Kate Bishop enjoys a relaxed and well deserved Christmas with the Barton family and stays with them into the new year. But once she returns home to New York, she finds that someone had been waiting for her to get back from her holiday vacation.
A ce...
This is probably the shortest chapter so far at just 600 ish words but it's a bit of a doozy so
Content warnings: Natasha, blood, grief
The blood comes off of her hands and face easily enough with the help of melted snow from a drainpipe, and Yelena has thrown her coat back on over the leather of her stealth suit before slowly making her way back to Kate's apartment. There's a jauntiness to her step that would rightfully terrify anyone who knew why it was there in the first place, but the assassin doesn't really care to mind that. The city is more and more alive around her the farther away she gets from the crime scene, and the barest hint of light was starting to tint the sky, ever-so slowly.
She's walking for only about 20 minutes before she sees the Avengers dedication plaque, and Yelena freezes.
Natasha's name stares at her from the stone and metal, written out in a strong font but still so plain. The air escaped Yelena's lungs from her parted lips, and tears sprung to her eyes. She was a little girl again, happy and naive. Playing with her older sister. Sitting at the table with her perfect American family.
But it was not to be.
"Natasha," Yelena choked out, her throat tight and hot with the tears in her eyes. She strode up closer to the plaque, hovering her hand over her sister's name before tracing each delicate, loving letter with her thumb. "My Natasha."
She's small and protected, so ignorant, so excited for her life. She loved her mom, her papa, but her sister above all.
"Oh, Natasha," she wails, sliding down to her knees and pressing her forehead against the cold stone. "Natasha, I miss you. I miss you so much." Yelena lets the sobs shake her body, gives herself this moment to be vulnerable and broken and alone. "I wish- I had been there with you, had a chance to stop you. Find another way." She doubled over her knees, one hand still up on the plaque. "It could've been me instead of you. I would have done it. Anything for you."
A month ago, she had been planning Clint Barton's death. His picture on the tablet offered to her had seared itself into her mind, branding her eyelids and haunting her sleep as she planned and coordinated and traveled to find him. She was blind. Lost. So angry and heartbroken that she thought of nothing but how much better she would feel once Barton had a sword through his stomach.
She had been so ready to kill him. He lied and lied again, and let Natasha sacrifice herself. He was why she was gone. He was the reason Yelena felt only pain.
But then Clint had whistled, and Yelena's heart had stopped dead in her chest.
For a split second, she had imagined that she would turn around and find her sister there, smile wide and arms open. But Barton had struggled to sit up, tears streaming down his face as he grieved the same woman that she did, and Yelena had to accept it then. Natasha told him about the whistle. She trusted him, loved him. He said that Natasha talked about her all the time, and Yelena's mind had gone blank of anything but how much she would give to see her sister just one more time.
A month ago, Yelena had been planning to kill the one person who loved Natasha as much as she did. And now, she would forever be grateful he still walked the earth.
"I love you so much," Yelena whispered, her cries coming down to a whimper. "You were my everything. My Natasha."
Forgive me, little sister. It was real to me, too.
Am I balling my eyes out? Yes. Yes I am.
Translations: none
Kate Bishop counter: 0
QOTD: do you like to take walks?
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