Yelena
As soon as she heard that Kate would be okay, Yelena felt like she was being turned inside out. She’d been on edge for weeks, months, and now all the pain and worry were crashing down around her. Eventually it all became too much and she dragged herself to the kitchen to pull the bottle of vodka from the freezer. She pulled a row of glasses from the cabinet and filled each one. The first round felt like nothing, thrown back in quick succession. The second round finally took the edge off, and Yelena slowed down. Finally she grabbed just one glass and the bottle and headed for the couch.
Setting the glass and bottle on a table she fell onto the couch, head in her hands. Loving Kate was like… torture. There had been gunshot wounds less painful than the previous two months of her life. And now Kate was lying wounded in a hospital bed. Even though she hadn’t directly caused Kate’s injuries - or even her situation - it felt like she should have protected her better. The one time she didn’t stay with Kate…
After that she took the shots quickly until the room swam and the edges dulled.
She was awoken an indeterminate amount of time later by someone slapping her face. Batting the hand away, she charged her widow’s bites and aimed without opening her eyes. Before she could even figure out what was happening the person had grabbed her arm and twisted her onto the floor, disarming her in the process.
“Чтоб тебе дети в суп срали,” groaned Yelena.
“Иди на хуй,” said Maria from above Yelena.
“Why did my сестра teach you Русский?” Yelena still hadn’t opened her eyes, but there wasn’t any point, her face still held down into the carpet.
“We both know you don’t really want the answer to that.” Maria dug her knee in harder to Yelena’s spine and she let out another groan. “I’ve never been more disappointed in you,” she continued.
“Yeah, well, join in the club. If you do not let me up I am going to aspirate my own vomit.”
The pressure let up and Yelena was scrambling, running for the bathroom, where she proceeded to spill her guts. She hadn’t thrown up from drinking in years and had forgotten how excruciating the feeling was. It kept going until she was left retching, nothing left to come up.
Maria pushed open the door, slamming it into the wall and flicking on the lights. Yelena felt pain lancing through her whole head, even with her eyes still closed.
“You deserve it,” said Maria, venom seeping into her voice.
“I know,” said Yelena.
“No you don’t,” said Maria. “You think that you get to punish yourself for letting her get away from you, but what you should be punishing yourself for is not showing up when things get tough. That woman chose you, and here you are, yet again, making decisions for her, about her life-”
“But-”
Maria shifted, leaning closer. “There are no 'buts' Yelena. I know it’s been hard. I know you’ve gone to hell and back a thousand times. But this is one of those moments where you get to decide if it was worth it. This is where you decide if you’re going to live in the shadow of the Red Room forever, or if you are going to take a leap of faith towards a life you deserve. Kate needs you. Now, who do you want to be?” She slammed a glass onto the tile floor and left, the front door closing with a resounding crash.
Yelena opened her eyes just enough to find the glass against the harsh glare and took a tentative sip of water. Maria didn’t know. She didn’t know what the Red Room was like. She didn’t know what it was like to have to keep someone safe, to protect them from enemies you’d created. She would never understand loving someone enough to walk away from them. The small amount of water started to come back up and Yelena scrambled back for the toilet.
----
All the news could talk about was the unmasked Avenger and her mysterious partner. Even though Yelena’s job usually entailed more work in the shadows, she now felt obligated to show up in the ways that Kate always had for her community. So at night the masked White Widow patrolled the streets before returning to her apartment and drinking until she blacked out.
She got away with it for less than a week before she found a text waiting for her on a Monday morning.
From: Maria
1/12/2025 10:24
<<If you don’t report today you’re fired.>>
Groaning, Yelena scrubbed her hands at her eyes. By the light spilling in around her blinds she guessed it was already afternoon. Dragging herself to the bathroom she took a scalding shower before getting dressed and piling her hair in a messy bun.
When she got to the crew’s office Maria’s door was closed, so she took a seat. She waited. And waited. Finally the door opened and Maria feigned surprise. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were out here,” she said. They both knew she was lying, but Yelena plastered a fake smile on her face and followed Maria.
“You haven’t been at work in almost a week,” said Maria, focusing on her tablet. Yelena didn’t have anything to say to that, so she just hummed in agreement. Maria looked up, “Let me make myself clear, Belova, we don’t fuck around here. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“No ma’am,” mumbled Yelena, looking down. She wasn’t used to being commanded anymore. This still felt different than the control of the Red Room, but she had forgotten that it was a job, and that she could be fired. The crew was her path to redemption, to clearing her ledger, to freeing the widows, and she didn’t want to lose that. One of the many things she’d learned was when to fight back and when not to, and this wasn’t worth fighting over. Maria was right.
“Alright, your therapist is expecting you at five. You’re on mandated twice-a-week sessions until further notice. I’ve got some cleanup work I need handled. I’ll make sure those schedules don’t conflict with one another. Any questions?”
“No ma’am.”
“Dismissed,” said Maria. And Yelena very clearly was - Maria’s attention was already elsewhere, as though her sister-in-law wasn’t even worth her time.
Yelena had just enough time to grab something to eat before her therapy session, where - apparently - her therapist had been briefed on current events in Yelena’s life. Yelena knew Americans took their medical privacy very seriously and wondered if the therapist’s knowledge was some sort of breach of confidentiality, but then realized that as long as the therapist wasn’t sharing information about her it was probably all above board. Silently cursing Maria to high hell, she tried to defend herself.
----
She was gone for Natasha’s birthday, and by the time she was back in the city Maria and Natasha were gone for a romantic weekend. So Yelena went back to what she’d been doing: patrolling and drinking. The days passed quickly until she woke up one day to realize it was Kate’s birthday.
In the few hours of daylight she had she paced back and forth, debating on whether to call Kate. She still loved her. So much. It still felt like Kate was carrying Yelena’s heart. But maybe it was time to let her go… to let her move on with her life, to find someone better, safer than Yelena. By sunset she’d made her decision, gearing up and heading out.
The early sunsets left her more time to patrol. She followed Kate’s example and pulled up a police scanner, following trouble as much as she could until she finally found a gang fight, throwing herself in the middle with gusto.
When she walked out 30 minutes later it was with blood dripping down her arm and a slice across her cheek. She wasn’t even sure what had possessed her to jump in. There was no immediate danger to anyone else besides those fighting, and whatever they were fighting about was something unlikely to impact the larger workings of the city.
The next day she rolled into work sometime in the afternoon, not even clear what time it was. Natasha wasn’t there and Maria wouldn’t even make time for her. When she got to her therapy appointment the therapist winced at the slice on her face, before looking pointedly at where the wound on Yelena’s arm had seeped blood through her jacket.
“I’m concerned,” started the therapist. Yelena scoffed. “You think I shouldn’t be?”
“This is stupid,” said Yelena, rising to her feet.
The therapist gave her a look and pointed back into the chair. Yelena sized her up. Ex-military, no nonsense, wounded in her left leg and shoulder, likely 10-20 years out of peak physical condition. It would be easy to leave, even if she had to fight her way out of there. “Your boss said to tell you that if you walk out of here you can consider yourself fired,” she finally said.
“It would be a breach of confidentiality to tell her I walked out, no?”
“No. Sit,” she said, gesturing down again. Yelena fell back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. “This is unsustainable, you know.” Yelena didn’t know, but she didn’t want to say that, so she kept silent. “You have spent the last two months running yourself ragged. And now you are deliberately harming yourself-”
“I am not,” said Yelena, shooting up, indignant.
“Really?” asked the therapist, pointing to Yelena’s wounds. “That doesn’t look like ‘nothing.’ How many people were in that fight?”
“Twenty.”
“And was that a normal amount for you to fight alone?”
“I was just trying to protect this city!”
“Were you really? Or were you just trying to punish yourself?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
The rest of the session was spent in silence, Yelena losing the stare down with her therapist.
----
After her next mission - entailing literal cleanup, including digging through a dumpster - Yelena immediately headed to her sister’s apartment. But when the door swung open it was to a glaring Maria. “You’re not our dinner.”
“Is Natasha here?” Maria crossed her arms, her face never wavering. “Please, Maria, I need to-”
“Maria? Was that…” Natasha’s voice trailed off as she came around the corner. “I guess it wasn’t dinner.”
“Natasha, please, I just… do you remember when you were so stupid that you walked away from Maria? And I was there-” she hiccuped, suddenly realizing she was sobbing, “I told you it would be okay, and that-”
“You told me I was being stupid, so I’m going to return the favor: you’re being stupid, Yelena.”
“I cannot- I will get her killed-”
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to tell you this,” interrupted Natasha pointedly.
“Please-” Natasha stepped into the hall, pulling Yelena into a hug. Yelena sagged, letting her sister support her weight.
“You’re letting the Red Room control you,” said Maria quietly. Yelena jerked back from Natasha and they both turned slightly to get a better look at her.
“What?”
“You’re still letting the Red Room control you. It’s not realistic-”
“You know what our lives are like,” interrupted Yelena. “Has there never been a time working for Nick Fury where-”
“Look, I’m not saying it will be easy. I’m not saying that you’re not justified in being scared. I’m just saying that if you want to ever have anything resembling a ‘normal’ life, you have to make efforts to move past it.”
“How?”
“Well, you could start by not lying to your therapist and eating something,” Maria said, scanning Yelena pointedly. “Giving up the vodka wouldn’t hurt, either.” Yelena fisted her hands at her sides, trying to ignore the pain of Maria’s words. “Come here,” said Maria finally. She grabbed Yelena’s shoulder and dragged her into a hug. “I love you.”
“Are you sure?” choked out Yelena, uncertain as to whether she deserved any love at all.
“Hey, I saved your life, didn’t I?”
Groaning, Yelena said, “I will never hear the end of that, no?”
“No.”
----
After that everything felt like the wobbly place Yelena had been in immediately after being freed from the Red Room. Back then she’d had a mission, and that mission still stood, beckoning her on. But despair beckoned too, waving a bottle of vodka under her nose, offering the promise of blocking out the images of Kate’s broken body, even if just for a little while.
The weeks leading up to Christmas went by in erratic jumps. One day would be filled with hope and promise, the next with despair and the bottom of a bottle. When Maria and Natasha asked if Yelena was going to Missouri with them she said no, knowing it was best if she gave Kate space. Still she picked out her usual array of extravagant gifts and wrapped them carefully, dropping them off at the Hills’ to take in their suitcases.
The Monday before Christmas she got home a little after four in the morning, bypassing the vodka and pouring herself into bed after a snack and a shower. The phone ringing woke her up hours later. She grabbed it, Maria’s name on the caller ID immediately making her panic. “What is wrong?” She was met with silence. Spiraling, she considered all the things that could have happened to Natasha, Maria, Kate, Clint, the rest of the Bartons… “Maria. Сука, answer me!”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong!” Kate’s voice hit her like a ton of bricks, stealing her breath. She’d missed it so much, she realized. “You crash into my life. You stop me from taking the shot. You make me believe in Hawkeye and the Widow-”
“Kate-” her voice broke. She just wanted to tell Kate how sorry she was.
Kate didn’t even stop for a breath, acting as though she hadn’t even heard Yelena. “-that we’re partners. More than that you make me believe that we can - I don’t know - be together, love each other, but then when the going gets tough you get scared and you fucking bail. I left because I knew you were too goddamn scared to let me go after Kingpin- which, I guess you might have been right about, but I am an adult, I get to make my own decisions. And you have to trust me. I know that the Red Room was- The Red Room was, but you survived and you are free and now you’re freeing other widows and making the world a better place. But you’re so scared. All the time. Just because I’m not you - not as smart as you, or as fast as you, or as good as you - you act like I’m stupid. I’m not stupid Yelena. I’m good at what I do. I’m making a difference, I’m protecting the world, I’m fighting for what I believe in. And you’re just so goddammed scared that you can’t even fucking love me back!
“I can’t believe I was going to beg you to come home for Christmas.”
“Kate-” Yelena couldn’t believe what she was hearing, that Kate still had feelings for her, even after everything. She was saying that she loved Yelena, words Yelena couldn’t believe anyone would ever say about her. But then the call ended and she was left hanging.
It would be easy enough to call back, to try and beg her case- Beg her case for what? What was it, exactly, that Yelena wanted? She couldn’t answer the question, so she dropped the phone back on the table and rolled over, trying to figure it out.
The answer didn’t readily present itself, but she missed Kate all the time. By Christmas she realized that the only way to come to a decision was to go to Missouri, to see Kate in person, so she quickly threw her things in a bag and commandeered a quinjet from the crew. But when she got there she crashed and burned. It felt good to put herself out there, but everytime she opened her mouth the words she meant to say were co-opted by the terrified part of her and instead of telling Kate how much she missed her, she insulted her.
In the end she told Kate she loved her and then Kate asked her to leave. They both tried to explain themselves, but it felt like they were speaking different languages.
Once she was back in New York and had time to think about what they’d both actually said, she realized there might still be some hope hidden in all of the things they said and didn’t say. She still felt guilty, but the steady voices of her therapist, Maria, and Natasha pushing back against that were wearing her down.