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“--and those agents that you chemically subjugated around the globe?” Yelena takes in a sharp breath, steadying her voice before she continues. “That was me…” She can barely glance at Melina, her eyes skimming over her face too fast to decipher the emotion present. Her gaze turns toward Natasha.
“And you?” She thought Melina had died and Alexei had given them up. Natasha had protected her until they were dragged apart. “You got out... Dreykov made sure no one could escape. Are you gonna say anything?”
Natasha is quiet, regret on her face but she doesn’t open her mouth. Yelena shakes her head with a scoff. “No.” She swats away the hand that Melina tries to set onto her shoulder. “Don’t touch me!”
The legs of the chair screech against the floor as she stands abruptly, her hand reaching out to snatch the bottle of vodka from the table. She storms from the room, her fingers clenching the neck of the bottle tightly as she slips into the guest bedroom and closes the door, taking a moment to press her forehead against the wooden frame.
She counts her breaths, pulling away from the doorframe to take a seat beside the bed and lean against it. She tilts the bottle side to side in her hand and watches the clear liquid slosh inside the container before she brings the bottle to her lips and takes a long sip.
It burns going down and Yelena closes her eyes to focus on the pain. The door opens and she lets out a long sigh. “I came in here because I didn’t walk to talk.”
“Then I won’t talk.” Melina’s voice startled Yelena. She listens to the sound of Melina’s footsteps as she crosses the room before sinking to sit next to her.
It’s quiet. Yelena likes the quiet because it’s easy to listen for anything that could jump up and harm you.
But being quiet next to Melina is unnerving because Melina being silent never faired well for her as a child.
She idly taps her fingers against the glass bottle before she brings it back up to her lips. She takes another swallow, feeling something move beside her. She opens her eyes to see Melina’s hand outstretched.
She reluctantly passes the bottle over only for Melina to bring it up to her own lips instead and take a sip. There’s no other sound except for the vodka swishing in the bottle as it’s passed back and forth.
Yelena finally pulls her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them before breaking the silence. “I hate you.” The words are cold and it hangs uneasily in the air as Yelena curls in on herself when the words leave her lips.
“That’s fair…” Melina said quietly, accepting the bottle for another sip.
Yelena hadn’t expected that reply from her. It makes her feel terrible. Like she’s the bad guy here. “I was six.”
Melina inclines her head. “Natasha was even younger.” She closes her eyes before letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
Yelena scoffs at the apology, her fingers digging into the fabric of her suit that covered her legs. “Sorry doesn’t erase the past twenty years.”
Melina nods her head slowly. “It doesn’t.” She agrees but it only makes Yelena clenches her jaw.
“Why aren’t you mad?!” She demands, twisting to look at Melina as she slams the bottle of vodka to the ground and some splashes out the top to soak the wooden floor. “I’m mad! I’m mad at you! At Alexei! At Natasha! I’m so mad at everything all of the time!”
Melina doesn’t look angry or upset. She just looks tired. “I have no anger left to give.”
“Not even for the people who tortured the girls you mothered for three years?” She demanded but quickly looks away when her vision blurs with tears that she fails to keep at bay. “I meant it. You were my mother. The only one I have ever know. Am all I ever was just a mission? Just another chore for you to do?”
“Of course not,” Melina immediately replies. “I would change anything for those three years.”
“When we were little, you always told us that pain makes us stronger,” Yelena twists until her back is facing Melina so the woman can’t see her furiously scrub away at the tears that fall. “It doesn’t--” Her breath hitches as she suppresses a sob. “It just hurts.”
“Yelena--” Melina reaches toward her but Yelena jerks away from her touch when her fingertips graze Yelena’s vest.
“I hate you!” Yelena repeats, pressing the heel of her palms into her eyes. “I hate you so much!”
Melina reaches out again, grabbing her shoulder. Yelena hates the way that she leans into the touch. She hates the way that she falls into Melina as she sobs.
“I missed you--” She chokes out, no longer fighting as Melina pulls her against her chest.
“I missed you too, my little lightning bug,” Melina’s voice is soft and the sound of her childhood nickname just makes her cry harder. “I am sorry for the way that things have turned out.”
Yelena hates Melina so much but she missed her mama so much more. She just wants to take a few moments and pretend that she’s six again.
“The best part of my life was fake and you never told me--” Yelena hates the way that she whimpers. The way that her mind whispers that it’s alright for her to be young and vulnerable because this is her Mama . Her mama would have never hurt her.
It’s been twenty years but her mama still has her soft touch that makes Yelena melt against her with only a few fingers.
“I can’t change the way that things have gone,” Melina’s hand moves to rake her fingers through the strands of loose hair that had fallen from Yelena’s braids and framed her face. “What’s done is done. But I do regret not preparing you more.”
“They hurt me. Dad-- Alexei just let them take us. Then they took me from my sister too. I was all alone and they hurt me and I didn’t understand why nobody came back for me--” Yelena stifles the way that her breath hitches as more sobs threaten to escape. “I just wanted to go home and all they did was laugh as I cried.”
Melina tries to pull her closer but Yelena finally shoves herself away. “No.” She shakes her head. She hadn’t been hugged in years. She learned that nobody would take care of her so she had to take care of herself. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into a false sense of security.
“It wasn’t my choice,” Melina said, desperation in her tone. “You would have been taken from me anyway.”
“You couldn’t have told me what I would be going into? How crying only got me hit or nobody will care if I fall down or don’t eat? How they’ll train me until I blackout or how I’ll kill little girls for being weak?” She demanded, snatching the bottle back to take another long swallow.
“You wanted me to explain to you that at six years old that you would be forced to kill others?” Melina arches an eyebrow and Yelena feels like she’s being made fun of.
“Natasha was the only person that tried to explain anything. She told me in a shipping container full of other girls and women being trafficked that we were going to someplace bad and that I had to be big and strong,” Yelena shakes her head with a scoff. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. They made me kill someone only a few months after they ripped me away from Natasha. I don’t even remember it.” She lets out a huff, curling her fingers into the fabric of her bodysuit. “Just a lot of screaming and crying and blood. A lot of blood…”
“I can’t change the past, Yelena. You are holding me accountable for something that I can’t change,” Melina points out and Yelena knows that.
“You are the reason that I cannot get attached to people or things. Because people that I love will eventually be taken from me or hurt me. And I know that you can’t change it and I already feel like shit for hating you,” She can’t look at Melina any longer, focusing on the emotions that flicker across her face. She instead stares at a ghastly painting framed on the wall. “I want my mama… ”
“I’m right here,” Melina says but Yelena shakes her head before she even finishes the sentence.
“I don’t have a mama. Not anymore. My mama’s dead. She died right in front of me. You are just a woman that shares her face,” Yelena clenches her jaw, not bothering to wipe away the tear that slides down her cheek and drips off her chin. “I don’t have a daddy. I apparently don’t even have a sister. I’m alone.”
She tilts her head back, feeling another tear slide down her jaw and neck only to be absorbed by her vest as she lets out a bitter laugh. “Am I really that unlovable? That people just forget about me?”
“I never forgot about you,” Melina denies firmly. “I didn’t know about my experiments being used on you.”
“Would it have mattered anyway?” Yelena shoves her nose into her knees so that she can hide her face. “Would it have made it better if it was just some other scared little girl?”
Melina doesn’t answer her. Yelena doesn’t expect her to.
A bright blue light flashes from outside, enveloping the room and causing Yelena to cover her eyes instinctively. There is a sound of a distant helicopter and heavy footsteps. Yelena twists to look at Melina.
There’s regret and remorse swimming in her eyes that distract Yelena long enough for a tranq dart to find its way home in her shoulder.
Yelena steels her face and prepares to take her death quietly, nothing but bitterness, betrayal, and vodka churning in her gut as she sinks into darkness.