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Yelena doesn’t attend the funeral.
In fact, she’s fairly sure there isn’t one to attend.
She doesn’t receive some shitty letter from the shitty Avengers, and there’s no stupid coverage that they did for Tony Stark’s stupid funeral, so she assumes that either she’s not invited – unsurprising, really – or that there isn’t one. Not that she wants to go.
It’s only her sister.
Only her sister; the only person in the world that she loves more than anybody else. Only her sister: who’d just come back into her life and then disappeared again without a trace. Only her sister: who’d hung upside down with her in Ohio over playing with the big kids in the neighbourhood. Only her sister who’d kissed her bruises better when she fell.
Only her sister.
Maybe it’s best she doesn’t go.
It would just be a bunch of so-called Avengers who’d all been dead for the past five years pretending like they knew Nat, pretending like they’d all miss her as much as Yelena did. She didn’t have the patience for niceties.
Yelena wanted them all dead. Especially Barton. Clint, or whatever Nat had said his stupid name was. He was the reason she was gone. He was the reason her sister was dead. He was the reason Yelena was alone. She wanted him dead most of all.
The little blonde growled unhappily as she slammed her car door shut.
Her mother smiled.
“You haven’t changed in the last five years, have you?” She said, leaning against the bark of the tree.
Yelena scowled. “No, not really.”
Melina looked a little amused. “Your skin looks good…for a dead person.”
“So does yours.”
“I wasn’t gone.”
Yelena was still getting used to that, the whole being dead thing. She’d been declared legally dead before, a few times actually, but it was different being declared dead when you were actually dead.
Dusting, people had been calling that.
Actually, a pretty accurate description as things went. The last thing Yelena could remember from the experience were the tips of her fingers turning grey and her fellow Widows looking at her with confused, frightened expressions and then nothing. Just momentary darkness and then everything was back to normal again.
Except it wasn’t.
At first, Yelena assumed she’d just fainted. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d pushed herself to exhaustion and ended up on the training floor but this was different. The moment her eyes had opened again, all her friends had been gone and she’d been totally alone on the training room floor.
Then, when she’d emerged, the news was saying over half the universe was had been gone for five years and that the Avengers Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff, known respectively as Iron Man and Black Widow, were dead and everybody was looking at her like she’d grown an extra head.
To Yelena, she felt no different, not personally anyway. Concerning Natasha, she was devastated, which was hence why she was at her sister’s burial site with her mother waiting for her by a tree.
Melina moved as Yelena approached, wrapping her youngest daughter up in a hug.
“I’ve missed you, my darling.”
Yelena’s lip wobbled as her chin rested on Melina’s shoulder. “I miss Natasha.” She answered.
Melina sighed and let her go. “Me too. I like to think she wouldn’t have done anything without proper reason but, you know, it’s Natasha. Thinks with her heart, not her head.”
Yelena nodded. “Yes.”
“Which makes me think she’d like us doing this.” Melina gestured to the tree, looking somewhat soft and sad, but her Red Room exterior prevailed and she managed to keep her tears in check. “We should go see her.”
“I wish we didn’t.”
“I know, little one, but she’d like it.”
“She’s dead. She wouldn’t like anything.”
“I know.” Melina replied calmly. “But we’re going anyway.”
Yelena kept a tight lip as she followed her mother down the track. It was nice here, with all the trees and quiet nature, almost perfect for Natasha, but she was persistent in keeping her face stoic in front of her mother. Couldn’t have Melina seeing that she could cry at the drop of a handkerchief these days. Couldn’t have her thinking she was happy letting Natasha lie in a place like this.
“She used to ask about you, y’know.” Melina mentioned over her shoulder as they walked. “When you were gone.”
“What?”
Melina gave a smile, private to herself and nobody else. “You’re sisters, Yelena. Did you think Natasha wouldn’t look for you when everything happened? Make sure you were alright and still here?”
Yelena stopped.
“She looked for me?”
Melina kept walking. “Tirelessly. Used to come around to mine, asking if I’d heard from you at all, or if anybody I knew had seen you. When they hadn’t, I supposed she figured it out by herself what had happened to you and moved on.”
“Moved on?” Yelena echoed.
“Well, I knew she carried that little picture of you two around but she didn’t come to me anymore. You didn’t have a grave, if that’s what you’re asking. She didn’t think it was appropriate.”
Yelena, despite her stopping-and-starting heartbeat, managed to find the co-ordination to move again.
“I didn’t need one.”
“Mm, I think it was more convenient for her that you didn’t have one, with how busy she was, but you can think that if you like.”
Yelena rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Mama.”
Melina chuckled. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She turned, continuing to walk as she did. “It really is good to see you, you know? I know Natasha would’ve appreciated it.”
“I’m not here to see you.”
“I know, I know, but it’s nice anyway.”
Yelena jutted her chin out. “Where’s Dad?”
Melina looked wistful. “Give him time. He’s still adjusting.” She said. “He’s not you, Yelena. Let him grieve.”
Yelena scowled and rolled her eyes. “The Red Guardian fears nothing.” She muttered, sarcasm dripping in her tone.
Melina said nothing, only falling half a step in front of Yelena as they walked. The trail to Natasha’s grave was long, and the pathway was well-worn down by the number of visitors she’d evidently received. Red ribbons were tied around tree branches and fence posts as she walked, like they were guiding the two women towards Natasha. Yelena hated them.
She didn’t need guiding to where her sister was.
“Your thoughts are very loud.” Melina mused as they rounded a corner. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” Yelena replied.
“Mm, yes. Never been one for small talk, have you?” Melina raised an amused brow. “Clever girl.”
“I don’t need your praise, Mama.” Yelena retorted, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “I just want to see Natasha and go.”
“You know, that’s had me thinking. You and Natasha were never the sentimental type-“
“Not to you.”
“Touche’. Still, it makes me wonder why you’re coming here to see her. Doesn’t seem like you.”
“She’s my sister.”
Melina tilted her head. “And yet, she has a headstone and you didn’t.”
Yelena shrugged. “I’m not the Widow adored by millions.” She glared at her mother out the corner of her eye. “Besides, she knew she could get me back.”
Melina smiled. “You believed in her that much, did you?”
Yelena shrugged again. “Hardly have evidence that she would’ve thought otherwise.”
“Very true. Still, you have more faith in her than I did.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think the low of people like you do.”
The dark-haired woman chuckled. “You haven’t lost that sharp tongue of yours.”
Yelena rolled her eyes. Inside, she wanted to scream at her mother that just because she’d been dead for five years, it didn’t mean she was less of the person she was when they’d last seen each other.
As very different as she was now, she definitely wasn’t less of herself.
Her mother didn’t understand. She hadn’t been dead, had she? She didn’t understand how every time Yelena fell asleep she was terrified she’d wake up in another year than the one she’d drifted off in. She didn’t understand that every time Yelena was in bed, she clung on to whoever she’d shagged so she wouldn’t be left alone, even for a moment. She didn’t understand.
Yelena stopped in the pathway.
“You’re enjoying this.”
Melina stopped too. “I’m choosing to see the positive side of your sister’s death, yes.”
Yelena’s lip wobbled. “How can you see the positive? How is there possibly a good thing about this?”
“Because we had Natasha and now she’s gone and we need to treasure that.” She approached and pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her daughter’s ear. Her dark eyes studied Yelena’s almost tearful expression. “There’s no sadness in death, Yelena. Just celebration.”
Yelena yanked herself away. “I don’t want to celebrate death, Mama!” She spat. “Natasha’s dead and gone, and she’s not here and I want her back!”
She was crying now, her voice sounding desperately pathetic as it merged with hot tears and her mother looked uncomfortable and disapproving, but she didn’t care.
“Someone shoved her off a cliff and now she’s dead and I want her back! And-and…and all these people have been pretending like they know her because she was in the stupid fucking Avengers and e-even they don’t care about her! They threw her away like garbage and didn’t even give her a funeral-“
Melina gave Yelena a hug, letting the blonde shudder and cry against her as they stood in the middle of the track. Despite her discomfort at the tears, she soothed and whispered against Yelena’s ear.
“It’s alright. It’s alright, Yelena, it’s okay.”
Yelena only cried out, desperate and heartbroken with a ragged tone in her shattered voice.
“I want her back, Mama.” She sobbed, burying her head into Melina’s neck. “I want her back, I want her back, I want her back-“
“I know, I know, sweet girl.” Melina ushered quietly, stroking the blonde’s hair. “C’mon, let’s see her, yes?”
Yelena didn’t reply, only held in sniffling, shuddering sobs as her mother linked their arms together and started again down the path. In the back of Yelena’s mind, it played that it couldn’t be much further now.
Not unless she was hiking a fucking marathon.
Thankfully, it wasn’t and by the time they finally reached the little clump of trees, Yelena had managed to dry the rest of her tears on the back of her sleeve.
It was a nice spot, in a way.
There were others here, other graves with names on them that Yelena couldn’t bring herself to care about, but Natasha’s was right at the front. Nearly completely hidden by souvenirs and sad little messages, her headstone stood tall and elegant under the shade of the yew tree.
Yelena didn’t smile when she saw it. Instead, she knelt on the grass to the side and gently pushed the little mementos away. She didn’t let them fall, however, but arranged them neatly around the foot of the stone. Natasha would hit her if she got rid of them.
Yelena’s eyes glassed over the inscription as she rested her forehead on the lilt of the headstone.
Friend. Sister. Avenger.
She smiled, closing her eyes. She hadn’t forgotten about her. Yelena briefly wondered if she had that written in a will or something, or if she’d told her Avenger friends about her. If she had, what had she said about her little sister?
Yelena’s smile grew a little.
Teacher in the west, husband and a son.
I’d like a dog.
Yelena liked to think Natasha had told them she had a dog.
She pressed a kiss to the cool stone and whistled, the old familiar tune they’d always used with each other. As if replying, the wind picked up and the tree above her rustled softly in its breeze. Yelena sighed.
“Hello, sister.”
She felt silly saying it, even sillier knowing her mother was stood just a few feet away, watching her, but speaking with Natasha like this soothed the pain, just a smidge. Yelena sat back, and opened her eyes. She smirked.
“I hope you didn’t die in my jacket, you shit. It was my favourite one, remember? Lots of pockets. I’m going to need it back, Nat, especially if I’m going to kill that Barton friend of yours.”
The wind stilled. Yelena rolled her eyes.
“What? He deserves it. It’s too late to change it anyway, I’ve booked the time off. I’ll show him who the real Black Widow is. Guess I’ve taken up that title, that alright with you? It’s not like you can really argue with me, can you?” She said, giving a small wet laugh. When did she start crying again? “I wanted to see you again, you know? Wanted to show you everything I’ve done with our sisters, how good we can be.”
She was vaguely aware of Melina wandering back a few metres.
“I’ve been showing them everything we missed. You remember twinkies? Those stupid little snack cake things I liked back in Ohio? I gave one to this girl, Estella, last week and I swear, Nat – you should’ve seen her face.” Yelena let herself laugh. “She’d never tasted anything so sweet. I thought she’d barf but she hasn’t stopped eating them since and it makes me remember all the things we used to do together.”
The wind was blowing steadily now and Yelena wasn’t one to believe in anything but with the way this one-sided conversation was going, she couldn’t exactly say the wind wasn’t Natasha.
“I remember the bowling, how you used to hold my fingers in the ball because I wasn’t strong enough to hold it myself. I remember playing with the big kids down the street, how you used to put me on my shoulders so I could feel like I wasn’t the littlest one. How you throw stones at the boy who tripped me. How you used to pick me up when I fell over.”
Yelena leaned back, resting her elbows on her knees and picking at a reed of grass.
“You were a really fucking great sister, you know that? Even when you weren’t there. I couldn’t have a real family but you were as real as they got and you were the best I could’ve hoped for. And I really fucking miss you, Natasha. Do you hear me? Fuck you for leaving me, again. I…I want you to s-sit here and think about what you’ve done, okay?” Yelena gave another wet laugh, rubbing her tearful eyes on the back of her sleeve. “’Cos I’m really fucking mad at you.”
The tree moved above her, casting another dark, tickling shadow against the grey marble. It was as if Natasha were laughing along with her, but recognised the weight of this conversation. Yelena tossed her head as if shooing away a fly, and rose to her feet, scuffing her boot against the sunbathed grass as she did.
“I…um, I don’t really know what else to say. I feel stupid enough talking to you like this, like you’re here or some shit, so I should probably head back. Got that Barton to sort out.”
She levelled again, casting a reluctant eye over Natasha’s engraved name.
“Goodbye, sister.”
Once again, the wind’s breeze died down and the tree above them fell still. Yelena felt another well of tears build up in her chest, but she forced them down and swallowed instead. No more time for tears.
Her back turned and she returned to the path, alone and in grievance. Where her mother went, she didn’t particularly care in that moment but Yelena kept firm as she walked back with her hands in her pockets. Her sister would be avenged, as much as she hated the word.
Clint Barton would pay.
And she would get her sister back.