Chapter 6
KATE’S P.O.V.
‘I am a genius,’ Kate thought, smiling as she looked over at both Yelenas on their hands and knees with her over the canvas sheet they’d spread on her smooth tile floor near the kitchen area. She’d had her credit card issues fixed, and so she grabbed one of every color bottle of kids’ paint at the craft store. Then there were different-sized brushes.
The three of them each wore a smock—in this case oversized denim shirts with the sleeves rolled up—in case of stray drops of paint. The plan was to paint targets on and also attach some that they could make out of other craft materials. At this point they had some paint on their hands, forearms, drops on their smocks. Given the nature of this, as Kate put it, that was part of the fun anyway.
Needless to say, the two others were surprised to see what she’d brought, and little Lena was especially excited. The three of them now had paper plates that they’d squirted different colors of paint onto for their brushes, each of them thinking of ideas for these targets they were making. Kate had to tell Yelena “no human-shaped ones, please”, nodding her head towards the child.
She’d not only grabbed the painting stuff, but on the couch were three ‘bows’ she’d grabbed from the toy store. These were the kind that looked like a recurve, but it wasn’t under tension like a real one. The shape stayed the same with an arrow shelf on either side, the string being elastic with rubber finger grips. This type was actually modeled off Clint Barton’s bow, given the Avengers’ fame. When Kate saw that, she couldn’t resist taking a selfie with one and sending it to Clint with a text saying, “THERE GOES YOUR BRANDING ISSUE.”
With those three, she’d gotten a heap of LARP arrows; the kind with bulbous foam heads that were strong but harmless. Kate had even seen the LARPers out in the park use them for Archery Tag, the only body protection being something like a maverick mask. So there was no way they’d be any harm around little Lena unless she got hit in the eye (which was very unlikely). Still, she did get three pairs of safety glasses just in case they decided to chase each other with them.
Kate and Yelena had agreed ‘no weapons’ from the get go, but these weren’t real and practice was always fun. Especially when the target didn’t shoot back. In this case, they were all making the targets together too.
As ‘Auntie Lena’ painted a perfect circle surrounded by other circles with red and black paint, her expression neutral and concentrated, Kate held a finger near her lips so little Lena knew to stay quiet for her. The dark-haired girl bit her lip to hold back a laugh and then flicked a few big drops of purple paint right at Yelena. No sooner did she stop moving and give Kate a look than little Lena sat there giggling.
“Was that necessary, Kate Bishop?”
“Yes.” She smirked before exploding with laughter. She and the little girl were both cracking up. “Oh, come on. Had it coming…” Kate mimicked Yelena’s precise brush stroking, being a little dramatic with it as little Lena watched them both. Yelena raised an eyebrow, giving HER a smirk.
“Oh, that’s funny, huh?”
Lena nodded her head really fast before she found herself with tiny drops of red paint on her face and smock. She giggled and spattered her aunt back with a bit of neon green. Not very much, but it was enough to make her crack. Finally, Yelena was smiling again and laughing with the others.
“See how it goes when you trust the artiste?” said Kate.
“Da.” Yelena grinned slyly and flicked a glob of black paint at her. Still amused, Kate spat out whatever drops had hit her lip. “Matches your hair.”
-/-
YELENA’S P.O.V.
Kate’s loft, and pretty much everywhere else, had been renovated a bit because of the fire before. There was space for rooms like her bedroom which was also the archery workshop. When passing by, on a workbench were various components that would make arrows whole when put together. Plus there was her signature bow and quiver, a closed safe (probably for “trick arrows” if she had any), toolboxes, and a laptop. Kate had said she was expecting a new bow where the limbs folded in and the handle had no shelf. The archer had been exploring her options when it came to shooting and storing bows effectively. That was an easier thing to do, apparently, since a deep arrow shelf and nocking point could lead to overthinking the shot.
The bathroom was upstairs. Sometimes Kate just had the weirdest and most random ideas, Yelena thought as she hovered over the tub that her niece sat in. They had painted plenty of targets, plus pressed some handprints on the canvas sheet while spattering each other with different colors. She remembered Kate saying excitedly, “Awe-some. Now THAT is art!” when they were done.
She pointed out that she had a big bottle of mouthwash under the sink in case a few drops landed in their mouths when spattering each other. No sooner had Yelena heard that than she hurriedly carried the child in there and made her gargle half a dozen times.
“You can relax, it’s made-for-kids paint. A few gargles will be enough. If anything, it would’ve just hit her lip or something.”
“Not when laughing with her mouth wide open.” Yelena said worriedly. “Please tell me the paint isn’t toxic.”
“It’s not, it’s the little-kids type where the makers expect this kind of thing. But IF something happens, it’ll mainly be a digestive thing that’ll get out of her system in, like, a day.”
Yelena had had more fun than she thought, messing around with the paints and all with her niece and close friend. So did little Lena who had a lot of drops on her face as well. But she didn’t want to be partially responsible for the child getting sick because of some landing in her mouth. Yelena still wasn’t used to that sort of thing (or any sickness) even after they’d both gotten the flu. For the former assassin, that was still a bit of a trauma despite Kate assuring her it was normal.
Between this, the zoo incident, and even the dream about little Lena as a young adult saying the same stuff she’d said years ago to Melina and Alexei… Yelena felt WAY different than the woman who’d first come to New York with a target to hit. It was as if something had shifted inside her, or perhaps she was changing like a caterpillar. She was doing whatever she could that was anywhere close to what Natasha did for her, letting these new protective instincts in. The question was, where did it all come from? She’d never been this way before.
As Yelena gave her niece a good scrubbing, using the shower head to rinse, she could hear Kate near the doorway. She was sitting outside the bathroom to give them some privacy, but the door was still open so they could chat. It helped Yelena to talk, especially when she got worried. The both of them planned on taking showers later, still optimistic since they’d had fun.
“I think I’m changing, Kate Bishop.”
“What’s that mean?” she asked, confusion in her voice.
“I’ve never been the protective type. Just the opposite. Natasha was the one protecting me when we were small. Right before being taken to the Red Room, she took a Soviet soldier’s pistol and aimed it at the others saying ‘Don’t touch her!’ But we weren’t related by blood, so it’s not like I inherited it.”
“No, but her influence could’ve rubbed off. Especially if what you just said is true.” Kate suggested. “And besides, it’s not like you CAN change. At least not completely.”
“Huh?” Yelena turned to the door skeptically, her ear closer to Kate’s voice. She said gently, “You can come in, sit and explain.”
Kate stepped in carefully, her smock and dried paint splatters still on, and sat against the wall with her arms on her knees. Lena was getting a few laughs at both of them since they hadn’t cleaned yet and looked like they’d stepped out of a paint factory gone wrong. Kate saw her amusement and smiled at her before turning to the older Yelena.
“Look, Clint called me and was asking about you two. I told him I was worried about you, and he gave me advice from experience as a father.”
“And what was that?” Yelena asked curiously.
“You never CHANGED, Yelena. These protective instincts you’re showing? This stuff that’s been going through your head since you met her? Well, it’s just been buried by all that Red Room crap. When you met little Lena, now having a bigger priority than being one of them… All this stuff that was blocked, it just popped out like a balloon full of confetti. It was always there. You just didn’t have a use for it till now.”
Yelena was somewhat astonished by Kate’s suggestion but, as she sat near the tub, she looked down in thought. Natasha had said something like that when they were kids, sitting in a dark freight box loaded with other girls to be picked up and sent to the Red Room. She’d assured six-year-old Yelena, “no so-called academy, no place, can make you something or someone you’re not.” The memory had only come back after being hit with the ‘Red Dust’ gas that released her from General Dreykov’s mind control.
When looking back on it, Yelena would ask herself, ‘Does that mean I was meant to be a killer?’ Did Natasha know she’d make it through training and want her to hold onto her innocence? Innocence that was ultimately erased? But now, with little Yelena and Kate around, free from the widows and not having any more “targets”, perhaps this was it; Yelena Belova’s true self.
Despite being tricky to adapt to, maybe this was who she was all along.
Kate continued, “Oh, and I asked Clint to make copies of all that stuff he showed you back at his farm.”
Yelena stopped mid-scrub and looked over with surprised eyes. “What?”
Kate gave a quiet laugh. “Yeah. He said it’d take him a while but that it’s worth his effort to do it for you. The guardianship papers, pictures, videos, notes, all that stuff. Even Lena’s drawings she hadn’t already brought along.”
The child made a few little splashes in the shallow bathwater after hearing that. “Yay!” At the same time, Yelena immediately thought back to her flight from Clint’s farm, of smiling down at the picture the child had given her on the way out the door; where she’d tried to draw both of them surrounded by hearts. The woman smiled again, remembering she had it framed and set on her nightstand.
-/-
KATE’S P.O.V.
“Is this what heroes do? Arrest their mothers on Christmas?”
“I’m sorry. I love you, mom.” Soon, the police drove away with Eleanor Bishop in the back. That was the last time Kate ever saw her…
-/-
Way earlier than usual, Kate made a pot of coffee in her kitchen corner. She added an extra scoop of grounds before sliding the filter basket in, filling the tank with water, and letting it brew over the next few minutes. She’d leaned back against the countertop, drumming her fingers, before Yelena came downstairs in her NEW YORK CITY t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Knowing her, there was no way she’d leave the guest room unless she was 110% sure little Lena was sleeping well. Whether it was her own room or the little girl’s, she and the kid often took turns sharing at their apartment. She must’ve heard Kate downstairs or something, or she’d probably still be up there in the loft. Good thing there was just enough room for Kate to fashion that guest area.
“Kiddo still sleeping?” Kate asked quietly.
“She’s still snuggling her pink pony…” Yelena nodded with a yawn, sitting at the table. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, about these protective traits already existing… having no idea what was wrong when she got sick and then getting scared. All I could think about was that she was safe.”
“At least it was just the flu.” Kate shrugged. “But yeah, nobody’s perfect. Especially with parenting. Want some coffee?” she asked, sliding the fresh brew off the burner plate. “I ran outta regular yesterday, so I hope espresso's ok. I mean, it’s like coffee-zilla.”
“Yes, please.” Yelena yawned again, stretching her arms out. “Could use some. And since you’re so curious, ‘please’ in Russian is ‘Radovat’. And another ‘please’ for you, do NOT ask me to teach you Cyrillic.”
Kate nodded and repeated the word carefully. “RAH-duh-vat. Ok. This should perk us both up.” She poured the plain espresso into two ten-ounce styrofoam cups. “Sugar, milk, anything like that?”
“Plain is good. More helpful than vodka.” The blonde woman accepted the cup immediately. As she did, though, she pointed towards Kate’s right hand. “What’s wrong with your fingers?”
The archer looked down at her right-hand fingers, including her thumb, all of which had pressure dressing including waterproof bandaids. Especially over the inner sides. The cuffs of her purple hoodie covered the palm and back of her hands, but even using the thumb holes left all five fingers exposed. “Oh. I, um…”
“Did you go to a hospital while we were asleep? Is that why you’re awake now?”
Kate retrieved a makeshift first-aid kit and pulled out a box of BLEEDSTOP powder packs. The label said ‘for minor cuts to large bleeding wounds’ and to apply generously, that it would stop in seconds. With that, she retrieved a twenty-three-inch rectangular handle with a hinge on each end and a cord wrapped around it. Kate unwrapped it and unfolded the flat limbs from either end, showing that this was the new bow she’d ordered.
“I started shooting barehanded after Christmas. But now, well, I'm still trying to get used to it and build up some calluses. I just had my arm guard on over my jacket. This new folding bow arrived in the mail so, when I couldn’t sleep, I went up to the roof with a mounted target so I could test it without waking you guys. It has to be a stronger one to REALLY pack a punch with these arrows I’ve been making. Especially for longer-distance.”
Yelena nodded, staying silent so Kate could continue.
“Anyway, I kept at it for hours with way less cushion than before, so I messed up a lot. Letting go of the string too soon, crap like that. I kept shooting with both sides, left and right, using what I typically do, plus some other stuff.” She then mimicked pulling an imaginary bowstring back with her right fist horizontal until opening her first finger and thumb. “Thumb draw…” She then held her right hand with her last fingers curled with the first one extended. “Slavic… holding extra arrows in the bow hand, in the draw hand… I’d do it standing still, while walking, running, jumping, etcetera. Good thing we didn’t lose professionals like Mihai Cozmei or Lars Andersen in the Blip. Really helpful.”
Kate yawned and took a big sip of her espresso.
“The blisters, and whatever-they-were, on my fingers and thumb burst without me realizing till there was blood all over them. So I finally came back in and used the powder to help stop the bleeding. THEN I went to see a doctor while you were asleep. I had to make sure there wasn’t nerve damage or something like that. I was a sweating mess too, so I took a shower afterwards and got NO SLEEP. So…” She clicked her tongue and raised her cup before taking another sip.
“I already knew you were a good archer, Kate Bishop. From a distance I saw you shoot in all those difficult motions at the Rockefeller Center. But I had no idea you would go at it that hard.”
“Normally I don't,” said Kate with a head shake. “This time I think I was doing it for the same reason other people drink excessively. Trying to drown out some bad stuff.”
Yelena, starting to put the pieces together, quietly asked, “Your mother? Eleanor?” With that, she looked a little sad herself.
Kate nodded with light sniff, remembering that her mother still wouldn’t talk to her when she tried before. Apparently the girl was “reckless, spoiled,” and also “thinks she’s invincible and won’t learn” as the mailed-in statement had said on Eleanor’s behalf.
“After my dad died, I spent my life honing all these skills—wanting to protect mom—and look how that went.” said Kate. “All I did was get her fiancé framed. I couldn’t do anything except send her to jail to make sure she didn’t hurt anyone else.”
“Exactly. No one will get hurt on her behalf.” Yelena pointed out. “YOU found out she was the culprit of what Duquesne was framed for. Not to mention you fought off that ‘Kingpin’ and helped Clint Barton get back to his family for Christmas.”
“Well, in all fairness, the only reason I picked up any of that was because you looked into who hired you to kill Clint.” Kate could only shrug.
They both looked down as Lucky approached Kate with a slight whine, nuzzling against her leg. Kate petted the cute golden retriever’s fur before turning back to Yelena. “Besides, it’s not just that. While I was up on the roof, I saw a bunch of Tracksuit Mafia guys running around. But their leadership—Kingpin, Kazi, Maya—they’ve been out of the picture for months. So who knows what they’re up to?”
“As a widow I never in a million years thought I would say this, but… let’s leave it to the police. More people have seen these Tracksuits now and will be on the lookout.”
They both sat at the dining table with their coffees, watching the pink-and-orange dawn through the cleaned window that dominated the upper wall opposite the apartment door. Somehow, just the sight of it helped bring peace.
“I can’t remember the last time I got a good look at the sunrise.” said Yelena. “Things are always so crazy and moving around, I don’t get to see it for long.”
-/-
As they sipped their espressos, Yelena looked over at the TV in front of the couch and walked over to it curiously. Kate could still hear the first HOBBIT movie playing on it, that it’d reached one of her favorite parts. As Yelena sat down, it showed her curiosity about the scenery (plus the pointy-eared elf woman and the wizard with gray robes and big beard). She probably hadn’t had time for movies like this that were more fairy-tale types. Grills—or Gilbert as his real name was—had given Kate the Extended Editions as a late Christmas gift.
-/-
YELENA’S P.O.V.
She watched the movie in fascination, one of the ones Kate had told her about with wizards, elves, fantasy creatures and big adventures…
“Why the halfling?”
Kate came over with her coffee and sat on the left, watching the scene with her cup in easy reach on the end table.
“I do not know. Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I’ve found…”
As if on cue, little Yelena was on the stairs looking out at the new dawn in awe. Kate and Yelena didn’t watch the screen but could hear it as they saw the small girl whose bed-head blonde hair shone in the sunrise while the movie continued; “I’ve found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk, that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love…”
The smiling little girl came over and reminded these half-asleep young women of the truth in that dialogue. She climbed up on the couch between them as Kate smiled at her. “Morning, kiddo.”
The child wrapped her handed-down surplus vest tighter around herself fondly, probably thinking of Natasha. Her expression changed to sympathy as her eyes lowered towards Kate, though. “Aw, you hurt your hand?”
Kate Bishop looked back down at her right hand with the brown-stained pressure dressing and all. She looked a little embarrassed but nodded. “Yeah, I did. It’s just, um…”
Little Lena scooted over and kissed the injured hand, touching the knuckles tenderly. She looked into Kate’s eyes with a smile that was still missing a baby tooth. “There, you’re ok. All better.” She sat there hugging Kate’s arm and laying against her.
Yelena looked at the child who just radiated pure sunshine, astonished yet again at how she was picking up on her surroundings (just like how both dogs would notice if they were scared or upset). Had the child gotten that sweet gesture from Natasha after bumping her knee or something? If it made her feel better back then, she must’ve felt it would do the same for her Auntie Kate.
Yelena wouldn’t deny how afraid she’d been at the beginning, after meeting her namesake back at Clint’s farm and not knowing if she’d be safe with her. But with little Lena and Kate around after all, she’d gained a new kind of courage that kept the widow side of her away. It was nothing like the kind of courage she’d needed in those days. It was so much more vibrant and, well, it felt precious like a blessing. ‘Sometimes it is the small things… literally.’