Chapter 2
You don’t get a chance to corner Peter that night when you get to the compound, with it being late in the evening and him having class the next morning (you truly don’t know how he does it).
You’re left now with your racing thoughts, of what the hell Peter and Bucky were talking about. You wonder if you could track down Bucky instead…
After a hot shower and slipping into some soft pajamas, you decide to make your way to the kitchen two floors down.
Luckily, Bucky is there making food with Sam. Unfortunately, Yelena is sitting at the island in front of them, snacking on a handful of Cheez-Its, sharing the box with Kate.
Your growing suspicion that Barnes and Parker were somehow talking about Yelena being a fucking simp- and not people simping over Amanda from Smosh- gnaws at you.
“Okay, so, you have to get Bucky alone,” you whisper to yourself in the doorway of the elevator.
You try to devise a plan as you walk into the room, maybe you could ask for Barnes’ help with something? What could he not refuse.
“Hey, guys! What’s on the menu tonight?” You say with a smile as you reach the group, leaning on the edge of the counter next to the stove.
They all greet you, and Wilson replies cheerily, “We’ve got some pasta going, and there’s chicken in the oven, and there is also a pot of boxed mac and cheese on for Yelena,” he rolls his eyes when he mentions the Russian’s favorite food.
“Why do you dislike it so much? It is so good, and so versatile!” Yelena pipes up defensively, throwing her hands up in the air for dramatics. It makes everyone chuckle, and she feigns offence at the reaction.
It’s now or never. Get Bucky out of here so you can pick his brain.
You lean a little further on the counter, closer to Bucky who is currently stirring both pastas.
“Barnes, after the whole… goo… incident today, would you want to help me with some target practice? Maybe run some simulations?”
Bucky turns to you as you speak, but before he can even open his mouth, Yelena is interjecting.
“I will help you! This sounds like fun, and we all know that I am a better shot than James, anyway.” She’s out of her seat now, already walking towards the elevator.
Sam is doubled over at her jest towards Bucky, and Bucky is still standing with his mouth open, looking between you and Yelena.
You have a hard look in your eye, clearly frustrated. Pleading? He can’t read you fully in the moment.
Yelena is impatiently pressing the buttons as she turns back towards you. “Well, come on! Let’s go destroy things!” She yells, ushering you to follow as the doors open.
You look between her and Bucky, shooting him glare as he simply shrugs and smirks.
Somewhat defeated that your tactic didn’t work, you follow Yelena into the elevator, pressing the button for the floor the simulation rooms are on.
“This will be fun! We do not get to practice together often.” She looks over to you, bumping you with her shoulder as she speaks.
The blonde’s bright demeanor always seems to rub off on you, instantly feeling the irritation fade away.
“You’re right, I feel like Wanda and I always end up doing our own thing.” You turn to her as you speak, taking in her still-damp hair from her own shower, and the lack of her signature eyeliner.
She’s wearing sweats and a tank top, the tattoo on said shoulder that she got in memory of Natasha on full display.
You smile at it, admiring the flowers and Cryllic letters that trail from the base of her neck to her elbow.
She watches you as you look, a smirk crossing her own face. “Do you have any of your own, киса?”
“Yeah, a few.” You chuckle- realizing that most of your ink typically hides beneath your clothes or your suit.
You’re wearing some yoga pants and a long sleeve shirt, so you bend to lift your pant legs, pulling them up to just over your knee.
This allows her have a peek at the colorful traditional flowers, pinups, and… cat portraits, almost fully covering your right leg.
The left is littered with black and grey traditional- dead vines, bats, and a large dagger spanning the inside of your calf.
You observe her expressions as she examines them, moving around you in the small elevator to get a better look. “Wow…” she whispers.
“Life and death,” you state. “The same style, but one side representing bright, light things. The other, decay and ruin.”
She takes particular interest in the dagger, naturally, and reaches out to turn your leg ever so slightly so she can see it more clearly.
“These… these are beautiful, I had no idea you had such a love for tattoos,” she mutters, her voice still soft.
You arrive at your floor as she says this, the doors opening up onto the training floor.
“Well now you know, Belova,” you tease lightly, “Now come on, let’s fuck some shit up.”
You allow your pant legs to fall as you step into the room, leaving Yelena trailing behind you, her jaw slack- clearly unable to digest the fact that you’ve hidden the tattoos for so long.
You approach the screen on the wall, and start to scroll through the list of simulations.
“So, I didn’t really have anything specific in mind,” you attempt to ground yourself, trying your best to put Peter and Bucky’s words out of your brain for the time being.
Yelena is soon coming up next to you, humming in contemplation.
The two of you assess the options, and she perks up at one- “Here, this will be good to help you with the targets. The enemies are easy to lock onto, but there are lots.”
She presses it before you can even really take a look, the system whirring to life.
An automated voice rings out, “You have 90 seconds. Gather your supplies, get into position.”
“Yelena!” You screech over the noise, “I wasn’t ready! Oh, my god-”
As she runs over to the weapons bench, the assassin lets out a fucking cackle. The audacity.
“You have more than enough time! You do not even have to choose what you will kill them with!” She’s picking through knives and throws a gun across her back, placing widow’s bites snugly on her wrists.
“Oh my god,” you whisper again at her retorts. “Still! I-”
“You have 30 seconds.”
You haven’t used this sim before, and are scrambling to find the starting point, a slight panic starting to overcome you for the second time today.
“Yelena!” You whine, “Where the FUCK DO I GO?”
The holograms begin to come into view, creatures start to materialize that are akin to the Chitauri.
Your whole body begins to light up, pink tendrils coming from your hands already.
“Oh, you are okay, look.” She is waltzing over to you, in absolutely zero rush, and points to a small box on the floor glowing green.
You wave your hands frantically as you search the floor.
Yelena comes up behind you, her hands resting on your hips, maneuvering you to where you need to be.
“Here,” she says.
“10 seconds.”
She cooly takes her place in another box about five feet to your right, and flips a blade in each hand. She grips them easily when they fall into place.
You’re honestly more focused on her confidence than anything right now, watching as she fixes her stance, readying for the fight.
She takes note of your glances, and flexes her muscles the tiniest bit before she shakes off.
“You ready, киса?” She’s got a grin on her face, and she winks at you before turning to the holograms in front of the two of you.
You roll your eyes just a bit at her cockiness, muttering “As I’ll fucking ever be.”
You prepare your stance as well, raising your hands in the direction of the enemies and allowing balls of magic to form in your palms.
“Commencing simulation 14.”
The electronics come to life, creatures beginning to growl and hiss and move erratically.
Within seconds, both Yelena and yourself are locked in. There are blasts of power coming from you, taking out the holograms or moving fake objects to throw into them.
Yelena is switching between all her weapons, knives flying and bullets ringing out interchangeably. She’s jumping and flipping over the opponents as they come her way.
About seven minutes in, you’ve become irritated with the way that the holograms move. They’re jumpy and jolt in all directions, making it hard for you to catch them in just the right spot.
Yelena is killing it. She’s smoothly taking out the enemies with headshots, seemingly without breaking a sweat or letting a hair get out of place.
In just the split second you take to check in on your teammate, one of the creatures sneaks up on you, the advanced technology causing it to solidify as it approaches.
The thing crashes into your stomach, making you to collapse and land right on your ass on impact.
A hot, bright, pink flash waves out of you as you hit the ground. You roll onto your side, and let out a small groan.
As Yelena hears and sees the commotion, she yells “STOP!”
The simulation immediately begins to fade, the sounds and lights falling away quickly.
She rushes to you, dropping to her knees at your side.
You’re clutching your stomach, hands still glowing and warm.
“Oh, no,” she whispers at your state.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Yelena lightly situates a hand under your shoulder that’s on the ground, and places the other on top of your own resting on your stomach.
She jumps slightly at the heat of your hand, feeling the warmth even through her glove.
“Yeah,” you say, breathy and out of it, “I’m fine, just… got the wind knocked out of me.”
“Where are you hurt? How did it happen?” Her brows knit together, she almost looks scared.
“I just wasn’t focused enough, was pulling my punches and it caught me off guard.” You groan again. “Got me in the abdomen, but I’ll be okay.”
She examines your face as well now, trying to make sure you’re telling the truth.
Hesitantly, she asks, “Do you mind if I take a look?”
Her hands are still hovering over your stomach and holding onto your shoulder, respectively. She’s watching you expectantly, nerves starting to get the best of her as the hand not touching you begins to shake slightly.
Normally, when someone takes a hit from a hologram, it doesn’t leave permanent damage. Bruises happen frequently, there’s an occasional scratch, and only two bones have been broken (ahem, Peter, Kate).
With the amount of pain you’re in, you figure it wouldn’t hurt for her to double check that there’s nothing of concern. You nod, “Sure, yeah, that’s fine.”
“Okay,” Yelena replies quietly, attempting to soothe you with her tone.
She removes her hand from your shoulder, the movement jostling you slightly as you press flat against the floor now.
You let out a small cry as the pain begins to radiate.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “Can I see?”
You nod, not wanting to risk speaking at the moment.
The assassin moves to carefully lift the hem of your shirt to allow her to check for any signs of injury.
She lets out a small gasp as she sees the entirety of your stomach.
“Ugh, shit,” you say. “Is it that bad?”
“No- no, no,” she rushes out.
“You.. have more tattoos,” her voice is quiet and there is a lilt to it that makes it seem like a question.
A chuckle slips out of you, leading you to whine again at the way the pain stabs at you as your stomach moves, a small burst of magic escaping you again at the feeling.
“Sorry. Yes, I do. I’ve got a lot.”
She seems to be in awe of you again, maybe surprised, as she admires the way the large moth fully envelops your abdomen. The tops of the wings rest right below your bra line.
You have to break Yelena out of her trance-like state as she begins to run her fingertips along the lines of the moth’s wings.
It makes you shiver, a hand instinctively grasping her wrist as it moves against you, hoping to avoid another jolt from the injury.
You don’t expect her to meet your gaze so quickly when you do so, but she locks onto you immediately.
Her eyes are dark and unreadable, her lips are slightly parted.
You’ve never seen her look like this, and her face flushes ever so lightly as you examine her expression.
Magic starts to leave you again as her eyes bore into you, the warmth soaking into her wrist.
Yelena doesn’t move a muscle, her stare unwavering.
As soon as you recognize the pink glow, you retract your hand, a “Sorry” leaving your lips quietly.
This seemed to finally end her stupor, the assassin pulling her eyes away to follow your hand.
“No, I…” she says, her tone low. “I did not mean to,” she stumbles over her words. “I am sorry- you just, I had no idea.”
A small smile crosses your face as she apologizes, “It’s alright, what can I say?” You try to hold down another laugh. “I’m full of surprises.”
Yelena seems to soften at this, a smirk tugging at her lips, “Apparently you are.”
“So,” you say, “any damage, doctor?”
She stumbles once again, “Um, is it, is it okay if I feel around? It may hurt.”
You nod, bracing yourself for the way she starts to press her hands into different locations on your stomach.
When she reaches the tender spots where you took the hit, your hands clench at your sides as you try to restrain the magic.
She continues to poke and prod for a minute or so, ruling out any major damage.
“Okay,” she sighs, leaning up and sitting back down on her heels.
“Nothing seems out of place. You have a large area of redness that you should keep your eye on. It will bruise, but other than this, you will be okay.”
Yelena gently moves your shirt back down as she finishes her assessment. She stands, offering to help you up with an outstretched hand.
You take it, groaning and wincing as she hauls you off the floor. As you gain your balance, you look towards her.
The blonde avoids your gaze, a hint of blush still lingers on her cheeks and nose.
“Thank you, Belova.” You move towards her, causing her eyes to finally meet yours again. “I really appreciate it, sorry I cut our practice short.”
She chuckles at this, and the sound makes you smile.
Yelena doesn’t respond, so you clasp a hand on her shoulder as she had done to you just minutes ago- “Let’s go grab some food upstairs, yeah?”
This time, her face fully lights up. “Yes, please, I am starving!”
The two of you start to walk back towards the elevator, and when you reach the doors she pipes up again, “Do you think Wilson sabotaged my mac and cheese?”
It takes everything in you to not collapse with laughter. “Honestly, if he did, I would fucking kill him,” you reply with a fully straight face.
She does not have the same control, nearly hysterical at your comment as she presses the floor’s button repeatedly once again.
When the doors close and she has regained some semblance of composure, you turn back to Yelena, “No, I swear to god if he messed it up, I will throw him off the roof. No wings.”
She howls at the comment, and is still chuckling by the time the elevator opens up to the kitchen.