Chapter 40
Yelena read in a book once that to die would be an awfully big adventure. Obviously, the person who wrote it hadn’t died but the point still stuck all the same.
Yelena woke up as she always did after dying, laying on the cold floor. She had grown accustomed to the tiny six-year-old version of herself when she was dead. She came to expect small hands and unsteady legs to carry her.
However, she noted immediately that she was a bit bigger and as she wiggles her fingers, she realizes that she was still in her regular body.
She held her hands up to the dull flickering light and noted the lack of a few scars she had grown accustomed to. She would place her age at roughly around fifteen and she doesn’t understand why.
She felt cold. Even colder than she usually felt while dead. There was a foreboding sense of finality that she didn’t like. It’s foolish to miss the scars on your skin but Yelena felt bare and naked without them. Her body didn’t look how she felt it should, like it wasn’t her body, and it made her want to crawl out of her skin.
She was wearing a Red Room uniform, the familiar sight of a red hourglass branded on her belt made her feel shackled all over again.
She no longer took the title of Black Widow. She was the White Knight, she protected the travelers of the night and brought vengeance. She wore white, she saved women and children, and she killed those that she couldn’t before.
At that moment, she felt like she was a child again. She barely had any scars, feeling suffocatingly stuffed into a suit that fit her like a second skin.
With her arms wrapped around herself, Yelena shuffled forward and navigated the empty halls. She was looking forward to whatever memory of her and her sister awaited her but as she pushed open the heavy door and fell through, she hit something hard, the smell of something damp and rotting filling her senses. It was far too dark, small flickers of lit lanterns the only source of light.
Yelena took in the scene in front of her, confused on why she was in that particular memory. She was back at the day of her first death, watching the not-yet-dead archeologists work. She remembered how she spent hours laying in the dark and watching them, waiting for the perfect opportunity to snatch the artifact from them and leave not witnesses. She did the same thing now, observing them closely as she moved further into the temple and observed person to person.
The peculiar thing about the mind is its ability to store information in its subconscious and be unable to recall it later on despite the fact the information is tucked away. Yelena doesn’t remember the exact conversations had until she was standing in front of a pair of men, listening to their chatter as they worked.
The first man talked of a vacation, one that he had worked long and hard to save up for. He was eager to surprise someone with it. He was grinning, sweaty and tired but still looking forward to the future.
“Bet you’ll be glad to get out of here, huh?” The man next to him inquired with a laugh.
“You bet. It’s getting cold,” the first man rubbed his hands together to warm up his fingers as if to prove a point. “I’m eager not only to return home to my warm bed but to my daughter. I just know she’ll love what I have planned.”
“How is she?” The second one inquired. “She still in college?”
“Top of her classes. She’s a smart cookie,” the first man beamed. “I’m so proud of her.”
Something sour curdles in Yelena’s gut for some reason. She swallowed hard, vaguely remembering being bored at the conversation as she waited to complete her mission.
“Found it!” A voice called out. The artifact was revealed and the second man slapped the first man’s shoulder.
“Look’s like you’ll be able to surprise Layla with an early return,” the man stated.
Yelena felt like the breath was sucked out of her chest at the name. She ignored it, moving back to her original place so that the memory could play out as usual.
She usually didn’t feel any different after going through the memory so many times but this time she just felt tired. Her body ached in an unfamiliar way and her chest was tight. Blood seeped through her suit in a familiar way and she started her stumble toward the altar. She paused just over the body of the first man and stared down at him. He was slumped over in a sitting position, his head bowed down as blood dripped off his nose and chin. Yelena could make out the tag of his jacket poking out. There was a last name branded on the jacket tag in black sharpie.
El-Faouly.
She felt sick. She squeezed her eyes shut and continued forward, hoping that if she just completed the stupid memory that she could move on to something nicer.
Her conversation with Khonshu just made her think of how much she missed him and how much of an asshole he was before he mellowed out over the years.
But the next memory that she went to was of her and Natasha, only it wasn’t them as children. Yelena was kneeling on the roof of a building, staring at Natasha’s face as her sister spoke to her as Dina.
Yelena wasn’t sure what was special about that memory or why she was taken there next. Watching Natasha’s face as she pulled the mask from her head and not seeing any sign of recognition hurt her. Why was she getting bad memories? She didn’t want to remember this.
“I think you knew my sister,” the words left Natasha’s lips and Yelena winced as she remembered the conversation.
Why was she seeing this memory after the last one? Her first death was still fresh in her mind. Did she die and was being punished?
Yelena remembered trying to comfort Natasha. She tried to give her all the things that she had wanted to say but never got the chance. She finally told her sister that it was real to her, that she was her sister even though they weren’t blood-related, that she was the best thing to ever happen to her, and that she loved her. Only she had to use third person because Natasha thought she was Dina, a girl who befriended Yelena before she died.
Natasha thought she was a child and had tried to save her, and Yelena didn’t let her.
The only thing that Yelena hated about her body was that she was a child. A child that had gotten a reputation with the other Gods apparently. The child that never ages, or so they say. While the body was good for undercover work, it was too hard to try and keep a somewhat legal life. Nobody would rent houses to her, she had to lie about fake parents to get motel rooms, and she had to lie about being homeschooled when caught out during school hours. Living with Layla made things easier, taking on the identity of Dina had given her some support and all Yelena had to mention was an “Aunt Layla” before people were swayed.
But as much as she hated her body, she knew that it was the price she paid for immortality. Khonshu had literally brought her back to life and she doesn’t really understand the magic behind it but she figured that she would probably never age. In exchange for being with Khonshu, Yelena would give that up. She may not like it but she would deal with being a child forever as long as Khonshu didn’t leave her alone.
“Will you come with me, Dina?” Natasha questioned, her face tired and resigned after hearing about Yelena’s first death. Natasha had offered her a small smile and outstretched her hand but Yelena had turned her down.
As she climbed down from the roof, dropping from the fire escape ladder, she landed on a completely new memory.
She recognized it immediately. It was a hit that had gone messy because there was more backup than Yelena had anticipated.
She was seventeen at the time and angry at the world. The particular hit was for the Red Room, to send them a message. Khonshu had helped her set it up. He wanted to help her get vengeance.
“Get the girl!”
The sound of gunfire, men yelling into walkies as she crawled around cover, was all too familiar. She had blood in her eye from a near miss with a gun, a gash on her forehead nearly blinding her with the blood. Khonshu had to lead her. But rather than lead her out, he led her in. He wanted to finish the job just as much as she did.
“Not yet,” Khonshu would tug on her vest, one quick, sharp yank to keep her behind cover if she tried to leave too early and was at risk of being caught. He was her eyes, peering around corners and keeping track of where the men were.
When Yelena finished, breathing hard as she collapsed to her knees to catch her breath, she grinned up at him. “Not too shabby, huh?” She commented between harsh breaths. “We make a good team.”
She was pretty sure that if Khonshu had eyes then he would be rolling them. “Get yourself off the floor, we must make ourselves scarce.”
“Boo,” Yelena stuck her tongue out at him. “I get a minute to catch my breath, I earned it.”
“Catch your breath faster then,” Khonshu huffed but then disappeared into the shadows to give her a few minutes to collect herself.
When Yelena finally stood, she was in a different memory.
“Stupid, no good, son of a bitch--” Yelena was kicking a nearby brick wall in frustration as she cussed in Russian under her breath.
“Your anger will get you nowhere,” Khonshu commented from nearby.
“This is your fault!” Yelena spun around and shoved a finger at him. “I’m stuck like this. They won’t give me a fucking motel room without a parent present! The seediest fucking motel where people go to do drugs and fuck hookers is suddenly concerned about giving a room to a kid!”
“You are making a scene,” Khonshu said, waiting for her to finish her tantrum.
“Fuck off!” Yelena childishly blew a raspberry at him.
“You are angry,” Khonshu approached her and Yelena lost her defiant attitude quickly, shrinking in on herself as he loomed over her. “Anger is good fuel for vengeance but you are using it incorrectly. If you do not wish for others to see you as a child then you must not act like one. Get yourself together.”
Yelena stared down at her shoes, giving one last half-hearted kick to the ground. “What am I supposed to do then?” She was new to being freed from the Red Room, not even sixteen, and homeless on the streets in Belarus. “They won’t take my fucking money.”
“You must be resourceful. You cannot claim to have no parentage,” Khonshu pulled away slightly and Yelena felt like she could breathe easier. “Use what you have. I know you can lie, my avatar. Do it.”
Yelena huffed, shoving her hands into her pockets. “I just wanted to try and do things my way. I don’t want to do so many bad things still. I want to do things the legal way. The good way.”
“Who are you to define what is good and what is bad?” Khonshu inquired and Yelena stared at the broken pavement in the alley she was in.
“Yeah,” Yelena sighed, running a hand over her face as she took a deep breath. “I guess.” She turned on her foot and exited the alley, stepping into yet another memory.
“Why don’t the other Gods like you?” Yelena was laying in a motel bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling in the middle of the night.
“That is not something for you to concern yourself with,” Khonshu was hunched over slightly to fit into the small room.
“But if you don’t like them then why do you insist on me paying my respect to them?” Yelena glanced over at him. “You make me leave offerings and pray at their temples if we are ever nearby. If they don’t like you then why do you make me do it?”
Khonshu was quiet and Yelena huffed but let the subject drop, staring up at the ceiling again.
“They do not agree with the way that I do things,” Khonshu finally replied. “Although we do not get along, we didn’t always hold such views.”
“What happened then?” Yelena propped herself up on an arm to turn her attention toward him. “Did you get into a fight?”
“That is in the past,” Khonshu dismissed her easily. “You must rest. We have an early morning.”
“You still didn’t answer my question,” Yelena pointed out, sighing as she rolled onto her back once again. “Why do you make me do it?”
“You must learn to respect the other Gods,” Khonshu told her and Yelena rolled her eyes because she had heard the ‘respect other deities’ lecture before. “But--” He continued and Yelena tensed slightly in anticipation of the new information. “Some Gods are forgotten, with no one to pray to them. They are excitable over anyone who sacrifices or makes offerings in their name. It will earn you goodwill with them. They may just end up in your debt one day. And the one thing about Gods--”
“They don’t like debts,” Yelena nodded her head, tucking her hand under her pillow as she rolled onto her side, facing Khonshu. “Why don’t all Gods have avatars?”
“Rest before I make you rest,” Khonshu huffed and Yelena smiled as she snuggled deeper under the covers.
“Yeah, okay. I hear you loud and clear,” she closed her eyes. “Thanks.”
When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere new. It wasn’t a memory, she was on the Duat. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling on unsteady legs as the boat rocked while it traveled.
“Little one!”
Yelena jerked and spun around, relief filling her at the sight of Tawaret. “You’re here…” she breathed out.
“Yup!” Tawaret grinned at her before it fell slightly. “I’m here on a favor to Layla.”
Right. Yelena had forgotten that she had died. “Am I dead for good this time?” Yelena questioned, glancing over the side of the Duat to the fields of sand. “Have I died a final death?”
Tawaret let out a hum, approaching where Yelena stood. “I don’t know.” The Goddess shrugged before looking down at her. “Would it bother you if you did?”
Yelena almost said no, the words on the tip of her tongue when she paused. Dying scared her at first. Her very first death had terrified her. But with her passive views on death, having died more times than years she had lived, death lost meaning. Death had become a comfort, her ability to live in memories of her and her sister as children back when everything was okay.
But then she met Layla. She barreled into the woman’s life and uprooted everything but Layla never once got upset with her. Layla had done nothing but look after her. Most people wouldn’t stay but Layla did. She fed and clothed her, she gave her a safe identity to presume, and she protected her body when Yelena couldn’t.
Layla was never scared of her. She didn’t hesitate to drape an arm around her shoulders or shove a knife in her hand and order her to chop vegetables for dinner. Yelena got a type of peace that she never had since before the Red Room.
And with Layla came her reunion with Natasha under the identity of Dina.
Had she been asked a few months ago if dying a final death would bother her, Yelena would have said no. She knew what to expect on the other side.
But with her life as it was at the moment, her answer changed. Maybe she had some things to make up for an untied ends to finish but she wanted to go back.
“Yes.” She finally answered Tawaret’s question, feeling the Goddess stare at her. “It would.”
Tawaret’s hand landed on her shoulder and Yelena realized that she was in her actual body and not her six-year-old self.
“If I do end up dying a final death, could you pass a message onto Layla for me?” Yelena asked quietly. Tawaret let out a soft hum. “Could you tell her that I’m sorry?”
“Sorry?” Tawaret echoed in confusion.
“Sorry.” Yelena glanced back over at the sandy dunes as she nodded. “For leaving. For our unfinished vows. For bleeding on her wooden floor.” A small smile tugged at her lips as she took a deep breath. “And for being kind to me.”
Tawaret nodded her head and Yelena knew that she would honor her word.
“Would you… would you also keep an eye on my sister?” Yelena hesitantly inquired. “Natasha Romanoff. I know that we probably won’t see each other when we die because she doesn’t believe in Egyptian Gods but I’d like her to live a long and happy life.”
“Consider it done,” Tawaret looked down at her, glancing away nervously as if she wanted to ask something but was unsure of how. “Are you scared?”
“Of the end?” Yelena asked, soaking in the sight of the purple sky, orange sunlight peeking through clouds. “Maybe. I don’t know. I think I should be. Isn’t that what everyone is afraid of? The end?”
“But you’re not everyone,” Tawaret hummed and Yelena shrugged slightly.
“I guess not…” Yelena leaned back into the hand bracing her shoulder. “I’m not ready for it to be the end yet.”
“Nobody ever is,” Tawaret smiled down at her. “You were a good person.”
“Was I?”
“You helped more than you realize.”
“Good enough for the Scales of Justice?”
“I think so.”
“Good.”
The duo fell into silence and Yelena waited quietly for the eventual end. She’d either wake up or move on.
She really wanted to wake up.