Chapter 43
Yelena hadn’t realized how much Tawaret’s presence helped her until she was gone. She felt like there was nothing to do but lay in a ball on the ground and hope that she still had a body to go back to.
There would be a point where Khonshu simply couldn’t heal her. Maybe she could survive a few missing fingers or teeth, and she could probably regrow an eye or tongue, but there were simply a few things she wouldn’t be able to survive, namely a beheading or severe damage to her head.
That wasn’t to say that she hadn’t had damage to her head already. She had been shot through the skull executioner style before and Khonshu had been able to close the hole and repair the damage to her brain. Maybe Yelena’s coordination was off for a little while and maybe her memories of certain periods were fuzzy, but she had always come back.
She thought of Layla and Natasha. They had arrived right before she died. She wondered how Natasha was handling the death of the girl she only ever wanted to help. She wondered if Natasha blamed herself.
Then she couldn’t help but think of how Khonshu was in her body. Had Natasha seen her rise? Did she try to help the girl she thought was Dina? Had Khonshu threatened her?
It then dawned on Yelena that Khonshu had never really liked Natasha and a cold feeling spread through her body at the thought that he may have just killed her.
Natasha was a sensitive subject and always had been. Khonshu never really understood why Yelena collected the clippings of Natasha like some weirdo and he would often scold her for getting distracted whenever she saw news articles featuring a glimpse of her sister.
Yelena couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t allow herself to have her sister so she had to settle on pictures and video recordings, watching the news just to see if there was a mention of the Avengers. Each time that Yelena found some piece of merchandise featuring “The Black Widow”, she would stop and stare. They would plaster her face on things that she wouldn’t like. That hadn’t stopped Yelena from lifting a bottle of Black Widow Berry shampoo from the store just so she had a picture of Natasha she could stare at during bad nights curled on the floor of the shower.
Khonshu knew how much Natasha meant to her. If he was his grumpy self and still held a grudge then Yelena had no doubt he might threaten or actually kill her.
If he does so, Yelena wasn’t sure what she would do. That was one thing she wouldn’t be able to forgive.
Yelena would follow Khonshu to the ends of the earth. She would do his bidding, she would give her body for him to use, and she would accept whatever job, but she would not be able to forgive him for killing her sister.
She then had to shake her head and try to crawl out of her mind. It would do no good to worry over possibilities.
Another surge of pain gripped her and Yelena whimpered, pressing her cheek against the floor.
She just had to focus on surviving.
Clint realized where he had to go next when he got messages from SHIELD that there were two inhumans or aliens that were fighting on a rooftop and it was getting out of control quickly.
Well, that made it easy to guess where he was supposed to go. If there was anything, his partner was definitely the type to get caught up in aliens.
And with White Knight, it was a great probability that the child soldier was part of it.
Clint sighed and started to make his way toward the reported building hoping that he could find some way to settle things before SHIELD arrived.
Natasha politely does not mention how Layla’s hands shook as they made their way toward the building where Tawaret supposedly said that Yelena and the other God were fighting.
“I will be there,” Natasha commented. Layla gave her a small glance of confusion. “I will provide support the best I can.”
Layla paused in her tracks. “You can’t join in a fight with three Gods.”
“What part of ‘I’m going to rescue my sister’ is hard for you to comprehend?” Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.
“But--” Layla opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unsure of what to say. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Oh, so you can kill yourself to get someone you care about back but I can’t?” Natasha watched as Layla stared at her with wide eyes. “I’m a Black Widow assassin. I’ve dealt with Gods before, even ones that were trying to kill each other.”
“I mean, yeah, but that was part of the Avengers,” Layla commented. She then stopped. “Would they consider this an Avenger-level threat?”
“I hope not.” The last thing Natasha needed was for her coworkers to show up. Things would get messy concerning White Knight and Natasha doubted that her word would be good enough to stop them from locking her sister up.
Yelena had killed SHIELD agents. Natasha wasn’t sure why, Yelena had just insisted that she doesn’t kill innocents. The reminder that her baby sister was still killing people made Natasha’s heart clench.
“Well, whatever happens, happens,” Layla said quietly before glancing at Natasha. “I don’t know how much use you’ll be though,” she admitted.
“Gods or not, they’re still in human bodies, right?” Natasha pointed out. “Maybe they have some fucked up healing factor--” Natasha was not going to think of the way she saw her baby sister get her throat slit and then sit up minutes later. “But I think I can hit them enough to give some openings. You just need to destroy the body they’re using, right?”
“I think so,” Layla turned to look on the other side of her, tilting her head up to peer at something that Natasha couldn’t see. “Yeah. If we destroy Nour’s body then that will allow the Council to deal with the God behind it.”
Natasha took stock of the weapons that she had brought with her. “Anywhere I should aim in particular? Head? Knees?”
“Hands,” Layla said without hesitation. It’s easiest to channel power that way. Get rid of the hands and get rid of their main source of power.
“Hands,” Natasha repeated. Hands were often harder to hit but she would do what she could.
“Oh fuck…” Layla suddenly breathed out, staring up at the sky, and Natasha craned her head up to see what Layla was looking at.
The moon was visible in the sky, which wasn’t uncommon during the afternoon but it was definitely brighter than it should have been. The sharp scent of ozone permeated the air and Natasha could see flashes of light and smoke coming from the top of the building.
“At least they’re not destroying the city,” Natasha couldn’t help but comment. “That’s oddly thoughtful of them.”
“They can’t fly in mortal form. One really just has to chuck the other off the building to end it,” Layla stated. “But they’re pretty evenly matched.”
“Hopefully you’ll be able to tip the odds,” Natasha commented as they entered the building and started to make their way up the stairs. They had about twenty floors to make their way up but the last thing they needed was for the elevator to break with them in it.
Natasha pulled out her grapple gun and glanced at Layla. “C’mere and hold onto me.”
Layla peered over at her and eyed the grapple gun before shuffling closer. She had summoned her Scarlet Scarab armor which pressed uncomfortably against Natasha as she wrapped an arm around her.
Natasha aimed and shot a grapple, grunting slightly at the extra weight but not unable to support it. She’d done something similar with Clint many times and he was much heavier than Layla was, even in her armor.
As they get closer to the top floor, the metallic smell of blood saturated the air along with the smell of burnt flesh. Natasha had to take a moment to swallow down the contents of her stomach as she gathered herself.
“Are you ready?” Natasha asked, glancing at Layla as she stared at the door to the roof.
“I… yeah…” Layla nodded firmly before she took a deep breath. “I, uh… I appreciate you coming with me.”
Natasha wasn’t quite sure what to say but offered Layla a nod in return.
Layla glanced to her side moments before her body language abruptly changed. When Layla looked back at her, her deep brown eyes were a glowing golden color.
“You’re her… Goddess?” Natasha questioned, watching as the Goddess piloted Layla’s body like a professional puppeteer.
“I am.” The voice that left Layla’s mouth was a little higher. “Would you do me a small favor?”
The sharp scent of blood got heavier and Natasha knew that they had to intervene soon. “What is it?”
“If I destroy the body, will you ensure she gets buried next to her father?” The Goddess inquired.
Natasha figured that she could do that. “Yeah. I should be able to do that.”
The Goddess smiled at her before she looked at the door in contempt. She then opened the door and Natasha took in the sight of the bloodbath.
There on the rooftop was a woman and child, pushing and pulling at each other. Each figure had severe damage to their bodies. Burns, cuts, gashes, deep wounds in their skin, missing fingernails and teeth. Natasha could see the wounds healing on each body slowly, carefully knitting together severe damage.
Layla’s Goddess, Tawaret, wasted no time in surging forward to join the battle. The God in the woman’s body, Apep, staggered backward in surprise.
“This is not your fight!” He growled as Tawaret positioned herself between them. “Move.”
The God in her sister’s body, Khonshu, held his abdomen where blood was soaking through rapidly. He was breathing harshly, unused to the physical limitations of a teenager’s body.
“You will stand down,” Tawaret ordered Apep, straightening up. “Or you will fall by my hand.”
Apep’s eyes narrowed. “Do your worst.”
Tawaret took over fighting for Khonshu, letting the body catch up with healing. Natasha had to position her aim carefully, ensuring that she doesn’t hit Layla or Yelena. She may not kill them but she doesn’t want to disable them in any way either.
When she got a good opening, Natasha lined her aim and took the shot, a bullet piercing through Apep’s hand.
Apep whipped around to look at her, growing as he lunged for her. Natasha scrambled back, unaware of exactly how strong the body was with a God inside of it.
“Oh no you don’t!” Tawaret lurched forward to grab at Apep but he flicked her away, causing her to skid across the rooftop near the edge. Natasha moved to circle the perimeter but, with a speed she hadn’t anticipated, a hand wrapped around her ankle as she rolled forward.
“Let her go!” Khonshu roared, colliding with Apep and they stumbled away from Natasha.
Tawaret recovered and made to go to cover behind Apep. She jumped on his back, causing Apep to stagger. Tawaret braced her hands on his head and Natasha heard a loud crack as her hands twisted.
Momentarily, Apep’s body dropped a gurgling escaping the mouth. Natasha wasn’t as foolish to believe that it was over.
It was eery to hear the snap and crunching as a head that was bent at an awkward angle was suddenly jerked upright again. Natasha felt sick to her stomach as Apep lunged and wrapped his hands around Tawaret’s ankles. The armor there melted and Natasha realized that not only was Apep healing the damage done to him but was also careless about the damage he did to himself. She could see the burnt flesh on his palms when he pulled his hands away as Khonshu yanked him back.
Apep was being careless with the damage he dealt to his body because he could heal. Natasha just had to figure out how fast he healed in order to come up with a plan to deal too much for him to fix all at once. She just had to lure him into a trap.
So as much as it pained her to wait, Natasha perched herself on the ledge of the building and watched.
For every blow that was dealt to Apep, the God hit twice as hard. He doesn’t seem afraid of burning through his body.
As Natasha watched, she realized that that was exactly what he was counting on. He never expected his body to hold up, he just wanted to ensure that when he went down he took the others with him.
She wanted to jump into the fight but realized that the Gods were summoning weapons from thin air and it was just too dangerous. She’d die in an instant if she attempted to get involved.
Natasha tried to focus on Apep and see if she could detect any patterns but her eyes kept drifting to the smallest figure. The mask that usually covered White Knight’s face had a large gash in it, revealing underneath an eye and part of the nose and mouth.
When Natasha first saw the face behind White Knight, all she saw was a child that was bathed in violence, branded on her skin as a reminder. She had seen Dina El-Faouly, an ex-Widow.
She had not been able to properly remember her sister’s face. She’d remember the ghost of a six-year-old and the staticky memory of watching the death of her fifteen-year-old sister. She never considered the possibility of the girl sitting in front of her on that rooftop being the girl she had so fondly recalled, and had so desperately mourned.
She hadn’t recognized her sister but her sister had recognized her. How much had it hurt her for someone she cared about so much to gaze upon her like a stranger?
Why hadn’t Yelena said something? Natasha asked her, she thought that she had found someone Yelena cared about, she thought that maybe since she couldn’t save Yelena then she could save someone who knew her.
But Yelena didn't correct her assumptions. She reassured her, comforted her, and waited.
She waited for recognition. Natasha mistook her body language when seeing her face for the first time as shame for her scars.
Natasha had let her down enough times.
There was currently a God inside the body of her sister. There was blood coating her frame, spat from between damaged lips and wiped away from her nose with a sleeve that does nothing more than smear it.
Apep threw Tawaret and she tumbled toward the ledge of the roof. Natasha realized that she wasn’t going to stop in time and lurched forward, barely managing to snag her arm. Tawaret gripped her hard, trying to push herself back up, not used to a human body.
Natasha tried to tug her up but she was heavy with armor and slick with blood.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and caught sight of Apep knocking Khonshu down, keeping him down with a foot planted on his chest as he held up his wrist to display two blades resembling snake fangs.
Khonshu peered up at him, chest heaving as the one eye peeking out from behind the mask gazed up with anger.
Apep moved to land a finishing kill. Watching the arm lift gave Natasha the strength to finish pulling Tawaret up and once the body was back on solid ground, Natasha ran right for Apep.
She wasn’t going to watch her sister die. Not again.
Apep may be a God but he was also in the body of a woman. Natasha easily barreled into him, knocking him off of her baby sister. They tumble onto the ground but Natasha was easily overpowered by the God.
She peered up at the face of a woman she only knew through pictures, one that was once softened by the girl at her side. Natasha would have known a pain similar to her, she could have talked her out of it, convinced her that owing a God the right to her body was not a good deal.
Gone was the woman from the photographs, nothing left behind but an empty shell, a hollow sleeve of skin that was contorted into whatever it's master willed. The face once marred with laugh lines was twisted into anger and hate, a malicious grin playing at the lips as carefully manicured nails pressed down on Natasha’s neck.
Natasha choked, attempting to pry the hands from her neck, to reverse their position, but she was helpless against a God.
Was there where her road stopped? Would SHIELD eventually arrive to find her body prostrated on the gravel rooftop? Had she erased enough red in her ledger for a peaceful afterlife? Had she done enough good?
Clint used to tell her that dying with good intentions was a good death. He promised her that the moment she defected that she would be okay.
Staring up at the sky that had darkened far too much for a late afternoon, watching the clouds drift past the full moon, Natasha wondered if Yelena felt how she did when she died. Was she scared? Had she accepted it? Had she pleaded for more time? Or had she wanted out so badly that dying was better than returning to the hell that was the Red Room?
Natasha was no stranger to death. She grew up in it, she had befriended it as a child, and she had given it so many that weren’t ready for it yet. She never pretended to be naive about her own mortality, she had her own brushes with death, but at that moment there was just an eery calm that washed over her. Her limbs felt heavy and she suddenly had no strength left to grip the hands pressing against her windpipe. Her lungs screamed for air, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to gasp for air.
Black spots decorated her vision, slowly clouding her view of the sky.
She wished that she could have told Yelena she was sorry. That she never forgot her. That she loved her. She had so much she wanted to say.
She just hoped her sister knew.
“Hey!” A voice growled from her left. Natasha had no strength left to even turn her head. The youthful voice of White Knight grew closer, a low undertone of something unworldly growling just after her. “Get the fuck off of my sister!”
The pressure on her was suddenly gone and she greedily sucked in as much air as she could, the sudden surge of oxygen causing her vision to grow dark anyway.
Darkness claimed her as she stared up at the moon.