No More Excuses//Katelena

7: Vodka Will Fix Us

Hello!! I need to cuddle them so bad I will die

Content warnings: talk of alcohol, depression, almost panic attack, the gays gaying so hard

It took Yelena a moment to even realize that the apartment wasn't empty when she ducked in through the window. But she spotted Kate's combat boots and purple flannel dumped by the door, and Lucky's head appeared by the stairs. She smiled softly at him and continued to scan the open space for the archer.

"Kate Bishop?" Yelena called out softly, a little apprehensive about the silence. In the brief time she had known her, Yelena realized that Kate loved to talk. Not in a bad way, per se, but she always had a lot to say and a lot to feel about everything. And if she wasn't talking, she was humming, or laughing, or making strange little noises with her mouth. The quiet was strange. Yelena knew Kate wasn't always in the best headspace, of course, as she had found the woman's medications and a few notes about therapy and some other sensitive topics (which Yelena put away immediately once she realized how personal it was).

"Kate Bishop!" Yelena walked further into the apartment, greeting Lucky with a pat on his head. There was a grumble from Kate's loft bedroom, and Yelena headed up the stairs. "You better not be naked, Kate Bishop, because I'm coming up and Lucky doesn't need to be scarred so early into his life."

Kate didn't respond, and when Yelena got to her bed, the archer didn't move from where she lay face down in her pillows, completely prone.

"Are you dead, Kate Bishop?"

"I wish I was," came a garbled voice, her fingers twitching.

Yelena's brow furrowed, and she stopped from where she had been about to turn Kate over onto her back to poke at her cheeks and make her stand up. Something was clearly wrong with the archer, who looked more bedraggled the longer she looked.

"Kate Bishop," Yelena said softly, letting her mother shine through as she carefully sat on the bed, "are you alright?" She dared to rest a hand on Kate's back, her fingers pressing softly into the nook of her shoulder blade.

Kate jolted at the contact, her head flying up to look at Yelena. Her dark hair fell over her face in a messy wave, and Yelena brushed it away with her free hand, concern pursing her lips. Kate's eyes were large and watery, the blue shining with tears both unshed and not. They stuck to her thick eyelashes and she almost seemed to glow, and Yelena thought it was very strange to think that when her friend (they were friends, right?) was clearly upset.

"Kate, what happened?" she asked gently, her thumb rubbing a gentle circle into the nape of her neck. Yelena could feel something strong bubbling in her stomach. She didn't know how to comfort. No one ever taught her, and the only person who could've was gone. And yet here she was, trying anyway.

Kate stared at her, her bottom lip stuck out in an almost pout that Yelena was tempted to poke at. She didn't realize that her fingers were still hooked behind Kate's ear to keep her hair out of her face until she leaned into her palm, eyes closing as a fresh wave of tears overtook her.

This was where Yelena's limited capabilities fell short.

Kate seemed to notice Yelena's hesitant expression, because she pulled away and pressed her face back into her pillows. "Sorry," she mumbled, voice wobbly and borderline sobbing. It was clear she was making an effort to calm herself, but her shoulders quivered and the tautness of her muscles told Yelena just how much she was struggling.

The assassin may not be good at girls, but she was good at alcohol.

"Let's go get those drinks, Kate Bishop. I do not know what ails you, but a good beer or two and plenty of vodka will help you feel better."