Romanoff

Most Definitely Dead

I've spent my whole life looking for my sister, so think of how you would feel if you just found out the person you have been searching for for 5 years is dead. Yes, dead. I think I should introduce myself though, before starting a pity party. My name is Naomi Romanoff, and yes, I am Natasha Romanoff's sister and yes, I was put through the Red Room torture, and YES, in case you hadn't noticed, Black Widow is most definitely dead. I was 2 weeks late. 2 weeks. When I went to her grave, there was a blonde lady there. I put my flowers down, leaning them on the headstone and she stared at me, then placed her roses next to mine. "Yelena Belova," she said, suddenly. I turned to stare at her, but she kept her eyes down. "Natasha's sister. And you are one of the many adoring fans who come here every day with 'We Miss U Nat!' banners who don't actually know the pain of losing someone." she raised her fists. "I scared them away, I'll scare you away." "Naomi Romanoff." I replied, calmly. "I was looking for my sister for 5 years, and I was 2 weeks late."  She stared at me. "I would say I'm sorry,"  she lowered her fists. "But I'm not." I smiled. Another rogue Widow. Obviously, she hadn't gained any emotion after she escaped. But then, neither had I. "I would say I'm grateful," I raised my eyebrows at her. "But I'm not." She gave a slight smile-not more than a curve of the lips, but a smile nonetheless-and asked, "Red Room?" I'm learning that she doesn't talk much... I nodded. "You're a Widow?" "Yep. You?"  "I escaped a while ago. Helped Nat defeat Dreykov a couple months before she died." I nodded. We stood in silence for a while, then I said, "What was she like?" Yelena sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled through her nose. "She was like fire, you know. She was everything and nothing. She was graceful and flirty and so...gorgeous, so pure. I-I... You should come with me." I frowned. "Come where?" She smirked a little. "I'm going to go kill the person who killed her." she replied, a little smugly. "Clint Barton. Master marksman, protected Avenger and S.H.E.I.L.D agent." "That sounds difficult." I grinned back. "Luckily, I'm always up for a challenge." And so we walked away together, towards Barton and the Avengers, towards justice, towards the reason my sister was so Most Definitely Dead. We never looked back.