It's hard, it's like a knife in the gut, a literal pain she knows, to see the woman she considers her daughter in pain. And she can't make that pain go away, not like a kiss to a scraped knee or killing a Red Room agent who attacked her. This is beyond her ability to fix in any way, she isn't equipped for it.
She misses Natasha too, and she's proud of her, and she hates herself for not stepping in when she could have. And she's angry that Nat never called her for help. And she's furious that Red Room took everything from her girls and gave them a future that was destined to be filled with complexity and pain. She is so ill prepared to help with that.
Melina hadn't been prepared for hearing 'mom' or 'mommy.' How could she know the surge she would feel in her chest for her girls being hurt or being excited. They were so eager and smart and open to the world that she'd almost forgotten that the whole thing was a charade sometimes. She'd failed her mission because she'd loved her family.
"I know. I miss her too. So much it feels like part of me is gone and what's left just hurts."
The grief and the pain of this loss is one she cannot see ever being... smaller, hurting less, and there are so many things tangled up around it that make it even harder to let go of. Meeting the man who was, by Valentina's account, the reason her sister was dead had done nothing to simplify it, either. Clint Barton was broken by her sister's sacrifice, too, and she hasn't really been able to unpack everything from that last fight.
It's weak. It's childish. She hates herself for it and the way it goes against everything she's been taught and raised to be... but she curls into Melina, "It isn't fair," she mumbles against her mother's shoulder; she knows it's stupid to say- nothing has ever been fair in her life- but it's all she can think, "Why couldn't it be someone else?" Anyone else at all. Just not Natasha.
Melina wound an arm around her and drew her close enough to rest her chin on the soft blond of her hair.
Oh, there was a question. When did fairness ever enter into things? Had their choosing been fair? It was just random ugliness.
"She ran from the wolf and ran into the bear." It was an old proverb, older than her by far, but just as true. Natasha had tried to leave her past behind her and wound up running into something even more deadly. She became a hero and sacrificed herself to save everyone. Oddly the thought made her smile even in her sadness, she smiled in pride.
"Our Natasha, she couldn't come to holiday dinners or barbecues, but she could travel across the universe and give her life to save so many. It is unfair how badly she makes the rest of us look."
Comfort. It isn't something they're any good at, not really. Not any of them. Comfort was never one of the directives of the Red Room. But there is a comfort in her mother's arm curling around her, the press of her cheek against the top of her head. Almost like she's just a little girl again.
"Stupid bear," she mumbles as she pulls away slowly, swiping her hands under her eyes to wipe away any evidence of her tears.
That at least gets a laugh out of her, brittle and shaky, but immensely better than crying. "Honestly..."
No, but the program had made them nothing if not capable improvisers. The benefit of their training allowed them to appear as a family and by doing that enough she'd been able to fool even herself. Or had she? What she felt for her girls and even for Alexi was true. When she lost her family she felt that loss.
And to see Yelena laugh even a little lifted her heart. Melina wiped away the tear trail off Yelena's cheek with the back of her knuckle.
"She has given us a chance to make her proud, we will do this, yes?" She lifted Yelena's chin and gave her a solid look expecting an answer.
It was never a lie. Not for Yelena, too young to understand any of it at the time. It made her separation from them perhaps even harder. But it was the thought of the reunion of them that saved so many of her nights in the barracks with the other Widows. One day, she’d escape, she would find them again.
And she had. And it had been an absolute disaster. But Yelena wouldn’t trade her family for anything in the world. They were hers, the rest didn’t matter.
She lifts her gaze to meet Melina’s. “You’re going to make me cry more,” she complains, a tiny pout on her lips, but she nods, gives her the answer she was waiting for, “Yes… we- we will. We can track the other Widows down, reverse the subjugation, give them new identity. New lives… it’s what she would want.” She blinks back the tears trying to build again. “You will help me, won’t you, Mama?”
What family remained they had now, and none of them seemed inclined to let it slip away again.
"No, no crying. It gives wrinkles."
She took her shoulders and gripped them firmly. "I am with you, and we will help our sisters. No one need suffer what the program has put them through ever again."
And she could help with the chemical and mental programming aspects of what had been done, she was in a unique position to undo the damage she'd caused. Not something she'd ever thought she could do but the world was a different place now than it had been years ago.
The comment gets a half-hearted scoff from her, at least. Better than the alternative.
Doesn’t stop her eyes from glistening at the agreement to do what they can for the other women trapped in the schemes of the Red Room. “We can fix it,” she nods, fingers of one hand lingering on her mother’s wrist at her shoulder. “together…” how they should have been all along.
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She misses Natasha too, and she's proud of her, and she hates herself for not stepping in when she could have. And she's angry that Nat never called her for help. And she's furious that Red Room took everything from her girls and gave them a future that was destined to be filled with complexity and pain. She is so ill prepared to help with that.
Melina hadn't been prepared for hearing 'mom' or 'mommy.' How could she know the surge she would feel in her chest for her girls being hurt or being excited. They were so eager and smart and open to the world that she'd almost forgotten that the whole thing was a charade sometimes. She'd failed her mission because she'd loved her family.
"I know. I miss her too. So much it feels like part of me is gone and what's left just hurts."
no subject
It's weak. It's childish. She hates herself for it and the way it goes against everything she's been taught and raised to be... but she curls into Melina, "It isn't fair," she mumbles against her mother's shoulder; she knows it's stupid to say- nothing has ever been fair in her life- but it's all she can think, "Why couldn't it be someone else?" Anyone else at all. Just not Natasha.
no subject
Oh, there was a question. When did fairness ever enter into things? Had their choosing been fair? It was just random ugliness.
"She ran from the wolf and ran into the bear." It was an old proverb, older than her by far, but just as true. Natasha had tried to leave her past behind her and wound up running into something even more deadly. She became a hero and sacrificed herself to save everyone. Oddly the thought made her smile even in her sadness, she smiled in pride.
"Our Natasha, she couldn't come to holiday dinners or barbecues, but she could travel across the universe and give her life to save so many. It is unfair how badly she makes the rest of us look."
no subject
"Stupid bear," she mumbles as she pulls away slowly, swiping her hands under her eyes to wipe away any evidence of her tears.
That at least gets a laugh out of her, brittle and shaky, but immensely better than crying. "Honestly..."
no subject
And to see Yelena laugh even a little lifted her heart. Melina wiped away the tear trail off Yelena's cheek with the back of her knuckle.
"She has given us a chance to make her proud, we will do this, yes?" She lifted Yelena's chin and gave her a solid look expecting an answer.
no subject
And she had.
And it had been an absolute disaster.
But Yelena wouldn’t trade her family for anything in the world. They were hers, the rest didn’t matter.
She lifts her gaze to meet Melina’s. “You’re going to make me cry more,” she complains, a tiny pout on her lips, but she nods, gives her the answer she was waiting for, “Yes… we- we will. We can track the other Widows down, reverse the subjugation, give them new identity. New lives… it’s what she would want.” She blinks back the tears trying to build again. “You will help me, won’t you, Mama?”
no subject
"No, no crying. It gives wrinkles."
She took her shoulders and gripped them firmly. "I am with you, and we will help our sisters. No one need suffer what the program has put them through ever again."
And she could help with the chemical and mental programming aspects of what had been done, she was in a unique position to undo the damage she'd caused. Not something she'd ever thought she could do but the world was a different place now than it had been years ago.
no subject
Doesn’t stop her eyes from glistening at the agreement to do what they can for the other women trapped in the schemes of the Red Room. “We can fix it,” she nods, fingers of one hand lingering on her mother’s wrist at her shoulder. “together…” how they should have been all along.