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afabtwink · 17 days ago

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HELLO FRIENDS I wrote something for the first time in a WHILE, please feel free to check it out. But please mind the trigger warnings!!

Don't You Dare Forget the Sun

Pairing: Platonic Boblena

Summary: Yelena comforts Bob after a self-harm relapse. Emotional hurt/comfort set after the events of the movie.

Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Affection, Relapse, Soft Bob Reynolds, Soft Yelena Belova, Lots of Hugs

Trigger Warnings: Self-harm, Addiction, Mental Illness, Mentions of Alcoholism

Word Count: 4,342

"Well, I know you lay in bed Contemplating your own death Well, just look at what you've done Don't you dare forget the sun, love~"

Yelena pushed around the pasta on her plate, staring at Bob’s empty chair.

She glanced down at her phone again, her texts with Bob still open. At the bottom, the question she’d posed to him when he hadn’t shown up to dinner.

You okay?

It had been at least fifteen minutes since they’d all sat down together. Bob was never late to dinner. While it wasn’t the first time he hadn’t responded to a text, Yelena was aware he was generally glued to his phone. And the “Read” indicator had been taunting her since shortly after she’d sent the text.

Until she’d finally given in a moment ago, and asked the team if they’d heard anything.

“Maybe he had plans,” John said, shrugging.

“Bob? Have plans??” Ava said, scoffing. “Not likely.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” John said, waving a hand. “Probably just… needed some alone time.”

Yelena swallowed. It was probably nothing. But what if it wasn’t?

“Walker is right,” Alexei said, chuckling a bit. “He is fine. So long as he is not getting all spooky-scary shadow cooped up in there.”

The table went quiet. Alexei seemed surprised by the reaction, his smile fading. Yelena looked up at Bucky, whose eyes had also drifted to Bob’s chair.

The two of them had never actually discussed who the leader of their group was. Yelena had seemed like their leader the day everything went down, which was still etched in everyone’s mind. But Bucky… Well, he was Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. He had more combat experience than all of them combined. But he had never made a move for the title. Instead, the two of them seemed to lead in a clumsy tandem, neither of them jumping to claim the mantle.

Bucky’s gaze traveled to hers. Finally, she found her own concern for Bob reflected in someone else’s face. “Has he missed dinner before?”

She shook her head.

Bucky swallowed. Then with the casual confidence he carried, he cocked his head away from the table.

It was a silent request - Go check on him.

Yelena didn’t need any more prompting. She got up, and rushed down the hall.

When she reached Bob’s door, she knocked hard. Probably harder than was necessary, but some habits died hard. The moment she did, she heard sudden shuffling from inside the room.

Perhaps it was her paranoia from her days as a widow. But it reminded her of the sound of someone rushing to hide something.

“One sec,” She heard Bob’s voice call inside, his voice a bit strained.

To her surprise, hearing him calmed her a bit. He was here, at least. That was something.

“Can I come in?” She asked.

“Just- just a sec.” Yelena folded her arms.

Not a good sign.

She heard something closing, then “Come in.”

Yelena stepped inside. Bob’s room looked just as messy as ever, piles of clothes scattered on the floor. He’d refused to use the cleaner Valentina had hired, swearing he “had a system.” Yelena was pretty sure it was bullshit, and he just didn’t want a stranger in his room. She couldn’t blame him for that.

Bob himself was sitting on the bed, looking expectantly up at her. His cheeks had a bit of a shine to them, like he might’ve been crying.

He gave a weak smile. “Hey.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes. “...You alright?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his voice low. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Yelena said, putting her hands on her hips. “Perhaps the fact that you missed dinner.”

Bob swallowed, his face dropping a bit. Unlike Yelena, he wore his heart on his sleeve. Made him a nightmare in the interviews Valentina had briefly tried to force him into, before quickly pulling him. But it had made caring for her friend much easier for Yelena.

He shrugged. “I was busy.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes. “Oh really? With what?”

His blue eyes met her gaze for a moment, before dipping down to his hands. “Just… busy.”

Yelena gave him a few more moments, in case he might elaborate. But he was silent.

She let out a long breath.

Part of her didn’t want to ask it. She wanted to give him his privacy. She thought of how it had annoyed her when Bucky had asked her about her drinking habits, and checked how she was doing.

Maybe Bob’s vice was none of her business. But she’d seen how he got when things got bad. She couldn’t sit back any more.

Not for Bob, or herself.

“So… you would not mind rolling up your sleeve?”

He stiffened immediately.

Yelena could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of him as he sat frozen. He opened his mouth like he might speak, then rubbed the back of his neck. Yelena only waited as he fidgeted nervously.

When he finally broke the silence, his voice was quiet. “I didn’t.”

Yelena pressed her lips together. “Prove it.”

Bob sat still for a few long moments. He didn’t look up at her, pressing his lips together and tugging at his sleeves.

Then he let out a sigh, and put his face in his hands.

“I didn’t mean to,” He breathed. Yelena’s stomach sank. His voice was heavy. “It, it just happened, I didn’t…” he rubbed his eyes with one hand, shaking his head as he let out a shaky breath.

Yelena walked over to him, until she knelt in front of the bed. Bob flinched back a bit, his shame plain on his face as he refused to meet her eyes.

She breathed, lowering her voice. “I’m not mad at you, Bob.” Gently, she rested a hand on his knee. “You’re not in trouble.”

Bob grimaced, scrunching his face as he pressed his hands on his thighs. His eyes quickly began to water. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I know it’s fucked up. It just… I needed it.”

“It’s okay.” Yelena gave his knee a squeeze. “No one’s mad at you.” He rubbed his eyes, his gaze falling again as a tear rolled down his cheek. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Bob let out a shaky breath. “I, umm…” He swallowed. “I was reading… an article. About what happened.” Yelena’s chest tightened. “An, and there were all these comments. Y’know? People talking about… what they saw. What they went through.” He smirked. “Some of ‘em were saying… what they’d do if they ever got their hands on the guy who caused it.” He let out another breath, his gaze still on the floor. His eyebrows furrowed. “So many people are hurting. And it’s my fault.”

Yelena watched as he wiped his face. Bob had already had such an unfair lot in life, and now to be dealing with this… It was more than most could carry.

And if anyone was familiar with unfair burdens…

“Look at me, Bob,” she said gently.

For a few long moments, he didn’t. Then slowly, hesitantly, his blue eyes met hers.

“It is not your fault.” He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “No. It is not your fault.”

“But I did it,” His voice caught in his throat a bit as more tears fell down his cheeks. He rubbed them with the back of his sleeve, before wrapping his arms around himself.

“That was not you.”

He leaned over, looking across the room as he muttered, “It was part of me.”

“Not the part that matters,” Yelena said forcefully. She squeezed his knee. “You cannot keep beating yourself up for something you could not stop.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I-if I had just… just stayed in control, if I’d-”

“Bob. Don’t do this to yourself,” Yelena said, standing up and sitting beside him on the bed. “It’s over. And you could not have changed it.”

He shook his head, blinking as another tear fell. “So many people,” he sobbed. “I hurt so. Many. People.” He put his face in his hands.

“Shhh,” Yelena put a hand on his back, rubbing a slow gentle circle. “That was not you.” She closed her eyes, her mind wandering back to her own shame rooms as she forced herself to breathe. Like she’d done so many times, she pushed it aside, forcing herself to focus on her mission. “You cannot blame yourself for something you could not stop.”

“I deserve to hurt. I deserve it,” Bob said, his fingers curling into fists pressed against his forehead. “I-I deserve…” He shook with a sob. “It was my fault.” Yelena felt a lump form in her throat as Bob spoke. His pleas were eerily close to the things she had thought in her dark moments. “It was all my fault!”

“No, no,” Yelena said, her voice breaking a bit. “That was not your choice.”

“But if I hadn’t been there-“

“Then you would be dead,” Yelena said plainly. “And nothing is worth that.”

Bob sobbed for a while as Yelena gently stroked his back. Her own guilt was tight in her chest. How much pain had she caused in her own life? How many lives had she ruined?

Nothing is worth that.

Maybe she needed to hear it just as much as Bob did.

He let out another shaky breath as he cried. “…I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know.” Yelena breathed. “That was not you, Bob.”

“A-all those people…”

“I know.”

Bob shook his head. “And I didn’t mean to…” he gestured to his left wrist. “I mean, I tried the breathing stuff, like the doctor taught me. Y’know?” He swallowed, his eyebrows raised as he explained, his words rapid. “But e-everything was just so heavy, and I knew it would all go away once I cut, and then the craving was so loud, so I just…”

“Hey,” Yelena said forcefully. Bob’s blue eyes met hers. “It’s alright. It was a mistake.”

“I’m trying,” He pleaded as he raised his eyebrows, his voice shaking. “I swear, I-I’m trying to be good! But it’s so hard.” Another tear rolled down his cheek. “I… I think about cutting all the time,” he admitted. “It’s exhausting.”

Yelena swallowed. “I know. Better than most.” He looked up at her. “I see how hard you are trying every day, Bob. And I’m proud of you. You’ve been very strong.” His gaze fell, his expression making it clear he didn’t believe her. She tilted her head. “But this is not the way.”

He let out a sob, before wiping his tears with his sleeve. “...I just wanted to make the pain go away.” He pressed his palms to his forehead. “I wish it would all just go away!”

Yelena looked at him for a few long moments.

“Come here.” She opened her arms.

Bob looked up. He hesitated for a moment, looking at her as if expecting her to change her mind. But finally, he scooched closer to her. Yelena put her arms around him, pulling him in close. Bob turned to face her, pressing his face into her shoulder as she put a hand on the back of his head.

“It’s alright,” She breathed. “We all give in to the darkness sometimes.”

Bob took and released a few long breaths. “I don’t want to be like this,” He sobbed.

“I know,” she said, stroking his hair gently. “But it’s alright. We all do things we regret.”

Bob let out a choked sob. “It just hurts,” He shook, his tears audible in his breaking voice as Yelena held him. “It hurts so much!”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Bob stopped speaking then, slowly putting his arms around her and allowing himself to fully break down in her arms. His cries were loud and ugly as he gripped the back of her shirt hard, but she did not shy away from him. She only held him, cupping the back of his head lovingly.

Despite the changes the serum had made to his body, Bob seemed so small suddenly, curled up in his friends’ arms, shaking with sobs. Yelena held him tight. Anything to calm him, to stabilize him.

Every once in a while he would stammer out an inaudible word or two, his face pressed into Yelena’s shoulder. Yelena pressed her cheek against the top of his head, shooshing him gently and closing her eyes.

Her chest was tight with grief at her friends’ pain. And, maybe, at its similarity to her own. Images flashed in her brain despite herself - of Anya, of her slew of other victims, of the widow she’d killed who had only been trying to save her from the Red Room’s control. Of all the nights she’d drank herself to sleep, the nights she’d wished she just wouldn’t wake up.

Despite herself, a tear ran down her cheek.

But all that time, she’d been alone. And the man crying in her arms was a reminder that she wasn’t alone any more. And neither was he.

They sat for a long time, crying together.

When Bob finally quieted, Yelena didn’t let go of him immediately. Instead she stroked his hair back a few more times, determined to comfort him.

When he finally sat up she moved back, releasing him. He rubbed the tears from his face with his sleeve, his skin bright red and shiny.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I know it’s a lot.”

Yelena smiled, wiping her own tears away. “It’s alright. We’re all a lot sometimes.”

For the first time since she’d entered the room, Bob smiled for real. Yelena’s heart grew lighter at sight.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She stood up. “Roll up your sleeve.”

Bob looked surprised. After a moment, his face darkened as Yelena headed to the bathroom. “No, I… You don’t have to do that,” His embarrassment was clear in his voice as she opened the door. “‘M okay. I can do it.”

Yelena did not respond. She returned a moment later, armed with hydrogen peroxide, some paper towel, and band-aids.

Bob looked at her for a moment. “...You sure?”

Yelena nodded.

He sat still for a long time, before hesitantly rolling up the left sleeve of his sweater.

Criss-crossing his pale wrists were five scars, angry and bright red, some of them with smears of blood from the inside of his sleeve.

“Sorry,” Bob said, grimacing with discomfort. “I know it’s ugly.”

Yelena’s voice was calm. “I’ve seen much worse, Bob.”

She took his wrist in her hands gently, grabbing the brown bottle. She tilted it, carefully pouring it onto the wounds one at a time.

Bob took in a sharp breath, his arm twitching a bit, and Yelena looked up at him. “Stings,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle.

She smiled. She cleaned his skin carefully as Bob winced. When she finished, she set the bottle aside.Then she grabbed the paper towel, and carefully dabbed his wounds dry. Finally, she grabbed the band-aids.

“Think I’ll live, doc?” He smiled.

Yelena chuckled. “We will see.”

The room was quiet for a few moments as she went scar by scar, covering the deeper parts of each. The band-aids they had were small, and she made a mental note to get some better ones to replace these with.

When she’d finished, she gently rolled his sleeve back down. Bob wasn’t looking at her.

“...I’ve never shown anyone those,” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. His smile faded. “My mom saw ‘em once. But she just yelled at me for it.”

“She sounds delightful.” Yelena tilted her head. “Do they hurt?”

Bob shrugged. “Yeah. But… not too bad.” He narrowed his eyes. “It just… it feels really good, in the moment. So then… the pain feels worth it.” He met her gaze. “It almost… doesn’t fully register until after.”

His expression was tense as he watched her, as if waiting for a reaction. But there was no judgment in Yelena’s gaze.

She reached out, gently putting a hand over Bob’s.

“You know you can’t keep doing this to yourself, Bob.”

Bob’s mouth opened. Then he swallowed, his eyes narrowing. “No, yeah. I know.” He let out a long breath. “I just…” He smirked bitterly. “It’s hard to stop. Y’know?”

“Do you want to stop?”

Bob’s smile disappeared. He looked at Yelena, searching her eyes for a few moments. “...I don’t know,” he admitted. His gaze lowered as he gave a small shrug. “It keeps me sane.”

“By breaking you down,” Yelena said. She squeezed his hand. “It’s not good for you.”

He gave a small nod. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Yelena released his hand. She gathered the materials up, heading to the bathroom again. “We should move your next appointment up, to start.” She called behind her. “I will call the office for you.”

Bob let out a breath. “Okay.”

Yelena returned to his side, sitting down next to him again.

The two of them sat in the quiet for a few moments. Bob ran a hand over his curls, letting out a breath.

“I didn’t… mean to get like this,” Bob said, his lips turning in a bitter smile. “So… broken.” He tugged at the sleeve covering his scarred wrist. “I don’t want to need it. It’s so fucked up.” His eyes began to well up. “I don’t know why I can’t stop. It just… feels so good.”

“You’re not broken,” Yelena said. She pressed her shoulder up against his. “This life is so hard.” She stared across the room. “Especially for people like us. People who have been through so much shit. Who have lost things.” She lifted her arm a bit, moving it over his and turning it to clasp his hand in hers, her wrist gently touching his, and met his eyes. “But you are not alone any more.”

He smiled. A tear ran down his cheek, and he wiped it away. “It’s all so much, Yelena,” He said. “I get confused. And I hear things, sometimes,” he admitted, another tear running down his cheek. “The ups are so crazy, a-and downs are so heavy.” He pressed his lips together. “I’m just… I’m really tired of all of it.”

“I know,” she said gently. “But we’ll face it together from now on.” She squeezed his hand. “How does that sound?”

Bob smiled, wiping the tears away. “That sounds nice.”

“We will start by talking to your doctor. Are you still taking your meds?”

Bob nodded. “Most days. I forget sometimes, but… mostly.”

“Good,” Yelena said. “It’s also time we took your knife out of here.”

The smile disappeared instantly from Bob’s face. His eyes went round with worry as he looked at her, before he covered it with a forced smile. “Well… I mean, we can work up to that. Right?”

Yelena shook her head. The widow’s gaze was firm, but her voice was soft. “You know we can’t, Bob.”

He sat frozen. His eyes lingered on the ground for a few moments, before he released her hand, and turned to face her. His mouth opened, but it took a moment for the sound to come out. His voice was heavy with desperation as he spoke. “Yelena… Please don’t take it. Not tonight.”

Yelena frowned. “I have to. You know that.”

Bob swallowed. “Maybe… Maybe you can take it in a few days.” He rubbed his upper arm nervously, his voice pleading. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, right??”

Yelena shook her head. “I know you do not feel ready. But it has to happen. You remember when I removed the alcohol from the kitchen?” Bob looked at her. “We have to remove the temptation.”

“You don’t,” Bob pleaded, his eyebrows angling upwards as he pressed his hands on the bed in front of him. “I’ll be good!”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah? You can swear you’ll never relapse again if I leave it here?”

A look of guilt crossed his features. She waited, but he did not answer.

“Exactly.” She reached out, gently grasping his shoulder. “You have an addiction, Bob. And it’s going to get better. But not with that in here.”

Anxiety radiated off of him as he breathed quicker, his eyes darting around as if something in the room would give him a reason that would convince her not to take it.

But eventually his gaze settled. He shook his head. “…I can’t. I need it.”

“You don’t.”

She took her hand off his shoulder, and Bob wrapped his arms around himself. “I appreciate your help, really,” he said earnestly, tilting his head. “I just…” he shook his head. “I’m not ready.”

Yelena’s expression darkened. “You are. We’ll help you.”

“Yelena, please,” he begged, his eyes desperate. “I’ll be good.”

Yelena looked at him for a long time. She recognized his desperation, his addiction. It hurt her to push him.

But she was a Widow. She could push through hurt.

Bob, however, was not, and her force didn’t seem to be working. She held his gaze for a long time.

“What if it was me?” The room got quiet. “What if I was cutting myself?”

Bob flinched visibly. “I don’t…”

“Would you want me to stop?”

Bob didn’t look up at her. But after a moment, he nodded.

“And would you let me keep the knife?”

Bob sat still for a few long seconds. He leaned forwards, putting his face in his hands.

“...What if I can’t live without it?”

“You can,” Yelena said. She took Bob’s good wrist in her hand, gently lowering it from his face until their eyes met. “And I’ll help you. But you have to tell me where it is first.”

Bob stared at her for a long time then, studying her eyes. Eventually his eyes welled up with tears, one running down his cheek. For what felt like an eternity, he just stared at her, unmoving.

Then finally, he tilted his head back, letting out an aggravated sigh.

He tucked his feet up, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“It’s in the nightstand,” he muttered.

Yelena patted his shoulder. “Good boy.” She got up, heading to the nightstand. Bob watched forlornly as she opened the drawer, pawed around to the back until she found where he’d hidden it, and pocketed the knife.

“This the only one?”

He nodded.

She sat back down beside him. “I’m sorry to push.”

“S’okay,” Bob said, rubbing his cheek dry. “It’s just… really hard.”

“I know. Can I give you a hug?”

He nodded. She gathered him up in her arms, and he let out a long breath.

“I’m very proud of you.”

He chucked. “I just cut myself, Yelena.”

“I know. And I’m still proud.”

He sighed. He held her for a few moments. “It’s been so long since I tried to function without it,” he admitted. “I don’t know who I am without it.”

“You’re Bob,” Yelena said, holding him tighter. “You are my friend. You are kind and funny, and also dealing with much more than most people. And you are very important to me.”

He smiled. “That’s nice.” He took in and let out a long breath. “You too.”

They held each other for a few moments as Bob breathed, steadying himself.

Eventually his shoulders untensed, and he seemed to relax. Yelena released him as he rubbed his nose.

His voice was gravelly when he finally spoke. “…You think I’ll ever beat this?”

Yelena tilted her head. “...I don’t know if this is the kind of darkness you beat, Bob. I think this is the kind you learn to live with.” She met his gaze. “But I do think it will get quieter, and you will get stronger.” She smiled. “You will be alright. And I’ll be here to help you.”

Bob gave a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She got up, and held a hand out to him. “Okay. Come on. Let’s find something to take your mind off things.”

Bob raised his eyebrows. “Like what?” The Sentry didn’t need the help, but he put his hand in hers anyway, and let her help him to his feet.

“Whatever you want.” She looked at him. “What do you do to relax?”

He smiled. “I like movies. And ice cream.”

She matched his smile. “Of course you do.” She released his hand and moved it to clasp his shoulder instead. “Let’s get some food in you first. Then we’ll get you some ice cream and a movie.”

“Yesss,” Bob said, pumping his fist.

Yelena smiled.

As they walked, she thought about the tracker app on her phone, slowly climbing with days she’d gone without drinking. She made a mental note to get Bob to download one as they headed through the halls, and Bob rambled about what movies he was considering.

It was heavy. Everything they’d gone through, everything they’d carried with them, and the ugly ways they’d chosen to cope. It was a crushing weight.

But they weren’t alone. Not any more. None of the team was - that was clear when they passed Bucky, and his eyes lingered until Yelena gave a small thumbs up, and he nodded and left them alone. And when John texted Yelena asking if Bob was alright.

They hadn’t been in front of the TV with their late dinners for long before John and Ava joined them. Alexei joined when they took a break to grab ice cream, and even Bucky made his way out eventually - standing in the corner with his hands on his hips, swearing he didn’t want to sit down, no matter how many times he was offered a seat. He wasn’t going to stay, he said. He was just curious about what they were watching.

But eventually he perched on the edge of the couch, grabbing himself a helping of ice cream. When Ava poked fun at his broken resolve, the rest couldn’t help but laugh.

Yelena stole a glance at Bob as they laughed. His smile was bright. She couldn't help but smile herself as she leaned up against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

They weren’t alone any more.

And together, everything felt lighter.

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