"we will look after each other now"
Peter swung through the concrete jungle of New York City, the cool night air whipping past his masked face. It was a quiet night for crime fighting, but he still felt compelled to go on patrol. It kept his mind occupied, kept him from thinking too much about...her.
Natasha.
Even months later, it still hurt to think about her. Natasha Romanoff, the legendary Black Widow, who had sacrificed herself on Vormir so the Avengers could obtain the Soul Stone and defeat Thanos. She had given her life for the universe, just as she had given so much of her life to protecting and guiding those around her. Especially Peter.
"Peter, I'm detecting a disturbance three blocks east of your location," the AI voice of Karen spoke suddenly in his ear. Peter was grateful for the distraction from his melancholic thoughts.
"On it, Karen," he responded, changing direction mid-swing. Within moments he arrived at a bank, where a group of ski-masked thieves were fleeing with large duffel bags of cash. Peter quickly webbed up their getaway van before dropping down in front of them.
"Hey fellas, you picked the wrong night for this," he quipped, shooting a web to yank the bag of money out of the nearest robber's hands.
"Get him!" yelled one of the thieves, and four of them rushed at Spider-Man at once. Peter leapt into action, punching and kicking while firing webs to disarm and incapacitate them.
"Is this everyone?" Peter asked aloud as he finished wrapping up the last criminal in a cocoon of webbing. Suddenly his spider sense tingled and he whirled around to see one last robber sneaking up behind him, wielding a heavy crowbar. But before Peter could react, a lithe figure dropped from above, kicking the thug squarely in the chest and sending him flying backwards. The figure, a woman with platinum blonde hair, dispatched the robber with ease using acrobatic martial arts moves that looked oddly familiar...
Peter's lenses widened in surprise as she turned to face him. "Whoa! Uh, thanks for the assist," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
The woman gave a curt nod, her face unreadable, before turning to leave.
"Wait!" Peter called out. "Who are you? Those moves...you really remind me of someone I used to know."
The woman paused, looking back over her shoulder warily. "I do not know this someone you speak of," she replied in an Eastern European accent.
Peter hesitated before making a split-second decision. He reached up and slowly peeled off his mask, revealing his youthful face and tousled brown hair. "My name's Peter," he said sincerely. "Peter Parker. And I think you knew Natasha."
The woman's eyes widened ever so slightly in recognition before her expression hardened again. But she seemed to reconsider leaving. With a resigned sigh, she turned and stepped towards him.
"My name is Yelena Belova," she said. "And yes...I knew Natasha."
Peter's heart quickened. He had never met Natasha's "sister" but now here she was, right in front of him. He had so many questions, but first...
"Is there somewhere we can talk safely?" Peter asked. Yelena considered this a moment before giving a single nod. Peter pulled his mask back on and quickly changed out of his Spider suit in a nearby alley before rejoining her. Together, they walked in silence to a small café down the street.
Once settled at a table with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, Peter finally spoke again. "I, uh, I looked up to Nat...to Agent Romanoff a lot," he started awkwardly, not quite meeting Yelena's intense gaze. "She helped recruit me to fight against Captain America during the whole Sokovia Accords thing. And then after, she just really took me under her wing, you know?"
Peter smiled fondly at the memories. "She turned into way more than just a mentor. She was...she..." He faltered, emotion clogging his throat.
"She was like a mother to you," Yelena finished gently. Peter looked up in surprise and saw understanding in her eyes.
"Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, she really was. I'd never had anything like that before. Someone looking out for me, caring about me, making sure I didn't get in over my head. I mean, she'd call and check in while I was on patrol, help bandage me up if I got hurt. And if I really messed up, she'd read me the riot act for worrying her." Peter chuckled, before his face fell. "I miss her so much," he admitted, his voice cracking.
Yelena reached across the table and gripped his hand tightly in shared grief. "She talked about you, you know. In her messages to me. She cared very deeply for you, Peter Parker. Saw you as the future of the Avengers." Yelena's voice grew thick with emotion. "Natasha was like a sister to me. We went through things together nobody should have to endure, things that bonded us for life. Her death..." Yelena trailed off, composing herself. "It shattered me. I know that pain all too well."
Peter clung to her hand like a lifeline, moved beyond words that Natasha had spoken of him to the sister she'd never gotten to reunite with in life. They sat in understanding silence for several long moments.
"Mom would've loved to see us meet," Peter finally said, smiling sadly. "She was always saying she hoped she could introduce us someday."
Yelena let out a watery chuckle. "Mom?" she questioned teasingly. "Does this make me your Aunt Yelena?"
Peter's face flushed in embarrassment. "Oh geez, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just presume--"
But Yelena shook her head, smiling warmly now. "It is alright, Peter. You are family. Natasha considered you family, so you are my family as well."
Peter returned her smile gratefully, though his eyes were bright with unshed tears behind his glasses.
They talked for a long time after that, exchanging stories about Natasha's fierce compassion, her bravery, her dry wit. The thread of grief wove through their conversation, but there was comfort and even occasional laughter too.
"Do you remember when she made us all celebratory pancakes after we defeated Thanos?" Peter asked with a nostalgic grin. "Only they were totally burnt and inedible. But she just shook her fist at the skillet and insisted we all eat them anyway to 'build character.'"
Yelena laughed aloud. "That sounds like my sister. She set her jaw in that determined way when she had something to prove." Her mirth faded. "I wish I could have fought by her side one last time. Been there with her at the end."
Peter's face fell, his thoughts turning back to that horrific moment when he'd learned of Natasha's death. "I wasn't there either," he said heavily. "I didn't know what was happening on Vormir. And then after, when Clint told us..." Peter trailed off, tears welling in his eyes at the painful memory. "I felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped out my heart," he admitted, his voice breaking as a tear slipped down his cheek. "I was so angry at first. Angry at Clint for letting her sacrifice herself. Angry at everyone who let her go to Vormir. But mostly just angry that she was gone. That I'd never get to talk to her or see her again."
Sobs began to shake Peter's shoulders. Yelena quickly moved to sit beside him, wrapping her arms around him as he wept into her shoulder. She rubbed his back soothingly, her own tears falling silently as Peter gave voice to the grief they both carried.
"It's my fault!" Peter cried. "If I hadn't gotten blipped by the snap, I would've been there! I could have stopped her, could have saved her!"
"Shhh," Yelena soothed, hugging him tighter. "Do not torment yourself with impossible what-ifs, Peter. What happened was not your fault. Natasha made her choice. As much as it hurts, we have to honor her sacrifice."
Peter clung to her, drawing comfort from her presence and her words. Slowly his sobs began to subside, leaving him feeling spent but calmer. He drew in a shaky breath as he sat up, gratefully accepting a napkin from Yelena to dry his eyes.
"I'm really glad I met you," Peter said hoarsely after a few moments. "Natash...Mom would be happy we have each other now." Saying that out loud brought fresh tears to his eyes, but also joy to think he still had family, even with Natasha gone.
Yelena gave him a bittersweet smile. "She would indeed be happy, little spider. We will look after each other now, as Natasha looked after us." She hugged Peter tight once more before rising from her seat.
Peter walked Yelena to her motorcycle, exchanging contact information and making promises to stay in touch. As they said goodbye, Peter was filled with grief but also hope. Natasha had brought them together, and in keeping her memory alive, their broken family could heal.