Chapter 45
Layla could usually anticipate things in life because life just wasn’t that hard to anticipate. At least until she figured out about the existence of actual Gods and then had an immortal child bleed out on the floor of her apartment.
Being arrested by an intelligence agency was, of course, another one of those things that she just couldn’t have anticipated. She’d rank that below ‘suicidal plan to fist fight a God’.
Her whole body ached and she couldn’t really do much as she was tugged away from where Natasha was crouched over Yelena on the floor. Layla tried to ask questions but no one would tell her anything including where they were taking her or how Yelena was doing.
Tawaret was radio silent. She had thrust Layla back into control with no warning and was gone, leaving her to navigate the aftermath of the fight on her own.
SHIELD was nice in the way that it could be worse. While she was taken to an interrogation room, they also asked if she needed medical assistance or a change of clothes. When Layla turned both down, mainly because she didn’t trust the intelligence agency as far as she could throw them, they buckled down and got straight to the point.
The thing was, Layla wasn’t really sure how to describe the events of that day. She had no cover story, she had not arranged what she was going to say, and she wasn’t even sure how to explain it in the first place. She had sworn to Tawaret long ago that she would protect her identity and conceal the existence of Egyptian Gods. Yet there she sat in her Scarlet Scarab uniform after jumping off a building where the moon was in the sky where it definitely shouldn’t be.
She knew the moment that they called her “Miss El-Faouly” that her identity was compromised and that she was in some serious shit. When she skirted around a lot of the questions, asking to see White Knight instead, they switched to questions about Yelena’s identity and age. Layla had to hope that Yelena’s fake identity was strong enough to protect her from the government. That doesn’t mean that passing over the name “Dina El-Faouly” hadn’t felt like a betrayal.
Layla refused to budge much, being as difficult as she could, insisting on seeing White Knight. If she couldn’t see her then she at least wanted to see Natasha. The way that they were avoiding answering her questions made her question if being arrested by the government worked the same way as if she was picked up by the local police force.
She tried to ask if they were holding her on any particular charges, then asked if they were even able to hold her without formally charging her before asking if she needed a lawyer and wanted a phone call, not that she had anybody she could call. They don’t give her a proper answer to any of her questions and it frustrated her. She was tired and sore and bloody and just wanted to go home and take a long hot shower.
“If we’re done here then I want to leave and I want to see White Knight,” Layla said forcefully, moving to stand.
The agent interrogating her finally spoke. “White Knight is being held at the moment.” They sounded annoyed that Layla wasn’t cooperating.
“On what grounds?” Layla demanded because she wasn’t even sure if ‘moving the moon in the sky’ was a crime they could charge someone for.
“Manslaughter.” Came the reply because of course Yelena could never do things halfway and would get arrested for murder the one time she couldn’t handle herself.
“May I at least see her please?” Layla figured that if being stubborn wasn’t working then slathering in some extra politeness couldn’t hurt. “She was really hurt.”
“She’s in holding in the infirmary,” the agent replied to her in a bored tone.
“She’s my niece!” Layla finally pulled that card, wondering if the government even had protocols about minors and guardians in place.
Like some sort of magic, the door to the interrogation room was pushed open and a new agent walked in, carrying herself with an air of confidence. “No, she’s not.” The way that the first agent immediately deferred to them had Layla recognizing that she was dealing with someone very high up in the chain. “We know that White Knight is a Black Widow assassin.”
“Congrats.” Layla wasn’t sure what else to say to that. “May I see her now?”
The woman raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Layla. “I want her name,” she said. “The one on her birth certificate.”
“She doesn’t have a birth certificate,” Layla immediately retorted before resorting to bargaining. “I’ll tell you when I see her.”
The woman let out a hum before nodding. “Sure,” she said, surprising Layla at how quickly she folded. “But you’ll wear these.”
The woman held up a pair of handcuffs. They looked like regular handcuffs, the inside padded with what looked like a blue memory foam that appeared to be for comfort. Something about it confused Layla but she doesn’t hesitate to stick her hands out, willing to do whatever it took to see Yelena.
The moment that the cuffs were snapped around her wrists, she realized her mistake. She nearly staggered as there was a sudden ache in her chest that left her feeling empty, her armor vanishing and leaving her in the outfit she was wearing underneath them. “What are these?”
“Power-dampening cuffs,” the woman replied, tightening them slightly. Layla watched her, cold fear pooling in her gut.
Layla couldn’t call forth her suit anymore and she wasn’t even sure if she was still linked to her Goddess. She tried to quietly pray but she had reached out when she was first dragged away from Yelena to no avail.
Trying to keep a steady voice, she asked, “Did you put these on White Knight?”
“Yes.” The woman stepped back, satisfied that Layla was secured as she moved toward the door. Layla was frozen in place, staring down at the cuffs as her chest ached and mourned the connection.
“You have to take them off….” her voice sounded distant to her own ears. She tried hard not to think about Tawaret’s grim explanation when she revealed to Layla that if anything happened to Khonshu and he severed his connection with Yelena then there was a possibility that she could die. “Now. You have to take them off.”
The woman paused in the doorway, looking back at her. “Why?”
“You have to take them off!” Layla repeated, trying to remember how to breathe. She could barely recognize the dangerous position she put herself into when she lunged at the woman, gripping the lapels of her uniform. “You’re going to kill her!”
The woman held up her hand and Layla belatedly realized that the agent that had interrogated her had a gun trained on her. The woman looked down at Layla and Layla was suddenly glad that she hadn’t quite learned how to mask her emotions because the woman’s gaze shifted to something serious. Layla let her go and took a wobbly step back as the woman reached up a hand to her earpiece to relay the order for the cuffs to be switched to regular ones.
“Do you need to sit down?” The woman aimed the question at Layla when she finished, her lips pressing together in thought.
“No.” Layla definitely felt worse without her connection to her Goddess. She wanted to just lay down and curl up but she needed to see Yelena. “I’m fine.”
Whether or not the woman believed her, she still shrugged and nodded, opening the door and gesturing for Layla to exit.
On the way there, the woman struck up conversation again. “We have reports of White Knight spanning back to around five years ago, yet she has a rather youthful appearance. Tell me, how old is she?”
Layla glanced over at the woman, taking in the way her jaw clenched slightly. She figured that if the cover of Dina El-Faouly had been blown then she could go with the truth, especially when Yelena’s physical appearance didn’t match her chronological age. “Fifteen.”
The woman pressed her lips together in displeasure, her brow furrowing slightly. “And how long has White Knight been fifteen?” She challenged.
Layla resisted the urge to sigh. “Long enough.” She wasn’t going to play around with the woman until she had a concrete story to tell her. An immortal child/thought dead sibling of The Black Widow was not likely to go over well.
She was relieved when they reached the infirmary, glad that the woman had kept her word. Before Layla could enter, a hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“A name,” the woman prompted. Layla had promised a name in exchange for seeing Yelena.
“Yelena.” There were plenty of Yelena’s and Layla never agreed to a first and last name.
The unimpressed raised eyebrow was back. “Full name.”
Before Layla could retort, Natasha suddenly appeared and grasped her shoulders looking her over.
“You’re alright.” The statement was breathed out in relief from between Natasha’s lips. Whether it was because she truly worried that Layla had been hurt or because she was trying to reassure Layla that things were okay, Layla wasn’t sure. Her gaze then suddenly locked onto the handcuffs.
Natasha turned to look at the woman and addressed her. “What is this, Maria?”
“Precautions.” The woman, Maria, looked just as unimpressed with Natasha as she did with Layla. “Stat report on White Knight.”
Natasha’s face twisted into a scowl. “Better with the fucking cuffs off. I told you they were hurting her.”
“You do not have the right to be angry with me for assuring the wellbeing of my agents,” Maria told Natasha firmly, leaving no room for arguments. “I’m not even going to mention the fact that you have yet to explain how you fit into all of this. You went AWOL and against orders. You lied to my face that you were not compromised.”
“Things changed,” Natasha replied curly before turning to address Layla. “She was asking for you.”
“She’s awake?” Layla asked in surprise. She remembered Yelena sleeping for a very long time the last time she died. While she wasn’t sure if Yelena died during the fight, using all of Godly powers and having a constant healing factor running was sure to tire her out.
“In and out.” Natasha motioned for Laya to follow her. Layla moved to do so, glancing back at Maria to see if she would stop her and demand a last name once again. Maria had her face pinched in displeasure but she doesn’t stop Layla from entering.
Layla noticed immediately that even without the special cuffs on, Yelena was without her uniform, leaving her in just the leggings and tank top she had on underneath. She had a few large injuries that Layla had missed in the heat of the fight, blood soaking through the thin clothes she wore.
“The cuffs probably stopped the healing,” Layla mumbled to Natasha as she moved forward and gently touched Yelena’s wrist, turning her arm to expose her burned palms. She was glad that it seemed the infirmary only tried to stop active bleeding and not take care of every wound although she was sure that was Natasha’s influence.
Layla carefully moved her cuffed hands up to Yelena’s face, gently cupping an unbruised part of Yelena’s jaw as she leaned down. “C’mon, kiddo. It’s time to wake up. You can sleep when we’re home.” When they’re safe.
Yelena let out a soft groan, her eyes flickering open to peer up at Layla with hazy eyes. “--La,” she could only manage the second syllable of her name. “'kay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Layla reassured her, watching as Yelena’s face twisted in pain. “You’re okay too.”
“Where’s Taw--” Yelena started but Layla quickly pressed a finger to her lips to let her know that they weren’t in a safe place to speak. Yelena blinked up at her in confusion, her eyes quickly darting around the room. “Where are we?”
“SHIELD,” Layla said, not bothering to push Yelena back down when she struggled to sit up, instead helping her up and letting her lean against her. Natasha was immediately at her side and Yelena tensed up, on guard and ready for a fight despite her condition until she recognized who it was.
Yelena looked between Layla and Natasha. “Nattie?” Yelena breathed out slowly, looking down at the tattoo on her arm before looking back up at her sister. “Are you… real?”
“Yeah,” Natasha’s voice cracked as she hesitantly reached out. “I’m real.”
Yelena’s face crumbled as she looked up at Layla with a teary gaze, waiting for her nod of reassurance. Layla gave her a nod, letting her know that Natasha knew who she really was.
Yelena immediately twisted and reached for Natasha, ignoring the way one of her hands was cuffed to the bed.
Natasha tried to hug her sister without aggravating any healing injuries but Yelena had no such qualms and wormed her way as close as she could, pressing her bruised face into Natasha’s shoulder to hide her tears.
Natasha was whispering to Yelena in another language so Layla wasn’t privy to their conversation. She wasn’t going to leave though, not of her own free will.
“I’m sorry,” Yelena mewled out into Natasha’s shirt. “I wanted to find you--”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Natasha said firmly, pressing her lips to the top of Yelena’s head in relief. “I’m just happy you’re alive.”
The pair of sisters were soaking in each other when Yelena suddenly turned her head to look in the corner of the room. Layla felt a trickle of hope fill her.
“Is he here?” She asked quietly, watching as Yelena stroked the tattoo on her arm gently.
Yelena gave a soft nod. “He has to go,” she said quietly. “They’re holding a trial. He has to be there.”
“But he’ll be back?” Layla pushed, relieved when Yelena nodded. A small smile crossed Yelena’s face as she gave a small wave to the corner of the room before sinking back into her sister’s arms.
Yelena then turned to look at Layla, the smile slipping slightly. “How much have you told them?”
“Not much,” Layla admitted. “Your age and first name. I wasn’t sure how we were going to explain…” She gave a vague gesture. “The whole moving the moon thing.”
Yelena nodded slowly before looking up at her sister, suddenly looking like a scolded child as she asked, “How much trouble am I in?”
Before Natasha could reply, they were interrupted by someone entering the room.
“Knock knock,” the man chirped, waving to Layla and Yelena before addressing the latter. “You may remember me as ‘guy you didn’t kill’. Others call me Clint. Today, you can refer to me as ‘getaway driver’.”
“Clint…” There was caution in Natasha’s voice as she addressed the man. “What did you do?”
“Oh, y’know,” Clint waved his hand in dismissal. “Called in a few favors, caused a little chaos. Our window of opportunity is very small.”
Layla watched with confusion as Clint approached the bed with a small device that he stuck into the keyhole of the handcuffs, watching it twist and unlock them. “You’re springing us?”
“Hi, you must be Layla,” Clint grinned at her. “Very cool move diving off the side of the building, I liked your wings.” Clint grasped her hands before she could stop him and stuck the same device into her cuffs.
Layla blinked in surprise. “Uh… thanks.” Warmth flooded her chest as the feeling of her Goddess returned when the cuffs hit the ground.
“Clint…” Natasha’s tone was terse. “Care to share?”
“Look, I dunno what’s going on between you and the little feral child--” Clint ignored the insulted glare Yelena sent at him. “But she’s obviously important enough to you that you went nearly catatonic when they took her away.”
Natasha accepted the brief explanation with a curt nod. “Thanks…”
“Of course,” Clint turned his attention back to Yelena. “Can you walk?”
Yelena started to nod before slowly shaking her head and admitting defeat.
“Alright. Mind if I carry you?” Clint asked. Yelena glanced at Natasha who gave a nod.
“I trust him,” Natasha said and that was all Yelena needed to nod at Clint.
Fifteen minutes later found Layla sitting in the passenger seat of a truck, looking back at where Yelena was curled into her sister in the back seat. The kid had been exhausted and was already fast asleep again, laying across the seats as Natasha looked down at her with a soft stare while she stroked her hair.
Layla doesn’t bother asking where they were going. She herself was exhausted.
She fell asleep leaning against the window to the sight of the moon high in the sky.