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bishovapls · 2 months ago

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Hold On - Part 5: All you gotta do is say please, baby.

Pairing: Yelena Belova & Kate Bishop

Chapter Summary: Kate and Yelena are finally heading back to New York, but not before Clint calls Kate out on the real reason she came to Iowa in the first place. The journey home is slow and weighed down by tough conversations and emotions, but they manage to lean on each other through it. And when Yelena’s surprise is finally revealed, Kate’s way of saying thank you turns the moment into something neither of them will forget.

Warnings: Mentions of a previous suicide attempt, Red Room training/abuse flashbacks and thoughts, hysterectomy, very brief allusions to sexual abuse in the Red Room, and smut (It is pretty soft tbh).

A/N: It has taken me so long to get this chapter out, ahh. I’ve written and rewritten it so many times, I just couldn’t get the flow right, and I still don’t feel like it’s fully there. Originally, this chapter was so much longer, but I had to cut it down, and I don’t think it helped with the flow at all. Also, my girlfriend currently has me acting as Bob the Builder, fixing stuff up around the house ready for her guests that will be here next week, so I really needed to stop obsessing over this. It’s being posted as-is, and I really hope it’s good enough😅.

Also, we all know Google Translate loves to mess things up, so if any of the Russian is off, just pretend you didn’t see it.

Word count: 15k

Part 5 begins below the cut, you can also find the fic on AO3. I also have a masterlist.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Since the rather awkward but well-meaning ‘shovel talk’ with the Bartons, Yelena and Kate had ended up staying at the Barton family farm for an entire week longer than originally planned. What had been intended as a few days of refuge had quietly extended itself into something far gentler, far warmer, than either of them had expected. There was something disarmingly soothing about the rhythm of life on the farm, the quiet hum of daily chores, the wide-open skies, and the simple, grounding presence of people who truly cared. It gave them both a rare chance to breathe, to just exist for a while without the weight of New York pressing down on their shoulders.

But while it had seemed, from the outside, like they were merely resting, Yelena had been anything but idle. Beneath her calm exterior, she had been working tirelessly, almost obsessively, with Sonya and their trusted legal contact to untangle the complicated mess that Kate’s life had become in the wake of her mother’s downfall. Eleanor Bishop’s surrender of her assets had been swifter and more complete than anyone could have anticipated. Every account, every share, every property, Eleanor had signed them all over, as though ridding herself of a burden too heavy to carry. It felt almost too easy, and Kate, naturally, had been suspicious.

More than once, she had shot Yelena a wary glance over her laptop screen, voicing her concern in cautious, half-whispered words. "Lena, are we... sure this is legal?" she had asked, worry creasing her brow. But Yelena, who had seen far murkier corners of the world, had only given her that quietly assured look and a faint smile, saying softly, “Trust me, detka (babe).” And Kate had, because Yelena had become the one person in the world Kate trusted without hesitation, even when it made her stomach twist with nerves.

So now, officially, Kate had it all. More money than she would ever need, full ownership of Bishop Securities, and the penthouse. But while the money and the company had been practical victories, the penthouse remained a heavy weight chained to her chest. Yelena could see it in her eyes every time the topic came up, that tightness in her expression, the way her lips would press together just a little too firmly, like she was swallowing back the memories it dredged up. Memories of her mother, of loneliness, of a life that no longer felt like her own.

What Kate didn’t know, however, was that Yelena had been working quietly, almost obsessively, behind the scenes to fix that as well. She had spent stolen moments on hushed phone calls, slipping away under the guise of errands or casual strolls, laying the groundwork for a surprise that she hoped would soften Kate’s return to the city. She had no intention of letting Kate step back into a place that made her heart ache.

As for the two of them, well, their fledgling relationship had blossomed into something far sweeter, far steadier, than either had dared hope. They were almost inseparable now, moving through the days with a natural, easy closeness that felt like breathing. When Yelena wasn’t off plotting her secret surprise, she and Kate spent nearly every moment together, as if making up for all the time they had lost to danger and uncertainty.

Every night, without fail, they curled up together in bed, their bodies instinctively gravitating toward one another. Yelena, despite her usual bravado, had slipped quite happily into the role of little spoon, tucking herself securely against Kate’s chest, as if Kate alone could keep the world at bay. Kate never once complained. She held Yelena close like she was something fragile and precious, pressing absent-minded kisses to her hair as they drifted off to sleep.

On the two nights that Kate’s nightmares resurfaced, Yelena didn't let her face them alone. She would sit up, bleary-eyed but determined, and throw on a movie until the shadows retreated from Kate’s mind. They’d stay awake together, wrapped in each other’s arms beneath the dim glow of the laptop screen, until exhaustion finally pulled them under.

But it wasn’t just the quiet, intimate moments that wove them closer. Their days had become something out of a dream. They tried everything the countryside could offer, throwing themselves into each moment with reckless abandon. When they weren’t in school, Clint’s kids had roped them into backyard games that became rambunctious affairs since Yelena, competitive to the bone, was determined not to let anyone, not even a child, beat her at capture the flag.

Kate, of course, took this as a challenge, and the two of them ended up diving across the grass, tangled together in breathless laughter as Lucky barked encouragement from the sidelines.

They spent sunny afternoons sprawled out on blankets beneath the wide, open sky, making daisy chains and pretending not to care who could make the longest one, though both of them absolutely did.

There were early mornings too, when Kate would let herself be coaxed out of bed just to watch the sun rise over the fields. She’d grumble the whole way, burying her face in Yelena’s shoulder, but the moment the sky blushed pink and gold, she’d quietly admit it was worth it. Yelena would kiss her temple in reply, smiling into her hair, and Kate’s complaints would fade into contented silence.

Their walks turned into playful races, always ending with them breathless and triumphant, collapsing into the long grass and staring up at the sky as if they had all the time in the world. Clint and Laura watched them from a distance with soft smiles, seeing not just two young women who had survived too much, but two people who, finally, were learning how to live.

It wasn’t perfect. There were still shadows that lingered at the edges, ghosts of fear and memory they hadn’t yet outrun. But, for the first time in what felt like forever, they’d found something that resembled home, a fragile, precious thing that made them believe, even if only quietly, that they could build something lasting. And that was exactly why, eventually, it had to end.

They couldn’t stay with the Bartons forever. They had lives waiting for them, roads that needed to be walked. Kate had a business to mend, a city to reclaim, and Yelena had sisters to free, a mission that still burned bright beneath her ribs. As comforting as it was to stay wrapped in the warmth of family, borrowed as it was, they knew deep down it couldn’t last.

So, over breakfast on a sleepy Sunday morning, Kate finally broke the news. She set down her coffee cup and, with a quiet kind of resolve, told the Bartons they’d be leaving that evening. It felt heavy and right all at once.

Later, as they were packing, Clint appeared in the doorway of what had become Kate’s room, and now, unmistakably, Yelena’s too. He lingered for a second, awkward, almost like he didn’t know where to place himself. His fingers tapped against the doorframe before he spoke, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Kate,” he began, clearing his throat, eyes flicking between her and Yelena. “Could we, uh… could we talk? You know… privately? Before you go?”

Kate blinked, caught off guard. A flicker of worry pinched at her brow. Why couldn’t Yelena hear this too? What did he need to say that wasn’t for both of us? But still, she nodded, a tight little motion, and set down the jumper she’d been folding. With a glance at Yelena, she followed Clint out of the room, her heart thudding a little faster than before.

They had made their way to the dining table, and Clint had wordlessly set a cup of coffee in front of Kate. They sat across from one another, the space between them somehow vast and suffocating all at once. The silence felt brittle, stretched too thin, and Clint’s discomfort was obvious in the way his gaze darted to the window, to the table, to anything but her. He seemed to struggle with where to begin, the words knotting in his throat.

“Clint… what is it?” Kate’s voice cracked as she tried to make it sound lighter, a nervous little chuckle slipping through her lips, though it did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest. “You’re scaring me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, his brows pulling together as he exhaled a long, shaky breath. When he looked back at her, there was something fragile in his expression, something that made her stomach twist.

“I know you’re probably not going to want to hear this,” he began, his voice rough and uneven, tripping over the weight of his own words. “But I need you to understand… I wouldn’t bring it up if I weren’t worried. I am worried. I just…I need to be sure you’re going to be okay.”

The moment the words left him, her heart lurched to her throat. Her breath caught, brittle and sharp, and her hands instinctively curled around the warm mug in front of her, as if it could somehow ground her.

“Laura told you,” she whispered, her voice barely there, a hollow breath against the growing storm inside her chest. It wasn’t a question, it didn’t need to be. She felt her pulse thunder in her ears, anxiety clawing its way up like a rising tide.

Clint gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. His eyes were glassy, rimmed red as he swallowed against the swell of emotion. “She did,” he admitted, his voice tight. “She was worried, Kate. You’re going back there, and last time, you just…” He faltered, his breath catching as he tried to gather the words that had been gnawing at him. “You cut us off. Completely. And I thought—” his voice broke, and he pressed his lips together for a beat, forcing the lump in his throat down. “I thought we made it clear you mattered to us. I thought you knew how much you mattered. I’m so sorry, Kate. We should’ve made it clear.”

Kate’s eyes stung with unshed tears as she shook her head, her chest aching. She could see him fighting against the tears clouding his vision, see the cracks in his usually steady composure.

“Clint,” she breathed, her voice trembling, “stop. Please. Don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She swallowed hard, her throat raw. “I knew you cared. I always did. It’s just… God, Clint, it wasn’t about that. No matter what you or Laura said, or did, or tried… it felt like time. I didn’t see any other way. I didn’t plan to stay, no matter what.”

Her confession hung heavy in the air between them, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, a single tear slipped free down Clint’s cheek, his breath shuddering as he blinked hard, like he could will the rest away.

“We could’ve lost you, Kate,” he rasped, his voice thick with grief and fear that hadn’t eased with time. His fingers curled into fists on the table. “We could’ve lost you and I—” He stopped himself, shook his head as if the thought alone was too much to bear. “I don’t want you to go back to New York,” he said hoarsely. “We don’t want you to go. You’re safe here. You’re safe with us.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and Kate’s lips parted, but the words tangled in her throat, caught between the crushing guilt and the fragile tenderness of what Clint was saying.

Her eyes burned, and she blinked fast, but it did nothing to stop the tears that blurred her vision. She hated this feeling, this raw exposure, this vulnerability that made her feel like her chest had been split wide open, but more than that, she hated how right he was. How much it hurt to hear the truth spoken out loud.

“I know,” she rasped, her voice unsteady as she pushed the words free. “I know you don’t want me to go. And maybe part of me doesn’t want to either.” Her hands tightened around the mug, knuckles pale. “But I can’t hide here forever, Clint. I can’t stay safe in this house and pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, forcing back the sob that clawed at her chest. “I have to face it. I have to try, even if it’s terrifying. Even if I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

Clint’s eyes searched hers, as if he could somehow shoulder the weight of her fears if he just looked hard enough. “You are strong enough,” he said, his voice rough but certain. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Katie. You never have to do it alone again.”

Her heart clenched painfully at the nickname, at the way he said it like she was still that same stubborn, reckless girl who followed him into danger without thinking. She let out a shaky breath, and a tear slipped free, trailing down her cheek. “I’m not alone,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Not anymore.”

As if summoned by her words, there was a soft sound behind them, a light, almost hesitant knock against the doorframe. Kate turned her head, blinking through her tears to see Yelena standing there. She looked out of place in the doorway, her usual sharp confidence softened by something gentler, more uncertain. Her gaze flicked between them, lingering on Kate’s tear-streaked face, her brows knitting with quiet concern.

“Am I interrupting?” Yelena asked, though her voice was quiet, and it was obvious she already knew the answer. “I just…I had a feeling and wanted to check...”

Kate’s chest tightened at the sight of her, at the warmth and the worry in her eyes. She shook her head, her breath catching in her throat. “No,” she managed, her voice breaking. “No, you’re not.”

Clint followed her gaze, and something in his expression shifted, a realisation, a kind of fragile relief. He cleared his throat and wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand, trying to pull himself together. “Never,” he said hoarsely. “Because I think you’re part of this too.”

Yelena stepped further into the room, her eyes never leaving Kate. Without needing to be asked, she came to her side, her presence grounding and steady. She didn’t say anything right away, just placed a gentle hand on Kate’s shoulder, her thumb brushing in quiet circles against her skin. It was such a small gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth through Kate’s chest, steadying the storm just a little.

Kate exhaled shakily, leaning into the touch. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I’m so scared.”

Yelena’s brows softened, and she crouched slightly so she could meet Kate’s eyes, her hand never leaving her shoulder. “I know,” she said simply. “But you do not have to be scared alone.”

There was no hesitation in her words, no uncertainty. Just quiet, unwavering resolve. And somehow, it was exactly what Kate needed to hear.

Clint watched them for a moment longer, his own heart aching, but there was a glimmer of comfort in his gaze now. He could see it, the way Kate’s breathing had steadied, the way her shoulders had relaxed beneath Yelena’s touch. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

“You’ve got people in your corner, Katie,” Clint said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You always will.”

Kate breathed out slowly, she felt herself slowly, gently, start to unravel, not in the way she used to, not like she was falling apart, but like she was letting the walls down at last, brick by careful brick. Her eyes, still glassy with tears, drifted from Yelena’s steady, grounding presence back to Clint, whose expression had softened into something achingly familiar. Protective. Warm. Family.

Without thinking, she reached across the table and took his hand. Clint’s eyes flickered in surprise, but his fingers curled around hers almost immediately, rough and calloused but comforting all the same.

For a moment, they just sat there like that. No one spoke. No one needed to. The sunlight filtered in weakly through the window, catching on the glisten of Kate’s tears, on the rough edges of Clint’s worry, and the silent protectiveness in Yelena’s gaze.

Clint was the first to break the quiet, “You promise you’ll call?” he asked, and despite himself, his voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Kate gave a soft, trembling laugh through her own tears. “I promise,” she said. Then she tilted her head towards Yelena with a teasing edge that didn’t quite hide the affection beneath it. “Actually, you’ll probably be begging me to stop calling. We’re gonna annoy you so much.”

Yelena, catching on immediately, flashed the smallest, mischievous smile. “I will make sure she calls every day,” she said, deadpan. “Maybe two times. Possibly three. Don’t worry, Barton, I will make sure you are stuck with her. ”

Kate let out a wet laugh, her chest tightening with something warm and golden, and Clint chuckled low in his throat, shaking his head like he already knew they weren’t joking. “I’ll take it,” he said, voice thick with emotion, a tearful smile breaking through. “As long as it means she doesn’t disappear on me again.”

“I won’t let her,” Yelena said quickly, her tone still light but threaded with quiet certainty. “I mean, I know where she lives. She has no chance of disappearing, not on my watch. I��ll keep an eye on her, like a… hawk.” Her smirk lingered, the joke deliberate with two Hawkeyes right there, but beneath the mischief was something steadier, an unspoken promise, offered straight to Clint. She would be there. Kate wouldn’t be alone again. Not if Yelena had anything to say about it.

Kate rolled her eyes at the truly terrible joke, but Clint didn’t flinch. He saw it for what it was and nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He trusted Yelena, trusted her word, regardless of her past or the fact that she was a Widow trained to deceive. None of that mattered. What mattered was the way she looked at Kate, the way she spoke with quiet conviction. Clint knew, deep down, that Yelena cared. Really cared. And she wouldn’t let Kate slip away without a fight.

They stayed like that for a little while longer, but eventually, Laura drifted into the room too, sensing the quiet aftermath of emotion, and she said nothing at first. She simply crossed to Clint’s side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, her gaze soft and full of understanding as she took in the scene.

Yelena was the one who broke the moment, lifting her hand to gently nudge Kate’s cheek with her knuckles, wiping away the last of her tears. “Come,” she said softly. “We still have packing to do.”

Kate swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She rose from her chair, giving Clint’s hand one final squeeze before letting go, and Clint caught her in a rough, protective hug that she gladly melted into. He held her tightly for a moment, and when they pulled apart, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’ll always have a place here,” he said, his voice thick. “Always.”

Kate didn’t trust her voice to work, so she just nodded, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Yelena, standing close at her side, brushed her fingers along Kate’s arm before lacing their hands together as they stepped away from the table.

-----

As they moved to finish packing, there was a softness in the air between them, a quiet understanding that no matter how heavy this moment felt, they were not carrying it alone. Yelena kept close to Kate’s side as they gathered her things, not in the way of someone hovering, but as though she were quietly anchoring Kate, offering her steadiness without words, her presence a silent promise: You’re not alone in this.

Downstairs, the Barton kids were waiting, lingering in the living room like they didn’t quite know what to do with themselves. Lila was twisting a hair tie around her fingers, her eyes red-rimmed though she tried to mask it with a brave, lopsided smile. Cooper stood awkwardly near the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, while Nathaniel clung to his mother’s hand, his gaze solemn.

Kate’s chest ached at the sight of them. She swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat and managed a small smile as she stepped forward, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Hey, guys,” she said softly, her voice catching just a little.

“You sure you have to go?” Lila asked, her voice wobbly but determined. She tried to play it off with a lightness that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I mean, we were finally getting you trained for family game night.”

Kate let out a breathy laugh, even as her vision blurred with tears. She set her bag down for a moment and crossed to Lila, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered, her voice raw with honesty.

Lila clung back fiercely, like she never wanted to let go. “I already miss you,” she whispered back.

When they parted, Cooper was already stepping forward, his usual cool composure cracked at the edges. He didn’t say anything at first, just pulled Kate into a quick, awkward hug that lingered longer than expected. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he said, pulling back just enough to look at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I won’t,” Kate promised, her throat tight.

Nathaniel, still holding Laura’s hand, looked up at her with wide, earnest eyes. “Will you come back for Christmas?” he asked, his voice so small, so hopeful, it nearly broke her heart.

Kate crouched down to his level, brushing a hand through his hair gently. “Of course,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Then, to her surprise, Nathaniel turned shyly toward Yelena, his gaze flicking between her and his mother as though unsure if it was okay. Laura gave him a gentle nudge, and he stepped forward. Without a word, he wrapped his little arms around Yelena in a spontaneous, childlike hug.

Yelena froze, blinking down at him as though she couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Her arms hovered in the air, stiff and unsure, before she awkwardly lowered them and rested her hands on his back, her touch gentle but uncertain. She glanced at Kate, a flicker of bewilderment in her eyes, but Kate just offered her a small, encouraging smile.

When Nathaniel let go, Lila stepped up next. “You’re family now, too, you know,” she said, her voice wobbling with emotion. Without waiting for a response, she threw her arms around Yelena’s waist, squeezing tightly.

This time, Yelena’s arms came up a little more naturally, hesitantly at first, then with growing warmth as she let herself return the hug properly. Something unfamiliar bloomed in her chest, sharp, aching, but not unpleasant. She didn’t know what to say, but Lila didn’t seem to need words.

Even Cooper, awkward and a bit shy, gave her a quick, one-armed hug before stepping back, clearing his throat like he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle his own emotions.

Yelena, blinking in astonishment, could only nod, her throat tight with things she didn’t know how to express.

Laura stepped forward then, her gaze soft but steady, and for a moment, Yelena thought she might simply offer a nod of farewell. But instead, Laura’s arms wrapped around her in a warm, full embrace, with no hesitation at all.

And Yelena… melted. Her breath caught in her chest as she felt something inside her crack wide open, something old and defensive and brittle. She sank into the hug without thinking, her hands clutching the back of Laura’s sweater, her eyes fluttering shut as she allowed herself, just for a heartbeat, to be held, to feel it. No tactics, no calculation. Just warmth.

Laura’s voice was quiet in her ear. “You take care of her,” she murmured, full of quiet strength. “And yourself, okay?”

Yelena’s reply was immediate, fierce and true. “I will,” she said, her voice rough.

Laura stepped towards Kate next, her gaze soft but steady as she pulled Kate into a firm hug. She didn’t say anything at first, just held her tight, as though that could say everything she needed. When she finally spoke, her voice was warm and low in Kate’s ear. “You’re always welcome here. Any time, for any reason.”

“I know,” Kate whispered, blinking back fresh tears. “Thank you… for everything.”

With the goodbyes nearly said, Kate and Yelena turned to Clint one last time. He stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to hold himself together. His eyes were red but proud, a complicated mix of emotions etched across his face.

Kate crossed to him, and without a word, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. It wasn’t a quick hug, or one of obligation, it was long, full of everything they couldn’t quite say aloud. Gratitude. Fear. Love. Hope.

When they finally drew apart, Clint’s hands stayed steady on her shoulders, grounding her. His eyes were misted but unwavering, the kind of look that made promises without needing to be loud about it.

“Remember what I said,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “There’s nowhere too far, no hour too late. You need us, Kate, you call. You will call. Don’t shut us out again.”

Her throat tightened, but she nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “I will,” she said, and she meant it with every bruised, mending piece of her.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Clint turned toward Yelena, his expression softening. For a beat, she thought he might offer only a nod or a handshake, something safe, something she expected.

But instead, Clint stepped forward and pulled her into a firm, rough-edged hug. Yelena’s eyes widened in surprise, her body stiffening instinctively, not knowing how to respond. But as Clint held her, solid and sure, something within her eased, and she found herself returning the embrace, albeit a little awkwardly.

“You’re stuck with us now,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with feeling. “Whether you like it or not.”

Yelena huffed a quiet, unsteady breath that might have been a laugh, blinking fast against a sudden sting behind her eyes. “I like it,” she admitted, so quietly she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud.

Finally, with her bag slung back over her shoulder and Yelena and Lucky at her side, Kate made her way to the door. She paused on the threshold, her eyes sweeping over the familiar walls, the family that had become her own, the place that had caught her when she was at her lowest. She felt Yelena’s hand slip into hers, grounding her, and she tightened her grip like it was a lifeline.

With one last lingering look, Kate stepped outside. The air was cool and fresh, carrying with it the promise of something new. Yelena followed close beside her, their hands still entwined, with Lucky trotting beside them as they walked toward the car waiting at the edge of the drive.

-----

The car ride was quiet at first. Not tense, just still, like the whole world had exhaled and now sat in that long, lingering breath before anything else could be said. The hum of the engine was the only sound for a while, and even that felt hushed beneath the weight of everything they’d just left behind.

Kate sat slouched in the passenger seat, her forehead resting near the window. She wasn’t watching the scenery so much as letting it blur past, grey trees and fading light bleeding together as if the world outside were holding its breath too. Her fingers worked absently at the zipper of her coat, tugging it up and down in small, repetitive motions. Her eyes were distant, not quite teary, but heavy with the kind of sadness that sat deep in the chest, the kind that didn’t need an excuse anymore.

Yelena didn’t speak. She kept her eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, but her attention was split, always aware of the woman beside her. She didn’t know what Kate needed yet: space, comfort, or distraction? Yelena had never been good at guessing with emotions, so instead she just tried to be steady, solid. Present.

But her mind wasn’t quiet. The warmth of the Barton household still clung to her like something she didn’t know how to wear, too soft, too kind, like slipping into borrowed clothes. It had all left a strange, aching feeling in her chest. Not bad. Just unfamiliar.

Every so often, Yelena flicked her gaze sideways, sneaking glances at Kate when she thought she wouldn’t notice. She watched the way Kate’s shoulders curled in on themselves, how her forehead leaned just a little toward the glass, like she needed the coolness against her skin to keep from fraying at the edges.

“You okay?” Yelena asked at last, her voice low and softer than usual, careful not to disturb the fragile peace between them.

Kate didn’t look at her. She blinked slowly, lashes thick and heavy. Her voice came a moment later, quiet and thin around the edges. “I think so. Just…” Her shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “It hurts. Saying goodbye to something that felt like home.”

Yelena nodded slowly, her jaw tightening. “It is home,” she said, simply.

Kate exhaled a soft chuckle, the kind that wasn’t really a laugh, just the sound of something caught in her throat. “Not anymore,” she murmured, her voice fragile, barely audible. “I guess, I knew it couldn’t last, but I let myself pretend it could.”

Yelena’s throat tightened at the words, the weight of them settling over her like a familiar ache. She understood how it was easier to hold on to something, even if you knew it was slipping through your fingers. The pretending was comforting. The hope, however fragile, was easier than facing the emptiness. She wanted to say it out loud, but the words felt foreign, trapped somewhere between Russian and English, like they couldn’t fully exist in either language.

Instead, Yelena reached across the centre console, her movements slow, deliberate. Her fingers brushed against Kate’s lightly, just a touch, an unspoken question, a quiet offer. When Kate didn’t pull away, Yelena’s fingers curled into hers, tentative but warm, like the simple act of holding on to something could bridge the space between them.

Their fingers fit together as if they had done it a thousand times, a natural closeness that spoke louder than words ever could. Kate turned toward her then, just a little, her eyes searching Yelena’s face, as if bracing herself for a truth she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear.

Yelena kept her gaze ahead, focusing on the road, but her voice, when it came, was calm, like she was setting something delicate and important between them, something fragile, but real. “For so long, home to me was just… a place,” she said, her voice quiet, the words wrapped in layers of thought. “Walls, furniture, somewhere to sleep. You know? But... that’s not home. Home is the people. It’s the feeling. The safety. The knowing you’re protected, you’re not alone.”

Kate didn’t say anything, but her posture shifted slightly, her shoulders relaxing a fraction, as if the words were reaching her slowly, like the warmth of sunlight breaking through clouds. Yelena’s words, though soft, held weight; they were not just comforting, but profound, the kind of wisdom earned from loss and quiet reflection.

Yelena breathed in again, her gaze still fixed ahead. “And trust me, Kate… I was young, but I remember how it felt to lose everything. To lose Ohio, to lose home. It’s not something you forget. So I know how you’re feeling. I know how your mind is loud with the dark thoughts, that they’re telling you that you have nothing left again.”

Kate blinked hard, her lips pressing together, the rawness of the words hitting deeper than she expected. She wanted to respond, to say something, but the knot in her throat tightened.

Yelena’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, not in a hurry, just a steady, grounding presence. “But that’s not true,” she said, her tone firming, but still gentle, as if she was holding Kate’s heart in her hands and didn’t want to break it. “You still have a home, Kate. You still have Clint. And the Bartons. They are your home. Even if they’re not with you right now. They’re still there. They’re a part of you, and that doesn’t change because you’re not in the same place.”

Kate’s gaze flicked to Yelena, and for the first time since they’d left, she found herself meeting her eyes, searching, trying to find the truth there. Her breath caught in her chest, a slight tremor in her fingers as she held Yelena’s hand.

“You just have to let them stay,” Yelena said gently, her voice laced with something ancient and quiet and steady, not just comfort, but the kind of truth you only speak after surviving its opposite. “Don’t shut them out, Kate. Don’t let the physical location convince you that you’ve lost your home. You still have a home. That part of your life is still yours. They are still yours.”

Kate didn’t respond right away. Her gaze dropped to their hands, still lightly joined, resting between them, their fingers twined so naturally it felt like they’d never learned how to be apart. There was something sacred in the simplicity of it. The warmth of Yelena’s skin, the stillness between them, the way their hands just… fit. And yet, her voice, when it came, was small and hesitant, barely above a breath. “You… you’re saying them,” she said softly. “You’re still mine, right?”

Yelena let out a quiet laugh, more of a gentle exhale through her nose, not mocking, more like she was amused by how unnecessary the question felt to her. “I think I’ve made that very clear, no?” she said, giving Kate’s hand a tender squeeze. “I’m yours. Even in New York. I will be there. Maybe not in the same way… maybe in a slightly different capacity, but still there.”

That last part made Kate’s stomach turn, something unpleasant curling in her chest. She shifted to face her more fully, brows drawing together. “Different capacity?” she repeated, her voice laced with a sudden unease. A thread of panic began to wind its way through her ribs. “But… you said you didn’t have to take contracts. You said you could stay. We worked it all out! You said you’d stay, Yelena. You promised.” Her voice cracked as it rose, urgency bleeding through. “You said you wouldn’t leave.”

Yelena glanced at her quickly, guilt flickering across her face before she looked back at the road. “Hey, hey, malyshka (baby)…shhh. I’m not leaving, okay?” she said carefully, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll be in New York. I just meant things will be different now. We won’t be living together anymore, not like at the Bartons.”

Kate froze, breath catching. “Wait… what?” she said, blinking hard. “Why wouldn’t we live together?”

Yelena looked at her, startled by the question, genuinely confused. “Because…” she said slowly, choosing her words with care, “that’s not the custom, is it? People don’t usually live together unless they are family, or married, or something more formal. I just assumed you would want to wait.” She gave a small, helpless shrug. “I was trying to respect that.”

And it hit Kate then, sharp and sudden, a wave of aching clarity crashing over her. Yelena wasn’t pulling away because she wanted distance. She wasn’t looking for an exit. She just didn’t understand that she already belonged there, that Kate didn’t need her to wait, didn’t want her to step back out of politeness or cultural confusion. Yelena was just trying to honour boundaries she didn’t realise didn’t exist.

Kate let out a breath, half sob, half laugh, thick with feeling. “Yelena,” she said, her voice trembling under the weight of something she couldn’t hold back anymore, “it’s not customary to fall in love with the person who tried to kill your mentor either… but I did.”

She hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t even known it was coming. But the moment it left her mouth, something irreversible shifted in the air around them.

Yelena went still. Every muscle in her body locked up, her spine snapping straight like a string had been yanked. Her hand, still resting loosely in Kate’s, twitched violently then recoiled. Not with force. Not with intent. Just instinct. Sharp, sudden, automatic. Her body reacting before her mind could catch up.

And Kate felt it. The loss of that touch, that small, steady tether, was like ice water rushing over her skin.

Yelena didn’t speak. Didn’t look at her. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, wide and unfocused, her breath starting to come faster in shallow little pulls. Her shoulders curved inwards slightly, her posture folding in on itself like she was trying to become smaller or bracing for something invisible, something inevitable.

Because in her head, something had already struck. The Red Room wasn’t just a memory, it was a sensation. It was present. It was there in the cold that settled along her spine, in the tightening of her jaw, in the way her heart screamed danger at the idea of being loved. Love had never been something she was allowed to keep. From the moment they’d taken her, she’d been taught that love was weakness. That it would cost her everything.

She remembered the beatings, girls forced to kneel while their bodies were broken for even looking too long at someone with softness in their eyes. She remembered the punishments for loyalty, for comfort, for friendship. And worst of all, she remembered Natasha. The one person she had ever let herself love, and the way it had ended. In death. In unbearable, unfixable loss.

The problem was, Yelena knew she was in love, not in theory, not as some distant concept, but in the quiet, intimate moments that made up life with Kate. She felt it every time Kate touched her without hesitation, every time she laughed mid-argument or dozed off with her head on Yelena’s shoulder like she trusted her with everything. She knew. But she refused to name it. She’d dressed it up as care, loyalty, fondness, softer words, safer ones. Even when Laura had called it what it was, gently and without judgment, Yelena had sidestepped it. Because naming it made it real. Naming it made it dangerous.

Yelena had promised herself she wouldn’t make the same mistake as Natasha. That was why she’d allowed this, allowed herself to have Kate, allowed herself to have them. She’d chosen not to run. She understood now that survival didn’t mean cutting herself off from feeling.

But understanding wasn’t the same as saying it. Actually putting a name to the feeling, and acknowledging it out loud was something else entirely. That word still lit up all the old wires in her brain, still made her skin feel too tight, her chest pound and her body ache.

But now Kate had said it, and that meant she was loved. It meant it was real. It meant she had something to lose. And no matter how much she wanted it, how much she already had it, the moment the word was spoken, something in her buckled. Because once it was named, it couldn’t be stuffed back into a box.

She didn’t even notice her hand rising to her neck, didn’t register her fingers digging into the pressure points, not hard enough to bruise, but tight. Pressing. Containing. Controlling. Squeezing like she could choke the emotion down, shove it back into the depths where it couldn’t hurt her.

Until she felt Kate’s hand.

Kate had reached out, her fingers curling lightly over Yelena’s, gently pulling her hand away from her neck. No pressure. No force. Just touch. Just presence.

“I’m not asking you to say it,” Kate whispered. “I never even meant to… but I’m not going to take it back, Yelena. And I get it, this is new. Just… take your time.”

Yelena’s eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, she looked lost, undone in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. Her breathing was uneven, eyes glassy and wide, lips parted but unable to form words.

When she finally spoke, her voice was low and hoarse and broken at the edges. “I feel it too,” she whispered, avoiding the words she was still too afraid to say.

Kate smiled, a smile so full of quiet understanding. “I know,” she said simply, like that was enough. “It’s okay.”

And somehow, that warmth in Kate’s gaze anchored Yelena, not like a rescue, not like a cure, but like a rope tied around her waist in the middle of a raging storm. Just enough to keep her tethered. Just enough to remind her she wasn’t lost.

The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but delicate. Yelena had turned the music on low, some indie playlist Kate had made, and was humming faintly along now, her body just a touch looser, her jaw no longer clenched. It looked almost like peace.

But Kate couldn't sit still, a question burned a hole behind her teeth. She tried not to speak. Tried to let it pass like she always did. Eventually, she couldn’t hold it back.

“Lena?” she asked softly, cautiously, after a few minutes.

Yelena flicked her gaze over, eyebrow arched in quiet acknowledgement. “Hmm?”

Kate took a steadying breath, her voice careful. “I wanted to ask you something. I’ve seen it a few times now, and I know I probably shouldn’t… I mean, I get that it’s not my place, maybe it’s just a thing you do and I’m overthinking…I just… if it’s important, I don’t want to keep ignoring it. And you don’t always like talking about things, which is okay, but—”

“Kate,” Yelena interrupted, gently but firmly, “you are rambling. What is it, Little Hawk?”

Kate pressed her lips together, cheeks flushed with tension, and then finally just blurted it out. “Why do you do that thing with your neck?”

The words hung there, naked and vulnerable in the quiet cabin of the car. She forced herself to stay silent after that, to not ramble, to give Yelena space to respond without pressure.

Yelena didn’t answer right away. She inhaled sharply, and for a second it looked like she might speak, her lips parted, her brow tight with thought, but then her phone rang through the car as it was connected, the screen lighting up with an unlisted number. No name. No text. But she knew.

Yelena didn’t hesitate. She reached for the screen on the dashboard, pressing the answer button with a swift motion. Kate noticed the subtle shift in Yelena’s posture, the faintest adjustment, like a wall going up.

Yelena greeted the caller in Russian, her voice smooth and composed. “Privet (Hello),” she said, the word feeling like a barrier between them. Kate’s brow furrowed as she listened, already aware that Yelena was using Russian to keep the conversation private. It wasn’t a new tactic; Yelena had done this before, especially when she couldn't leave the room to speak to whoever it was. It wasn’t malicious, just... practical.

From the speaker, a voice crackled, speaking quickly in Russian. “Vse gotovo. YA zapolnil kholodil'nik i shkafy. Vash Malen'kiy Yastreb budet khorosho podgotovlen na nekotoroye vremya (Everything is ready. I’ve stocked the fridge and cupboards. Your Little Hawk will be well prepared for a while).”

Yelena’s posture softened just slightly at the words, and Kate couldn’t help but watch her closely. She didn’t understand the words, but she could see the change in Yelena’s expression, a relaxation of her features, a small smile that crept onto her lips. It was a look Kate wasn’t used to seeing from Yelena towards someone else. It was... warm.

“Spasibo, sestra. YA tvoy dolzhnik (Thank you, sister. I owe you),” Yelena replied, her voice light, tinged with affection.

Kate knew sestra meant sister. She’d heard it before when Yelena spoke about Natasha or the other widows. There was something deeply human in the way Yelena referred to them as her sisters. It was a bond Kate didn’t fully understand, but she could feel its significance.

The warmth in Yelena’s voice, however, made Kate feel... left out. She hated the feeling, but there was no denying it. She wanted to know what they were talking about, to share in this private moment, but there was no way to break through the language barrier. Not without understanding Russian, which she didn’t.

The voice from the speaker came again, faster this time. “Ty mne nichego ne dolzhen, eto ya tvoy dolzhnik (You do not owe me anything, I am in your debt).”

Yelena rolled her eyes, a playful sigh escaping her as she responded, “Zatknis'. Ty zhe znayesh', chto eto ne tak (Shut up, you know that’s not true).”

Kate smiled at the teasing tone in Yelena’s voice, but it only made her more curious. Who was this person? And why did Yelena sound so relaxed, so at ease with them? Kate could feel a knot twisting in her chest, that familiar pang of being left out, of not knowing.

It was clear that this person was someone important to Yelena, someone she was close to. Maybe it was Sonya? Yelena had mentioned Sonya in passing before, especially when talking about her business and mother. But Kate had never heard Sonya’s voice. She couldn’t be sure.

“Nu i ladno, kogda ya smogu uvidet' Malen'kogo Yastreba (Whatever, when can I meet the Little Hawk?)”

Kate noticed Yelena stiffen at the question, her posture tightening, becoming just a little more guarded. There was something about the way she reacted that made Kate wonder what had been said.

Yelena’s fingers tapped on the steering wheel as she responded, sighing lightly. “YA zavtra zayedu v konspirativnuyu kvartiru, mne nuzhny moi veshchi. Mozhet, ya yeye privezu (I’ll stop by the safe house tomorrow, I need my things. Maybe I’ll bring her).”

Kate tilted her head, trying to piece the conversation together. The words felt like an unsolved puzzle. She could sense the tension in Yelena’s voice, the slight tightness in her shoulders as she spoke. Kate’s concern deepened, though she had no idea what was really going on.

“YA znala, chto ty srazu zhe dvinesh'sya! Chto sluchilos' s ozhidaniyem (I knew you’d move in right away! What happened to waiting?)” The voice on the other end laughed, warm and teasing, and Kate could feel the lightheartedness of the moment, even though she didn’t understand the words. It was clear the person knew Yelena well.

Yelena’s voice softened once again, a faint smile tugging at her lips, but there was something deeper behind it. A sense of resignation, like she was admitting to something she hadn’t planned to. “Ona khotela, chtoby ya ostalsya (She wanted me to stay).”

Kate’s heart skipped at the sudden vulnerability in Yelena’s voice, something that felt rare, especially from someone as guarded as her. She wanted to ask, to check in, something…but before she could, the voice from the speaker came back, more genuine now, though still with a teasing edge. “YA rada za tebya, sestra. Ty etogo zasluzhivayesh' (I’m happy for you, sister. You deserve it).

Yelena’s fingers relaxed on the wheel, her whole body seeming to loosen. The conversation had gone on long enough now that it was beginning to blur together in Kate’s mind, a constant stream of words she couldn’t follow. But there was something comforting about it, the rhythm of Yelena’s voice, even if Kate didn’t understand everything. In that moment, Kate didn’t need to understand. She just needed to be here, next to Yelena, in this quiet, private space.

After a while, Kate’s eyelids grew heavy. She couldn’t keep her focus, the soothing sound of Yelena’s voice and the murmur of the conversation becoming a lullaby of sorts. She curled into her seat, closing her eyes for just a moment, her question from earlier momentarily forgotten. The words faded into the background, and before she knew it, Kate had fallen asleep, comforted by Yelena’s presence even if she couldn’t understand a single thing being said.

-----

They drove through the night and the next day, the road stretching on as Yelena stubbornly refused to let Kate take the wheel, again. Instead, she handed her a snack, gave her knee a reassuring pat, and said with a grin, “Relax, Kate Bishop. I’ve got this.” And she did, all the way. Between eating, blasting music, and teasing Yelena just to see her reaction, Kate let herself drift into short naps to make the journey feel faster. The deep conversations were put on hold for the rest of the journey, but Kate had promised herself she’d ask about the woman, about the strange way Yelena had squeezed her neck, but she’d wait until they were settled.

While Kate slept, Yelena remained ever watchful, her eyes scanning the road with focus. Every now and then, her gaze would flicker over to Kate, her sleeping form a serene image, head resting against the window, lips slightly parted, so peaceful it made Yelena’s chest tighten with something soft and unspoken, a moment she wished she could capture and hold onto forever.

As they finally pulled into the familiar car park by Kate’s old building, Yelena reached over and gave Kate’s hand a gentle squeeze, her touch both comforting and intimate.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Yelena’s voice was low and soothing, the faintest trace of a smile in her tone. “We’re here.”

Kate’s eyelids fluttered open, her groggy mind scrambling to make sense of her surroundings. She looked out the window and blinked, recognising the familiar car park of her old building. The puzzle pieces clicked together, and a rush of confusion followed.

“Wait…” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “I thought we were going to the penthouse?”

Yelena just looked at her, the faintest glimmer of a proud smirk playing on her lips. She reached across the car, squeezing Kate’s hand with reassuring confidence. “Just trust me.”

Kate frowned, a little disoriented as she followed Yelena out of the car. Lucky happily trotted behind them, his tail wagging as he padded alongside. Kate's body was still fogged with sleep, but a creeping sense of anticipation began to tug at her.

They reached the pizza shop at the bottom of the building, and Kate opened her mouth to say something, but Yelena was already stepping forward, gesturing to a sleek, high-tech panel now seamlessly integrated into the back wall. The old door was now a pantry, and as Yelena placed Kate’s palm against the panel, a faint click sounded, followed by a mechanical hum as the panel scanned her fingerprints, then her retina in one smooth motion (courtesy of the Bishop securities database).

“Wait. Hold on. Yelena, this… this wasn’t here before,” Kate said, her voice cracking with disbelief as she took in the new tech. “You did this…? While we were in Iowa? I mean, who did this? How?”

Yelena’s smirk was almost playful, but there was something deeper in her eyes. “I had some help. I pulled in many favours.” She then smirked. “Plus, I’m just really good,” she added, winking.

“And always so modest,” Kate chuckled, but she couldn’t help but feel her heart constrict at the thought that Yelena had pulled in favours, all for her.

Yelena didn’t answer. She just grinned as she pushed open the secondary door that led to the stairs and the loft. As they walked in, Kate saw that every surface gleamed like new, the walls freshly painted. Kate’s breath hitched as they stepped inside, and her eyes swept over the space in wonder. It wasn’t just restored, it was better. Her favourite purples touched everything, from the throw pillows to the plush area rug beneath the sleek, modern couch.

“It’s… It’s perfect,” Kate breathed, barely able to get the words out.

Yelena’s grin only grew wider as she led her inside fully, Lucky bounding past in excitement. “Check this out,” she said, tapping another discreet panel by the door. A series of sleek monitors lit up, displaying live feeds from cameras placed at every angle outside the building. “Full perimeter surveillance. Motion sensors. Fingerprint and retina locks, only yours work until you give other people access.” She gestured to the windows proudly. “Bulletproof, blast-resistant glass. Top of the line. Thermal and acoustic insulation too. No one listens, no one shoots. And no one’s getting in without you knowing. Not even me.”

Kate’s jaw dropped slightly as she ran her fingers along the panel. “Oh my God…”

“That’s not all,” Yelena continued, excitement bubbling in her voice as she guided Kate toward the kitchen. “Your kitchen, enlarged. You may actually be able to cook now!”

Kate laughed breathlessly, still overwhelmed. She noted the polished countertops, the double oven, the neatly arranged cupboards, and then Yelena threw open a drawer full of neatly stacked, gleaming cutlery.

“A normal amount of forks,” Yelena quipped, looking far too pleased with herself. “You are welcome.”

Kate let out a disbelieving laugh. “I am one person!”

Yelena rolled her eyes, folding her arms. “Maybe so, but it was sad, Kate Bishop. Pathetic, really. Your guests need cutlery!”

Kate couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from her chest, the sound bright and warm in a way that Yelena had sorely missed. They moved on to the living area, where Kate’s eyes grew impossibly wider at the sight of the colossal TV mounted on the wall, flanked by sleek bookcases and shelves filled with games and consoles.

“Okay, now you’re just showing off,” Kate teased, a smile tugging at her lips.

Yelena shrugged, though her grin remained. “Maybe a little.”

Kate turned to her, eyes still bright with wonder, but now tinged with something softer, something deeper. “Why did you do all this?”

Yelena’s smile faltered, softening into something far more serious as she met Kate’s gaze. The playfulness slipped away from her expression, replaced by a quiet intensity. “Because you didn’t need to go back to that penthouse,” she said, her voice low but firm, like a promise. “You needed somewhere that feels like you. Somewhere safe. Somewhere that is yours and not your mother’s.”

Kate’s heart skipped a beat. The words hit harder than she’d expected, a weight in her chest that she hadn’t anticipated. Without even realising it, she was moving toward Yelena. She looked at Yelena, really looked at her, as if trying to see through her, through everything, to understand the woman standing before her.

“Somewhere that is ours, Yelena,” she said softly, the words almost breathless, as if admitting them meant something bigger than she could express.

Yelena’s eyes widened, and she beamed, that signature smile returning for a brief, bright moment. “Then yes, somewhere that is ours, Kate Bishop,” she replied, the lightness in her voice betraying how much this meant to her, too.

The room around them felt suddenly too small, and Kate found herself staring at Yelena, really staring as if seeing her for the first time. The kindness, the care, the ways she’d pulled Kate from the brink, giving her a home, a life, a future. Yelena had been a force of nature, coming out of nowhere to fix what Kate couldn’t even see. She’d pulled her back from the darkest corners, from her loneliest thoughts.

Kate blinked hard, fighting the surge of emotion that threatened to spill over. She didn’t have the words, but she couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Seriously, Lena…” Kate’s voice cracked, and she quickly cleared her throat, trying again, her tone quieter but far more earnest. “Thank you for this. You have no idea how much this means to me. Everything you’ve done… I don’t even know how to… I don’t know how to tell you how much it’s all changed things for me.”

Yelena’s eyes softened, the smile she’d been wearing slipping into something more tender, something full of understanding. “Anything for you, my Little Hawk,” she murmured, the affection in her voice sending a flutter through Kate’s chest.

But Kate couldn’t stand it anymore. Yelena had done so much, had been there when Kate felt like she was losing everything, when she was too lost in her own darkness to see what was right in front of her. It wasn’t just about the apartment. It wasn’t just about the things Yelena had fixed or done for her. It was about everything.

She reached for Yelena, her hands finding the soft curve of her face, and without thinking, without hesitation, she pulled her in. Their lips met, hard and urgent, and Kate felt a fire she hadn’t even known was there. A hunger, raw and desperate, as if everything she’d been holding back in her chest was finally spilling over, everything Yelena had been to her, everything she was to her.

Yelena’s breath caught in her throat, her body freezing for a brief moment before she melted into Kate’s touch, her hands threading into Kate’s hair as she kissed her back with an equal, frantic intensity. The kiss was desperate, untamed, as if they both needed it more than air. The world around them seemed to disappear, the hum of the city outside, the quiet of the room, all of it was swallowed up by the storm of passion between them.

Their kiss deepened, messy and heated, every touch igniting something in both of them, something that they could no longer ignore. Kate’s fingers tightened on Yelena’s face, as if to hold her there, to keep her in this moment. Yelena was precious to her in ways Kate couldn’t quite explain, but she didn’t need to; she felt it in the way their lips met, in the urgency of their movements.

They lost themselves in each other, yet again. This was nothing new, another stolen moment in a week filled with them since they’d started dating, but this time it felt different. More intense. They both knew why. Neither of them had let it go further than this, hadn’t crossed that line yet out of respect for Clint, for the family. But here, with their bodies pressed together, hands roaming with an urgency that spoke volumes, it was as if they couldn’t hold back any longer, and they didn't have to.

Kate’s heart was pounding in her chest, her senses overwhelmed by the feel of Yelena’s body under her hands, her lips, her breath. And then, before she even realised it, she had Yelena pressed against the wall. The soft thud of her spine hitting the surface barely registered as Kate pinned her there, deepening the kiss, drowning in the connection.

Yelena’s breath came in quick, shallow bursts, her chest rising and falling against Kate’s. They were both gasping for air, the heat between them building to a point where it felt like they might combust.

“Yebat'(Fuck), Kate,” Yelena rasped, her voice rough and full of pure want, her accent thicker than usual, her eyes dark with need.

Kate, of course, knew what that word meant, and she grinned against her lips, teasing and mischievous. She nipped at Yelena’s bottom lip before pulling back just enough to speak, her voice low and deliciously dangerous. “Maybe you should show me our new bedroom,” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her words.

What Kate didn’t expect, what made her stomach flip and heat pool low in her belly was the soft, helpless sound that escaped Yelena’s lips. A whine. A genuine, needy, utterly unguarded whine, thick with frustration and arousal.

Kate’s eyes darkened instantly, her grin sharpening into something positively wicked. “Mmm… that’s a new sound,” she teased, her breath hot against Yelena’s flushed skin. “I want to hear it again.”

Yelena groaned, her cheeks burning crimson as she threw her head back against the wall with a breathless laugh. She’d grown far too fond of this side of Kate, this confident, commanding Kate that only emerged in moments like these, when they were teetering on the edge of losing control.

Kate’s chest swelled with heat and affection, her fingers lacing through Yelena’s as she tugged her away from the wall. “Come with me, baby,” she whispered, her voice dark and sultry but still threaded with something so warm it made Yelena’s heart ache.

As Kate led her towards the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “I assume it’s in the same place? Or did you make a secret bunker somewhere in the remodel?”

Yelena’s brain had entirely melted by this point, and all she could do was nod again, swallowing thickly. Her mouth felt too dry to form words, her body thrumming with a pulse that only grew louder as they climbed the stairs together.

-----

By the time they stumbled into the bedroom, both of them breathless from their kisses and laughter, everything outside their small bubble felt like it had vanished. Yelena kicked the door shut behind them, ensuring that Lucky would not disturb them, but before she could say a word, Kate was already on top of her, pushing her back onto the bed with a grin.

Yelena’s breath hitched, the sudden shift in energy leaving her momentarily stunned. Kate hovered over her, their eyes locking, as if silently asking permission. And Yelena, her pulse racing, couldn’t look away, she just nodded. Without another thought, Kate leaned down, her lips crashing into Yelena’s with an intensity that left them both breathless, dizzy.

Their bodies tangled together on the plush bedspread, both of them fumbling with clothes in a rush. Kate’s hands were relentless, slipping beneath Yelena’s shirt, fingers grazing over skin that seemed to spark beneath her touch. Yelena’s own hands were equally desperate, tugging at the hem of Kate’s shirt, her fingers shaking with need as they explored her back, the heat between them thickening with every movement until they were both bare to one another.

Kate’s lips moved down, her kisses now trailing over Yelena’s jaw and neck, slow and deliberate. Yelena arched under her, gasping at the soft press of her mouth against her skin. Every kiss sent a shiver through her, every caress deepening the tension that had been simmering for so long. Kate’s breath was hot against her ear, her voice a low, teasing whisper. “You are always so easy to rile up, Belova.”

Yelena's body reacted without thinking, her hands finding Kate’s shoulders and pulling her closer. “You are so cocky,” Yelena managed to say, though her voice wavered with the heat of the moment. “Just remember, I can turn the tables if I want.” Her tone was confident, but her breathless state betrayed her.

Kate smirked, a low laugh escaping her lips. She trailed a finger down Yelena’s neck, drawing patterns on her skin, before letting her finger slip lower, following the curve of her collarbone. “You probably could, but you won’t…” Kate’s voice was teasing, almost knowing. She paused, her gaze locking with Yelena’s as she let her words hang in the air. “Because you like this, don’t you, baby?”

Yelena swallowed hard, the change in Kate almost intoxicating. She couldn’t understand how Kate switched into such a confident, cocky version of herself when, in any other situation, she was a shy, rambling mess. But this side of Kate always did something to Yelena, igniting a fire she couldn't deny. Her cheeks burned red, her breath hitching, but she tried to force herself to appear unaffected. Rolling her eyes, she huffed, "Shut up, and get on with it."

Kate laughed, the sound deep and satisfying. She didn’t wait for another word before lowering her lips to Yelena’s neck, kissing her with a new intensity that had Yelena shivering. Kate’s lips trailed down, her kisses lingering on the sensitive skin of Yelena’s collarbone, while her hands continued to roam, slow and deliberate, exploring every inch of her.

“You can be patient, right? This is the first time I get to properly explore,” Kate murmured with a crooked grin, mischief curling the corners of her lips as she hovered over Yelena, her breath warm against flushed skin as she pressed a kiss beneath her jaw, then another lower down, tracing the edge of her neck with a kind of affection that felt almost reverent.

Yelena arched into her instinctively, breath hitching, her whole body already strung tight with anticipation. “Don’t want to be patient,” she whispered, voice hoarse with need, dragging Kate back down by her neck into a kiss that was far from gentle. It was messy and clumsy and real, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, fingers fisted in dark hair like she could hold her there forever.

But Kate was determined. She eased back with a smile so soft it nearly undid Yelena completely. Her hands roamed with purpose, trailing slowly over ribs, stomach, sides, like she was mapping her inch by inch. Each scar was kissed like a vow, every freckle noted. Kate treated them like something sacred, something beautiful.

So when her lips brushed lower, when she reached the scar just beneath Yelena’s abdomen, a thin line drawn by hands that had taken without permission, she didn’t even pause. She just kissed it, tender as all the others, because she didn’t know that this one was different.

And Yelena went still.

Her entire body locked, chest rising too fast, fists curling into the sheets. It felt like being split open, raw and exposed and suddenly sixteen again, back in that cold room with the sterile light and voices that told her what would happen to her body.

“No.” The word broke from her like a snap, sharp and cutting and so much heavier than it should have been.

Kate pulled back instantly, her eyes wide, concern flooding her expression like a wave. “Baby?” she said, voice low and careful, no longer playful. “What’s wrong?”

Yelena couldn’t speak for a second. Her jaw clenched. Her gaze was locked on the ceiling, like if she just stared hard enough, she could blink herself into somewhere else. “Not there,” she said finally, the words tight and quiet.

Kate froze. Her hands stilled above Yelena’s skin, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to understand. It was just a scar, like so many others…but something about this one… something clearly hurt.

“Oh.” Kate’s voice dropped instantly, all the mischief draining from her like it had never been there. “Okay. I hear you. I won’t do that again. I’m sorry.”

Yelena gave a small, silent nod, still staring up at the ceiling, her body taut with tension. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, panic clawing just beneath the surface as her hand lifted to her neck, her pointer finger and thumb squeezing as she forced herself to calm down in the only way she knew how.

Kate didn’t move right away. She stayed still, watching her, eyes soft with worry. Then, slowly, she began to ease back, every motion quiet, deliberate, like she was backing away from a startled animal. “Hey,” she said gently, voice barely above a whisper as she shifted to the side. “Let’s get comfy, yeah? We can put something dumb on and just… curl up for a bit. I’ll make popcorn. Extra butter.”

But before she could fully move away, Yelena’s hand moved from her neck and caught her wrist, quick and firm, not with force, but with something urgent. “Wait,” she said, eyes darting to meet Kate’s. There was confusion there. Guilt. Fear. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” Her voice wavered. “You… you don’t want to carry on?”

Kate’s expression crumpled, not with frustration, but with heartbreak. Gentle, unexpected heartbreak. She sank back down, her hand immediately going to Yelena’s face, cupping her cheek. “God, no. Lena, you didn’t ruin anything,” she whispered. “You said no. That’s all I need to hear. I didn’t want to keep going if you weren’t okay. All I care about is your comfort.”

Yelena stared at her, confusion swirling in her eyes. The words were so simple. So ordinary. But they struck something deep inside her. No one had ever asked her what she wanted. But Kate had stopped. Had offered her an out. Had given her something Yelena wasn’t sure she even knew how to accept.

A choice.

And it felt… powerful.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Her eyes lifted. They were glassy, but steady now. There was still fear in them, but there was strength too. “I still want to,” she said, quiet but sure. “I just… I needed to say no to that. Not everything.”

Kate blinked, almost startled by the honesty in her voice. Her hand was still on Yelena’s cheek, thumb brushing gently beneath her eye. “You sure?” she asked softly, searching her face for even the slightest doubt. “Promise me you will tell me to stop if you aren't okay?”

Yelena nodded, eyes steady now, voice low but sure. “I’m sure, and I promise,” she breathed, before tugging Kate back on top of her like she weighed nothing at all, like she belonged there. The kiss that followed was immediate, demanding, and so full of want it almost hurt. Yelena deepened it instantly, hands fisted in Kate’s hair, her trust spilling out through every breathless sound she made, every desperate press of her mouth to Kate’s. The lust was building, yes, but so was something warmer, quieter. Something safe.

They were both panting by the time Kate pulled away, her lips flushed, her pupils so blown the blue of her eyes had almost vanished. She stared down at Yelena like she was trying to commit her to memory, before her smirk slowly returned. “In that case,” Kate murmured, her voice playful and husky all at once, “if you still want to… I think you should say please.”

Yelena scoffed, narrowing her eyes despite how wrecked she already sounded. “I am not going to beg you, Kate. I’m not that desperate.”

It was, quite obviously, a lie. Kate’s grin deepened. “Fine,” she said sweetly, and began to shift down her body, settling between Yelena’s thighs with deliberate slowness. She met Yelena’s gaze, checking, and when Yelena gave the faintest nod, she dipped her head and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

Then another. And another. She trailed kisses down to Yelena’s knees, then back up, maddeningly slow, never quite where Yelena needed her most. All the while, her eyes stayed locked on Yelena’s face, watching the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers twisted in the sheets, her hips shifting helplessly.

“Just one little word,” Kate whispered between kisses, voice feather-light. “All you gotta do is say please, baby.”

Yelena whined and tried her best not to sound utterly undone. But Kate’s mouth was unrelenting, brushing kisses along the sensitive skin of her thighs until she was squirming, her restraint unravelling thread by thread.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Yelena muttered it, it was so quiet, guttural, almost a growl. “Please.”

Kate’s head snapped up with mock innocence. “Hmm? What was that?”

Yelena glared at her through flushed cheeks and clenched teeth. “I said, please.”

And Kate beamed like she’d just won the lottery. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“You are insufferable,” Yelena muttered, trying not to smile, failing entirely.

Kate chuckled as she finally leaned in, hands firm at Yelena’s hips to hold her still. “You really shouldn’t say that to the one person who’s about to give you everything you want.”

With that, Kate moved down further as she pushed Yelena’s legs further apart gaining a perfect view of Yelena’s cunt that was glistening for her. “So wet for me, baby girl”, she whispered, almost reverently, as if seeing this was something holy.

Yelena blushed, her cheeks flushing even more than they had been previously. Between the teasing and the begging, Yelena was already completely flustered, but hearing those words from Kate’s mouth sent her reeling.

Kate leaned in to place a long teasing lick right down her slit. Kate moaned from the taste while Yelena’s hips jolted up, begging for more friction, more pressure, something.

Kate understood, and her hands came up, around the back of Yelena’s thighs, before roughly pulling Yelena’s centre closer to her face. Yelena didn't even get a chance to react before Kate’s mouth was back on her, her face stuffed into Yelena’s cunt, eating her like a woman starved.

Yelena’s hips moved instinctively, chasing every flicker of contact, the friction and heat mounting with each pulse of pleasure. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her fingers curled tightly in Kate’s hair, anchoring herself to something as the pressure inside her climbed higher. But it still wasn’t enough. She needed more.

“Please, Kate,” she gasped, the words breaking from her lips in a desperate, breathless whimper. “I need more.”

Kate slowed, just slightly, pulling back enough to look up at her, and when she did? That look on Yelena’s face, flushed, open, and trembling on the edge of something vast. It knocked the wind out of her for a second. But then the smirk returned, dark and teasing, because Kate was helpless to resist just how beautiful Yelena was when she was falling apart like this.

“More?” Kate repeated, her voice low, teasing as it vibrated against Yelena’s skin. “So needy, maybe I should stop altogether, hm?”

Yelena let out a frustrated, wrecked little noise, a half-whine, half growl as her hips jerked again, seeking out the contact that had been so cruelly interrupted. Her hands tugged at Kate’s hair in protest, begging her to continue.

Kate’s smirk widened, pleased and playful and just a little bit wicked, as she let her hands glide slowly up Yelena’s trembling thighs, fingertips brushing deliberately light, making her shiver. “Can you tell me exactly what you need?” she asked, voice low and velvet-smooth, laced with challenge.

Yelena groaned, dragging a hand over her face like she could hide the sheer need pulsing through her body. She wasn’t used to this, to wanting like this, but Kate had made it feel like she could be that. Like she wouldn’t be judged for wanting, for craving, for falling apart beneath someone who looked at her like she was something to be cherished.

Still, the words stuck. They caught in her throat, thick and humiliating, and her pride, sharp and stubborn kicked back even as her hips lifted again, searching. “You know what I need,” she said finally, her voice rough, teeth clenched around the edge of a growl.

Kate only laughed, warm and maddening and far too pleased with herself. “Oh, I do,” she said sweetly, fingers ghosting closer, brushing just shy of where Yelena was aching. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Yelena let out a shaking breath, her eyes fluttering shut as her head tilted back into the pillows. She was blushing furiously now, half from frustration, half from how undone she felt under Kate’s touch, her voice, her goddamn grin.

“I need your fingers,” she said finally, hoarse and broken, her jaw tight like it cost her something. “I need you to fuck me with your fingers, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Kate blinked. Then, slowly, she grinned, soft, stunned, and absolutely wrecked by the admission. “Jesus Christ, Yelena,” she breathed, the cocky smirk dissolving into something much, much hungrier. “Yeah, that’ll do it. That is exactly what I wanted.”

And with that, she sank back down, and this time, there was no teasing. No pulling away. Her mouth attached to Yelena’s clit, as her fingers dropped lower to ghost above her entrance. Seeking out consent one final time, Kate looked into Yelena’s eyes, but found nothing but pure, unbridled hunger staring back at her, so Kate made her move.

Kate pushed two fingers deep inside, filling her completely without another thought. Yelena squeezed her eyes shut, the sensation overwhelming, and a raw, unfiltered moan tore from her lips before she could stop it.

Kate’s voice came next, it was low, sultry, and coaxing like a velvet drag down her spine. “Open your eyes for me, baby,” she murmured, her breath hot against Yelena’s skin. “I want to see you fall apart. I want to watch it happen.”

The words hit Yelena like a spark to dry kindling, a fresh wave of heat rolling through her as her lashes fluttered open, eyes locking with Kate’s like she couldn’t look anywhere else.

“Good girl,” Kate purred, her voice a rich, honeyed drawl.

Yelena’s body betrayed her instantly, her cunt clenched onto Kate’s fingers, her hips twitching, breath stuttering, her fingers tightening in Kate’s hair.

Kate noticed. Of course she noticed. Her grin turned downright sinful. “Ohhh,” she drawled, her tone dripping with delight. “You like that, huh? You like it when I praise you, pretty girl?”

Yelena huffed, rolling her eyes in a half-hearted attempt to seem unaffected, but it was hopeless. Kates fingers were pumping inside her, curling at just the right spot, and whenever she wasnt speaking, her tongue was attached to her clit.

Every shift, every movement sent Yelena’s body twisting and arching, betraying her with each desperate motion. Kate’s soft chuckle vibrated against her skin, only making things worse. And what made it even harder for Yelena to deny was the heat, the flush that spread from her chest to her cheeks, a deep, vivid red that smouldered under Kate’s gaze.

Kate raised an eyebrow, a quiet, knowing challenge in her expression. It was all it took. Yelena gave in. She nodded, small and embarrassed, but there was no hiding the way her body still trembled, the way her lips parted in silent surrender.

Kate chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through the air like a promise of more to come. Her lips brushed the inside of Yelena’s thigh, sending a shiver through her body. “Yeah… that’s what I thought,” Kate purred, her voice low and teasing, before she doubled her efforts.

Yelena’s breath hitched, and her hands clenched the sheets beneath her, her fingers digging into the fabric in an attempt to ground herself. Every inch of her skin burned, every nerve ending alive with sensation. She couldn’t stop the moans and whines pouring out of her mouth, the screams of ecstasy.

At one point, all that could be heard was a chant of “uh, uh, uh,” Yelena couldn’t seem to catch her breath, couldn’t focus on anything but Kate, the way she moved, the way she made her feel like she was unravelling, thread by thread.

Kate’s attention was unrelenting, each movement deliberate, bringing Yelena to the edge, and then pulling her back. And Kate loved it. Loved the power she held, loved how Yelena’s body responded like a beautiful, fragile thing, desperate for release.

“Please, Kate,” Yelena breathed, her voice shaky with a mix of need and frustration. The overwhelming sensation inside her made it hard to think clearly, but the ache was undeniable, her body demanding release.

Kate’s eyes softened as she watched Yelena, noticing the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. “Please, what?” she asked, her voice gentle but teasing, coaxing her without pressure.

Yelena shut her eyes briefly, trying to push the overwhelming emotions away, but it was no use. She wasn’t entirely sure what she needed to feel complete, or how to get there, but she knew she was in safe hands with Kate. “I just…I wanna cum, Kate. Please. Please!” she whined.

Kate’s lips curled into a knowing smile as she shifted slightly, but still continuing her assault on Yelena’s cunt with her fingers, her voice was light. “Look at you, so reluctant to beg earlier, and now look. What happened to turning the tables, hmm?” she teased, but her tone was softer now.

Yelena didn’t have the strength to argue, her body aching with a need she couldn’t express. She felt vulnerable, her breath hitching as she spoke again, quieter this time. “I can’t… I just need… please,” she whispered, the words a quiet plea that broke through the walls she’d built up.

Kate kept up her pace with her fingers, using her thumb to apply the right amount of pressure to Yelena’s clit in place of her mouth as she instead placed kisses all over Yelena’s chest and neck. She knew Yelena was close, she could feel it, and she would make damn sure that Yelena fell over that edge.

“You’re doing so well for me, Lena. So, so well,” Kate whispered, her voice thick with pride and affection as she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Just a little more, baby.”

Yelena nodded, the motion small but desperate, her eyes locked onto Kate’s with a silent plea that said everything her voice couldn’t. There was a raw intensity in her gaze, wide, glassy, full of longing, like she was holding on by a thread and trusting Kate to catch her.

Instead of pleading, instead of making noise like she had previously, Yelena went quiet. Every breath she took shuddered through her, her body drawn tight like a bowstring, trembling as she edged closer and closer to the precipice.

Kate's expression softened, reverent and awed all at once. She brushed a hand across Yelena’s cheek, her thumb tracing lightly along her jaw. “I’ve got you,” she murmured again, steady and certain. “Just let go. I’m right here.”

Yelena’s fingers clutched at the sheets, at Kate, anything she could find to ground herself in that moment. Her heart was pounding. Her skin felt like it was glowing, every nerve lit up and singing with sensation.

And when Yelena finally tipped over the edge, the silence ended, her cry was loud, it was raw, vibrating through the loft like something that had never been given space before now. Something Kate had pulled from her with nothing but gentleness and fire.

Kate felt a wave of quiet satisfaction wash over her as she watched the serenity settle over Yelena’s face, the tension in her body slowly giving way to something softer, calmer. There was a kind of wonder in the way her features relaxed, eyes half-lidded and lips parted with the ghost of a breathless smile.

Kate slowed instinctively, giving Yelena time to ride the climax she had just experienced, not wanting to rush a single second of it, just soaking in the sight of someone she adored looking so at peace, so safe.

But then Yelena let out a faint, breathy whine and gave her a gentle push, not forceful, just a nudge, a signal, her body speaking for her when her mouth clearly could not.

Kate’s smile softened into something tender the moment she felt Yelena’s gentle nudge. There was no hesitation, no teasing left, just quiet understanding. She moved slowly, carefully, as if handling something fragile, pulling out and easing back with deliberate grace to give Yelena space to breathe. Then she leaned in and pressed the lightest kiss to Yelena’s cheek, her lips lingering there just a moment longer than necessary.

She gathered Yelena into her arms like she was something rare, something irreplaceable. Kate’s arms circled her gently but securely, holding her close in that space between passion and peace, where only comfort remained.

Yelena curled in tighter without a word, seeking warmth and safety in Kate’s embrace. One arm snaked tightly around Kate’s waist, the other sliding under her, anchoring them together. Their legs tangled naturally beneath the blankets, like they’d always belonged that way.

Yelena’s breathing was still uneven, her chest rising and falling as her heart gradually settled. Her lashes were damp, her eyes glassy, the storm inside her quieting but not quite gone. And yet, somewhere in the haze, she managed a small, breathless laugh, almost disbelieving. “I hate you a little bit,” she whispered, voice hoarse and teasing, though there was no heat behind it.

Kate grinned against her skin, smug in the gentlest way, her mouth brushing over Yelena’s temple before pressing a kiss just beside her eyebrow. The kiss was full of fondness, warmth, and a quiet pride, like she already knew the truth. “No, you don’t,” she whispered, her breath soft against Yelena’s skin.

Yelena sighed through her smile, her body still tucked close, utterly relaxed in Kate’s arms. “...Yeah. No, I don’t.” The words came easier now, her voice laced with affection, and she no longer felt the need to hide. And then, just like that, her expression shifted, her smirk returning with full force as her eyes darkened with something playful and deliberate.

“Now it’s my turn,” she said, and before Kate could react, Yelena slipped from her hold and rolled on top of her in one smooth motion, straddling her with ease.

Kate let out a surprised laugh, half startled, half delighted. Her hands instinctively found Yelena’s hips, holding her there like she never wanted to let go. “I’m not going to say no,” she breathed, eyes wide and completely captivated.

-----

They spent the rest of the night in a tangle of sheets, laughter, moans and soft gasps, taking turns exploring and exchanging every bit of pent-up tension that had built between them. There was no rush, no expectations. Just hands and lips and whispered words, shared breath and flushed skin, tangled limbs and slow-burning smiles.

By the time they collapsed into the pillows, limbs heavy and tangled, Yelena was barely conscious, a soft, sleepy smile tugging at her lips as she blinked up at the ceiling. Her body was boneless, spent, and thoroughly satisfied. She expected to fall asleep right there, curled into the sheets, too exhausted to move.

But Kate wasn’t done. Kate slowly untangled herself, rising onto one elbow. She didn’t say anything at first, just studied Yelena’s face with a softness in her eyes that made Yelena's stomach flip. Then she leaned in, brushed a kiss to her temple, and quietly said, “Need to get cleaned up, beautiful.”

Yelena frowned, too tired to understand. “What?”

Kate didn’t answer with words. Instead, she carefully scooped her up, one arm under her knees, the other behind her shoulders, lifting her from the bed like it was nothing. Yelena made a startled sound, half-protest, half-laugh. “Kate, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Kate interrupted gently, adjusting her hold as she carried her across the room. Her voice was calm, sure, as if it wasn’t even a question. “Let me take care of you.”

That silenced Yelena completely. The bathroom light was soft and low, Kate nudged the door open with her foot and carefully lowered Yelena onto the edge of the tub while reaching for the taps. The bath was quick but comforting, warm water, gentle touches, Kate making sure every bit of her was taken care of without a single complaint. There was something quietly intimate about it, the way Kate wrapped her hair up into a messy bun to keep it dry, how she kissed the top of her head when she sank deeper into the water.

Later, wrapped in fresh towels and then swapped for oversized sleep shirts and soft pyjama bottoms, they found their way back to bed. Kate slipped in first and opened her arms without a word. Yelena didn’t hesitate. She crawled in close, curling up against her, head tucked under Kate’s chin. Kate’s arms came around her immediately, holding her close, like something too precious to let go. Yelena felt her body ache with that pleasant kind of exhaustion as she settled down.

Yelena lay in silence, her breathing slow and even but still not quite settled. Her cheek was pressed over Kate’s heart, the steady thrum of it grounding her in a way she didn’t have words for. Her fingers curled into the hem of Kate’s shirt, holding it like an anchor, tight, like she didn’t trust it to stay unless she kept it close. The cotton was warm against her skin, familiar and safe, and Kate’s arms around her didn’t loosen, not even a little. If anything, they tightened. Like a shield. Like a promise.

Kate held her like she was something fragile but not broken, like she wasn’t afraid of the sharp edges. And that was what stunned Yelena more than anything, not the night, not the vulnerability or the touches or the laughter, it was this. The quiet after. The weight of being held and knowing that someone wanted to. That someone chose to.

Her voice came out barely more than a whisper, hesitant and raw. “Kate?”

Kate didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t need to. Her hand moved slowly, brushing over Yelena’s spine, steady and reassuring. “Mm?”

There was a pause. Yelena swallowed hard. “…Why’d you do all that?”

Kate’s brows knit together, just slightly, her gaze drifting over the darkened ceiling as she let the question settle in her chest. It caught her off guard, not because she didn’t know the answer, but because it hadn’t even occurred to her to question it.

Of course she’d done all that. Of course she’d carried Yelena to the bath, washed her hair, held her close. To her, it was instinct. Care shouldn’t have to be earned. Yelena mattered, was hers and of course she deserved softness after everything.

But the longer Kate sat with the question, the heavier it became. The implication behind it. The quiet disbelief in Yelena’s voice. That no one else had done this for her. That no one else had ever stayed after the storm passed and chosen to make her feel safe after. And that hurt, deep and low in Kate’s chest like something sharp had been pressed against her heart.

She shifted slowly, lowering her head with purpose, with care, and pressed a kiss to the crown of Yelena’s head. Gentle, reverent. Like a promise. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but steady, full of unshaken certainty. Like she’d been carrying the words with her all night, waiting for the right moment to give them breath.

“Because you matter to me. Because I want you to be comfortable.” She let her fingers curl around Yelena’s side a little tighter, grounding both of them. “And because someone should have done this for you already. But clearly they didn’t. So I will.”

Yelena didn’t move, didn’t say anything at first. But something shifted in her, something deep and unfamiliar that she couldn’t name. She blinked fast, her throat suddenly tight, and then slowly, like her body made the decision before her mind caught up, she burrowed closer, hiding her face in the hollow of Kate’s chest. Her fingers gripped tighter in the fabric, and her other hand slipped around Kate’s waist, pulling her in like she was trying to crawl inside her skin.

“…You’re such a sap,” she mumbled, the words muffled but not unkind.

Kate grinned, her lips brushing her hairline. “Takes one to know one.”

They didn’t speak after that. They didn’t need to. Words would’ve only cluttered the quiet, and what passed between them now didn’t require sound. The silence wrapped around them like something sacred, thick with comfort, with trust, with the unspoken knowledge that for once, they didn’t have to keep their guards up. That they were safe, here, with each other.

Kate’s hand moved in lazy, gentle patterns across Yelena’s back, fingertips tracing soothing lines like she was trying to memorise her. And slowly, with every breath they shared, their bodies grew heavier, hearts syncing in rhythm until even the shadows in the room seemed to exhale. Sleep found them like that, curled into each other, peaceful, held.

-----

A/N: So, they’re back in New York! They’ve had some important conversations, Kate’s said "I love you" (and definitely noticed the significance of the neck thing), and most importantly….drumroll please….they’ve finally done the deed! Whoop whoop. The fire is officially burning. Anyway, in the next chapter, we’ve got a surprise visit from someone who meddles, leading to Kate seeing a side of Yelena that she’s tried to keep buried. It could either bring them closer or tear everything apart…but either way, it will be angsty, so strap in.

Part 6

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bishovapls · 2 months ago

Text

Hold On - Part 2: Widow's don't have feelings...do they?

Pairing: Yelena Belova & Kate Bishop

Chapter Summary: Kate and Yelena head to the Bartons' farm, but things aren't as simple as they hoped. Yelena starts to feel something she can't quite name while Kate’s emotions are all over the place, a storm she can’t seem to control. It’s messy, raw, and neither of them know how to handle it. Meanwhile, Laura’s watching them like a hawk, when she notices something could be brewing between Kate and Yelena.

Warnings: mentions of previous suicide attempt, Red Room abuse (mention of punishments but barely), so much crying it is actually painful (and dramatic tbh), Alcohol use.

A/N: This chapter is like 95% Yelena's POV, hope you’re not mad about that! And seriously, it’s way more angsty than I intended. I didn’t mean for them to spend most of the chapter in tears, but here we are. Word count: 16k

P.S: So, according to Google Maps, it takes about 16 hours to drive from New York to Iowa. So I had them drive for 16 hours, so if that's totally wrong, blame Google Maps, I'm just a Brit who has no clue about America!

Part 2 begins below the cut, you can also find the fic on AO3. I also have a masterlist.

Part 1 here.

The road stretched out before them, the city lights fading in the distance as Yelena and Kate finally got on their way. They had taken one of Eleanor’s many cars, a sleek, expensive thing that Kate barely even recognised. Yelena had chosen it for the space, it was big enough that they wouldn’t feel cramped, and wouldn’t be forced into close quarters for hours on end, especially when Lucky joined them on the way back.

Yelena had taken the first shift driving, a decision that made sense since Kate was still battling the worst hangover of her life. But what Kate hadn’t noticed was the exhaustion shadowing Yelena’s features. She hadn’t slept. Yelena didn't bring it up either, well not after the brief mention this morning. Yelena had survived on days without sleep, she wasn't about to let one night slow her down, even if she wasn't as young and resilient as she used to be. Kate was already a mess, and Yelena wasn’t about to add to that.

Kate slumped against the passenger seat, arms crossed over her stomach as if she could physically hold herself together. Every bump in the road, every sudden stop, every slight turn sent another fresh wave of nausea rolling through her. It didn’t matter that she had eaten, that she had chugged water, that she had taken a shower in an attempt to reset, nothing helped. She felt like death. Worse than death. And judging by the way Yelena kept sneaking glances at her, Kate knew she looked as awful as she felt.

Music played softly through the speakers, a quiet attempt to fill the silence between them, but Yelena wasn’t stupid. She could see how miserable Kate was, see the way her face had lost all colour, the way her body tensed every time the car shifted slightly. With a sigh, she reached forward and turned the volume down even further before glancing over at her properly.

“Kate Bishop,” she said, voice softer than usual. “Why don’t you close your eyes and sleep?”

Kate shook her head instantly which was a big mistake. The movement sent her stomach flipping violently, her headache pulsing harder in response, and she swallowed thickly against the nausea. “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth, blinking rapidly to keep herself from throwing up.

Yelena didn’t buy that for a second. She studied Kate for a moment longer, her sharp eyes scanning the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers clenched around her stomach. And then, just as casually, she asked, “Are you scared of having a nightmare?”

Kate’s head snapped up, her whole body stiffening. Shit. I can’t let her know I have nightmares. She already probably thinks I’m pathetic.

The thought was instant, automatic. She didn’t want Yelena to see her as any weaker than she already felt. She had already embarrassed herself enough, first on the rooftop, then with her drunken confessions, then waking up to find Yelena had babysat her all night. If Yelena knew how often she woke up gasping for breath, her heart hammering in her chest, her mind tangled in memories she couldn’t escape, she would never let Kate live it down.

“I don’t have nightmares,” Kate said smoothly, keeping her voice as even as possible. And to her own surprise, it actually sounded convincing.

But Yelena wasn’t stupid. “Kate, you had one last night,” she pointed out, her brows pulling together in concern. It was only now, watching Kate’s confusion, that she realised she must have forgotten. A fresh wave of worry crashed over her. How much had Kate actually drank last night? Yelena’s mind immediately began sifting through why her memory had so many gaps.

Kate, meanwhile, kept her expression neutral. She could not let Yelena see the panic bubbling up inside her. “Oh, did I?” she said, she was actually surprised that she had a nightmare and didn't remember.

“Huh. Never had them before. Must’ve been the alcohol.” She delivered the lie so smoothly, so calmly, that even Yelena, who had spent years reading people, picking apart their weaknesses didn’t immediately catch it. She should have. But she was distracted and tired, and part of her wanted to believe Kate wasn’t waking up in terror every night.

“Oh.” Yelena hummed slightly, processing that. “Well, that is good, then.” She shifted, her grip relaxing on the steering wheel just a little. “So in that case, why won’t you sleep?”

Kate smirked slightly to herself. She had never been a particularly good liar, but Yelena was distracted by the road, clearly exhausted, and Kate knew she wasn’t picking up on the subtle cracks in her story. It felt like a small victory.

“I will eventually,” Kate said, leaning her head back against the seat, sighing. “I’m just… not particularly tired. I just feel like crap.” The last part, at least, wasn’t a lie.

By the tenth hour of driving, Yelena was exhausted. Her hands were steady on the wheel, but her body ached from sitting so long, and her mind was beginning to blur at the edges. She had been running on sheer willpower for hours now, determined to get them as far as possible before stopping.

Kate, despite all her earlier efforts to stay awake, had eventually given in, slumping against the passenger seat, her head tilted toward the window, her breathing slow and even. Yelena had watched her out of the corner of her eye, taking small moments to glance over whenever the road stretched empty ahead of them.

Pulling off the highway and into a rest stop, Yelena shifted the car into park and exhaled, rolling her neck to ease the stiffness settling in. She took a moment to stretch before turning her attention to Kate, still curled into herself, still lost in whatever dreams her exhausted mind had drifted into.

But Yelena knew they had been driving too long for Kate to sleep through this. If she didn’t wake her now, she would definitely regret it later.

With a sigh, she reached over and gently shook Kate’s arm. “Kate Bishop,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual, almost careful. “Wake up, we are at a rest stop. Come, we will eat, da? (yes)”

Kate groaned softly, blinking sluggishly as she surfaced from sleep, her brain taking a long moment to catch up. She stared at Yelena in groggy confusion, like she hadn’t fully processed the words yet. For a brief second, Yelena thought she might just go back to sleep, but then, slowly, Kate gave a small nod, rubbing at her eyes before dragging herself upright.

Yelena smirked as she watched Kate fumble with the seatbelt, her movements still clumsy from sleep. “Very graceful,” she teased lightly.

Kate shot her a half-hearted glare, but it lacked any real bite. She pushed open the door and stepped out onto the pavement, only to stumble slightly as her legs caught up with her. Yelena reached out instinctively, gripping her elbow before she could face-plant onto the concrete. Kate mumbled something under her breath, clearly annoyed at her own lack of coordination, but she didn’t pull away from Yelena’s steady hold as they started toward the diner attached to the rest stop.

The inside was exactly what Yelena expected, small, slightly worn-down, the kind of place that hadn’t changed in decades. The smell of coffee and greasy food filled the air, and the faint sound of an old jukebox hummed from the corner.

Kate slumped into the nearest booth, her head still heavy from sleep, her body still weighed down by exhaustion. She squinted at the menu, blinking rapidly, trying to force her eyes to focus long enough to actually read it. But her brain was not cooperating.

Yelena watched her struggle for a few moments before Kate let out a resigned sigh and shut the menu entirely. “I’m just gonna assume they have burgers and fries. And Coffee. That seems safe.”

Yelena let out an amused huff. “They do, I am ordering the same.”

Kate gave her a tired half-smile before dropping her head onto the table with a quiet groan. Yelena just smirked, shaking her head fondly as she waved over the waitress. She had a feeling they were going to need a lot of coffee.

---

By the time they got back to the car, Kate felt marginally more human. Two cups of coffee had worked their way through her system, cutting through the lingering fog of exhaustion, and the food had settled in her stomach enough to keep her from feeling like she might keel over. She had used the restroom, stretched out her stiff limbs, and, despite Yelena’s amused sighs, had spent an ungodly amount of time deliberating over which road trip snacks were essential.

Eventually, Yelena had just left her to it while she filled the tank, shaking her head as Kate stood in the gas station aisle, looking as if she were making a life-or-death decision between different brands of gummy worms.

Now, as they made their way back to the car, Kate tossed the bag of snacks into the footwell before turning to Yelena, holding out a hand expectantly. “Okay, give me the keys. I’ll drive the rest of the way.”

She did look better, the colour had returned to her face, and she no longer looked like she was one pothole away from throwing up all over the dashboard. But still, Yelena didn’t even entertain the idea of switching seats.

“No, it is okay,” Yelena said easily, slipping into the driver’s seat without hesitation. “I am happy to continue. We have around six hours left, give or take.”

Kate frowned at her, arms crossing over her chest. “Yelena, you can’t drive the whole way. That isn’t fair. You must be tired.”

Yelena laughed at that, the sound rich with amusement as she shot Kate a knowing look. “Oh, Kate Bishop,” she said with a smirk, her accent thickening ever so slightly. “I have stayed awake for much longer, and then killed many men. I think I can handle it.”

She said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Kate regarding her past. Kate felt her stomach twist slightly, the weight of Yelena’s words settling in. She had always known the Widows had endured things that were beyond her understanding, that the Red Room had been cruel. But she had never really looked into it, never fully considered the depth of what they experienced.

“Are you sure?” Kate asked, her voice softer this time, more sincere. “I genuinely don’t mind, Yelena.”

Yelena didn’t even bother answering. Instead, she simply started the engine and glanced over, waiting for Kate to get in.

Kate rolled her eyes, muttering, “You are so stubborn.”

Yelena grinned, throwing the car into drive. “Da (yes), I have been told this.” She chuckled, clearly pleased with herself.

With an exaggerated sigh, Kate climbed into the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt across her chest before shooting Yelena one last pointed look. “Fine. But if you start nodding off, I will take over.”

Yelena smirked, eyes fixed on the road as she pulled out of the gas station. “We will see, Kate Bishop.”

Yelena did not, in fact, nod off at any point during the journey. If anything, she seemed perfectly at ease behind the wheel, her energy never once faltering despite the long hours. And, to Kate’s surprise, the trip ended up being fun.

With the worst of her hangover finally behind her, Kate could actually enjoy the ride. Yelena cranked up the music, and before long, they were singing along to every song that came on, regardless of whether they actually knew the lyrics.

Kate didn’t even care that Yelena had an unfair advantage, her deep, sultry voice somehow made even the most ridiculous pop songs sound effortlessly cool. Meanwhile, Kate was all dramatic flair, belting the lyrics at full volume, adding unnecessary vocal runs and exaggerated air guitar. It had Yelena laughing so hard she nearly swerved off the road more than once.

Eventually, after much begging and exaggerated pouting, Yelena relinquished control of the music and Kate immediately put on ‘You Belong With Me’. The second it started, she was all in, singing at the top of her lungs, providing her own drum solos on the dashboard, bouncing in her seat like the car was her personal stage.

Yelena loved watching it, absolutely adored seeing Kate so carefree and happy. It was infectious, the way she threw herself into the moment without a single ounce of hesitation despite the sadness running through her. Yelena felt warm, content, even pleasantly buzzed from the sheer energy radiating off Kate. But the sensation unsettled her, that unfamiliar, creeping feeling of something deeper tugging at her chest.

And in true Yelena fashion, she deflected. “Kate Bishop,” she said suddenly, her voice serious despite the chaos. “Who sings this song?”

Kate, mid-drum solo, glanced at her, frowning in confusion. “Taylor Swift?” she answered, momentarily thrown by the idea that Yelena might somehow not know that.

Deadpan, Yelena nodded. “Well, maybe it should stay that way.”

For a second, Kate just stared at her, completely stunned. Then Yelena burst out laughing, her whole body shaking with amusement. “Your face!” she wheezed between laughs, gripping the wheel tightly as she struggled to keep her composure.

Kate’s jaw dropped in betrayal. “How the hell do you even know that dumb joke?” she grumbled, though she couldn’t fully hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

“I have my ways,” Yelena smirked, still catching her breath. “But it was funny, no?”

“I hate you,” Kate muttered, crossing her arms.

“Ha! No, you don’t,” Yelena shot back smugly. “Besides, I am helping you fetch your dog.”

“I can and I do,” Kate huffed, turning her gaze dramatically toward the window.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Kate Bishop. That really hurts my feelings,” Yelena teased, fake-pouting in a way that immediately melted Kate’s defences.

With a sigh, Kate rolled her eyes and relented. “I don’t hate you,” she admitted, then immediately perked up. “But we are restarting the song because you made me miss the best part.”

And with that, she pressed play again, throwing herself back into the song like nothing had happened.

And when they weren’t singing, they talked, about everything and nothing, slipping between sarcasm and sincerity as easily as breathing. The car became its own little world, filled with laughter and the kind of effortless back-and-forth neither of them had to think too hard about.

It had been another four hours before Kate began to get antsy again, the familiar gnaw of hunger making itself known. She stretched in her seat, letting out a dramatic sigh. “You know, I think I might actually die if we don’t stop for food soon.”

Yelena scoffed, shaking her head. “You are so dramatic, Kate Bishop.” Without taking her eyes off the road, she leaned over, effortlessly popping open the glove compartment with one hand. Kate barely had a second to react before a handful of snacks were unceremoniously tossed into her lap.

“Here,” Yelena said, her tone exasperated but laced with amusement. “Eat the snacks you spent forever choosing.”

Kate blinked down at the pile, momentarily caught off guard, while Yelena smirked, settling back into her seat. “I am doing all the work here,” she added, hands steady on the wheel as the car sped down the highway. “You are just sitting pretty.”

Kate turned toward her, grinning. “Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” she teased, eyebrow arched, fully expecting to fluster Yelena. She knew it was just a saying, but still, a part of her wanted to see if she could get a reaction.

For a split second, she thought she saw the faintest hint of pink on Yelena’s cheeks, but just as quickly, it was gone, like it had never been there at all. Then Yelena scoffed, her voice perfectly even. “Do not flatter yourself, it is just an expression. It means you are enjoying yourself while I do all the hard work.”

Kate wasn’t sure why that stung. It was stupid, she shouldn’t have cared, shouldn’t have expected anything else, but a small, irrational part of her had wanted Yelena to at least humor her. To play along. But she swallowed the disappointment down, covering it with a smirk.

“A. That was rude. I’ll have you know I’ve been called pretty by some very attractive women in my time,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder for dramatic effect.

Yelena’s jaw tensed, her grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly, though she didn’t immediately know why. Something about Kate casually talking about other women sent an unfamiliar twist through her stomach. But before she could even begin to unpack it, Kate kept going.

“And B. I offered to drive, but you were being a stubborn ass.”

Yelena scoffed. “Kate, I do not trust your driving skills. I would like to get to the Bartons in one piece. I have important plans.”

Kate narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of plans?”

Yelena’s smirk only widened as she tapped the side of her nose, her voice dropping into something almost sinister. “You will see,” she said smoothly. “Let’s just say Clint might want to start sleeping with one eye open.”

The way she said it, so casual yet so menacing sent a dramatic shiver down Kate’s spine. “Yelena,” she said slowly, half-amused, half-concerned. “What the hell are you planning?”

Yelena simply chuckled, eyes fixed on the road, looking far too pleased with herself. “Don’t worry about it, Kate Bishop,” she purred. “It will be…fun.”

Kate did worry about it. But she also kind of couldn’t wait to find out.

The truth was, Yelena had no real plans to mess with Clint, at least, not in his own home, not around his kids, and definitely not in a way that would upset Kate. But teasing about it made her feel better, gave her something to hold onto, a distraction from the lingering resentment that still sat heavy in her chest. Because no matter how much she tried to move past it, a part of her still couldn't forgive him for letting Natasha make that jump.

As the journey stretched on, they slipped back into their effortless rhythm, singing, talking, and trading playful jabs. Yelena’s relentless teasing was a constant, but Kate didn’t mind. More importantly, for once, she wasn’t overthinking. Her mind wasn’t tangled in the usual web of dark thoughts, wasn’t weighed down by exhaustion or self-loathing.

Instead, she just felt light. She felt happy. The contrast from the night before was almost jarring, she had stood on that rooftop convinced she would never feel this way again, convinced she had reached the end of whatever fight she had left in her. And yet, here she was, laughing, really laughing, in a car with an ex-assassin who had, somehow, become one of the most important people in her life in seconds.

She knew this wouldn’t last. She knew the weight would creep back in eventually, that the shadows in her mind weren’t gone, just momentarily pushed aside. But maybe that was okay. Maybe, for now, all she had to do was follow through on the promise she had made, even if she had been drunk when she made it.

She would try. Because right now, trying felt good.

---

By the time they finally pulled up to the Barton farm the night stretched dark and endless above them, the crisp air biting at their skin as they sat in the now-parked car, momentarily suspended in the stillness. The long drive had taken its toll, and Yelena, despite her seemingly endless stamina, could finally feel the fatigue settling into her bones. She had been running on autopilot for the past few hours, and while she didn’t need sleep right now, she had to admit, it would be nice.

Kate, on the other hand, was buzzing. All traces of her earlier hangover had disappeared, replaced by a restless, excited energy that had her practically vibrating in her seat. Whether it was from the anticipation of seeing Lucky or the residual adrenaline of having a genuinely good time for the first time in what felt like forever, Yelena wasn’t entirely sure. But Kate was practically bouncing, barely waiting for the car to be fully stopped before throwing off her seatbelt and hopping out onto the gravel driveway.

Yelena sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before forcing herself out of the car, moving slower, more measured. The cold hit her immediately, seeping through her jacket, but she ignored it, stretching out her stiff limbs as Kate had already started toward the house.

Before they could even reach the front door, it swung open.

“Kate!” Lila barreled straight into her, arms wrapping around her waist in a forceful hug that nearly knocked Kate back a step. Kate barely had time to react before she was hugging her back, laughing as she lifted Lila off the ground slightly. “Hey! You miss me or something?”

“Duh!” Lila scoffed, squeezing her tighter before pulling away.

The second Kate had room to breathe again, Clint stepped forward, clapping a hand on her shoulder before pulling her into a hug as well. It was warm and familiar, something that Kate hadn’t realised she needed until she was in it.

But before she could fully enjoy the moment, a blur of golden fur came bounding toward her. Kate barely had time to brace herself before Lucky launched into her, paws pressing against her chest as he tackled her to the ground. She hit the dirt with a startled laugh, immediately met with an onslaught of sloppy kisses as Lucky wagged his tail furiously, jumping over her, whining happily, licking every inch of her face he could reach.

“Oh my God, Lucky! I missed you too, bud, okay, I get it—” Kate gasped between laughs, trying to push him back just enough to breathe, but Lucky was determined to smother her with love.

And then, suddenly, she was crying. She hadn’t planned on crying, hadn’t expected it, but the second she felt Lucky’s familiar warmth, the overwhelming affection in every wag of his tail, the pure joy of being reunited the tears just came.

Yelena stood back, watching the entire scene unfold with an unreadable expression. It was… nice, she supposed. Seeing the way she lit up as Lucky practically tried to crawl into her lap, whining and nudging his head against her like he never wanted to let her go. The way Clint and his daughter embraced her so easily, so fully, like she belonged here.

But Yelena? Yelena did not belong here. She could feel it in the way her muscles stayed taut, in the way her fingers twitched toward her weapons despite the clear lack of danger.

This was Clint Barton’s home. The man she had blamed for Natasha’s death. The man she had nearly killed. The man she had hunted down only a couple of weeks ago.

They were friends now, sure and logically, she knew that Clint wasn’t the type to hold grudges. That he had welcomed her into this space because he cared and wanted to. But standing here, on his property, at his home, the place where his family slept? It felt like a trap.

Her training screamed at her to stay alert, to never let her guard down, to anticipate the betrayal before it happened. And Clint being Clint, noticed. He had spent enough time studying Natasha and her moods to know when a widow was not okay.

His sharp eyes flickered toward her, tracking the stiffness in her shoulders, the way her stance hadn’t fully relaxed.

“Yelena,” he said, his voice steady but kind, the same tone he always used when he knew someone was about to bolt. “You don’t have to be so tense. You’re welcome here. Just as much as Kate.”

Yelena barely reacted, her expression carefully blank. But she heard him. Clint gave her a small smile before adding, “You’re my best friend’s sister. She’d want me to treat you like family.”

Yelena’s stomach twisted. She knew he meant it. She knew Natasha would have wanted that. But being wanted, being welcomed, those were still foreign concepts. She had spent so long as a weapon, as a ghost, slipping through the cracks of the world without ever truly being part of it.

And yet, as Clint gestured toward the open door, as the warmth of the house spilled out onto the porch, as Kate finally looked up from the ground, teary-eyed and grinning and smiled at her like she actually wanted her here Yelena decided that maybe she could try. Maybe it was time to be part of something more, because she sure as hell didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone.

Once inside, the warmth of the Barton home wrapped around them, a stark contrast to the biting cold of the night outside. The house smelled familiar, like pine and something subtly spiced, maybe cinnamon, something comforting. It was lived in, full of life, full of family. Kate exhaled softly beside her, already feeling at ease, but Yelena felt like she had just stepped into enemy territory.

Clint took their bags and coats before gesturing for them to follow. Kate already knew where she was going, heading toward her usual guest room on the first floor with the ease of someone who belonged there. Yelena hesitated for just a second before forcing herself forward, keeping her expression neutral as Clint led her further into the house and up the stairs.

Then he stopped in front of a door and Yelena’s stomach twisted before he even spoke. “Now, if this is too much, just tell me…” Clint started, shifting slightly, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that told her he wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to go. “But I figured, since you’re here, you might want to be close to her.”

Yelena’s breath hitched and Clint pushed open the door, stepping aside as she looked past him into the dimly lit room. “This was Nat’s room,” he said gently. “We haven’t changed it since…”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Yelena’s feet refused to move at first, like crossing the threshold would be crossing some kind of line, some boundary she hadn’t prepared herself for.

But then she stepped inside. The air felt thicker in here. Not suffocating, but heavy, weighted with something unspoken, something lingering. The scent of fresh linens and lemon-scented cleaner filled the space, but underneath it, barely there, was something familiar.

Something that made her chest ache.

It was Natasha. It had faded, of course, it had been a long time and scent was always the first thing to disappear, but it was still there, somehow woven into the very fabric of the space a mixture of leather and the floral undertone of her perfume. She could almost see her sister here, curled up in the chair by the window as she read. Could picture her tossing a knife absentmindedly between her hands while she listened to music, her legs kicked up onto the bed like she owned the place.

For a split second, Yelena let herself imagine that if she turned around, Natasha would be standing there, arms crossed, giving her one of those dry, knowing smirks. But she wasn’t and she never would be again. Yelena’s throat tightened, her hands curling into fists at her sides as she tried to keep it together.

Clint cleared his throat, trying to fill the silence. “We, uh…we did change the sheets. Cleaned it up a little before you got here,” he added, almost awkwardly, like he was unsure if she wanted him to leave it untouched or not. “Wanted it to be fresh… you know, since it has been a while.”

She barely heard him. Because there was too much inside her chest, too much grief cramming itself into a space that was already full. And before she could stop it, before she could shove it back down where it belonged, a small, broken sound slipped from her lips.

A whimper.

She clenched her jaw immediately, but it was too late, the crack had already formed. Clint didn’t say anything. Didn’t react beyond a quiet shift in his stance. Clint of course knew better, he knew Yelena would hate herself for that small act of weakness so he ignored it. He just waited.

Yelena swallowed hard, forcing down the sharp, aching lump in her throat before managing, in a voice that barely sounded like her own, “Thank you, Barton.” It was all she could get out.

Clint nodded, and for a second, he looked like he wanted to say something else, something meaningful, something real, but instead, he just reached out and clapped a hand gently on her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, his voice steady, offering her an out. “Kate’s probably already eating me out of house and home.” He smirked slightly, trying to lighten the weight in the room. “You can come down and eat or you can stay, it's your choice.”

Yelena could only manage a stiff nod, her throat too tight to force out any more words. Clint held her gaze for a moment longer, something unspoken passing between them, understanding, maybe, or an attempt at comfort but he didn’t linger. He just gave her a small, knowing nod of his own before stepping back, pulling the door closed behind him with a quiet click.

And then she was alone. Alone in Natasha’s room. The stillness settled over Yelena immediately, thick and suffocating, pressing into her chest like a weight she hadn’t been prepared to carry. She drew in a shaky breath, the first real breath she’d allowed herself since stepping inside, but the air felt thick in her lungs. It hurt. It always hurt.

It was the kind of pain that settled deep, not sharp but aching, curling itself around her ribs and squeezing tight. Because Natasha was here, in the walls, in the air, in the faintest traces of a scent that had almost faded. She was in the memories lingering in every untouched object, in the worn edges of the bookshelf, in the creases of the blankets.

But she was also gone.

Yelena’s hands clenched into fists at her sides as she stood in the centre of the room, her breath coming too fast, too shallow. She searched desperately for something…anything to hold onto, but the reality crashed into her with brutal force. Natasha wasn’t coming back. No matter how many times she tried to pretend otherwise, no matter how tightly she shut her eyes and wished, she would never hear her sister’s voice again.

Her boots felt too heavy, suffocating, so she kicked them off without thinking, moving towards the bed in a daze. She hesitated before sitting, as if the action itself was something sacred, something she wasn’t sure she deserved. But then her knees buckled, and she let herself sink onto the mattress, pulling the covers over her head as she curled in on herself. Her arms wrapped tightly around the pillow, gripping it like a lifeline, and before she even realised it, hot tears were slipping down her cheeks, dampening the fabric.

Yelena cried quietly, always quietly. It was a habit ingrained in her from the Red Room, where weakness was not tolerated, where tears were met with punishment. She had learned early on that crying meant failure, meant vulnerability, meant something that could be exploited. So, she had stopped. For years, she had let the pain settle into her bones instead, silent and unseen. She had learned to bury it, to turn it into something she could live with.

Until Natasha died.

After the Blip, after she came back to a world without her sister, the tears had returned, unwelcome and unrelenting. She had cried more in those months than she had in her entire life, sobbing into hotel pillows, breaking down in empty apartments. And she had hated it. Hated the way it made her feel weak, how it stripped away every ounce of control she had spent years perfecting.

She knew, logically, that it was okay to cry. That it was human. That she would never judge anyone else for it. But when it was her, when the tears were her own, it felt different. It felt pathetic.

And yet, she couldn’t stop. Not here. Not now.

She cried for Natasha. She cried for the sister she would never get back, for the bond they’d shared that had been ripped away. She cried for the years she’d wasted in the Red Room, the years she could have spent with Natasha but never would. And she cried for herself, because, despite everything, she was still here. Still alive. Still holding on to a life that felt so empty without the one person who had been her anchor.

The tears fell for what felt like an eternity, each quiet sob wracking her body, her chest tight with the weight of her grief. She couldn’t stop them, couldn’t silence the ache that consumed her. Her breath hitched in uneven bursts, and she allowed herself to feel the weight of everything she’d been carrying. But eventually, exhaustion set in, her body too tired to keep fighting.

Her sobs quieted, the tears slowing to a trickle, leaving silent tracks on her cheeks. She curled further into herself, the pillow still clutched to her chest, and in the heavy stillness of the room, she finally drifted off to sleep. Her breathing slowed, the tears drying on her face as the world outside faded away, leaving only a haunting emptiness behind her closed eyelids.

---

The next morning, Yelena woke with the remnants of last night’s grief still simmering under the surface, but there was something different today. The weight in her chest hadn’t entirely gone away, the ache of missing Natasha still lingered, but it was quieter now, not quite as suffocating. The tears from the night before had cleared the heaviness, leaving behind a rawness that was easier to breathe through.

She had slept surprisingly well, though. The room, heavy with memories, had pressed in on her as she drifted off, but exhaustion had finally taken hold, and she had slept through the night undisturbed. It wasn’t peaceful, but it was the closest to peace she’d gotten in a long while.

As always, she woke precisely at 5:00 a.m. Her internal clock was as sharp as a blade, a rhythm ingrained into her from years of training, from the missions, from the endless days in the Red Room. No alarm needed. Her body had never learned how to sleep longer than it was told to. She couldn’t stay in bed, no matter how much she wished for the comfort of more sleep. It wasn’t a choice; it was just the way it worked.

But there was something new today. A quiet calm, a stillness in the house that she hadn’t expected to feel. It was strange, this peacefulness that hung in the air, but it gave her a sense of… grounding. Her main thought was on Kate. Kate was safe. At least for now. Safe from herself, safe from the darker impulses she battled, safe in a house full of people who cared for her. Yelena knew Kate wouldn’t do anything drastic here, not with Clint and Laura around, not with the kids, not with this strange warmth that radiated from the Bartons’ home.

Yelena rubbed a hand across her face, the coolness of her palm briefly grounding her, reminding her that there was still time, still moments of clarity between the swirling emotions. She moved to the ensuite bathroom, splashing cold water on her face, letting the chill cut through the remnants of sleep, clearing away the fog that hadn’t quite lifted.

For the first time in a long time, with no widow to save or contract to complete, no immediate crisis to navigate, Yelena found herself with time to simply exist. No immediate pressure, no distractions, just… space. She considered it for a moment, then decided she needed to do something; a run. The cool morning air would help her reset, help clear her head before the day really began. She wasn’t broken anymore, but the edges still felt sharp. Maybe this run would soften them, even if just for a little while.

But as she quietly made her way downstairs, she realised she wasn’t the only one awake. At first, it was just the soft murmur of voices, faint and distant, filtering up from the kitchen. What caught Yelena’s attention, however, was the distinct sound of Kate’s voice. Her voice was quiet, but Yelena could tell Kate was tired. The other voice, the one that followed, Yelena recognised instantly, it belonged to Laura.

Curious, Yelena slowed her steps, moving towards the kitchen as silently as she could manage. She peered around the corner, watching the scene unfold before her. Kate sat at the kitchen island, her shoulders slightly hunched as she leaned over a steaming mug of coffee. Across from her, Laura stood, relaxed but attentive, leaning against the counter with her own cup in hand.

It was a quiet moment, a peaceful moment, but what struck Yelena most was the sight of Kate awake at this hour. She had expected Kate to be exhausted, still recovering from everything that had happened and the long day yesterday. The fact that Kate was here, awake and talking in the early morning, was almost more shocking than anything else. She was supposed to be dead to the world, and yet here she was, present, holding a conversation like everything was normal.

Yelena paused, just out of view. For a brief second, she felt a twinge of hesitation, like she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt. She didn’t quite understand why she hesitated, it wasn’t like she was unwelcome, not exactly. But there was something in the way Kate was talking to Laura, something in the air that made Yelena feel like an outsider. Maybe it was just the quiet, the softness of it all, or maybe it was the simple fact that she was still trying to figure out where she fit in this world.

For a moment, Yelena remained still, her eyes trained on Kate as she sat across from Laura, her voice soft and steady. But her moment of hesitation was interrupted when Laura’s voice cut through the stillness, her sharp eyes catching Yelena’s presence despite her best efforts to remain unnoticed.

“Good morning, honey. Would you like some coffee?” Laura asked, a warm, genuine smile spreading across her face.

Yelena blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden recognition. She hadn’t expected to be seen so easily. She’d thought she had managed to stay hidden, blending into the background. But here Laura was, already aware of her presence.

Before Yelena could even formulate a response, Laura added, her tone teasing but light, “You’re just like your sister. Natasha used to sneak around the house like this too. I’m trained to spot a snooping Widow,” she chuckled, a warm, knowing sound.

Yelena was stunned, her mouth opening slightly in disbelief. She hadn’t expected this. Laura was teasing her, and all Yelena could do was laugh, though she was still processing the fact that she’d been caught in the act of snooping. She hadn’t recovered from the surprise when Laura finished making her coffee and walked toward her with a cup in hand.

“I’m sure you’re aware, but I’m Laura,” she said gently, her smile still soft. “You’re Yelena, I know already. Now go sit.” She nudged Yelena toward the kitchen, her hand guiding her forward with a quiet firmness that left no room for argument.

Yelena obeyed without hesitation, making her way to the kitchen island where Kate was already seated. She sat down next to her, feeling the warmth of the space and the odd comfort of being part of something.

“Morning, Kate Bishop,” Yelena muttered, her voice still a little uncertain as she tried to settle into the normality of it all.

Kate glanced up at her, her tired eyes twinkling with something softer than Yelena was used to seeing. “Morning, Yelena... I don’t know your last name,” Kate said, a laugh escaping her lips. It was light, almost teasing, and yet, it held no malice.

"Belova," Yelena responded, her voice light, offering Kate a gentle smile. “Yelena Belova,” she added, the words slipping from her lips with an ease that surprised even her.

Kate couldn’t help herself, a chuckle escaping her as she leaned back slightly, grinning. "Alright, James Bond," she teased, her voice full of mischief.

Laura joined in, her soft laughter blending with Kate’s. Yelena feigned annoyance, raising an eyebrow, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Ugh, I give you a personal piece of information and you tease me? Forget it, you’ve lost surname privileges,” she huffed dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest as if she were truly offended.

Kate, however, was unfazed, her grin widening. “Too late, Belova. I know it now,” she said with a wink, clearly enjoying the teasing far more than Yelena would have preferred.

Laura glanced between them, her smile soft and knowing, as though she could see something. “You want breakfast, Belova? Yelena Belova?” she teased, the words light and teasing, yet there was something comforting in her tone.

Yelena pouted, a playful frown tugging at her lips. “You’re both being very rude,” she muttered, but there was no real bite behind it, just a sense of something genuine forming between them.

Despite the teasing, despite the way they were poking fun at her, Yelena felt something shift inside her. It wasn’t something she was used to, this kind of camaraderie, this lightness but she liked it. For a brief moment, she felt like she could actually relax. Let her guard down just a little.

“Aww, don’t pout, we’re sorry,” Kate said, her voice dripping with sweetness as she leaned forward, her eyes wide and pleading. “Now, ask for some pancakes because I want some, and she won’t just make them for me, pleeeaaseee,” she begged, giving Yelena her best puppy-dog eyes.

Yelena crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. "You are such a child," she muttered, but the corners of her lips twitched upward despite herself.

Kate grinned, not backing down. “You know you can’t resist. Just think, pancakes, fluffy and golden, covered in syrup, and I’ll even let you have the first one. What do you say?” Her voice was practically sing-song, and she bounced slightly in her seat, almost in a little dance of excitement.

Yelena raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a reluctant smirk. "Laura is not your personal pancake slave, Kate. You have two hands, use them."

Laura, who had been silently observing the exchange from behind the counter, shook her head and chuckled to herself. She couldn’t help but enjoy watching Yelena’s battle with Kate’s antics.

Kate leaned in closer, her desperation increasing. “But I don’t want to! Laura makes amazing pancakes! The best! And you—” She paused for effect, putting a hand on Yelena’s arm, “—you are so good at persuading people to do things. Please, Yelena, I’m starving here!”

Yelena scoffed, a slight smile tugging at her lips despite her best effort to look annoyed. “My skills are for important spy work, not pancakes, Kate.”

“But this is important, Yelena!” Kate wailed dramatically. “I’m so hungry, you don’t understand!”

At this point, Laura’s quiet laughter couldn’t be held back anymore. She turned to Yelena, clearly enjoying the show, and said, “Yelena, you have to learn, if Kate wants something, she will usually get it. Just give in.”

Yelena groaned in mock defeat, rubbing her temples. “Fine, fine.” She turned towards Laura with a resigned expression. “Laura, please, can you make Kate pancakes so she shuts up?”

Laura raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Of course I can. Now Kate, stop whining.” She busied herself pulling out ingredients, clearly entertained by the dynamic unfolding before her.

Kate, instantly thrilled by her victory, launched herself at Yelena in a quick, almost startled hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” she shouted, her voice muffled by Yelena’s shoulder as she practically squeezed the life out of her.

Yelena froze for a moment, stiffening at the unexpected contact. It wasn’t that she minded the hug, it was just...unexpected. A small shiver ran down her spine as she awkwardly patted Kate’s back, trying to placate her. “Get off, Bishop. It’s Laura you should be thanking, not me.”

Kate released her and quickly spun around to thank Laura, but Yelena stayed where she was, feeling her stomach do a small, uncomfortable flip. The brief contact had stirred something inside her, something that felt a little too much for her to ignore. The same feeling that keeps appearing whenever she is around Kate.

As the conversation shifted and Kate and Laura began talking about something completely unrelated, Yelena sat there for a moment, her eyes slightly unfocused, trying to quell the sudden rush of thoughts swirling in her head. It is nothing. Just the weird feeling of being too close to someone, that’s all. She had been around people her whole life, sure, but something about Kate was different.

Her fingers tapped nervously on the edge of the counter, the rhythmic sound barely cutting through the buzz of her thoughts. She tried to focus, to push away the confusion creeping in from every direction. The pancakes were coming, and she wasn’t about to let a simple hug mess with her focus.

Right?

Wrong.

The longer she sat there, watching Kate chatter away with Laura, the more she felt something tightening in her chest. It was subtle at first, just a little flutter of unease, but soon it became undeniable. The way Kate’s smile lit up her face, the way she laughed easily, how effortlessly she moved through the space. Yelena couldn’t look away, and the more she tried to shake it off, the more that feeling gnawed at her insides.

She didn’t understand it. Didn’t know what to do with it. But she felt… flustered. Heat was rising in her chest, spreading to her face, almost like a fever. But it wasn’t a fever. Not physically. It was something else. Something she didn’t know how to name, but that made her feel… uncomfortable. Wrong. Weak.

Yelena was lost in her own thoughts, a whirlpool of confusion that pulled her deeper the more she tried to understand what was happening inside her. She didn't understand what she was feeling, or why. She tried to piece it together by going over the last few days. The image of Kate on that rooftop, her hollow eyes, the way she stood so close to the edge, so dangerously close to ending it all.

Even though Yelena hadn’t really known Kate at the time, there was something inside her, a quiet, inexplicable pull that made her want, no, need, to be near her. That was why she was there, after all. But now, thinking about it, it scared her. It was terrifying to want to be close to someone who, in that moment, had nearly died in the same way Natasha had. Someone who could so easily slip away, leaving her behind…and still could.

That similarity had hit her hard in the moment, but she’d been so focused on Kate, on making sure she didn’t make that jump, that she didn’t let herself process it fully. Now, it was crashing over her, the grief from last night’s quiet in Natasha’s room, the grief that still lingered like a weight on her chest, mixing with the fear of almost losing Kate. It felt like she was drowning.

But what is this feeling? Yelena couldn’t put a name to it, couldn’t quite grasp what it meant. Her first instinct was to call it fear. The fear that she would lose Kate, just like she’d lost Natasha. But Yelena knew fear. She had felt it, understood it, and this wasn’t fear. This... this was something else. It was warm, like a soft pulse beneath her skin, something that made her stomach flutter, something that felt strange and wrong in its own right. She couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t make sense of it, but what she did know was that she needed to get away from it. She needed to run from this, from everything that was suffocating her, clouding her mind, twisting her thoughts into confusion. The pressure was too much. She just needed to escape.

Yelena stood up abruptly, knocking the chair back with a loud scrape. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the sensation suddenly too much to bear. She didn’t know what to do. She had to move. Leave.

“I, uh... I don’t feel well,” she blurted out, the words tumbling out without any real thought behind them. She almost didn’t recognise the sound of her own voice, too soft, too unsure. She moved quickly, her legs shaky as she rushed toward the door, not sparing Kate or Laura a glance. Not even waiting for a response.

She didn’t even realise that she’d made it back to Natasha’s old room until the door closed behind her. The familiar space, now quiet and still, seemed to settle her, at least physically. The heat in her skin faded, but the confusion didn’t.

Her hands shook slightly as she pressed them against her face, trying to steady herself. She breathed in deeply, trying to rid herself of the tightness in her chest. She exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up in her throat, a bitterness she couldn’t shake. What the hell is wrong with me?

But it was the not-knowing that hurt the most. She couldn’t even begin to describe what she was feeling. Is this what weakness feels like? She didn’t have the answers, and the uncertainty made her feel even more lost. She wasn’t used to feeling like this. She had trained herself to ignore anything that made her soft. But now? It was all tangled up in her chest, in her stomach, and no amount of training could fix that.

Frustrated with herself and desperate to clear her mind, Yelena knew she needed to stick to her original plan,her run. The run she was meant to be on before everything had been interrupted by breakfast, Kate, and those stupid, confusing feelings that she couldn’t even begin to name. But as much as she told herself to just push through, she couldn’t bring herself to go back downstairs. She wasn’t ready to face Kate again, not yet, not after everything that had happened. Instead, she slipped quietly out of the window, the cool morning air rushing to meet her like an old, familiar friend. She needed the solitude, the space to sort through her thoughts, to put some distance between herself and whatever the hell was going on inside her right now.

She ran, pushing herself harder than usual, the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the earth becoming a way to silence the questions spinning in her mind. The exhaustion in her body felt like relief, each step carrying her farther from the house, from the confusing moment in the kitchen.

Time seemed to stretch. She ran for a while, letting the landscape change as she moved, the soft morning light shifting to brighter afternoon hues. Finally, she came to a clearing, a breathtaking sight that made her pause for a moment. The area was serene, with a small waterfall cascading down the rocks nearby, its sound calming and natural. A little campfire area had been set up ready to be lit, and there was natural cover that offered shelter from the open sky.

Yelena slowed, finally allowing herself a moment to rest. She sank down onto the ground, her body grateful for the brief reprieve as she drew deep, steadying breaths, the weight of her exertion pressing down on her muscles. For a moment, the frantic pace of her thoughts eased, the clarity she’d been craving seeping in. Yet, as her mind quieted, she couldn’t ignore the harsh truth that hung over her, she still had to get back.

A part of her longed to leave, to return to the world of missions, of saving the widows, where things were simpler. There, she didn’t have to grapple with these strange, unfamiliar feelings that tugged at her chest. The mission was clear, plan, gear up, execute, and move on. There was no space for emotions in that life, no room for complications.

But then the other part of her, the part that refused to break promises, reminded her that she’d made a vow to Kate. She wasn’t one to go back on her word. So, despite the chaos in her mind, she pushed herself to her feet, her resolve hardening. She wasn’t going to quit, not now, not when she had made a promise. With that, she began to run again, every step taking her further away from doubt, even as her thoughts remained a tangled mess.

----

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Kate watched as Yelena quickly exited the room, her departure leaving a confusing silence in her wake. Kate stared after her, unsure of what had just happened. Her thoughts spiralled but nothing made sense. The panic set in quickly, a wave of heat rushing to her face. She dropped her head into her hands, desperate to make sense of it all.

Laura watched the whole thing unfold, a soft, understanding smile playing at the corners of her lips as Kate mentally spiralled. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Laura spoke up, her voice calm and reassuring. “Honey, stop stressing. If she’s anything like Nat, she’ll be triggered by random things, and it’s hard to know what will set her off.”

Kate lifted her head, her mind racing as she processed the words. She looked at Laura, a mixture of frustration and uncertainty on her face. “But if I don’t know what I did, how am I supposed to avoid it next time?” Kate’s voice was almost desperate, the fear of not knowing weighing on her heavily.

Laura shrugged, a knowing look in her eyes. “Look, it takes a long time for a Widow to open up. But, Yelena seems less closed off than Nat was, she will let you in when she is ready.”

Kate nodded slowly, grateful for that small piece of reassurance, but the anxiety still simmered beneath the surface. “I mean, that’s a positive. The thing is, I literally know nothing about her. And she comes, and she saves me, and…”

Before Kate could finish, Laura cut her off, her concern suddenly shifting into something more immediate, more pressing. “Saved you from what? Did someone come after you when you got home? Are you safe? Do we need to send Clint back out there?” Laura’s voice was laced with panic, her questions coming in quick succession as her motherly instinct kicked in.

Kate’s eyes widened in shock. She had assumed Yelena had told Clint what had happened, and that Laura would know, but it was clear she hadn’t. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Uh… no, no one came after me. I’m safe,” she said, avoiding eye contact, the weight of the truth still sitting uncomfortably in her chest.

Laura looked at her carefully, her concern deepening. “Then what did she save you from?” Her tone was gentle, yet there was something in it that suggested she already had an inkling, even if she didn’t fully know.

Kate sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging with the weight of the confession she knew she needed to make. “I… I was gonna do something dumb,” she said quietly, still avoiding Laura’s gaze. “She was there, and it’s fine now.”

Laura’s expression hardened slightly, her motherly instincts kicking in full force. “Katherine Elizabeth Bishop,” she said, her tone shifting to one Kate knew all too well. “Tell me right now what this ‘dumb’ thing was, because with you, that could literally mean anything.”

Kate winced at her full name, but the words rushed out before she could stop them. “I was gonna jump, okay? From the penthouse roof. It’s why I left Lucky here,” she admitted, her voice cracking as tears began to fall.

The words hit Laura like a physical blow. Her heart shattered for Kate as she pulled the younger woman into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around her in an effort to shield her from everything she had been carrying. Kate just cried, unable to speak, her tears soaking into Laura’s shoulder.

“Oh, honey, why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you talk to me? You know I’m here for you!” Laura’s voice trembled as she held Kate tighter. “I knew it. I told Clint it was strange that you were leaving Lucky here. That you stopped responding to your texts! I told him! I’m so sorry we let you leave. We should never have let you go!”

Laura’s tears fell freely now, her heart aching for Kate. Despite only knowing her for a short time, Laura had come to see Kate as one of her own. The thought of her suffering in silence, of not being able to be there for her tore at Laura’s heart.

Kate clung to Laura, her body trembling as the tears continued to flow, her sobs raw and unrestrained. “I’m sorry,” she wailed, her voice choked with emotion. “I just... I couldn’t take it anymore, Laura.” Her heart pounded in her chest, every sob a painful reminder of how close she had come to ending it all. The weight of everything she had kept hidden felt like it was finally being released, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

For a moment, Laura held her tighter, her own tears falling as she whispered comforting words, but then a noise from upstairs broke the moment. It was faint, but unmistakable, someone else was awake. Kate’s head snapped up at the sound, and she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now 6:30 a.m., and she knew that Clint and the others would likely be up soon. The thought of facing them, of pretending everything was okay, made her stomach twist. She had spent the morning pushing everything down, hiding behind her jokes, and her well-crafted persona, but after admitting what happened to Laura she couldn’t fact it, so like Yelena, she ran.

She quickly pulled away from Laura, wiping frantically at her face, trying to get a grip on herself. “I’m gonna go shower,” she said, her voice shaky but determined. She turned and moved swiftly towards the door, not waiting for a response.

“Kate!” Laura called after her, but Kate didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She couldn’t face anyone right now, not when everything inside her felt like it was falling apart.

Before Laura could say another word, Kate was already gone, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she fled the room, the weight of everything she had just shared still pressing on her chest.

Kate silently thanked whatever god was looking out for her that Clint had made every room in the house with its own ensuite. The small blessing was the only thing that kept her going as she stood under the shower. The soothing rhythm of the water did nothing to help; her mood had crashed harder than she ever expected.

The fleeting peace she'd felt earlier was now gone, replaced by a heaviness that clung to her chest. She felt drained, broken, as though the weight of everything she’d been carrying had suddenly caught up with her. She wanted to go back to bed, bury herself under the covers, and never face another day, but she knew that wasn’t an option.

She dragged herself out of the shower, barely registering the movements as she changed into comfortable clothes. She collapsed onto the bed, hoping sleep would come and offer her an escape, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. The thoughts swirled around her head like a whirlpool, and no matter how hard she tried to push them away, one name kept resurfacing: Yelena.

She must have lay there for over an hour, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with herself until she finally gave up. With a sigh, she got up, her feet carrying her upstairs, toward the floor where Yelena was staying. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for, but her gut told her she couldn’t just leave things the way they were.

Kate knocked softly at Yelena’s door, the sound tentative but full of hope, waiting for some response, any response but there was nothing. Just silence. It was unnerving, an oppressive quietness that seemed to settle into her chest, making her feel as though she was suffocating. She pressed her ear to the door, but there was no sound. Nothing to tell her that Yelena was even there.

“Yelena, please speak to me,” Kate said, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation. She knocked again, louder this time, hoping to break the stillness. Still, there was nothing. Not a creak of movement, not a rustle of fabric, nothing.

Her frustration built, like an insistent pressure in her chest. “I’m gonna come in if you don’t respond this time,” she said, her voice firm but still trembling at the edges, betraying the worry that had taken root in her. She knocked again, her knuckles sounding too loud in the stillness of the hallway. No answer.

With a sigh, Kate’s patience slipped away, replaced by fear and an overwhelming sense of helplessness. She didn’t wait any longer. Taking a deep breath, her hand reached for the doorknob, gripping it with a mixture of hope and dread. She turned it slowly, the faint click of the door echoing in her ears as her heart began to race.

The door opened, and Kate stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the empty room. A cold rush of panic flooded through her, the room felt wrong, empty in a way that sent a chill down her spine. There was no sign of Yelena. But then, her eyes landed on the open window, the sight so jarring, her chest constricting.

Her heart pounded in her ears, her body frozen in place for a moment, as if the world had just tilted on its axis. The feeling of being abandoned, of being left alone, crashed down on her with brutal force. Her breath hitched in her throat as the tears she had been holding back started to fall, her knees buckling beneath her as the overwhelming pain of loss consumed her.

She left me.

The thought echoed in her head, over and over, relentless. Yelena had promised, promised she wouldn’t leave, and yet here she was… gone. The one person who had made her feel like she wasn’t invisible, who had kept her grounded, had disappeared without a word. The ache in her chest grew, a suffocating weight that threatened to swallow her whole.

Kate collapsed to the floor, her sobs shaking her entire body, her chest tightening as the tears poured uncontrollably. She wept with the rawness of someone who had just been torn apart. She cried until her body could no longer keep up, until exhaustion robbed her of the energy to do anything but surrender to the numbness. The tears slowed, and in the eerie quiet that followed, Kate curled up on the cold floor as sleep claimed her.

Outside, Yelena moved like a shadow, silently making her way back to the house. She climbed the side of the building with practised ease, her mind still swirling with confusion and emotions she couldn’t comprehend. She had gone for a run, a desperate attempt to escape the storm inside her, but now, something felt wrong. She could feel it.

Slipping back through the window she had left from earlier, Yelena’s heart stopped when she saw Kate. Her form was crumpled on the floor, curled in on herself like she was trying to make herself smaller, her face a swollen mess of sorrow. Dry tear tracks stained her cheeks, the evidence of the pain she was carrying. The sight of her like that shattered Yelena’s heart, the weight of helplessness pressing down on her chest like a vice.

Without a second thought, Yelena rushed to Kate’s side, her hands trembling as she gently lifted her into her arms. “Kate? Kate?” she called out, her voice laced with panic. She held Kate close, trying to steady herself as much as she was trying to steady Kate, her heartbeat erratic in her chest.

Kate blinked slowly, her eyes struggling to focus, the fog of sleep and pain clouding her vision. It took a moment before she recognised Yelena, her voice barely a whisper. “Lena?” she asked, thick with tears and confusion, her voice cracked and hoarse.

Yelena’s chest tightened at the new nickname, but the worry in her eyes took over any other feeling. “Kate, what happened? Why did you cry? Why are you on the floor?” Her voice was soft now, a whisper of concern as she gently ran her hand through Kate’s tangled hair.

Kate’s tears flowed again. “You left... you promised you wouldn’t,” she sobbed, her body trembling violently against Yelena’s chest, the words breaking her heart into pieces.

Yelena felt her heart splinter at the sound of Kate’s pain. Her own voice cracked as she whispered, “I went for a run,” her words tinged with guilt. “I told you I am not leaving, Kate”. She tightened her hold on Kate, as though the simple act of holding her would shield Kate from the fear, the confusion, the hurt that was flooding both of them. “I’m here,” Yelena continued, her voice shaking. “I’m not going anywhere. I swear.”

Kate’s sobs only intensified, and Yelena could feel her heart breaking even further. The vulnerability in Kate’s voice, the hurt, was almost too much to bear. Yelena held her even tighter, trying to offer what little comfort she could. “I made a promise, and I intend to keep it, Kate Bishop,” she said softly, leaning down to kiss the side of Kate’s head.

It was an instinctual move, one Yelena didn’t think about before doing it. The warmth of the gesture didn’t make her panic as she expected. Instead, something inside her softened, a quiet peace flowing through her, and she was surprised at how right it felt.

Kate didn’t react immediately, but she did snuggle closer, her body seeking warmth and reassurance. Yelena didn’t pull away, letting Kate come to her in the way she needed. After a moment, Kate spoke, her voice trembling. “I saw the window... I thought... thought you left. What did I do wrong, Lena?”

Yelena was taken aback, the words catching in her throat. She didn’t know how to answer, how to make this better. All she could say was, “You did nothing wrong.” Her words were simple but heavy with sincerity.

“Then why did you leave?” Kate asked, the vulnerability in her voice almost too much for Yelena to handle.

Yelena closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I... I don’t know. I just... felt odd…I am not used to feeling….well anything…I needed space,” she admitted, her voice small, the words tasting strange as they left her mouth.

Kate looked up at her, her expression soft, genuine. “Well, what got you feeling odd? Is it something I did? Is there something I can do to avoid that in the future?”

Yelena shook her head, her smile small but warm. “You are too kind for your own good, Little Hawk. It was nothing, please stop worrying, okay?” she said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Kate’s forehead.

Kate smiled, a teasing glint returning to her eyes. “Little Hawk?” she asked, the words almost a playful challenge.

Yelena blushed slightly, trying to play it off, her voice nonchalant. “Mhm, you’re the baby Hawkeye, no? Little Hawk sounds better,” she said, though the softness in her tone betrayed her.

Kate laughed, a soft huff of amusement escaping her lips. “I will have you know, I’m just Hawkeye. He gave me the name fair and square,” she said, her voice a mix of pride and teasing.

Yelena chuckled, shaking her head. “Maybe so, and to everyone else, you can be Hawkeye, but you’re Little Hawk to me. Deal?” she said before she even realised what she had said.

Kate blinked, the words lingering in the air, and for a brief moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Kate’s smile softened, the playful teasing fading into something warmer. “Deal,” she said, her voice steady and sure, but with a quiet understanding that hung between them.

They sat there on the floor in silence, the weight of the moment hanging between them. Kate had nestled herself against Yelena, her body curled up on top of hers, resting against her chest. For a long time, neither of them said anything, just the sound of steady breathing filling the space, as though neither of them wanted to break the fragile comfort that had settled around them. Yelena could feel Kate’s warmth against her, the soft rhythm of her breath, and it made her heart ache in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Finally, Yelena broke the silence, her voice gentle but with a hint of teasing. “Come on, Bishop. This floor is not comfortable,” she said, shifting slightly as she began to nudge Kate upwards.

Kate huffed, clearly not eager to move, but she couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at her lips. “I mean, I was comfortable,” she grumbled, but despite her protests, she shifted herself off Yelena’s chest.

Yelena couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “I’m sorry to ruin your comfort, Your Majesty, but there are perfectly good beds to sleep in.” She gestured offhandedly towards her own bed, her tone light, but there was something unspoken in the way she said it, as though the suggestion lingered in the air longer than necessary.

Kate smirked, her eyes narrowing with playful curiosity. “Are you offering to sleep with me, Miss Belova?” she teased, her voice laced with mock innocence.

Yelena laughed, the sound bubbling out of her more freely than she had expected. “You wish,” she replied, a wink escaping her lips before she could stop herself. But even as she said it, her body betrayed her. She felt a warmth spread across her chest at the thought, a fleeting surge of heat that she quickly pushed down.

Kate, however, seemed oblivious to the way her words had made Yelena’s pulse quicken. She just chuckled, an easy smile on her face, and got to her feet. Yelena watched her, trying to pretend that the heat in her cheeks wasn’t noticeable, trying to focus on the easy banter between them instead of the strange fluttering feeling that still lingered in her chest.

---

Rather than actually going to bed, they both made their way downstairs. By now, it was already nearly noon, and breakfast had long passed. The kids were still home, enjoying their holiday break from school, Nathaniel, Lila, and Cooper were sprawled out in the living room, their attention fully absorbed in a game of Mario Kart on the Switch. Clint and Laura were sitting at the kitchen island, watching the kids with relaxed expressions, enjoying the chaos of it all. The open-plan layout of the house allowed them to keep an eye on everything from their spot at the counter, and the casual hum of family life filled the space.

Kate and Yelena moved past the kids, Kate's need for a coffee driving them towards the kitchen. She was running on fumes, emotionally and physically drained, and the only thing that could help her function right now was the promise of something warm and caffeinated.

As they entered the kitchen, Laura and Clint looked up, greeting them with friendly smiles. Clint’s gaze lingered on Kate for a moment longer than necessary, and she felt a small pang in her chest. He gave her a look, one that was full of understanding, of quiet concern. It was a look that told her he knew something had been wrong, knew that she had been crying.

Kate quickly shifted her gaze to Laura, and the brief exchange between them was enough to reassure Kate. Laura gave a subtle shake of her head, her silent message clear: I haven’t told Clint anything yet.

Kate exhaled quietly, relieved, but she wasn’t sure why. There was no reason to hide it from Clint, but for some reason, she wasn’t ready for him to know. Not yet.

Clint broke the silence with a casual smile, leaning back slightly. “What’s up, kiddo?” His voice was light, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the subtle back-and-forth between Kate and Laura.

Kate shrugged, trying to mask the rawness in her voice with a playful tone. “Uh, not much, old man. How’s your morning?” She smiled at him, the hoarseness of her voice still betraying her, but the light in her eyes was back, brighter than before. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“All good!” Clint said with a lighthearted smile, but he lingered on Kate, his gaze softening with concern. “Did you sleep well? How are the nightmares?” he asked gently, his voice quieter now, as though he was trying to navigate around something delicate.

For fuck’s sake, Kate thought to herself. She had purposefully lied to Yelena, telling her she didn’t have nightmares so that Yelena wouldn’t think she was weak. And now Clint had just exposed her secret, pulling it out into the open without warning.

“Nightmares, Kate Bishop?” Yelena’s voice cut through the moment, her eyebrow raised as she shot Kate a knowing look. “What happened to you not having them?” she teased because of course Yelena would call her out like that.

Kate couldn’t meet her gaze, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. “I… uh… fine. Yes, I have them,” she mumbled, her voice dropping. “I just didn’t want you to think I was weak or childish or whatever.”

Yelena’s eyes softened slightly, but she didn’t back away from her teasing. “You are not the only one who has nightmares, Kate,” she said, her tone unreadable. Kate wasn’t sure if that was a hint that Yelena had them too, or if she was simply trying to comfort her, trying to make her feel less alone in it.

Clint chimed in, his voice steady, the concern still present but softened by the years of experience in this family. “Exactly, kiddo. No need to be embarrassed.”

Kate huffed, feeling the heat in her cheeks. She shrugged it off, trying to downplay the vulnerability that still hung in the air. “Yeah, whatever. I had a nightmare, but I got up and Laura was awake, and we had coffee, and it was fine,” she said, her tone dismissive but with a touch of forced lightness.

“Laura is the best at comforting after nightmares,” Clint said with a proud smile, his eyes shining as he looked over at his wife.

Laura smiled back, the easy warmth in her expression unmistakable. “Had a lot of practice. Between you, Nat, and the kids? It was pretty much never-ending,” she joked lightly, her voice full of affection.

But Yelena’s attention snapped to her at that. “Natasha had nightmares?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, the question more vulnerable than she intended. This was yet another thing about her sister that she didn't know and that hurt more than she could even explain.

Clint nodded, his face softening as he glanced at Yelena. “When she first got out of the Red Room, the nightmares were bad, yeah. She would scream, cry, sometimes even wake up not knowing where she was.” He took a slow breath, his gaze flicking to Yelena, almost as if he was reading her. “But it got better over time. I know she still had them from time to time, even later on, but she wasn’t plagued by them like she was.”

Yelena nodded, her face carefully controlled, but something flickered in her eyes, something Kate couldn’t quite place. Kate glanced at her, trying to read the expression on her face, but it was no use. Yelena’s mask was firmly in place.

“Well, I hope mine go away,” Kate said, her voice a little shakier than she intended as she tried to lighten the mood. “Being afraid to sleep isn’t fun. I’m fucking tired,” she added with a half-laugh, hoping the joke would ease the tension, even if just a little.

Her attempt to deflect with humour wasn’t completely successful, but at least it gave the conversation a shift. Everyone in the room seemed to understand her need to downplay it, even if it was clear the subject still weighed heavily on her.

Kate and Yelena spent the rest of the afternoon talking with Clint and Laura, the conversation shifting between lighter topics as everyone tried to get to know Yelena better. Yelena, though still unsure about who she truly was, did her best to answer their questions honestly, even when the answers didn’t come easily. The more they spoke, the more questions shifted to others, and Yelena found herself learning about Kate in return. She loved hearing the stories, the little details about Kate’s life, and it seemed Kate enjoyed sharing them just as much.

Kate’s smile slowly returned, her usual spark reigniting, as if the weight she had been carrying had finally lifted, even if just for a little while. Her energy was higher now, brighter, and she seemed more like herself, relaxed, happy, content. The warmth was back in her eyes, and there was a playful glint to her that had been absent earlier. She wasn’t carrying the same heaviness anymore, at least not in this moment.

Yelena, for her part, seemed to have pushed aside whatever internal turmoil she was dealing with, choosing to ignore it in favour of the back-and-forth banter she had with Kate. They fell back into their usual rhythm, teasing each other, making jokes. Yelena frequently took jabs at Clint, who would roll his eyes in mock indignation, but Kate would howl with laughter at each one, even if the joke was borderline ridiculous. Yelena’s deadpan delivery only made it more amusing to her.

Laura watched the two of them, her expression a mixture of amusement and knowing. There was a subtle, unspoken connection between Kate and Yelena, something that seemed to pulse between them every time their eyes met. Every so often, they would get lost in one another, their focus drifting, as if the rest of the world faded away for just a second. Then, as if snapped back to reality, they would redirect their attention to Clint and Laura, but the undercurrent of something deeper still lingered in the air, unnoticed by either of them.

Laura raised an eyebrow as she glanced between them, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She had seen this before, this quiet, budding connection and she wasn’t blind to the way the two of them seemed to fit together, even if neither of them had fully realised it yet.

---

The hours passed quickly, and before long, dinner was served. Afterwards, Lila insisted that Kate take her outside to practice archery. Kate agreed eagerly, happy to have something active to focus on. Clint joined them, and the three of them, with Lucky tagging along to chase after the arrows, headed outside, the excitement palpable. Nathaniel and Cooper, however, were content to return to their video games, leaving the rest of the house filled with a more peaceful energy.

But Laura had other plans. With a quiet purpose behind her calm demeanour, she pulled Yelena aside, her smile warm but with an edge of something unreadable. "Can we speak?" she asked, her voice soft but firm.

Yelena's heart skipped a beat. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what this conversation could be about. There was a hint of unease that she couldn't shake, a flutter in her chest that she couldn't quite place. She schooled her expression, hiding the rush of emotions threatening to show. With a stiff nod, she followed Laura into the next room, her footsteps more hesitant than she cared to admit.

"What's up?" Yelena asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but her gaze lingered on Laura’s for a moment longer than she intended, a silent challenge hiding in the depths of her eyes.

Laura didn’t answer right away. She simply smiled, that soft, knowing smile that always made Yelena feel like she was being seen in ways she wasn’t prepared for. "Nothing’s up, honey," Laura replied, her voice smooth, but with a quiet weight beneath it. "I just thought we could have a little chat."

Yelena's pulse quickened, but she didn't show it. Instead, she watched as Laura moved toward a cabinet, opening it with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times. Laura pulled out a bottle of fancy Russian vodka, the label nearly identical to the ones Yelena had seen back home. She poured two glasses with a practised hand, the liquid glinting in the soft light.

Yelena raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued, and a tiny knot of anxiety settled in her stomach. "Why are you trying to get me drunk, Mama Barton?" she teased, her voice light, but the undercurrent of tension was still there, no matter how much she tried to mask it. The nickname had started as a tease earlier in the day but it felt right, and Laura seemed to like it too, so it stuck. But right now, Yelena wasn’t sure how much of this conversation was lighthearted and how much of it was serious.

Laura chuckled, the sound airy and warm. "I’m not trying to get you drunk, I just thought it might help with the next question I’m going to ask." Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling with a glint that sent an unexpected shiver down Yelena’s spine. There was something else there, something that made Yelena instinctively brace herself.

She didn’t have time to respond before Laura handed her the drink, and she threw it back in one go, bracing herself for whatever was coming next. She took a breath once she had swallowed before muttering, "go on…" her voice steady but betraying the nerves she was trying to mask.

Laura chuckled softly, mirroring Yelena's movements as she took a sip from her glass, the familiar warmth of the vodka momentarily grounding them both. But then, just as quickly, the atmosphere shifted. The smile remained on Laura’s lips, but something more serious crept into her gaze, a quiet intensity that immediately put Yelena on edge.

"Do you have feelings for Kate?" Laura’s question hung in the air like an anchor, settling heavily between them, demanding an answer that Yelena wasn’t ready to give.

Yelena froze, the glass almost slipping from her hand as Laura’s words slammed into her with the force of a punch. It was like the room around her tilted, spinning out of control, the air thick with the weight of her unspoken thoughts. Her mind went blank for a moment, scrambling to latch onto something, anything, to say in response. She wanted to say something, anything, but all she could do was stare at Laura, her heart pounding in her chest.

Do I have feelings for Kate? The thought hit her like a tonne of bricks. She certainly felt something when she was around Kate, the ache in her chest, the flutter in her stomach, the warmth that spread through her veins whenever their eyes met. But were those the feelings?

No. Those kinds of feelings had been trained out of her, buried deep in the dark corners of her mind. Widows weren’t allowed to feel, to love. They couldn’t form bonds, not in the way others could. Those things were weaknesses, things that could get you killed. Love was a distant memory, something that felt like a story told by someone else.

Or was it?

The question lingered, refusing to be shaken off. Could I have feelings for Kate? Could a widow feel something like love? All those moments, the worry, the care, the protectiveness, the way her heart twisted whenever Kate was in pain. It made sense, the strange pull she felt, the desire to be near Kate, to be part of her life. The doubt gnawed at her, the uncertainty curling up inside her like a snake in the grass. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid of the answer or afraid of what it might mean.

But the silence between them stretched on, and Laura was waiting, watching her closely, her expression soft but expectant. Yelena’s mind raced, but her mouth couldn’t form the words. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face what that answer might be.

"I... uh... no, what makes you think that?" Yelena stuttered out, the words tumbling from her mouth in a way that felt utterly foreign to her, like she was suddenly stripped of the composure that had always come so easily.

Laura smiled knowingly, a gentle curve to her lips, as if she’d been waiting for this moment all along. "Well, first you spend days going to her penthouse to find her. Then, when you do, you save her from... well, you know," she said, her voice soft, but with an underlying weight to it. She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing, her eyes never leaving Yelena. "Then you go out of your way to come here, and I know that was big for you. And finally, I see you, sneaking glances, your eyes warming from that cold stare you put on, softening when you look at her. There is something, Yelena. I know there is."

Despite the warmth that seemed to burn in her chest whenever Kate was near, and the copious evidence that she did in fact feel for Kate, Yelena forced herself to suppress it.

"No, Laura," she said firmly, her voice surprisingly steady. The words felt wrong on her tongue, but she forced them out, determined to convince herself. "I am incapable of those sorts of feelings. They were trained out of us. She is my friend."

The words came out with more conviction than she felt, a defence mechanism, but even as she said them, a part of her, a small, oh-so-frightened part questioned whether she was lying to herself.

Laura smiled softly, her eyes filled with something akin to wistfulness. “Wow, every time you speak, you’re more and more like Nat. I know you two weren’t blood, but you’re definitely sisters,” she said with a warmth in her voice that Yelena wasn’t used to hearing.

Yelena looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone uncertain, the words hanging between them like an unfamiliar weight.

Laura sighed, her smile fading as she leaned back slightly, her posture shifting, as though the weight of the words she was about to say was heavy on her shoulders. She stared ahead for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking, as though gathering herself. "Well, Natasha..." She paused, her voice softening, taking on a reflective tone. "She loved someone. A woman named Wanda."

There was a faint tremor in Laura's voice as she spoke the name, as though the memory of it pained her. "Wanda definitely felt the same, at least at first," she continued, her words deliberate, but her eyes now glistening with the remnants of old memories. She swallowed before pushing forward, the story spilling out even though it clearly hurt. "But Nat convinced herself for so long that it wasn’t love. She told herself it was just admiration for Wanda’s power, that it was... just friendship." Laura let out a shaky breath, her hand brushing her forehead as she tried to steady herself.

Her gaze shifted, focusing on Yelena, and her expression softened with understanding. "Like you, Yelena. She thought she was incapable of love, romance, of anything like that." There was a quiet sadness in her eyes as she spoke, and her voice cracked with the weight of knowing Natasha’s struggle. "But when she finally realised the truth, it was way too late."

Yelena froze. This was yet another thing that she did not know about her sister. The more she learned the more she realised she had known so little about her sister, so little about the life she had led before she died for her. She wished she had known more, had the time to ask the right questions. She wished she could have understood her better.

“What happened? Why was it too late?” Yelena asked, her voice thick with emotion, the pain she felt in the moment almost too much to bear.

Laura took a slow breath, her eyes misting as she recalled the painful memory. “It was years, Yelena. Wanda moved on. The Avengers split up, and Wanda went with Vision. By the time they finally saw each other again, Nat was determined to tell her the truth, to admit it all. But then Wanda was blipped…” Laura paused, her throat tightening as she fought to hold back the tears. “And then, of course, to bring all of us who were blipped back, Natasha died. She never got the chance.”

Yelena stood there, her chest tight with grief and the weight of the information she had just learned. Natasha had died with that regret, with that unspoken truth between her and Wanda. She didn’t get to fix it. Yelena’s eyes burned as the tears threatened to spill, but she held them back, forcing her voice to stay steady, though it cracked when she spoke.

“I hate her,” Yelena whispered, her voice barely audible. “I hate her for being so selfish, for leaving us all. But I love her for being so brave. I wish she didn’t have to die for us.”

A single tear slid down Yelena’s cheek, the weight of it impossible to stop. She had lost Natasha, and now she was realising how much she had never known about her, how much she would never get the chance to understand. The loss, the regret, the missed moments, it was all too much to carry in this moment.

“Oh, honey, I know,” Laura said, her voice thick with her own sorrow. “I feel the same. She was my best friend.” Laura’s tone softened as she reached out, her hand gently resting on Yelena’s arm. “But you need to take her mistake and learn from it, Yelena. Don’t hide from it. Let yourself feel. Go with it. Because the Red Room didn’t take that away from you, and you don’t want it to end up too late, okay?”

Yelena looked at Laura, her chest tightening as the weight of her emotions pressed down on her. For a moment, she was frozen, the rawness of it all making it hard to breathe. The tears she’d been fighting began to spill, but this time she didn’t try to hold them back. She let them fall, her body trembling with the release. Laura’s words settled in her heart, their impact subtle yet profound.

“I don’t even know where to start, Laura,” Yelena admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. Her words felt heavy as they left her lips, the fear and uncertainty that had been growing inside of her now spilling out. She was used to being strong, composed, detached, but here, in this moment, she didn’t know how to be any of that.

Laura nodded, her eyes softening as she listened. “Honestly, just be there. From what I can see, Kate feels the same, but with her current mental state… I don’t actually know what’s going through her mind,” Laura confessed, her voice quiet, almost like she was thinking aloud.

Yelena felt a pang of something unfamiliar at Laura’s words. The idea that Kate might feel the same, that there was a chance of something more between them was both a comfort and a terror. Yelena had built walls so high she didn’t know how to let them down. But with Kate? There was a pull she couldn’t ignore, a need to be close, to protect her, to be part of her life in a way that went beyond anything she understood.

"I don’t think I’m right for her, not in that way, for sure," Yelena said, her voice shaking with uncertainty. "We’re not even there yet, and I made her cry earlier…" Her words were barely a whisper, filled with self-doubt. The thought of hurting Kate, of making her feel alone again, twisted something deep inside Yelena.

“Why? What did you do?” Laura’s voice was a little sterner this time, the concern in her eyes shifting to something more protective, but still, there was an understanding there.

Yelena flinched slightly at the sharpness in Laura’s voice, but the guilt she felt was enough to make her answer. “She must’ve come to find me after I left the kitchen. But I had gone for a run… I came back, and she was curled up on Natasha’s floor, asleep, but she’d been crying,” Yelena said, her voice breaking on the last words. She hated that she had hurt Kate, hated that she hadn’t been there when Kate needed her.

Laura’s expression softened immediately. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just absorbed what Yelena had said, her gaze understanding yet full of concern. “She was upset you left?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Yelena nodded, her throat tight as the weight of the situation pressed down on her. “She said I promised I wouldn’t leave, and I did,” Yelena admitted, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. The promise she’d made, the one she hadn’t kept, echoed in her mind like a constant reminder of how fragile this all was.

“Well, that tells me she wants you around," Laura said, her tone lightening slightly, but there was something deeper in her words. "She feels safe and happy with you. I don’t think that’s a reason to not try this,” she said gently, her eyes filled with a quiet hope.

Yelena’s breath hitched in her chest as she let out a long, heavy sigh. The weight of everything she had been feeling was suffocating, and it was like her chest couldn’t handle it anymore. The uncertainty, the fear, the confusion, it was all tangled together in a knot that she couldn’t untangle. She was scared, the fear of not knowing how to navigate something so foreign to her, something so vulnerable.

“I don’t want to make her worse,” Yelena whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her own words as they hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. “I don’t know how to do relationships... I don’t even understand my feelings, not until you said what it was, and then it just clicked. I hadn’t even figured it out before that. I’ve been trying to understand it... That’s why I had to run earlier.”

Her words felt like they left her body in a rush, as though once she started, she couldn’t stop herself. She wasn’t used to being so vulnerable, but something about being here, with Laura, made her feel like she could finally let her guard down. It was unsettling in a way, but there was a deep sense of safety in it too.

Laura stayed quiet for a moment, watching Yelena carefully. She could see the cracks in her usual armour, the way her eyes flickered with something vulnerable that Yelena wasn’t used to showing.

Finally, Laura spoke, her voice gentle but firm, the kind of calm assurance that could steady anyone in the midst of their storm. “Yelena, it’s okay to be scared,” she said, her eyes soft with understanding. “None of us have all the answers. You don’t have to figure everything out right now. You’ve been through things that most people could never imagine, and it’s okay if you don’t have all the pieces to this puzzle yet.”

She took a step closer, her expression warm and unwavering. “But not everyone has a bond as easy as you and Kate. That connection between you two? It was practically formed in minutes. Please, for the love of God, just try. And if it fails, you let me know, and we’ll look after you both. Deal?”

Yelena looked at her, her heart thumping in her chest. There was a quiet understanding between them now, one that felt fragile but real. Laura wasn’t asking for perfection, just for Yelena to try, to take a chance on something that could make such a huge difference. The pressure in her chest eased slightly, but the uncertainty still lingered.

Yelena smiled faintly, feeling a warmth she hadn’t allowed herself to feel ever. “Deal,” she said, her voice steady even if her heart was still a bit uncertain. The promise felt small, but in that moment, it was enough.

---

Well! They’re so painfully clueless it’s almost embarrassing, but hey, we’ve finally got some kindling on that slow burn huh?

In the next chapter, Yelena might finally make her move, with a little help from Mama Barton, of course. There will be some conversations, and who knows? The fire could finally start burning...just a little.

Part 3 will be linked here when posted.

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