Chapter 32
Yelena had her first violent nightmare since staying with Layla. She had woken up, tangled in her blankets as she violently twisted until she rolled off the couch. She didn’t remember where she had been sleeping, her back hitting the wall as she tried to find a weapon to protect herself.
She hadn’t even realized where she was until she realized that she was pinned to the ground, peering up at Layla’s face as she squirmed under her. The hold was awkward and slightly painful, Layla obviously wasn’t sure how to pin Yelena down safely. Yelena was glad that Layla wasn’t going easy and was pinning her down, even if it hurt. Yelena was dangerous when she was out of control.
“Are you back with me?” Layla questioned. Yelena blinked up at her a few times before she nodded and Layla eased off of her. Yelena sat up, rotating her sore shoulder as she tried to ease the ache of Layla pinning her down. “Did I hurt you?” She sounded worried.
“I’m fine,” Yelena shook her head. She made to climb to her feet but realized just how shaky her legs were and let herself fall back onto her butt and instead pulled her knees to her chest. Layla sat next to her, not hesitating as she draped an arm over Yelena’s shoulders to tug her against her side.
Yelena missed Khonshu, the steady tapping of his staff against the ground, the way she knew he was always there, lurking in the shadows and simply waiting to be called upon.
But Layla was there. She was warm and soft and gentle in all the ways that Khonshu wasn’t. Yelena can’t help but lean into her, drinking up every drop of kind touch that was given to her.
Layla doesn’t ask about her dream, not that Yelena could even remember. Yelena instead focused on running her thumb along the black ink on her arm and wishing that she could have more than she did.
“I think I need to go on a walk,” Yelena finally whispered. Too much of the anxious energy from the dream was still buzzing around inside of her and she had to get it out.
“Want company?” Layla offered and Yelena almost accepts but takes one look at the face of the woman that she realized she had woken up and forced to pin her down, and she shakes her head. “Alright. Stay safe then.”
Yelena doesn’t bother changing out of the borrowed pajamas, tugging her boots on, and leaves quickly.
She climbs to the roof of the nearest building, summons her suit, and leaps off the edge. The adrenaline that courses through her veins is enough to keep her focused and she goes roof hopping, leaping over ledges, and submerging herself in the scrapes of concrete and bad tumbles.
Yelena kept going until she couldn’t, folding in on herself on a rooftop as she reached up to grip the bottom of her mask, preparing to pull it off to catch her breath when she heard a noise and paused, spinning around.
The breath that she had a hard time catching was suddenly lodged in her throat as she stared up at her big sister. “White Knight,” Natasha spoke, her voice gentle. “Dina.” She corrected.
‘That’s not my name,’ Yelena wanted to say. She wanted to pull her mask off, to grab her sister by the shoulders and beg for her to see who she truly is. ‘I’m here, Nattie. I’m here.’ But she can’t, not with Nour and Apep still trying to hurt her.
“Don’t run--” Natasha suddenly said when Yelena’s hands lowered from her mask. “Can we talk? Please?”
Yelena can’t risk it. She can’t get involved, she can’t let Natasha know who she is, not yet. But some selfish part of her makes her nod her head and she ignores how her stomach twisted at the look of relief flashing across Natasha’s face.
“Do you remember who I am?” Natasha questioned. She waits for a reply, wanting to actually conversate instead of just talking at her. Yelena nodded her head again. “Good. I know who you are too. Dina, that’s the name you’re going by now, right? You’re a Black Widow from the Red Room.”
Natasha is right and wrong at the same time. Dina is the name she’s going by but it’s not her name. She’s a Black Widow from the Red Room but she’s also the only White Widow.
“You can take off the mask if you want. Or speak. It’s safe here, nobody but us is around,” Natasha’s voice was gentle still and she held a hand out as she slowly lowered herself to take a seat on the ground. “Will you come join me? Just to talk?”
Yelena finds herself crossing the rooftop before she could think twice, stopping a few feet away from Natasha and sliding down to sit.
“Can I ask you how old you are?” Natasha asked. Yelena didn’t know the right answer. Biologically? Chronologically? “Thirteen?” She guessed.
That was the age Dina was so Yelena simply nodded her head. Natasha looked saddened slightly at her answer.
“Can I ask you about the woman you’re staying with, Layla El-Faouly?” Natasha inquired and Yelena immediately tensed up. “Does she know that you’re a Widow?”
Layla pretty much knew everything about Yelena. The important bits anyway. Yelena nodded her head once again.
“Do you know that you don’t have to keep being White Knight? Nobody can make you, the Red Room is gone,” Natasha said. Yelena blinks at her in confusion because her words made no sense. Nobody was forcing her to do anything. The Red Room wasn’t gone. She wanted to be White Knight. She had to be. “Layla is not your Madame.”
Yelena jerked away from Natasha at the words. “She--” Yelena abruptly cut herself off. Layla was nothing like the Red Room. Layla was good and kind and soft.
“Dina,” Natasha lowered her voice. “If you want to get out then you can come with me. You won’t have to be White Knight anymore. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Natasha didn’t understand. Yelena wanted to tell her, to explain, but she couldn’t.
“I… I used to have a sister,” Natasha started and Yelena’s attention snapped back to her. “She was a few years older than you and the Red Room killed her. They took her from me, they showed me footage of her death. It was a grainy video and I can’t remember it that well but it was her, I knew it was.”
Yelena hadn’t known that Natasha had seen her death. Her stomach twists with guilt because her sister is mourning someone who isn’t dead.
“I couldn’t save her but I got out and I burned the Red Room down for her,” Natasha continued. Yelena swallows hard because she hadn’t. Natasha hadn’t burned the Red Room down because only last month was Yelena killing another agent from the Red Room. “You don’t have to kill anymore. You can finally stop. You’re free. And if Layla is keeping you from that then I will help you get away from her.”
Yelena reached up and grabbed the bottom of her mask, hesitating before she pulled it off of her head. If Natasha truly didn’t know who she was, or remember what she looked like, then maybe things just weren’t meant to be. Yelena could tell Layla to forget her vow about finding Natasha because Yelena had found her first.
“Hi,” Natasha breathed out softly, her eyes gentle and soft but Yelena searches for a hint of recognition in her gaze and finds nothing. Natasha doesn’t recognize her, Yelena is a stranger. “There you are.”
Yelena feels like she’s being treated like a fragile child, Natasha doing her best to lure her in to trap her and cart her off to go into foster care or some other bullshit place for traumatized children. She’s not actually thirteen, or fifteen, she’s twenty.
“You have fresh scars,” Natasha gestures to what she can see peeking out from Yelena’s uniform. “Did Layla give those to you?”
“She’s not my Madame,” the words leave Yelena’s lips faster than she can catch them but she couldn’t have Natasha continue to talk about Layla that way. The sudden Russian took Natasha off guard but she quickly adapted.
“Of course not,” she agreed. She seemed to sense that the topic of Layla was off the table. “I think you knew my sister.” Natasha blurted, the confession hanging between them awkwardly. Natasha hadn’t meant to say that, Yelena could tell. “Her… her name was Yelena. You whistled at me when we met. Do you remember that?”
Yelena pressed her lips together, remembering the mistake she had made. She had wanted so desperately to talk then but she couldn’t with her slit throat. Now she could talk but wouldn’t. Natasha whistled and the reply came from Yelena’s lips like second nature.
“That.” Natasha’s voice sounded shaky. “That’s what I’m talking about. Did you know her? Did she teach it to you?”
Yelena doesn’t want Natasha to cling to her yet, she still has to get Apep out of the way, but some part of her is desperate to try and make up for all the ache she has caused. She slowly nodded her head and Natasha closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Do you know how she died?” Natasha whispered, her voice raw. “Do you know… do you know if she suffered?”
Yelena swallowed hard, wincing at the question. She did suffer. It hurt so much and she was so scared of dying all alone, her life coming to an end before she was old enough to legally drive. Yelena doesn’t want to lie and give Natasha some meaningless platitude of how she didn’t suffer, she went quickly, she was happy and sank into the bright light. Yelena’s gaze flickered to her lap, her head bowed, and that was all the answer that Natasha needed.
“Oh…” the soft remark left Natasha’s lips with a breath of air. Yelena sees the tears well up in Natasha’s eyes first before a few of her own burned and she reached a hand up to try and wipe them away. “I’m sorry. She… she didn’t deserve that.”
At that moment, Yelena feels like a stranger, someone ghosting around as a dead little girl. She doesn’t think that she and the girl Natasha is mourning are the same people. She’s different now, Khonshu has made her different, and Natasha won’t understand that. “You loved her,” the words escape her.
“More than anything,” Natasha smiled at her, taking a deep breath as she composed herself. “I… I apologize for getting emotional on you.”
“She loved you,” Yelena wants Natasha to know. She doesn’t know if she’ll get the chance to tell her. She keeps her voice high and soft, something akin to what she imagined thirteen-year-old her might have sounded like. “You were her big sister. Not by blood but family all the same. She wanted to see you again. I…” she paused as she thought about just how far to twist the story. “I kept hearing about you. You were the best thing to ever happen to her.”
Natasha’s breath hitched and Yelena looked down at her lap. “Thank you for telling me,” Natasha whispered before she cleared her throat. “Will you come with me, Dina?”
Yelena wants nothing more than to say yes, to come clean and go home. But she can’t. “I’m sorry.”
Natasha doesn’t look surprised but Yelena does detect disappointment at her answer. “I see.”
Yelena suddenly realized how long she had been gone and climbed to her feet, tugging her mask back over her face. “I’m sorry,” she repeats and Natasha’s protests fall on deaf ears as she quickly scales down the side of the building to return to Layla.
How funny is it that for someone who has had people leave her all of her life, when she finally has the one person she’s longed for, she’s the one doing all of the leaving?