonshu did with Yelena.
Before Yelena gets to learn the avatar’s name, a door behind them opens and Yelena jumps, spinning around to look at it.
“Ooh! Seems like Khonshu is calling you back,” Tawaret says, ushering Yelena toward the door. “Try to be more careful in the future! Oh, and if you need me while you’re dead again, just call and I’ll be there!”
Yelena doesn’t even manage to say goodbye before Tawaret is pushing her through the door. Yelena falls through and ends up jerking awake.
She doesn’t recognize where she is. This isn’t the motel room she fell asleep in last night. She’s standing in front of a mirror in what looks like a gas station bathroom, her bag secure over her shoulder. She’s in a new change of clothes, the blood having been cleared away from her face. Her mouth tastes like bitter coffee and her whole body is aching and tired.
“Khonshu?” Yelena whispers in confusion. “Where am I?”
“Safe.” Khonshu replies and Yelena’s eyes peer into the mirror behind her to see Khonshu hovering over her shoulder. “The avatar had followed you.”
“Who’s avatar? Why did I die? I wasn’t hurt!” Yelena protests in confusion, peering up at the god. Khonshu is uncharacteristically quiet. He usually indulged in Yelena's questions, even if they seemed stupid or silly to him.
“His name is Apep.” Khonshu finally spoke, his voice low. “He has recently taken on his first avatar to bring destruction and chaos. He has two gods he would like to vanquish. Ra, god of the sun…” He peers down at Yelena. “And me. God of the moon."
“And… that’s why I had to leave Natasha so quickly the other day?” Yelena pieces together, trying to think of if she saw someone who could have been the avatar before looking up at him. “How did I die?”
“They say you are most vulnerable when you dream. An easy pathway into the mind,” Khonshu tells her. “He was in your head. You are my avatar. A thing in the way of his mission.”
“He tried to kill me through my dreams?” Yelena repeats to make sure that she understood.
“No.” Khonshu shakes his head as he straightens up. “He succeeded.”
With that, Khonshu vanishes and leaves Yelena alone in the dingy bathroom. Yelena swallows hard, tugging her shirt down before she unlocks the door and steps out into the cool night, immediately trying to pinpoint her location to find a safe place to go.
She must have been dead for a while because no longer was she in Russia.
She was in New York.