black widow movie | dear violette romanoff,

chapter four | tough girls

Natasha steers the plane for the whole trip, quietly sobbing and whispering things to comfort herself for the entirety of the night. Things she wishes Yelena and I hadn't heard, but favoured it over dead silence.

Yelena and I are wrapped up against each other all night as well, her hand intertwined in my own. My mother bleeds the whole night, too.

Three hours later, we're in Cuba. I remember the feeling of landing. I remember feeling the wheels jolt and bump against the runway. I felt Nat's hand on my waist, Yelena's tired arms around my neck. I remember the lack of sleep that I was feeling, and I remember the first thing I said when the plane stopped:

"I'm so hungry."

"I told you not to give up the corn."

The plane door opens, and Dad carries Mom out from the driver's seat. Nat, Yelena, and I run over the ash felt with bare feet and purple under-eye bags. We all hadn't slept. Dad puts Mom down on a stretcher which is being carried by four men dressed in camouflage. The three of us hold her hands and kiss her and hug her for the walk to an army truck.

Yelena cries, "Wake up, Mommy. Pain only makes you stronger, remember?" Her head falls on Mom's stomach.

Nat cries violent tears.

I'm concerned, but don't know what to do. "Natasha, is she dying?" I ask and sit down beside her.

Nat doesn't answer, but I don't need her to. Her sobbing is enough of an answer for me. "Прости меня мама." ("Forgive me, Mom.") Nat licks the tears from her cheeks. "Я боюсь." ("I'm scared.")

"Never let them take your heart." Mom reaches out to caress Nat's face, swollen and enflamed with hot tears, but Nat is knocked back by a man in camouflage.

Natasha grabs my hand, and Yelena stands up. This was the first real, raw death I had ever experienced in my life. I didn't understand it, and it invigorated me.

"It's gonna be okay." Nat walks me around to go and cradle Yelena. She holds both of us under each arm.

The soldiers pick the stretcher up and take Mom away into the army-painted truck.

"Mommy?" Yelena looks up.

Nat holds me still. "Mom?"

"She's not answering, Nat. I'm going to see if she's okay." I climb up onto the end of the vehicle. "Mama? Mommy!" I shout, and there is no response.

"You have to get down. Get down, now."

"We can't leave her. She wouldn't leave us."

Nat shakes her head. "Violette, you're not getting it. We can't, we--"

"Daddy!" Yelena shouts and starts running toward Dad, who is talking with a shorter, grey-haired man. "Daddy! Daddy!"

Shock spreads across Nat's face. "Yelena!"

Someone grabs my waist, and I start screaming.

Yelena continues shouting.

A man grabs at her wrist as well.

"Get away from her!" Nat shouts, suddenly becoming aware of my situation, too. "Get away from her, or I'll blow your head off!" Nat kicks the man's arm and steals the gun from his back pocket. "Я буду стрелять!" ("I will shoot!") She points it at the man who is holding me.

"Положи девушку вниз," ("Put the girl down.") another soldier suggests, and he lets me run free. I can feel the guns pointed at me, but I don't mind as long as Nat is protecting me.

"Don't touch her!" Natasha shouts, waiting for me to get behind her.

I hug her legs, feeling Yelena's body pressed against mine.

"I will kill you all!" Nat shouts. "Я буду стрелять! ("I will shoot!") Don't touch her! Не думайте прикасаться к одному!" ("Don't think about touching one!")

I can see the men watching us, stunned and confused by Natasha's overpowering voice.

"Honey." Dad approaches. He looks confused, too, but pretends not to be. "You're gonna need to hand me that gun."

"I don't wanna go back there," Nat says. She starts crying. "I want to stay in Ohio. You can't take them. You can't take either. You can't. Yelena's six, and Violette's only five, you can't--"

"You were even younger," Dad says, taking the gun from Nat's hand. "It's okay."

"What are you talking about?" I sob, and my hands tighten around Nat's legs. "Please. What are you talking about?"

Dad kneels, puts a hand on my shoulder, and pulls me into his side. "Come here," he says. "You're gonna be all right." He kisses Yelena's head. "You wanna know why it's gonna be all right? Cause my girls are the toughest girls in the world. You're gonna take care of one another, okay?" he says.

He has just a hint of a faded Russian accent, and I enjoy it when he talks to me.

"And everything, everything's gonna be fine."

Then, nothing again. I hate this.