either way, we're not alone
The moment stretches on in complete silence, both girls taking a second to mull over the multitude of thoughts and feelings swimming in their heads, before either of them decided to speak. For Kate, thinking before speaking was definitely a new thing and she wasn’t sure she liked it all too much, but she was terrified that she’d otherwise say something else beyond dumb to Yelena after her heartfelt declaration of her Christmas favour for the archer.
Kate finally has had enough squirming under the blonde’s piercing gaze and decides to take the step to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Yelena… I–... I can’t thank you enough,” she takes a deep breath in, trying to regulate her emotions and to swallow down that gross, sinking feeling in the back of her throat that is a surefire sign she’s about to cry, “...you… don’t know how much this means to me…”, she chokes out.
Whoops, now she’s crying anyways. Great.
“It is okay, HawKate,” Yelena lets out a raspy whisper, “I am glad that you like it. I did try my hardest to make sure I could make it look similar and yes, it was quite hard to organise everything around the holidays and during such a short time-frame, but it was a pleasure”.
Yelena awkwardly pats the younger girl’s knee a few times with a gentle touch, trying her hardest to appear somewhat comforting. Internally, Yelena is one minute step away from absolutely freaking the fuck out; she’s never had to comfort any other person before, unless you count widows awakening from the mind-control serum (which she didn’t count; she just saw it as part of the job at this point), and she hoped to any higher divine power the she was doing it right. Judging by the way the brunette subtly curled into her the slightest bit whilst discreetly wiping at her watery eyes, Yelena assumed that she was doing alright.
After a few more seconds trying to catalogue and store her overwhelming influx of emotions, Kate takes a deep, shuddering breath, and pulls back from Yelena so that they’re now side-by-side as they were previously. Despite having more thoughts running through her hyperactive mind than usual, Kate decides to ask a question separate from her tender feelings, so she can try to get her emotional regulation under control in the background.
First, deep breath in, deep breath out. In. Out. Atta girl Kate!
“How did you manage to organise all of this, Yelena? And during Christmas?! Did you organise all of this from here in New York? How did you manage to decorate it so well?!” and most importantly , “and how the fuck did you get this couch, the waitlist is so long?!”
Listen, she really intended to ask a simple, logistical question about how Yelena managed to make her house into some sort of HGTV Dream Home, and technically she still did, but perhaps she also got a bit carried away. Oh well, at least it’s on-brand.
“Alright, Lady Hawk. One question at a time, but I will do my best to answer them,” the Russian speaks softly to her companion before standing up abruptly and letting her accented voice suddenly get several decibels louder and infinitely more excited as she nearly shouts, “...but first, drinks!”.
Internally, Kate shudders a bit, both because of Yelena's sudden volume adjustment as well as her earth-shattering hangover that she's been nursing since earlier in the morning (before Yelena’s gift of Tylenol had thankfully numbed the pain). Considering rejecting her offer and instead asking for a ginger ale or Gatorade, Kate peers sheepishly over at the blonde, who has an wide smile on her face stretching from ear to ear with such genuine mirth and happiness in her eyes that Kate thinks she’d be committing some heinous hate crime by not immediately saying yes to her every whim. And it would be SO unslay of me to commit a hate crime. Kate finally nods almost imperceptibly before shooting the blonde a wary smile, agreeing to the drink before Yelena launches into her tale of home renovations and holidays.
The archer briefly thinks that this seems exactly like the start of some cheesy romantic Hallmark holiday movie. At this, she feels her heart lurch longingly. Jesus Bishop, it’s about time to get laid again. This is getting fucking pathetic.
While Kate is going through all the different stages of grief before she finally lands on acceptance at having to drink again today, Yelena is busy studying her--but not in an intelligence-gathering spy manner, but rather with a look akin to that of admiration, almost like she was looking at a piece of art.
The assassin takes light, nimble footsteps towards the kitchen where she finds Kate’s fridge shockingly well-stocked on both the food and alcohol front. Arms full after grabbing the first bottle of white wine she sees, fresh fruit, a large wedge of brie, and a few crackers from Kate’s pantry, Yelena promptly returns to her perch on the couch next to Kate.
Holy shit is she sitting closer to me or is that just my imagination? Oh my–
“Here you are, Kate” Yelena interrupts Kate’s inner thoughts for the umpteenth time this afternoon and hands Kate a freshly poured glass of wine. When did she even have time to uncork it? When did she start calling me Kate? Am I finally losing it?
“Thanks, Yelena,” Kate smiles and accepts the offered drink before following with, “okay so tell me the tea!”
“The tea?” The archer notices that Yelena’s accent seems to get slightly thicker when confused.
“You know…like… the– the drama…or like…the whole story?”
“Is this one of the American youth slang-terms?”
“Uh, yeah I guess so…?” Kate adds unconvincingly.
Before Kate could even begin to explain the fact ‘spill the tea’ is probably some absurd gen-z phrase, Yelena whips out this little notebook from one of the pockets on her vest, flips to the next available page that has already been titled ‘American phrases’ and scribbles down ‘spill the tea’ in rapid but uniform script. Holy shit! How many pockets does she have on that thing?! How did that notebook even fit? Where the fuck can I get one? And, damn I could really use some handwriting lessons from her, my God.
The entire time that Yelena has been in Kate’s apartment today (and she supposes last night as well), she’s been wearing this green sort of utility vest. It was nothing completely out of the ordinary, but it definitely confused the whole vibe of the outfit that Yelena was going for with her wide-leg jeans, Doc Martens, and vibrantly coloured floral puffer jacket on top of it all. With the coat hanging by the door and the vest now set to the side after the blonde locates her notebook and miniature pencil, Kate can finally get a look at the graphic t-shirt that Yelena is wearing and she can’t decide whether she thinks it completely pulls the outfit together, or if it makes the Russian look deranged. Smack dab in the centre of her shirt is an anthropomorphic avocado holding a banana (seemingly aimed as a firearm), and captioned with the phrase, ‘I am become death, the destroyer of worlds’.
“I, uh, like your shirt” Kate adds meekly while Yelena is rooting around her vest pockets to redeposit the notebook and pencil.
“Thank you very much Kate Bishop!” the blonde’s voice is overflowing with pride at Kate’s compliment and the archer can’t help but feel that her genuine smile is contagious. Smiling broadly back at her, Kate asks her for the story behind the shirt, which launches them into a long and surprisingly detailed story about the Manhattan Project, the American agriculture industry, and anaphylactic allergies (apparently the woman that Yelena bought the shirt from at the flea market made the shirt as a gag-gift to herself when she found out she was deathly allergic to both avocados and bananas; and yes, Yelena assures Kate that it is, in fact, possible to be deathly allergic to both of those foods, despite Kate’s scepticism). Whack.
Once the lore of the strange t-shirt had been explained in full, Yelena had returned the compliment to an extent, appreciating Kate’s stupidly punny t-shirt that reads, ‘bow before the queen’ with a screen-printed computer image of a recurve bow wearing a tiara in the foreground. The recognition that flashed across the archer’s face when she realised she was wearing one of her archery pun t-shirts caused her to flush a deep pink and encouraged Yelena to laugh some more, which unfortunately made Kate blush even redder.
“Okay small Hawkeye, I will tell you the story” Kate sits up slightly straighter, attempting to appear more serious at the slight redirection of the conversation and the use of a marginally more serious nickname, causing Yelena to let out another breathy chuckle.
“On Christmas Eve night, you know I did not kill Barton,” Kate nods and giggles a bit when she’s pretty damn sure she hears Yelena mumble “unfortunately” before continuing on. “We talked. We talked about my sister...about Natasha. They were best friends for decades and I was so angry because somehow this hurt so much more than the possibility that Barton was responsible for her death. So before you came to the ice rink after your fight with the Kingpin, I ran away and then I was so embarrassed because I have never run away before, Kate Bishop. Never.” The brunette continues listening intently, but places her left hand on Yelena’s leg next to her as a sign of support, where it is quickly covered by the blonde’s hand as well. At this, Kate feels that familiar, although dormant, jumping feeling in her stomach because let’s be frank, Yelena is fucking gorgeous and I'monly human, what would you expect? Forcing herself to remain engaged in the moment and listening actively, Kate pushes these thoughts aside, focusing on Yelena’s words and the encyclopaedia of emotions she's able to display on her face when recounting her story.
“That night, I finally let myself be sad about my sister and because I had been avoiding it for so long, it hurt even more than I ever thought it could.” Yelena pauses and takes a cavernous, rattling breath to calm her intense wave of sadness. “So much of our lives were spent apart but there was never a day that passed that I didn’t think of her. Once we were reunited, she tried so hard every day to tell me how beautiful life could be now that I was free from the Red Room’s mind control. (Okay we're gonna revisit the mind-control thing sometime in the future because ummmm what?) She reminded me that I had a family that I loved and that loved me back, in their own twisted way. She spoke frequently about how her friends within the Avengers were like family, and she told me about when she found something more with someone special. I never believed that us widows could have anything like this, especially after we had spent our whole lives creating such pain and hurt, but seeing her do it...seeing her live this life and find happiness and love, I started to think it was possible for me as well.”
“I know you think I am going on a long scary tangent about finding love and I assure you Kate Bishop, do not worry for I am not confessing my undying love for you and I have not immediately fallen heel-over-head for you—”
“Uh… totally bad time to interject but I think you mean ‘head over heels’ maybe?” Kate can’t resist from blurting out.
“I suppose I do, Kate Bishop. I suppose I do.”
“Okay sorry. I’m sorry. Continue please.” The brunette looks at her expectantly.
“Well, Kate, as I was saying, my sestra told me that I needed to experience life now that I was free, and I realised that night, after I decided not to kill Barton, that I needed to make sure she did not die in vain. I had to make sure that I lived my life the way Natasha would have wanted. The next day, I called Valentina, my former employer, and told her that I was done taking her contract work and that I was starting a new chapter of my life, leaving behind the killing and the pain, which she finally accepted once I used a few thinly veiled and painstakingly detailed threats towards her and everyone she loves.”
At this point, Kate isn’t at all surprised that Yelena was capable of creating a threat so disturbing that she could get out of anything she didn’t want to do, so she just continues to nod and keeps her hand firmly planted on Yelena’s leg, offering the slightest bit of comfort and camaraderie that she can in the moment.
“Well then, I remembered that Natasha told me that I needed to be ‘more social’. Stupid sestra. Then I remembered that I had one person that I had met since being freed that I thought was funny and I enjoyed spending time with, so I decided to pay you a visit Kate Bishop. But lo and behold, when I arrive for the drinks I was promised on Christmas Eve you are long gone for the holiday. But since I am obviously the best spy and assassin in the world, I quickly found out you were staying with Barton and his dumb family for Christmas. So against all my better judgement, I called Barton.”
“Oh my God! That was you?? You were the one that called Clint on Christmas right before dinner?! He said he was getting a call from an encrypted number and let out this weird grumpy pout noise and stood up from the table and headed into the living room where he was whispering to someone on the phone. That was you?” Wow I did not see this coming. The brunette has returned to her rapid-fire questions as her mouth moves a mile a minute piecing together all this new information.
“Yes Little Hawk, that was me. I called Barton and explained to him my plan of rebuilding your wet and burnt apartment as a Christmas present and as an apology for our fights before the holiday–-before you say anything, I did NOT try to throw you off a building but rather, put you on a wire to remove an obstacle!–- and he agreed right away. I do not know if he only agreed because he felt guilty or if he felt like he owed this to Natasha and frankly, I do not care because I still think Barton is dumb. He explained where I could find the spare apartment key and he gave me your flight details so I would have a rough timeline for when I would need to finish all of the work. I begrudgingly asked for his advice on a few of the decor pieces (Yelena then motions over towards all of Kate’s new archery paraphernalia) and I got to work ordering furniture, painting, and building. And yes, Little Hawk, before you ask, I did have to threaten some people with grievous bodily harm if they did not comply with my abnormally tight schedule but alas, I did not have to maim anyone this time”. The blonde finishes her spiel and her wild gesticulations, sparing a fleeting and unsure gaze towards the brunette. Once their eyes meet and Yelena finds nothing but appreciation and gratitude in Kate’s polar blue eyes, the assassin lets her expression soften completely, huffing out a breath of relief that seemingly, both her present and its explanation were well-received.
That’s what Yelena thought, until Kate started crying. Scratch that, when Kate started sobbing.
“Kate! Kate, I am so sorry. I did not mean to upset you!” Yelena rushes out, Russian accent mushing some of the words together in her haste. Just as the blonde goes to remove her hand from atop Kate’s in fear of vastly overstepping, the brunette does something wildly unexpected. Kate thrusts her hands around Yelena’s small but muscular frame in a …hug? It is strong and warm and makes Yelena feel like sparkles. The widow has only ever been hugged by one other person in her adult life: her sister. She never thought she would allow someone else to touch her like this, much less even enjoy being embraced by a lanky, awkward, but painfully beautiful and gentle archer. Both girls know that they’ve been hugging for just a little bit too long, but they’re simply too happy and comfortable with one another in this moment to pull apart. After what feels simultaneously like an eternity and only a nanosecond, Yelena hesitantly withdraws from the hug, bright hazel eyes staring into Kate’s blue, as she gingerly wipes away the remainder of the younger woman’s tears from her delicate face and tucks a stray few strands of dark brown hair behind her ear.
Kate had absolutely no idea how to even begin to thank Yelena for everything. Not just for completely renovating her apartment, buying her new furniture, and not killing Clint, but also for her companionship right now. She is still feeling an overwhelming amount of confusing emotions and therefore resolves to find a way to hopefully demonstrate her thankfulness to the blonde for her kindness in turn, but resigns to the fact she must wait to brainstorm until after a long night of non-concussed, non-hungover sleep. How will I ever be able to tell her how much this all means to me? After everyone else in my life has disappeared? Yelena chose to do this for me? She chose to be here for me right now?
Yelena seems to recognise the gratitude tenfold but also realises that the brunette seems to be getting awfully tired. She gently removes Kate’s hand from hers and gets slowly gets up, making her way towards the door. The archer must have an expression of a sudden sadness and hopelessness written all over her face, prompting the widow to speak words of reassurance, “Do not worry Little Hawk. I will be back in the morning if this is alright with you. It is clear that you need some sleep. You have had a long few days. Please go to sleep early and in your bed. I know how comfortable and perfect your new couch is, but you and Lucky must get some proper sleep this evening. I will see you tomorrow, Kate Bishop? Pizza Dog?”
“I will see you in the morning, Yelena. Thank you again…for everything”. With these parting words, Yelena reaches for the door handle and is out of the door with immense grace and a speed that should be largely incompatible with one another.
That night, if Kate struggles to go to sleep because of the almost painful grin permanently etched onto her face from a certain Russian ex-assassin, nobody needs to know.