She prowled around in the night, with a gun in hand. Three Widows followed her, scouting the area of the backyard of a comfy-looking house Madame B had asked her to track down. She had bought a ticket and here she was. She needed to track down two people. Take the traitor back. Kill Captain America and bring his body back.
Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America. Yelena loaded her gun as she crept closer to the house, concealed in the bushes. "Find Rogers," she whispered to the other three Widows. She tossed her blonde hair back. "I'll take Romanoff." She eyed the black-haired woman behind her.
"Melina, I want you to come with me," she ordered.
Melina was one of the older women training in the Black Widow program. She had impeccable fighting skills and she was practically born to be a spy with her stealth abilities. Yelena was more reckless, wanting to fight as soon as possible without wasting time. Some would even call her impulsive. But she was told that she had been trained by the same trainer who taught the traitorous Widow, so their skills matched. She cracked her knuckles.
"What are we to do now?" Melina shifted her position in the dark, and the moonlight that peeked through the gaps between the leaves of the bush they were in caught the red streak in her jet-black hair.
"We go in, find that traitor, and take her down. It'll be easy, with you and I. She's hurt, I've heard." Yelena nodded her head toward the Widows advancing the house across from them. They were fast.
"But remember she is the first out of all of us to be given the title, 'Black Widow'. No injury can stop her," Melina warned.
"I'm the one to take down that mantle too," Yelena snapped back. "Since she helped the enemy, she's no longer one of us. I'm the Black Widow now."
Melina stayed quiet, and after a while of uncomfortable silence, she cracked a joke. "I've watched you since you were small, Yelena. You've grown so beautiful, though you still have your big nose."
Yelena frowned. "I...I don't remember that part."
"It's all right." Melina smiled at her.
Yelena rubbed her nose. Fondness was never part of her nature, but sometimes, she wondered if all the things that Melina said were true, and if it were, Melina was the mother she never had. Something squeezed her chest. "You said you've been watching me?"
"Since you are very young," Melina confirmed. She wasn't like other Black Widows. Her face was kind whereas the others were cold. She cared for Yelena in a way Madame B never could. Yelena remembered running to a black-haired woman and weeping into her thighs when Madame B had whipped her for failing ballet. She was so sure it was Melina. Those kind eyes were there, though some had been stolen away from her, she still remembered. But most of all what made Melina shine out from the rest of the assassins, she had a mother's smile.
"You...You never got your memories wiped, have you?" Yelena asked.
"Oh, of course I did. It was horrible." Melina thumbed the grenade strapped to her belt. "But once I got older, Madame B rarely forces my memories to be wiped clean. I don't remember my childhood, but I remembered you. The way you cried into my shirt. I remembered it all. I begged Madame B to not wipe away my memories of you, and finally she gave in." She flashed a grin at Yelena, all gleaming white teeth.
Yelena didn't return it back. But her heart had eased, and it was a good feeling. She tensed when she heard a shriek, and readied her gun. "On the count of three, you throw the grenade into the house."
"One..."
Melina pulled the pin off the dangerous ball.
"Two..."
Her fingers tightened around it.
"Three..."
She reared back.
"Now!"
The grenade flew out the bush in a rustle of leaves and landed at the back door.
"Impressive aiming," Yelena commented.
The house exploded in roaring flames. Melina's body went crashing into Yelena as she shielded the younger Widow. Ash and debris went flying, and the heart from the fires blurred the night sky. Smoke polluted the air.
"Go, go, go!" Melina shoved Yelena ahead of her and both of them ran into the wrecked house. Both Widows dodged falling wooden planks and narrowly avoided being burned by the hungry flames that swallowed the house.
A figure with fiery hair appeared admist the smoke and fire. Yelena's eyes stung, and she pulled the scarf she had brought over her nose and secured safety goggles over her eyes. She blinked them clear, took aim, and fired.
The figure dodged the bullet and pivoted around. Green eyes like Yelena's stared back at her, and she gasped. "Sestra?"
"I'm not your sister, traitor." Yelena leaped over the flames and slammed Natalia Romanova down onto the floor. She pinned down Natalia's arms and her knees ground into the redhead's thighs. Natalia reached up with one knee, but Yelena had seen it coming. Their tutors were the same, after all. She grabbed Natalia's leg and twisted it. The redhead howled. Then, Yelena tried to punch Natalia's face, but the assassin hooked her legs around Yelena's waist and flipped her over. Yelena ducked into a roll and sprang up onto her feet.
Natalia barrelled into Yelena full force. Both girls grappled, dodging and hitting and feinting.
"You can't kill someone who knows your skills. Someone who can see what you're about to do." Yelena pushed Natalia hard into the wall. The flames reached for the both of them greedily. "Come with me, or die."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure Madame B wouldn't want me dead if you bring me back to the Red Room. That isn't the smartest move, sister." Natalia was holding back from hurting Yelena, Yelena could see it in the way she fought. She was using defense, not attack. Blood started staining her jacket. Her eyes went sorrowful. "Please, I don't want to kill you."
Yelena laughed. "Some Black Widow you are." She took out a knife, and Natalia closed her eyes.
"You don't remember?" the spy whispered.
"I remember nothing, Romanoff." Yelena's knife came stabbing down toward Natalia's heart, but a scream sounded nearby.
Melina.
Yelena shrieked when she saw Melina's dead body thudding to the floor. A figure stood behind her, and he had blonde hair and a broad chest. A shield was in his hand, stained with blood. Melina's blood.
"Steve-" Natalia gasped. "Melina, no-"
"TRAITOR!" Yelena flung herself at Steve. Her rage made the words melt in her head. She couldn't think. Her heart roared. Her knife came down onto the shield, and the vibration traveled down her veins. She threw away her knife and went for Steve's face. She was so angry that she thought if she touched the flames nearby, she wouldn't burn up. The shield came in contact with her chest, and his brute force sent her into a wall. The shield crushed her chest and her lungs burned.
"Steve! No, please stop."
Yelena crumpled to the floor and crawled toward Melina's prone body. She rolled the body over. Blood coated Melina's forehead. Her rage quietened down to something that seemed to crush her chest. It's as if the shield was still there, pressing down hard.
"Melina..."
Natalia's voice brought Yelena back to her senses. Her heart started thumping so fiercely that it set the blood in her aflame. "You don't deserve to grieve!" she screamed. "You heartless monster!"
"Before you go around calling people a heartless monster, take a look at yourself," Steve responded coldly.
"Steve-" Natalia started.
"But at least I care!" Yelena shrieked back. "You are supposed to be the world's defender, leader of the Avengers, and you killed her!"
Steve looked down at Melina's bloodied body, and Natalia squeezed her eyes shut.
"She's the only other Widow that cared about me!" Yelena continued. Flames scorched her back. "You saw him." She glared at Natalia. "You saw him. And you didn't do anything!"
"I-I didn't." Natalia's eyebrows furrowed together. She looked like she was about to cry.
Yelena picked Melina's body up and ran. Ran away from the burning house. She didn't plan on going back to Russia.
She ran and ran until she fell to the dirt underneath her. She dragged herself to shelter beneath a cover of trees and set to work, digging and digging. After she had put Melina's body into the grave she had dug up, she covered it with dirt and collapsed beside it.
"I'm sorry I couldn't give you a better grave," she whispered.