James and Yelena
He knelt quietly, the flowers trembling in his grip as he set them beside the simple headstone. Wildflowers - she was always pointing them out in Wakanda, barefoot walking in the fields. Her red hair pulled back and her laughter carried by the wind. She'd crouch beside a patch saying things like "You don't need to know their names to admire them, you know." He'd smile, watching her tuck one behind her ear like it belonged there. She would have never let the world see her this way. Heaven forbid the world knew the Black Widow liked flowers.
His fingers lingered on the stone, rough and cold beneath his touch. The engraved name still looked new. But of course it did. It was new. Still fresh. Here and in his heart.
He closed his eyes, drawing in a breath, holding it like it might steady the ache in his chest. He'd meant to come earlier. He really had. But then Steve decided to stay in the past, and Sam needed his help, and everything just kept changing too fast to keep up with. He could hardly breath. And part of him was grateful for it. It had kept his mind off the loss. But now, here he was.
"Ohio huh?" He muttered, eyes scanning the quiet cemetery. "Came back 'home?'"
A breeze stirred the tall grass around him, the sound like a whisper between the headstones. He brushed away the thin layer of dust on the stone - it felt wrong, leaving her like that. She hated messes. Except in the kitchen. He could still hear her telling him "I can fight five trained assassins in a hallway, but apparently scrambled eggs are my downfall."
He'd laughed. A real, genuine laugh. It was the first time in years he had.
The silence here felt scared. Not like when he was home, alone. There it felt like he was drowning in it. But this was safe.
"I miss you Nat." He sighed, shoulders sagging as he leaned his head against the cool marble. "I never even got to say goodbye..."
"You know," A voice said from behind him, casual but not unkind. "She talked about you."
In an instant training took over. He stood and turned sharply, gun pointed at the figure behind him.
A woman stood there, blonde hair cropped short, hands slowly raising in surrender. Calm and confident. A fluffy dog, sat obediently next to her with it's tail wagging and tongue out, as if there was not a problem in the world.
Recognition was slow to spark, like a half forgotten song but once it hit, it hit hard.
"Yelena?" He said, still unsure. He kept the gun aimed at her, but his fingers had relaxed.
She offered him a half-smile and stepped closer, the dog trotted forward to sniff the flowers James had just laid down.
"Hey. No" He gently nudged the dog back with his boot, but it didn't deter the dog.
"Are you going to lower the gun so we can have a normal conversation?" She asked him, eyebrow raised.
After a beat he dropped the gun, placing it back in his holster. His hand lingered near it, more so from habit than suspicion. He turned, trying once more to coax the dog away from the petals.
"I didn't believe her when she said you were still alive," She tilted her head to study him. "You haven't aged a day. What's your secret?"
He gave a dry humorless chuckle. "Cryogenic freezing. Don't recommend it."
"Well it sure did wonders for you, I mean you really haven't changed at all."
"You have," He said, eyes trained on the headstone at his feet. He knew Yelena and Natalia had a close relationship, especially towards the end. But he really just want the time alone with her right now. "You were so young."
"I wasn't that young." She replied with a playful scoff. "I just had braids and too much attitude."
"None of you had attitude in the Red Room." He gave her a sidelong glance. "At least you never showed it. Too scared to be punished I always assumed."
"That's why you liked her wasn't it? She showed it during training."
He almost smiled thinking back on the memories of time spent together. She stood tall, back straight, defiant. She hadn't flinched when he walked in the room like the others had.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She'd asked him when they were first alone
He hadn't meant to stare, but something about her was magnetic. He just didn't know how it would change him.
"I loved her for a lot of reasons." He said now, voice softening. "She was brilliant, and forgiving. She understood me in ways no one else ever could. She was the first person to treat me like a human in years. Even when I didn't remember... I think part of me still knew."
"She was good at that. She did everything she could to protect me."
"And it wasn't enough..." He looked at Yelena with a sad expression. "I always knew even if we escaped she wouldn't be happy until we took the Red Room down. I'm just glad to know she got to do that before she-" His gaze drifted up to clouds. "Before she died."
There was a moment of silence between them, not awkward, but not comfortable. Just full. Of memories, of grief, and the things unspoken.
"She told me she was going to escape with you." Yelena said after a while. "I begged her to take me with, and I think that was the first time I realized how much she really loved you."
"You were what thirteen?"
"Fourteen." She admitted.
"You were too young to be there. You all were." His voice was thick. "If I could go back and change things-"
"Yeah, but you can't." She interrupted, not cruelly. Just stating a fact she had long since come to accept.
"No..." He knelt again, pulling the now soggy flowers from the dogs mouth. "No I can't..."
"Drop it Fanny." Yelena said firmly.
He looked up at her in surprise. "Fanny?"
She laughed, a short, real laugh. "It was Natasha's-"
"Cover identity after the Sokovia Accords." He finished. A genuine chuckle escaping.
He had seen her after she had taken down the Red Room, she was in his shirt, laying on his chest.
"Fanny Longbottom. Can you believe it? I'm hiding from the U.S. Government, not to mention Stark on top of it. and Rick thought that was an appropriate alias."
He'd kissed her forehead and told her she could make anything work, and that even if she decided to stick to Fanny he would still love her. She'd pressed a kiss into his collarbone, telling him at minimum the last name needed to change. She wasn't a wizard after all.
He'd give anything to go back. To tell her he loved her once last time. To tell her not to go to Vormir. To tell her to run away with him. Not that they ever could have. They'd proved it in Red Room. They couldn't run when others were in pain.
"She told you?" Yelena asked him, kneeling beside him to pet the dog.
He nodded softly, still clutching the chewed flowers. "She visited me after she reunited with you. Told me everything, she was so excited to tell me what happened. What she got back."
"How often did she visit you?"
James looked at her, smirking. "Jealous?"
Yelena shrugged. "No... Yes."
James reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "Before she reconnected with you? A handful. After there was only four times before the blip..."
"When you came back?"
"I didn't know. Not right away. I was thrown right back into the fight. I found out after..." He swallowed hard, Clint's pained expression filling his memories. "No funeral. No body. Just a mission report."
"I was hunting undercover Widows, some had been undercover for more than twenty years. Trying to free them. I reached out to her when I returned. But she didn't answer. And then when the News aired... I blamed her partner - Barton."
"I did the same." He said with a bitter laugh. "Wishing he had taken her place. And then I met his family, and it all made sense why she took his place. She couldn't let those kids go fatherless. Not when we were the only ones she left behind."
"She loved you."
He smiled, soft and sad. "She loved you too. She was so happy to finally have a family again. To be a sister again. She regretted not going back for you."
"I like to think that." Yelena murmured, ruffling the dog's ears. "I can only hope I'm doing good by her."
He nodded. "I get that."
He'd had the same thoughts every night.
"Wanna grab a drink?"
He looked back at the head stone and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah that would be good."
She tilted her head towards the parking lot. The dog was already bounding toward the car like she was about to win the race of a life time.
James stood and followed her. Behind them, the flowers trembled once more in the breeze.