Chapter 18
Shuri invites Yelena to the lab to ask a few questions. There are three guards with her this time, Ayo, Teela, and a new one that Yelena didn’t recognize.
Shuri makes it quite clear to Natasha that she’s asking Yelena’s questions, not her. Yelena is nervous, tapping her fingers against the buckles on her vest because she didn’t have the comfort of a weapon.
Shuri has Yelena sit on a table in her lab and starts to ask questions. Yelena glances at the guard uneasily and Shuri easily brushes them off.
“Don’t worry about them. They won’t speak a word of what goes on in here to anyone else,” Shuri promised Yelena. “Now. What is your name and age?”
Yelena glances at her sister before looking back at Shuri. “Yelena Belova. I’m sixteen.”
Shuri nods her head. “Dr. Stark said that you are an assassin. How long have you been an assassin?” Shuri sits on a rolling chair.
“I was picked at the age of three,” Yelena tells her. “But my training didn’t start until six.”
“Tell me about these mental problems,” Shuri said. “Mental conditioning?”
Yelena shakes her head. “Mind control. It started when I was ten until I was fifteen or so.”
Shuri frowns. “Were you under it the whole time?”
“When it was needed. I came out of it sometimes,” Yelena glances down at the red vest and runs her thumb over the zipper.
“What sorts of things happened while under mind control?” Shuri inquired and Yelena quietly fusses with the zipper on her vest. “Yelena?”
“Stuff…” Yelena shrugs. “Is the question important?”
Shuri gives her a sympathetic smile. “It is.”
Yelena glances at her sister. As much as she wants her sister near her, she also doesn’t want her sister to hear this. Shuri glances between the two.
“Perhaps, Teela, you could accompany Natasha here to the gardens,” Shuri suggests.
Natasha shakes her head. “I’m not leaving Yelena.”
“Natasha,” Yelena twists to look at her sister. “Please go.”
Natasha frowns, moving toward Yelena. “You don’t have to do this, little one.”
Yelena sighs. “But I do, don’t I?” She frowns. “Please. I don’t want you to listen.”
Natasha stares at her, giving her a moment to change her mind. Yelena doesn’t so Natasha lets out a small nod.
“Okay. The gardens sound lovely,” She turns to glance at Shuri. “Thank you for the offer.”
One of the guards leaves with Natasha and Yelena is left alone with people she doesn’t know.
“Right,” Shuri clasped her hands together. “Where were we?” She glances around before nodding. “Mind control.”
Shuri glances at Yelena expectantly. Yelena takes a few moments to gather her thoughts.
“You wanted to know what I did while under control, correct?” Yelena starts, watching Shuri nod. “You’re… young. I don’t want to disturb you.”
Shuri raised an eyebrow, her stance shifting to something serious as the playfulness goes away. “I’m going to be going inside your mind and targeting triggers.”
Yelena bows her head and starts to talk. She glosses over details, only elaborating when Shuri asks her to. She mainly skims over the sexual abuse she faced and tones back the physical abuse. She talks about her targets and seduction and tells her about General Dreykov.
Shuri listens intently. She nods and doesn’t interrupt her and gives her the time she needs to collect her thoughts and find her words.
Yelena finds Shuri an interesting person to talk to. Something about her just screamed trustworthy. Very few people had that sort of aura.
“Princess, it is time for dinner,” Ayo eventually interrupts and Shuri glances at her.
“Well… I’m not much in the mood for dinner…” Shuri frowns, turning to look at Yelena. “Are you hungry?”
No. Yelena is filled with nausea at just recounting her experiences. She shakes her head.
“Then a break is in order,” Ayo tells her firmly.
“Ayo…” Shuri huffs.
“A break is needed,” Okoye, the other guard, interrupts firmly. “For you both.”
Shuri glances at Yelena and deflates as she nods. “Very well. Shall we go find your sister in the garden?” She questioned Yelena.
Yelena lets out a slow nod and shuffles to slide off the table. There was only one person that knew practically everything and that was Shuri. Not even Natasha or MJ had the full story. Yelena follows quietly behind Shuri, listening to her babble on about the scenery and the gardens.
She’s so out of it that she misses a step and trips over a root. A hand grabs her shoulder and she violently recoils from the touch, the brief flicker of being vulnerable with no weapons on her shoots through her mind as she readies herself to fight back.
The Dora Milaje had drawn their weapons as Shuri, the one who grabbed her, waves them off. “It was my own fault.” She tells them. “I should have known better. I apologize, Yelena.”
Yelena reaches up to cup over where Shuri had grabbed her. She takes a moment to remember how to breathe.
Shuri reaches out to pick a purple flower and caressed the petals as she starts telling some story about a panther cub in the forest.
Yelena feels like her senses are dialed to eleven. She feels like she’s feeling everything and nothing all at once. Shuri gently grips her wrist and sets the flower into Yelena’s palm. Yelena looks at the vibrant purple of the flower, feeling the softness of the petals on her skin and smelling the floral scent it emitted. She focuses on the story Shuri is telling her until she realizes that they’re standing in the middle of a pathway and they have been for a while now.
“I’m sorry,” Yelena finally manages to get out when she finds herself able to form words again.
“There’s nothing to seek forgiveness for,” Shuri comments, reaching out to pluck the flower from Yelena’s hand before tucking it into one of the strands of Yelena’s braid. “Shall we continue on and find your sister?”
Yelena nods slowly and they continue moving on the pathway.
The garden was large and beautiful. Natasha makes a straight line toward them as soon as she catches sight of Yelena’s bright blonde hair. Yelena eagerly sinks into her sister’s arms.
Natasha kisses her forehead softly, wrapping her up in her arms. Yelena closes her eyes, focusing on the scent of her sister.
“I’m sorry,” Yelena whispers because whenever she does something she’s not supposed to then she’s supposed to apologize.
Widows don’t cry. Widows are made of marble.
“It’s alright,” Natasha whispers into her ear, pulling Yelena closer. “You can cry. I don’t care.”
Yelena can feel shuffling as the others leave and it’s just her and her sister in the garden.
Natasha cups the back of her head and reminds her once again. “You are allowed to feel things. You can cry. Nobody will judge you.”
Yelena inhales sharply before her vision blurs and the emotions of the past twenty-four hours bubble over and spill out.
Yelena is a broken useless thing surrounded by a field of beauty and she feels so shattered, like a glass carelessly nudged off the edge of a table, pieces getting lost and no matter how hard anyone tries there will be imperfections, chips, and empty places.