Hold On

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.