Chapter 4
It wasn't the first time he had been on the roof of his apartment, scanning the surroundings for anything suspicious.
It was the first time he had Yelena here, scanning with him, all sharp edges with familiar mannerisms.
She was not Natalia, and he knew that, even if Natalia had led her to him and asked for a favor.
A simple one, she had claimed. The Widows were free, but they needed a handler. They needed someone to come to if things went wrong.
It probably violated his probation.
But he had stopped caring about following the rules a long time ago.
"How are you holding up?" He asked, not looking away from the scope.
Yelena snorted. "I am not a lost puppy for you to gentle, Soldier. We are here for the same reason."
She was a practiced soldier, an assassin. She'd had five years to find her feet, even without the info dump Natalia had given her - directions he assumed were the same reason she had darkened his door soon after he had one.
Natalia had intended for them to be - something, he wasn't sure what.
"She said you'd taken it all down." He said, finally.
"I thought we had." Bitter, cold. "We hunted it until there were no echoes, no whispers. But ignore it for long enough and it will grow another head." She touched something at her breast, then dropped her hand. "And you, soldier?"
"Surviving." Trying, most days, but he was more successful now. "It's jarring."
"I imagine." She crouched. "I could almost feel jealous."
"Of who?"
She watched him for a long time, and offered no answer . "They killed her, your Avengers."
He nearly lifted his head from the rifle. "They're not 'my' anything."
"Hm. They killed her, just the same. A snap of their fingers brought everyone back except her."
And Steve.
But Steve had wanted to go, had left him behind by choice. Natalia....was not a choice.
Stark had made a choice, Steve had made a choice.
He wondered about Natalia, dreamed of her.
His fingers twitched on the trigger. Wanting a target - wanting anything. His lip curled in old reflex. Killing face, target face. Kill, maim, destroy.
"Is this a private session or can anyone join?" Sam's voice was an odd balm, his finger relaxed a bit on the gun, something in his brain relaxed.
The handler is here.
Yelena eyed Sam from across the roof, but didn't move from her position.
"It's fine, Sam." His words were thick, and took extra effort to get out of his head.
Malfunctioning.
"Any sign of movement? Or do we just want to be up here where it's cold?" Sam asked, after a thick, poised pause.
"Nothing. If they're tracking them here, they're not ready to make a move."
Reporting was easier, solid data.
"Then we should go back and let the drones keep an eye on things, warm ourselves up while we plan the next move." Sam had a way of talking, calm, steady.
It wasn't Steve's style, but it soothed the part of his brain that still needed direction, needed someone to order him around.
Yelena was quiet, watching him, head tilted in a way that made him feel more guarded about his expression.
He wanted Yelena to remain an ally, because Natalia had wanted them to be allies.
Wanted to remember the little girl who had gazed up at him with huge eyes and been too terrified to look away as he trained the awkwardness out of her body.
"We can go down." He allowed, glancing at her, trying to convey that she could trust Sam.
She didn't look like she bought it.
But she followed them down.