standing there
Yelena’s next therapy session comes up sooner than she would have liked. She liked Moth a lot better than Damien but each session left her tired and drained.
Skye exits the room with Coulson, bumping her shoulder with Yelena’s as she passes and gives her a smile. Yelena gives her a small smile back before entering with Bobbi. Bobbi takes up her post at the door, leaning against the wall as she pulls out her phone.
“Hello again, Yelena,” Moth greets her, putting away whatever Skye was doing and setting out the same dolls Yelena had picked out last time. “Please take a seat.”
Yelena sits in front of her on the carpet, watching Moth line up the dolls in front of her. Moth then picks up the one that Yelena likened to the General.
“You never told me who this one looked like,” She said. The head and limbs had been returned to their proper position and the doll's black painted eyes stared at Yelena. “Can you tell me?”
Yelena reaches out to take it. Moth lets Yelena have it and Yelena sets it face down on the carpet far from the other dolls. “The General.”
Yelena can see out of the corner of her eye that Bobbi’s head jerks up from her phone to pay attention to the conversation.
“Can we talk about the General?” Moth asked, eyeing the way Yelena set the dolls up. “I noticed you were hurting the doll last time.”
Yelena bit down on the inside of her cheek, scanning the dolls before nodding. She feels uneasy but Bobbi was right there and she wouldn’t let anything happen.
“Who is the General to you?” Moth asked, picking the doll up and flipping it around to look at the ceiling.
That’s a complicated question, even if Moth doesn’t seem to realize it. Yelena picks up the dolls that look like her and Natasha to take them away from the General. “He was my master.” She thinks that’s the best way to explain it.
“And what does a master do?” Moth asked. Yelena bit down on her cheek more, running her thumb over the yarn hair on the doll with red hair. Yelena’s quiet so Moth simplifies the question. “What did your master do to you?”
“We were like puppets,” Yelena finally said quietly, reaching out to grab the back of the General doll’s shirt, pulling it up to make it stand on its legs. “He pulled our strings. We did what he said with no hesitation.”
“What would happen if you did hesitate?” Moth inquired and Yelena frowns.
“We’d get punished.” She murmurs, pushing her doll down onto its knees to make it beg.
“What did punishment entail?” Moth asked. Yelena doesn’t reply, focusing down on the dolls in front of her. “Can you give me an example?”
Yelena manipulates the wire arm of the General doll to raise it, making it come down onto her doll’s back. It’s very quiet in the room as Yelena makes the General doll hit her doll over and over again. The hits get harder, the knock of the wooden hand coming down on the wooden frame of her doll seems very loud in the silent room.
Moth reaches out and gently grasps the Yelena doll, picking it up and straightening it out. Yelena paused, watching her curiously as she gripped the General doll. “If the General was right here in front of you, what would you do?”
Yelena stares down at her doll that is now staring the General doll in the face, looking stronger and braver than Yelena ever was. “He’s dead.” Yelena replies.
“Alright. Let’s pretend that you had the chance to see him. Just like this, you’re standing in front of him. Just you and him. What would you do?” Moth asked. She’s still holding the Yelena doll.
Yelena stares down at the dolls having a stare-off. She wouldn’t be standing strong and tall like this doll. He’s dead. He’s not going to be able to hurt her anymore.
But if he was right here? If he was right in front of her? She had so much to apologize and grovel for forgiveness for. Yelena clenches her jaw, using her free hand to dig her nails into her leg to stave off tears that threaten to appear. Her chest is tight and she can’t quite draw in her breath.
She couldn’t dare go against him. He was so much more powerful than her. He knew just how to bring her down to her knees with a few carefully selected words.
Yelena rears her arm back suddenly and throws the General doll as hard as she can against the wall just above Moth’s head, the doll’s head popping off and rolling on the ground. Yelena feels trapped and she cannot be there any longer. She scrambles to her feet and toward the door.
Bobbi grabs her, wrapping her arms around her. “Woah, kiddo. It’s okay. You’re alright.”
“Get off of me!” Yelena cannot be in that room with that doll. “Let me go! Don’t touch me!”
Bobbi’s so startled by her outburst that she lets Yelena go. Yelena darts out the door and down the hallway, pausing long enough just in front of the door where Natasha was in her session before pushing it open.
Natasha, and who Yelena presumes is her therapist, is inside. Yelena makes a beeline right toward her sister who doesn’t hesitate to shift her body to brace for her. Yelena collides with her, grabbing her sister’s neck to try and pull herself closer.
Yelena still can’t breathe, a whine escaping her lips as she tries to draw a ragged breath in. “Tell me he’s dead.” She demands in a gasp, her Russian fast and slurred together. “The General. Tell me.”
“He’s gone. I killed him,” Natasha doesn’t hesitate to reply in Russian, pulling Yelena’s head to her shoulder. “We’re safe. We’re free.”
Yelena honestly couldn’t care less that there was someone she’d never met watching her have a breakdown in her sister’s lap. She valued the safety and comfort her big sister brought more than putting on a tough front.
It was quiet, the only sound was Yelena’s noisy breathing and the soft shushing noise Natasha made into her ear as Yelena pressed her nose into Natasha’s neck, hiding her face. Gradually, the crushing pressure in her chest loosened and she was able to drag air in without feeling like she was trying to breathe through a pillowcase.
“Do you think we could continue our conversation, Natasha?” The woman behind the desk questioned.
Natasha runs her hand over Yelena’s hair. “Fine.” She said shortly.
“You were telling me about Alexei,” The woman prompts.
“Right.” Natasha said, gently scratching at Yelena’s scalp. “He tried to hide it but I knew when he came home drunk. His clothes stunk and he was louder than normal. He’d come home late, usually after we were in our pajamas and getting ready for bed. He’d always want to rough-house with us.”
Yelena doesn’t remember that, pressing her forehead against the crook of Natasha’s neck to focus on the scent she associated with safety.
“Yelena shared my bed. I’d get her as soon as we were tucked in and I’d bring her into my room,” Natasha continues. Yelena does remember that, Natasha sneaking into her room only moments after their not-mom had said goodnight and tucked her in. Natasha would peel back the blankets that had just been smoothed out and grab Yelena’s hand, making up an excuse for Yelena to follow her. She mostly utilized a ‘monster under the bed’ with a promise of protection.
“Did your fears of him hurting you or your sister ever come to fruition?” The woman questioned.
“Yes. He only hurt Yelena once but I told him if he ever touched her again that I would kill him,” Natasha said. Yelena can only remember one instance where she had gotten hurt. Her not-dad was chasing her down the hallway, trying to initiate a game of chase Yelena didn’t really want to play. Her socks were slippery on the hardwood floor and she slipped and fell down the stairs. She broke her arm and knocked out her two front teeth.
Yelena continues to listen to Natasha and her therapist talk. Natasha was mostly turning questions back to the therapist or answering them in such a way that she never addressed the original point at all. There was the occasional kernel of truth in there to keep the therapist engaged and satisfied. Classic manipulation techniques and Yelena was slightly surprised that Natasha was using them on her therapist.
Yelena honestly hadn’t even thought that was an option.
When the session is over, Natasha pats Yelena’s back to have her get up. Yelena reluctantly stands but Natasha immediately tucks her under her arm, letting Yelena press against her. The woman bids her goodbye but Natasha doesn’t reply, leading Yelena out of the room and down the hall.
On the way back to their bunk, they run into Bobbi. “There you are.” She seems relieved to see Yelena. “I didn’t know where you went.”
“What happened?” Natasha demands in Russian. Bobbi’s eyes snap to peer at her.
“They were talking about the General,” Bobbi replies back, shrinking away when Natasha’s face grows dark.
“I thought you were supposed to be there to stop them from upsetting her!” Natasha snaps, pulling Yelena closer to her.
“I’m there to stop them from taking advantage of her. It was standard questioning and she seemed okay,” Bobbi defends, folding her arms. Yelena curls her fingers into Natasha’s shirt at the raised voices.
“Can we go lay down?” Yelena interrupts their squabble quietly, exhausted. She hated therapy. She hated how it made her feel.
Without another word to Bobbi, Natasha keeps guiding Yelena down the hall toward their bunk. Yelena doesn’t even bother to kick her shoes off before flopping onto their bed and curling up into a tight ball. She resists the urge to roll onto the floor and under the bed to hide.
Natasha pulls Yelena’s foot out from the ball she tucked herself in one at a time, pulling her shoes off and setting them down. “Today was tough.” She comments and Yelena lets out a small noise of acknowledgment. She can hear Natasha pulling her own shoes off before crawling into bed behind Yelena, wrapping her up in her arms. “I’m here. Forever and always.”
Yelena bites down harshly on her lower lip as tears well up in her eyes and finally fall after she had been so afraid to shed them in front of Moth. She feels Natasha press a kiss to the back of her neck and a sob crawls out of her throat and escapes her lips.
The General was dead and he still held so much power over Yelena. Who feared a dead man?
Moth wanted to know what Yelena would do if the General was there in front of her.
Yelena would get down on her knees, plead, and hope that she wasn’t killed for being a traitor. She’d lose her mind and her bodily autonomy as they break her down and build her up again, ripping away the pieces SHIELD had carefully stitched onto her and leaving her empty and broken.
If he’s dead then why is she still so scared?