"protocol be damned."
Peter swung through the brisk night air, webbing from building to building across the sparkling New York skyline. As he sailed over the city, the wind whistled past his masked face. He tried to focus on the exhilaration of web slinging, but his mind kept wandering back to memories of Natasha.
Ever since the battle with Thanos and Natasha's sacrifice on Vormir a year ago, Peter had been filled with an aching grief. Losing Tony had been devastating enough, but Natasha's death felt like the loss of a mother. She had taken Peter under her wing after they met in Germany, mentoring him and nurturing him in a way that reminded Peter of his Aunt May.
He could still picture Natasha's sly smirk and hear her teasing jabs that masked her depth of caring. On hard days, she knew when he needed space and when he needed a shoulder to lean on. And though she played it casual, Peter knew she worried about him out on patrols, always checking in afterwards to make sure he was safe. Swinging through the city now without Natasha felt colder...lonelier.
As Peter landed on a rooftop overlooking the twinkling cityscape, he crouched down and sighed, his breath forming a frosty cloud. "I miss you, Nat," he murmured.
"Incoming call from: Ned Leeds," his suit AI announced.
Peter blinked, clearing his head. "Uh, answer."
"Peter, I'm detecting a disturbance two blocks east of your location," Ned informed him. "It appears to be an armed robbery in progress at a local bank."
Peter stood up swiftly. "Got it, thanks Ned. I'm on my way."
Throwing himself off the roof, Peter fired a web and swung in the direction of the disturbance, grateful for the distraction from his swirling thoughts. As he approached the bank, he scoped out the situation through the large glass windows.
Several armed men were crowded around the counter, threatening the tellers while stuffing bags full of cash. Peter crept in through the ceiling, sticking to the shadows as he observed the robbers.
"Hey fellas, you do know banks have these cool new things called ATMs now right?" he quipped as he dropped down behind them. "Much easier than all this."
The robbers whirled around, drawing their weapons. But before Peter could disarm them with his webs, one of the larger goons tackled him to the ground.
"Spider punk, you just made a big mistake," the man growled as the others closed in around Peter.
Peter struggled beneath the man's weight, but he couldn't break free. A flash of panic rushed through him as the other robbers took aim at his trapped form. But just as they fired, a lithe figure dropped from the ceiling and knocked their weapons upward. The bullets peppered the ceiling as the figure dispatched the men with graceful but brutal efficiency. Within seconds, all the robbers were down, leaving only the one still pinning Peter.
A swift kick to the man's head left him dazed on the floor. Peter jumped up to face his rescuer, only to find himself startled into silence. A young blonde woman stood before him, clad in a white tactical suit nearly identical to Natasha's old uniform. Her posture exuded the same casual poise and lethal precision that Peter recognized all too well.
"I had that totally under control, you know," Peter finally said, hoping the modulator concealed the shaking in his voice.
"Sure you did," the woman replied, a sly half-smile quirking her lips. "Looked like you needed some backup. And call it nostalgia, but I have a soft spot for spiders."
Peter stepped closer, head tilted. "Who are you? How do you know Natasha?"
The woman tensed at Natasha's name, hesitation flashing across her face. In the distance, police sirens began to wail.
"No time for questions," she said hurriedly. "Meet me on the rooftop one block down if you really want answers." With that, she fired a grappling hook through the shattered bank ceiling and disappeared.
Peter watched her vanish, then quickly webbed up the groaning robbers for the police. He wanted answers about this mysterious woman and her connection to Natasha. Shooting a web, he swung out of the bank and launched himself onto the designated rooftop.
The woman was already there waiting, arms crossed as she surveyed the city. Peter landed softly behind her.
"Well, I'm here for those answers you promised," he prompted.
She turned and scrutinized him for a moment before replying.
"Not with the mask on. If we're doing this, I need to see your face."
Peter hesitated, then slowly pulled off his mask, revealing his youthful features and tousled brown hair. The woman showed no reaction.
"There, mask off. I'm Peter, Peter Parker," he introduced himself. "And you are...?"
"Yelena. Yelena Belova."
Peter's eyes widened in recognition. "Wait, Yelena Belova? You're Natasha's..."
"Sister," Yelena finished with a single nod. "Well, not by blood. But as close to a sister as she had."
Peter blinked rapidly, trying to process this revelation. Natasha mentioned she had a sister named Yelena a few times. Why did she show up now? His mind whirred with questions.
Yelena sighed, her reserved façade slipping slightly to reveal a hint of melancholy. "Natasha was my mentor, and my family. We went through the Red Room program together."
At the mention of Natasha's past, Peter's guard dropped fully, his voice softening with empathy. "That must have been really hard."
Yelena's mouth quirked up. "Being around Natasha made it easier. She looked out for me, in her own subtle way."
An idea sprang to Peter's mind. "Hey, do you want to grab a drink somewhere? Maybe not roof scamper around in full gear. I know a great café nearby if you want to talk more."
Yelena considered the offer, then gave a single nod. "Fine. But no tricks, little spider."
Peter held up his hands innocently. "No tricks, I promise."
They made their way to a nearby café Peter knew had private booths good for discreet conversations. Once settled with hot chocolates, an animated Peter launched right into conversation.
"So you and Natasha were really close, huh? She never mentioned you, but Mom was always kind of secretive about her past." Peter froze, realizing his slip-up. "I mean Natasha. Natasha, not Mom."
But Yelena had already caught the tender nickname, her eyes glinting with interest. "Mom?" she repeated, lips curving into a smirk. "Well, isn't that sweet."
Peter rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, well, she just really looked out for me after...after everything. With after the Avengers split up after the fight in Germany, she kind of stepped up and took me under her wing. Made sure I was okay."
Yelena nodded, her amusement shifting to something softer. "That sounds like Natasha. She always had a habit of picking up strays." She took a thoughtful sip of her hot chocolate. "If you were like her kid, I guess that makes me your aunt, little spider."
Peter grinned at the nickname. "I always wanted an aunt. But honestly, right now, it's just really nice talking to someone else who knew Mom like I did. Who understands." His smile faded, pain creeping back into his eyes.
Yelena leaned forward, observing him closely. "What happened to her, Peter?" she asked gently. "They told me she died stopping Thanos. But no one would give me details."
Peter took a shaky breath, staring down into his cocoa. "From what I was told, she sacrificed herself on Vormir so the Avengers could get the Soul Stone. It was down to either her or Clint Barton, better known as Hawkeye. And Clint couldn't save her." His voice cracked.
"I saw her body afterward. It didn't seem real." Peter's fists clenched, his grief welling up. "For five years after the Blip she thought I was gone for quite possible forever. Then when I came back, I hoped that she would be here for me." He gave a choked laugh. "Who else could sneak around Nick Fury to be there when I got back from...wherever I was? I wanted her to hug me so tight, and tell me everything was gonna be okay."
Peter furiously blinked back tears. "But she wasn't. She was gone. For real this time. I keep thinking about it in my head, wishing that I survived Thanos' snap. Maybe we could've stopped him before he destroyed the Stones..."
Yelena reached out and gripped his hand, anchoring him firmly. "It wasn't your fault, Peter. It was her choice. As painful as that choice was, dwelling on the past won't change it."
Peter clung to her hand like a lifeline, the contact comforting after so many months of grief borne alone. Slowly, his breathing steadied.
"I'm really glad I met you, Yelena," he said with quiet sincerity. "With Mom gone, I guess...I just really needed family."
Yelena gave his hand a final squeeze before releasing it. "Me too, little spider." She cleared her throat brusquely. "Now, tell me about your powers. Natasha hinted about them but stayed irritatingly vague."
Peter laughed through his lingering tears. "Only if you tell me about yours! I saw those moves at the bank. You really fight like her."
The conversation drifted to lighter topics as they swapped stories about Natasha and their own abilities. But a thought still nagged at Peter.
"Can I ask what brought you to New York? And to that bank tonight?"
Yelena hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "I...I was looking for Natasha," she admitted. "I'd heard rumors she was back, that she didn't really die on Vormir. I came to find out if it was true."
Peter straightened, his eyes widening. "Wait, you think she could be alive? How is that possible?" His voice sped up with excitement and desperate hope.
Yelena held up a hand, and sighed. "Okay, let me be honest. I was told that I needed to keep an eye on you, by Natasha." Peter looks at her, with shock. "When I saw you were struggling with those robbers, I was worried that something could happen to you, so I stepped in."
Peter's heart pounded as he processed her words. His mom is alive? After this whole year full of grief, could it be true? He met Yelena's gaze steadily. "I'm coming with you."
Yelena frowned. "Peter..."
"No!" He stood up sharply. "If she is out there, I have to see her. Yelena, please." His voice dropped to a fervent whisper. "She's my mom."
Yelena searched his face, then nodded. "Okay. We'll go see her, come follow me."
They left the café and Yelena led the way to an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Peter fidgeted anxiously beside her as she worked to pick the lock of a side door. Finally it swung open with a creak and they slipped cautiously inside.
The interior was dark and empty, remnants of old storage crates scattered around. Peter's heart sank. Did Yelena lie to him? Is Natasha still dead?
"Shit, Peter." Yelena sighed. "This happens a lot. She runs off somewhere and then later she..." She trailed off, eyes narrowing to peer across the warehouse.
Peter followed her gaze, squinting into the shadows. Was that...movement? He stepped slowly forward.
A familiar silhouette emerged from the darkness. Peter's breath caught in his throat. As she stepped into a sliver of moonlight, her face illuminated, Peter's heart stuttered back to life.
"Mama!"
He was running before he realized it, feet pounding across the concrete floor. He distantly registered Yelena's startled voice calling after him but he didn't stop, couldn't stop, until he had his arms wrapped tightly around Natasha. Peter buried his face in her shoulder, heedless of the tears now streaming down his cheeks.
"You're alive, you're here," he gasped out between sobs.
After a moment's hesitation, his Mom's arms came up to encircle him, one hand gently cradling the back of his head.
"Hey, baby spider," she murmured, a wealth of emotion buried in the simple greeting.
Peter just clung to her, feeling like a small child after a nightmare seeking solace in his mother's arms. Natasha seemed content to let him linger there, providing a steady, solid comfort he had ached for.
Finally Peter drew back, scrubbing the tears from his face as he stared at her in wonder. "I don't understand. Clint saw you die on Vormir, and he obtained the Soul Stone. Fury told me you were gone. What happened?"
Natasha shot an exasperated look over Peter's shoulder. He turned to see Yelena approaching sheepishly.
"Do you like your surprise, sis?" Yelena offered with a weak shrug.
"Yelena was not supposed to bring you here," Natasha admonished. "It was too dangerous."
"Come on, Nat. Your kid was devastated thinking you were dead. He deserves to know the truth."
Natasha looked back at Peter, her expression softening. "I know. But it's a long story." She brushed a wayward curl off his forehead with a tenderness that made his eyes sting anew. "The most important thing is that I'm here now."
Looking at her loving face, the details of how hardly seemed to matter. She was here, she was real. But Peter's racing mind still craved answers.
"I don't understand how you came back from Vormir. We...we... I thought we didn't get you back when we returned the Stones. And that was years ago..."
Natasha guided him to sit beside her on an old crate. Yelena hovered near them, listening intently.
"The Soul Stone returned me to Vormir after Steve returned it," Natasha explained gently. "But instead of 2014 Vormir where I died, I was revived in 2023 on the same day of... the day of the Battle for Earth. I can only assume the Stone sent me back cause Steve returned it the moment Clint took it."
Peter wiped his eyes, trying to comprehend the logistics. "So you've been here this whole time? Why didn't you let us know? Why didn't you let ME know?" The hurt in his voice was poorly concealed.
Natasha grasped his hand again. "Peter, baby, if I could have, I would have told you in a heartbeat. But things were complicated after the reversal of the Blip. I needed to lay low while the world returned to normal."
Peter bit his lip. "One year, though. You let me - let everyone - think you were dead for one whole year, Mom." There was no accusation, only profound exhaustion.
Natasha's voice ached with remorse. "I know. And I'm so sorry, honey. Every day without you, my kid, was torture. But I didn't know how this all worked. I thought something would happen if I revealed myself to be alive."
Peter scoffed, crossing his arms. "Looks like you were wrong. Nothing happened when you told Yelena, obviously. And nothing is happening right now, now that I know."
She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "For what it's worth, Fury helped me keep tabs on you. I saw how well you were handling things after the Blip. I was so proud of you."
Peter flushed under the praise, even as doubt still nagged at him. "But why now? Why all the secrecy?"
Natasha sighed. "There are still threats out there who would hurt you to get to me, Peter. I had to be sure it was safe before making contact." Her eyes were somber but warm. "But then last week, Yelena told me how you were struggling...I realized you needed me, protocol be damned."
At this, Peter felt the tight knot of hurt within him finally begin to loosen. She had put his well-being first, like she always did. She was here now, that was what mattered.
Throwing his arms around her again, he murmured, "I really missed you, Mom."
Natasha's breath hitched at the name, her arms tightening around him protectively. "I missed you too, sweetheart. So much."
They held onto each other until Peter's yawns gave away his exhaustion from the emotional evening. Natasha stroked his hair fondly. "Get some rest, паучок. We have a lot of catching up to do."
As Peter drifted off with his head pillowed on Natasha's lap, her steady fingers carding through his curls, he felt at peace for the first time in forever. With his mom back, the bitter cold that had settled in his heart since losing her finally began to thaw.