Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Natasha padded through the dark hallways of Stark tower, tea in hand. She’d woken up around midnight and, after the fifth turnover, decided to get up. While Natasha didn't doubt that half the team was up this late, she hadn’t bothered with pants. The only people she encountered in the kitchen at night were Clint or Sam, but either they’d seen her in much more compromising states or were far too polite for her to care. 

Natasha stopped dead in her tracks just before the door to her flat, taking in her surroundings. There was a slight noise beyond the door that anyone else would've dismissed as other tenants, but Natasha knew better than that. Unfortunately for her, a t-shirt and underwear aren't exactly prime locations to stash weaponry. 

She placed her tea next to the door frame, hoping she’d finish up here before it got cold. She pushed open the door, JARVIS wordlessly unlocking it as her hand brushed against the knob. Before the door swung open even past halfway, Natasha reached in, letting her fingertips graze against the small wooden table next to her door until she hit a small blade. She hadn’t exactly expected to be using the knife from that side of the door. 

She hadn’t had time to search for the assailant. Instead, small, delicate hands gripped her wrist and throat, pushing her into the wall. Natasha could’ve easily fought back, but she faltered for a moment. It was apparent that the hands around her had no intention of causing injury.

“It’s me.” Pretty blue eyes stared up at her, ones she’d know anywhere. 

Yelena’s grip loosened after a moment, allowing Natasha to hesitantly return the knife to where it belonged. 

“You should’ve called ahead,” Natasha told her as she swung the door shut. Her voice was flat and humorless, causing a frown to fall over Yelena’s face. “You have my number for a reason.” 

A large drop of blood flittered from the back of Yelena’s elbow as if on cue. “I’m sorry.” 

Natasha wasn’t sure if the woman was apologizing for her actions or the mess, but she didn’t waste any time thinking about it, whisking Yelena into the bathroom. Natasha wordlessly slipped the woman’s shirt over her head, glancing at the wound. It was a large gash into the mussel of her shoulder, edges jagged and protruding. 

“You’re going to need stitches,” Natasha told her, allowing her voice to fall to a whisper. 

Yelena’s head hung a bit. She sniffled, allowing her gaze to unfocus as she retreated into her head. Blood had spread entirely down Yelena’s back, crisping around the edges. Natasha sighed, realizing they would need a towel, and slipped from the room. She took longer than she needed to or should have, but she couldn't help herself. She took slow, steady steps, forcing her heartbeat to return to a normal pace. 

When she returned to the bathroom, towel in hand, Yelena was crouched over the floor, wiping up blood into a small trash can. Natasha cringed at how the color clashed with the bathroom’s off-white tiles.  

Natasha abandoned the cloth onto the sink, crouching in front of her. “You don’t have to do that.” 

Natasha slipped the tissue from Yelena’s hand, dropping it into the trash can. Then, carefully, she maneuvered Yelena to sit on the edge of the bathtub, allowing easy access for Natasha to pull off her jeans.

Yelena moved into the tub, huffing as her shoulder tensed around the wound with her movements. Meanwhile, Natasha filled the tub, flicking water at the blonde, who offered nothing but a small smile before dunking herself under the water. 

 “JARVIS, is there any way we can keep this between us?” Natasha asked the room as she pulled out a washcloth. 

After a moment, a light ping filled the room, announcing the A.I.’s presence. “Since what Mr. Stark likes to call “The Bird Incident,” I’ve been asked to report all suspicious activity, but… I will see what I can do, Ms. Romanoff.”

Yelena let out a breathy laugh against the knees she had curled to her chest. “Only you could charm a heartless machine.” 

“If this is your attempt at charming me , I’m afraid it’s not going to work,” Natasha scolded, though her eyes betrayed her faux annoyance. 

“I suppose that we will see.” 

Their conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as Natasha raised the cloth, allowing the warm water to run through the injury. Even after a moment, the water had turned pink, though neither of them was particularly bothered by it. Finally, Natasha grabbed a pump of soap onto the washcloth, diluting it under the bath water for a moment before returning it to the wound. 

Yelena clenched her jaw as the suds ran down her back. Instead of saying anything, she kept her forehead against her knees, eyes closed. Yelena focused on her unsteady breaths, allowing her body to make no more sound than it took to expel the air in her lungs. She knew Natasha would never take advantage of her impotence, but everything in her screamed that to show weakness was to expect death. 

Yelena’s head shot up as a hand reached her side. Natasha stilled at the sudden movement, only to gently squeeze Yelena’s upper arm. After a moment, Yelena relaxed, but she didn't return her head to where it once was. Instead, Yelena pressed her cheek against Natasha’s fingers, ignoring the stinging sensation that filled her body as she did so. 

“How do you sit there and do this for me?” Yelena muttered. Natasha gave her a confused look, pushing her to continue. “You have no idea what I could have done to deserve this injury.” 

Natasha sighed, dropping the washcloth into the tub. She sat against it, pulling away her hand and allowing her hair to lean dangerously close to the water behind her. “Anything you could have done, I have done worse. And so have you.” 

Yelena leaned to the side, pressing her ear against the porcelain to stare closely at Natasha’s face. “You are atoning for it, Natasha. I am… Sitting in the damage I have caused.”  

“I left you once. I won't make those same mistakes,” Natasha deflected, staring up at the smooth ceiling. “And maybe I don’t hate having you around.”

Yelena’s eyes widened for a moment but soon hid under a facetious facade. “I take back what I said about you being a charmer.” 

Natasha slapped Yelena’s forearm, earning an offended glare, but Natasha only smiled. Natasha’s slipped her hand’s on either side of Yelena’s torso, pivoting her in place to allow her hair to hang over the tub. Yelena looked at her in confusion, though she soon seemed to understand as Natasha dried her hair with the previously abandoned towel. 

Yelena began to sit up after the towel had been dropped to the floor, but Natasha tugged her back by a strand of hair. Natasha dragged her fingers against the woman’s scalp, parting it down the middle. Then, after a moment, she carefully began pulling Yelena’s hair into a tight braid, combing through the knots and caked in grime as she went.    

Half an hour later, Yelena lay on her side, dry, stitched up, and in Natasha’s bed. She burrowed further into the flannel sheets, almost wrapping herself in them before Natasha joined her under the covers. 

“Am I allowed to have any of these blankets?” Natasha mumbled, though her joke was met with a small, empty stare. “What’s the matter?” 

Pain flashed briefly over Yelena’s eyes before her hand emerged from the depths of the dark green comforter. Yelena grazed her fingers against the underside of Natasha’s jaw before finally cupping the redhead’s cheek in her hand. Yelena’s voice was soft and tentative, unlike her usual self. “I want you to come home to Ohio with me.” 

“I can’t do that. I have a life here. A job.” Natasha closed her eyes, reveling in the touch while it lasted. She waited for Yelena to pull away, but that time never came. Natasha let her eyes flutter open once more to be met with Yelena’s face inches from her own. 

“You could have a life with me. You never know.” Yelena was close enough now that Natasha could feel the blonde’s breath against her skin as she spoke. “Maybe I could renovate houses.”

Natasha reached out in place of a response, it was painstakingly evident to Yelena that the woman was avoiding the conversation, but she didn't mind too much once Natasha’s hand snaked under her shirt. 

The smell of pancakes wafted through the kitchen as Steve began cooking with Bucky’s assistance. Tony watched over his mug of coffee as the two bickered over whether or not sprinkles were an appropriate topping for breakfast food. 

“You brought me to get donuts yesterday,” Bucky huffed, tossing the shaker of sprinkles up into a nearby cupboard. “But now I can’t put sprinkles on my damn pancakes.” 

“It’s sugar on sugar, Buck. Those donuts were potato based. They use unprocessed sugar there. Everything is so much better for you today; I’m just saying diabetes is a real thing,” Steve began, but Bucky quickly cut him off before he could continue. 

“Oh, not this again. I’m a grown hundred-year-old man. If I wanna eat sugar, then so be it.” 

“Or should you say: So-vi-et,” Tony interrupted, staring intently between the two as if he were watching reality television. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes, replying in complete seriousness. “I shan’t.”

Before the conversation could continue, the light ping of JARVIS filled the room before the robot began to speak. “Mr. Stark, very early this morning, an unknown person entered the tower via Ms. Romanoff’s bedroom window, Sir.” 

Tony faltered, almost letting the mug slip from his fingers. He winced as hot coffee splashed onto his pants, quickly ushering for someone to pass him a napkin as he spoke through gritted teeth. “And is there a reason we shouldn't have known this last night? Because my slumber has never kept you from telling me anything before.” 

 “Unfortunately,” Tony tacked on after a moment of silence. 

“Because I have reason to consider her a non-threat. And because Ms. Romanoff asked me not to tell you,” JARVIS replied after a long wait. If a robot could sound pensive, this would be a prime example. 

Tony sighed. “Great, we’re taking orders from Romanoff now. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself getting a tune-up this afternoon.”

Bucky chuckled softly to himself. “Oh, yeah, definitely a non-threat.” 

Steve looked at him quizically as he flipped a row of pancakes on the griddle, seeming to have made a few with sprinkles, despite his protests. “Do you know something about this?”  

“Don’t worry about it, Pal. Just pull down another plate.” 

Tony briskly exited the room, passing Bruce as he entered the kitchen. He took the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently until he got to Natasha’s floor. Tony knocked twice, the noise he made preceding a large thump, followed by rushed footsteps. 

“Tony,” Natasha flatly said as she opened the door. She positioned herself between him and the room behind her, effectively blocking his view. 

“You know, you could've just told us you had a guest,” Tony jeered, looking her up and down with a self-satisfied grin plastered across his face. Natasha wore nothing but a sports bra and haphazardly thrown-on leggings.  “Feel free to invite them to breakfast too.” 

Natasha opened her mouth to say something in denial, but a voice behind her cut off her words. The blonde had come up behind her, close enough that the older widow could feel her body heat radiating off her. “Breakfast?” 

Anger burned in the back of Natasha’s throat as Tony’s grin spread wider. She pondered for a moment what it would be like to strangle him there in the hallway but decided the wrath of Pepper Potts was worth keeping him among the living. So instead, she slammed the door in his face. Hard. 

Yelena watched as Natasha grabbed a clean shirt from her closet and pulled it over her head. “I can slip out if you would like me to.” 

Yelena watched Natasha ponder the idea. She would never admit it, but the length of time it took for Natasha to decide hurt more than the answer could fix. Her body became imperceptibly rigid, yet Natasha seemed to perceive it anyway. 

“No. They already know you’re here. So you may as well come to have something to eat,” Natasha replied, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. The woman offered Yelena a pair of pants, but she shook her head. 

Natasha fled the apartment faster than either of them expected, leaving Yelena to sit on the edge of the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut as she closed the door, letting out a large sigh before heading towards the elevator. 

As she entered the kitchen, Sam had since joined them, sitting at the table next to Bruce and Tony. Sam let out a low wolf whistle as she entered the room while Bucky merely clapped. She didn't bother looking up at them, not wanting to see their expressions. Instead, she sat at the end of the table, resting her forehead upon it. 

After a long while, Natasha was almost sure Yelena had slipped away anyway until she heard the woman’s light footsteps in the distance. Yelena never walks in a way that gives away her position. Yelena wanted to be heard. She knew Natasha would doubt her reappearance and wished to quell her worries. Natasha tried her best to avoid how it made her heart rate pick up. 

“You are all a bunch of children,” Natasha told the group once she was sure her voice wouldn’t betray her. 

“Would that make you their mommy and me the daddy?” Yelena laughed as she finally made her way into the room. Natasha only groaned in response. 

Tony snickered from the other end of the table. “If there is anyone here playing the role of Mother Hen, it’s Steve Rogers. Assuming that little health lecture was anything to go by.”

“Oh, well then, I suppose we know who the dad is, don’t we?” Yelena grinned pointedly at Bucky, a suggestive hint laced in her tone. She brushed up next to him as she leaned over the counter, focusing her energy on the adorning coffee pot. He rolled his eyes in response. Yelena hadn’t been looking, but she knew him well enough to guess. 

“ты такая задница ^{you are such an ass}," Bucky mumbled, bumping together their shoulders. 

Yelena hummed in response, her lips twitching up into a smirk as she glanced over at Natasha’s hunched form. “она, кажется, ценит эту часть меня ^{she seems to appreciate that part of me} .” 

Natasha let out pained noise of annoyance. “Do not drag me into whatever you’re arguing over this time.” 

“This time? Have you been here before?” Steve interrupted. He didn’t turn to look at them, that is, until a vital question seemed to dawn on him. “Also, who are you?”

For a brief moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of a spoon swirling around a mug and deafening anticipation. Her face remained impassive as she collected both mugs in a singular hand. 

“Yelena Belova.” She reached out with her free hand, allowing a nonplussed Steve to shake it in return.

She left the question of whether she had been in the tower before up to the Avenger’s interpretation. Then, she brisked past the man next to her, moving to lean against the table next to Natasha. She sat up once the blonde got near, eagerly accepting the coffee.

Natasha held her mug by the handle, much unlike Yelena, who held it more like a cup than anything else. Yelena watched the woman take a long sip. The way Natasha held her mug intrigued her for some odd, irritating reason. Yelena had no idea how it could have been comfortable, yet it still seemed to be. After staring for a long moment, Yelena reached out a hand to push away Natasha’s stray hairs before the ends dipped into the dark liquid. Yelena’s fingers had barely inched toward her when Natasha brushed them away. Yelena frowned, confused at how Natasha could've known what she was doing and why she would've stopped it. 

Yelena withdrew herself, her body stiffening against the glass table. She looked to her left to find Sam looking up at her with an incredulous stare. From the look on his face, Yelena could tell two things. He didn’t like that she was in his space, and he was far from a morning person.

“You know there's an open seat right there,” Sam bristled, motioning to the empty chair across from him.  

Yelena glanced between the two seats for a moment, her eyes narrowing. Her reply was much more forceful than she had meant it to be. “You are the Falcon, no? A bird? Tell me about this ‘Bird Incident.’” 

“Oh, so that’s how it is? You wanna explain that, then?” Sam motioned toward the light bruising that trailed down Natasha’s neck and well past the collar of her shirt. “And don’t say hair straightener. My sister used that excuse on our parents too often for me to believe.”   

Natasha abruptly choked on her drink; she hadn't looked in the mirror before taking the elevator. Yelena reached out a hand before Natasha could push it away, wiping away stray coffee with her thumb. Natasha shot her a withering glare, shielding her coughs with the back of her hand.

Yelena ignored her, sending a wink in Sam’s direction instead. “That is a secret for another day, птичка.” 

Yelena pushed off the table, opting to sit in the open seat. An awkward silence fell over the room, something Steve soon remedied as he began serving plates of pancakes. His serving style seemed almost random. Bucky got his sprinkles, though the rest got an odd assortment of chocolate chips and berries. Natasha quickly swapped their plates, exchanging her chocolate chip for Yelena’s blueberry. A small smile grew on Yelena’s face, though Natasha’s remained flat at the act of kindness. 

“So, uh, how do you know- Bucky?” Bruce asked, looking up from his plate. The words felt awkward coming from his mouth; Yelena could tell he wanted to ask about Natasha, but she decided not to comment. 

Yelena took a moment, debating on how she should answer the question. “We knew each other in Russia.” 

“Oh, that’s nice.” 

Yelena barked a laugh. “Er, no. Definitely not a pleasure.” 

The room around her stilled at the implication in her words. She noticed Steve's eyes on her for longer than she felt comfortable, but instead of addressing it, she grabbed the syrup in front of her with a jolt. She poured much more than would be considered appetizing onto her meal before passing it to an eager Bucky. 

“I see you did not tell anyone about me; About Ohio,” Yelena mumbled, now addressing her words toward Natasha. 

Tony chuckled fondly into his food. “We’re lucky to get out of her what she had for lunch.” 

Yelena sighed, ignoring him. “Я понимаю, не рассказать им обо мне, об Алексее, а Мелине? Мама? Женщина, чьи слова сохранили тебя таким, какой ты есть ^{I understand not telling them about me, about Alexei, but Melina? Mom? The woman whose words kept you who you are} ?”

Natasha wanted to tell her that it had never come up in conversation, but they both knew that it had. The team's personal history had been a bonding topic more times than Natasha could count, and she’d shared nothing past the surface each time. 

“У меня нет привычки рассказывать людям о своей семье или о том, что человек, с которым я сплю, был моей фальшивой сестрой в течение трех лет, когда мне было девять ^{I don't make a habit of telling people about my family or that the person I sleep with was my fake sister for three years when I was nine} ,” Natasha dismissed, staring into the table. 

Yelena slumped her shoulders inward, pushing down the pit in her stomach. Then, finally, she forced a light, prodding tone. “Maybe you should. That would be a PR goldmine to distract from your violent tendencies that you recently broadcasted to the world.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, reaching over to dig a thumb into Yelena’s shoulder. 

“Ah, сука. You know I have stitches there; you were the one to do them.” Yelena swatted her arm with the back of her hand. “You are only proving my point, Natty. You are like angry bear.” 

Natasha mumbled a half-hearted “shut up” as a smile penetrated her uncaring facade.

“Aww. She doesn't let anyone call her Natty,” Tony cuts in, ruining Yelena’s brief victory. 

“I am not anyone. I invented calling her Natty,” Yelena spit, though, by the look on his face, she could tell that Tony didn’t sense the anger in her voice. 

Natasha scoffed. “You can’t invent a nickname.” 

“No, but I did. I been calling you Natty since we were small. I know you remember; You loved it.” 

Their conversation was cut short by the elevator's ding as Maria Hill stepped out. A large clip pinned up her hair at the base of her neck, a SHIELD issue tablet in hand. Yelena wondered where the use of a paper and pen went while she’d been away from society. 

“My apologies,” Hill began, dropping the device behind her back. “I wasn't aware you had a guest.” 

“Oh, no, we don’t have a guest. Natasha does,” Tony grinned, grateful he’d been out of reach of the woman. 

“Yes. Thank you, Stark, for being my eyes while I clearly do not have them,” Hill bristled in annoyance before turning her attention to the whole of the group. “A new HYDRA base has been located. We’ll need you out there as soon as possible before they catch wind of our knowledge.” 

“Clint?” Natasha asked, referring to his whereabouts. 

“En route to the Triskelion. You’ll need to find the appropriate SHIELD operatives to accompany you, seeing as you’re down a god from space.” 

Yelena perked up at her words, shoveling a large forkful of sweets into her mouth as she spoke. “What about me?” 

Maria quirked a brow at her unprofessionalism, glancing between her and Natasha. “What experience do you have, exactly?” 

Yelena grimaced, letting out a low chuckle. She didn’t expect it to be that easy; Yelena half expected to monologue a large part of her childhood to convince the woman, yet her reply, or lack thereof, seemed more than satisfactory.

Chapter Text

“Alright, stick to the plan. We go in, we take the place, and we get out. No funny business.” Steve announced, pointedly glaring at Natasha with his last comment, who smiled sweetly back at him.

“That is an awful plan,” Yelena muttered, but she knew they had heard when Tony started laughing. “Just drop me over top of the building, I’ll clear it out so the rest of you ostriches can parachute down.”

“Ostriches?” Sam frowned.

“Yeah, you know, they are flightless. Some of us cannot fly, Samuel.”

Natasha snorted at her comment as they all prepared for the mission, except for Bucky, who wouldn’t be joining them due to the nature of the mission. Clint was flying the plane, while the rest were mercurially preparing guns, shields, and suits. After a few moments, Clint informed them they were just overhead their desired location and put the jet into stealth mode as he moved out of the front to open the aircrafts door.

Yelena walked towards the now open door, completely bypassing the parachutes, which gained many concerned and confused looks from some of the team members.

“You gonna make me jump out after you again?” Natasha laughed while she approached.

“Maybe,” She turned her head momentarily to let out a shallow breath before looking back to her. “This’ll be fun.”

Yelena slowly closed her eyes, and fell backwards out of the plane. The Avengers were quick to react and began to rush out and only did they stop when they found that Natasha had not reacted. Stark leaned over the edge, looking out to see that Yelena had shot a wire into the underside of the jet and was slowly gliding down, landing on the concrete roof of the building below.

“Well, shit,” was all he said.

She dropped to the floor with a thud, thinking of Natasha’s super hero pose and fell into a crouch. She quickly sidestepped behind what she assumed was a fan, listening to the approaching footsteps from around the corner. As soon as she could see his foot move in front of the fan, she was on the move. She used the weight of her body to gain momentum in kicking out his right knee, which completely snapped the wrong way. Before he could let out a scream, she rushed to bash the man’s head into the corner of the metal and dragged him to the edge of the building, throwing him off.

The next guard stationed on the building was a sniper holding a rifle, looking out over the land. A look out, she thought. She came up behind him, pushing him out of the way and hitting in the head with the butt of his own gun, effectively knocking him out, and again, throwing him over the wall. A bad one.

The building was fairly large, but they only seemed to have three guards stationed on the roof, two in opposing corners and one that was free roaming. The last one was also a sniper, but this one didn’t seem to be paying attention to his job and was instead smoking a cigarette. He was sitting on top of another metal box, also probably containing fan, looking out onto the field. His gun was still propped to the wall, so Yelena made her way closer, making sure to walk directly behind the sitting man. She grabbed the rifle, shooting him in the back of the head before he could protest, and snatching the, somehow not bloody, cigarette from his hand for herself.  

Tony, Sam and Thor had all dropped out of the jet with ease, while Natasha, Steve and Clint slowly made their way down. Bruce had stayed, waiting to make sure he was absolutely necessary. Yelena made her way to the door to find it locked via keypad. She could see Tony approaching behind her, probably with some fancy tech, but she waved him off as she popped off the cover to the keys. She had familiarized herself with these types of locks throughout her years carrying out Red Room missions and found that if you thought about it, they weren’t too hard to work around. She ripped out the wires from the underside of it, finding the two that looked right and then stripping them to connect them. The door popped open just in time for the remainder of the team to touch down. 

“Wow, really, just wow. Can I say? You looked very good doing that.” Tony said after a moment, opening down the mask of his suit.

Natasha hit him as she passed, “No, you may not.”

“Just cause your relationship has issues, doesn’t mean hers does.” Sam laughed.

“Oh, no, me and Pepper are very happy.”

“I don’t think that makes it better,” Yelena mused as she put out her cigarette and started down the steps.

They find that the building has two upper levels and a basement, and decide to split up. Sam, Tony and Yelena were to go to the basement, while Natasha, Clint and Steve would take the second floor, and they would reconvene in the middle.

The first group had separated from the rest fairly quickly, considering how close the second floor was, but as Yelena opened the stairwell door to the basement, she could hear Steve over the comms.

“Banner, you’re going to need to land the quin jet out front,” He paused to grunt as he got hit, “We’re definitely going to need an appearance from the other guy sometime soon.”  

She could hear Stark sigh behind her as she entered the floor, only to find it suspiciously empty. The rooms lining the walls were all completely fled of people and looked as if they were evacuated in a hurry. Each room had a large glass window into the hallway, while the inside was completely covered in some sort of padding. The hallway itself was a mess, there were carts the looked as if they were once used for meds and personal items everywhere. This wasn’t too odd, until Yelena realized that these “personal items” were all identical, each stuffed animal, each blanket and each article of clothing that were spread across the floor were all exactly the same as the last.

Sam quickly caught her attention, pointing to the room at the end of the hall. The door was cracked and there was a soft glow of a table lamp creeping through, rather than just the strong white light. Yelena pulled out her hand gun from her belt, leading the group down the hall. Her and Sam were crouching against the wall, while Tony seemed to forget what stealth was, or perhaps his suit just wasn’t built for it, as he walked next to them. As they approached, they could hear rushed shuffling and the quite clicks of a key board, like someone was rushing to gather something.

Tony entered the room first, not bothering to be quiet as he busted through the door, aiming his repulsor at the occupant. The person in question, now facing them, was a slightly older man, who was attempting to move over files onto a thumb drive, but was doing so in the slowest manner possible. Idiot, Yelena thought to herself.

“Hi there,” Tony’s voice muffled through the metal suit. “Wanna tell me what you’re putting on that drive there?”

The man choked loudly at the sudden intrusion, if Yelena was just a bit luckier, he would have choked and died on the spot. After the fit had passed, he chuckled a bit.

“Something funny, grandad?” Tony spoke once more.

“Quiet, actually. The Avengers, here for me, with her.” He laughed again, now looking at Yelena. “I wonder if you know who you’re working with. If you were to leave me living, Id be so kind as to tell you who she really is. You see, Yelena Be-” He didn’t get to finish, Yelena had put a bullet in his head, splattering the screens behind him in blood. The body collapsed to the floor and she could hear a muffled sound of distress coming from the man in the suit and sudden exclamations from Sam next to her. She gritted her teeth, rushing up to the screens, but what she found made her eyes widen in fear.

On the screen in front of her was a complex ingredient list and directions to replicate the widow’s synthetic anti-mind control gas. The worst part was the file next to it, pertaining research in reverse engineering it to their advantage with a small note reading “per sample data”. As well as that, there were many old Red Room files about its origins and info on a handful of widows. Widow’s that she knew Antonia had recently freed. Her stomach dropped as she read, nausea setting in.

Tony hesitated momentarily, obviously contemplating the words that the recently deceased man had spoken. “What is it?”

Yelena ignored him but both men could see the fear set in on her face. She suddenly bowed her head, carefully lining up the edge of the table so it wouldn’t touch her nose, and then smashed her head against it. It wasn’t extremely hard, but the sound was loud enough to make her companions jump out of their skin. She could see Sam looking at her with concern written over his face out of the corner of her eye as she swiftly copied the rest of the files to the stick. As she was doing so, she noticed a mini fridge in the corner of all of the equipment. Grabbing the drive and rushing over, she found exactly what she was looking for, a pack of three red vials.

Before she could hear another word from them, she rushed up the stairs and out of the building. She could hear Tony and Sam following her, as well as the loud roaring and smashing of something inside the building. As she reached the now landed jet, she whipped out her phone, immediately dialing the number of the phone she had bought for Antonia. No answer. She called Melina.

“Mom, is Antonia there?” She asked, as soon as she heard the phone pick up, not waiting for her to say hello.

“Hello, I am doing well, also.” The sarcasm was livid. “No, she went out to free three widows in Bulgaria a few days ago, so she’s a bit busy, I assume.”

All Tony and Sam could hear next was a string of curses and Russian they couldn’t understand as the woman fell into a crouch on the ground, hanging up. They watched as Yelena pulled her head between her knees, breathing heavily enough that they could hear it feet away. Sam tried to approach.

He didn’t try to touch her, but once she had noticed him getting closer, she pulled out her knife, holding it at him. She fell to the side and pushed herself up against the jet; Tears were now streaming down her face and she could see the sympathy in his eyes. “I won’t let you touch me. You won’t.”

He quickly backed up, but still crouched down to be on the same level as her. If it weren’t someone she knew, they would’ve already been in shreds. She ran her free hand through her hair, stopping at her shoulder to dig her nails into the old wound as she continued to threaten the man with the knife. She needed something to ground her, to make her feel something else, so she pulled at the stitched until the wound came open, wincing slightly. She pulled her knees to her chest as she sobbed.

She could see Natasha across the field coming out of the building and break into a sprint as soon as she saw the other woman. She slowed as she got closer, and dropped to her knees in front of Yelena. She looked over to Sam and Tony momentarily, “What happened?”   

“There was this guy in the basement. He knew her and she freaked out,” Tony explained.

“Fuck.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but her teammates all looked at her in confusion. She turned her attention back to the woman. “Can I touch?”

Yelena paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, but eventually nodded. Natasha started by taking the knife, throwing it far out into the field and then taking her now bloody hand into her own. Yelena suddenly moved to hug her, wrapping her arms around Natasha so that her head was pressed against her neck.

“He knew my name,” Yelena sobbed. “He had it. Melina said she’s gone, she left.”

“Hey, take a second to breathe, you’re okay.”

“Talia, I can’t go back, I can’t. You can’t.”

“We won’t,” Natasha whispered, kissing the top of her head.

“I want to go back to Ohio.” Her voice was rough and shakier than Natasha had ever heard before and it was terrifying.  

“I know,” Natasha kept her voice as steady as she could and turned her attention to Tony once more, “I can’t be on lullaby duty right now.”

“On it.” He replied, taking off in his suit. She could see the team very disgruntled. Steve had entered the jet, feeling like it wasn’t his place to stay, while Clint was sitting on the edge of the aircraft’s open door and Sam still crouched in front of them.

“They were trying to rebuild it. The Red Room. They had the gas,” she said, calming down slightly as she tossed the vials and the thumb drive onto the grass. “Antonia isn’t answering her phone.”   

Natasha could piece together what was going on by then. Clint perked up at the mention of The Red Room, but Natasha just gave him a look that said I’ll tell you later.

After a long duration of consoling, Yelena finally agreed to board the plane but insisted that she would only sit in the corner. Just as they had gotten comfortable, Tony entered with a shirtless Bruce, who immediately rushed to a pair of headphones.

Once Tony had gotten out of his suit, Natasha approached him. “Hey, I know a lot is happening right now, but could you help me with something really quick?”

“Sure thing, Natalie.”

Chapter Text

As soon as the jet had touched down, Yelena was nowhere in sight. But before Natasha could search for her, she was pulled into a side room by her teammates for an impromptu meeting.

“Natasha, what the fuck was that?” Sam said as soon as the door clicked shut, his voice was quiet, but she could still hear the panic in it. “Who the hell is she?”

“She’s my friend.”

“Sam filled me in, are your friends usually murderers affiliated with Hydra?” Steve stepped in.

Tony scoffed, “You’re one to talk, you basically just described your best buddy in the next room.”

“That’s different, I’ve known him since we were kids.”

“So have I, Steve!” They watched as Bruce left the room immediately following Natasha’s sudden outburst. “She wasn’t in control. How do you think she knows Barnes?”

The room remained silent; her friends were too stunned to answer.

“He trained generations of widows, including hers and including mine. She’s been in The Red Room for over a decade, so if she wants to be with me, she will be because I am not losing her again.”

“Wait, The Red Room? We destroyed it years ago, we blew Dreykov to pieces,” Clint trailed off.

Natasha sighed, “No, we blew his daughter to pieces. Dreykov was completely fine. When I disappeared for a week and wouldn’t tell anyone where I was last year, I was with her, taking it all down, for good.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam muttered, holding his face in his hands. He didn’t know much about what she was saying, he hadn't read any of her leaked files, but he saw Yelena’s reaction and he knew it was bad.

Tony stood from his seat. “Seeing as I own this building, she’s staying. If you have a problem with that Cap, you can go ahead and pack it up back to the nursing home.”

“I agree. Lady Yelena is very skilled, I think she’d be of great use.” Thor announced, quite loudly.

“His daughter lived, but she went missing a few days ago and Yelena found something of hers at that base. We're going to go after Antonia with, or without, you. So just think about it, please.” Natasha quickly left the room, Clint in toe.

Clint pulled her to some seats in the corner of the building once they were far enough away from the rest of the team, “Tell me what’s up.”

****

Yelena rushed into the tower as soon as they arrived, pushing past everyone in her way. She saw Bucky in the corner of the kitchen, reading an old book, but hurried past him into Natasha’s room.

She threw on some of Natasha’s clothes and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her to sit in the tub. She liked small spaces, they made her feel safe, and since Natasha’s room didn’t have a desk, this was the next best option. She curled up, resting her head against the cold tile and gripping at the fabric of her hoodie. Her shoulder was burning with pain and she was sure there was blood soaking into her clothes, but it was black, so she knew it wouldn’t stain too badly.

She heard the door to the bathroom open, but she didn’t look up until she felt warm hands on either side of her face. Natasha pulled her close from the outside of the bathtub to press their foreheads together, closing her eyes. Yelena looked at the woman in front of her, memorizing every detail of her face, before running her hand up her neck and to her chin. She grabbed the shirt that Natasha had changed into, suddenly pulling her into the bathtub on top of her as she let out a squeak of surprise.  

“You smell nice,” Yelena muttered, pulling her down by the neck into a kiss. She let her hands wander, eventually finding the bottom of Natasha’s shirt and breaking the kiss only to lift it over her head. Yelena traced the skin of the woman over her with her fingers as she deepened the kiss, pulling them closer together.

She finally decided to rest her hands at Natasha’s hips and pulled her forward to place her lips against her soft skin. Starting just under her jaw, she ran kisses down the woman’s front, who made little noises of contentment each time and eventually got to her chest.

“This is your home now,”

Yelena’s hands slowed as she was suddenly brought back to the reality of what was happening.  

Dreykov grabbed the girl next to her by her neck, touching her like he owned her.  

She knew it wasn’t real, but she couldn’t forget or let go, it just kept coming back. Yelena scurried out from under Natasha, out of the bathtub, and stumbled into the frame of the door that was now open.

“No, I can’t. I’m not- I’m sorry.” She stumbled over her words as she tried to get in enough air into her lungs.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Natasha started to say, putting her shirt back on.

“No.” Yelena fled from the bathroom and the bedroom as a whole. She ran down the empty hallway, she didn’t know her way around very well, or where she was going to go, but she knew she needed to find a new hiding spot. Somewhere Natasha wouldn’t find her, at least not immediately.

She found some sort of workshop one floor below that was filled with numerous desks, and situated herself under the one farthest from the door, not bothering to inspect the rest of the room.

“Hey kid,” Yelena turned her head to see Tony, midway through working on something and mentally bashed herself for not noticing his presence. “Looking for more candy to steal? Because I’m insulted that you would think my hiding spots would be that bad.”

“No,” She paused, wondering if this was something she should tell him about. “I’m hiding from Natalia.”

“Course. You know, when I first met her, she was undercover as an assistant. Told me her name was Natalie.”

Yelena laughed at that, “Her real name is Natalia, but I wouldn’t let her hear you call her that. The last person who wasn’t our family to call her that was blown up.”  

“Your family?” He asked, but she only hummed in response.

Tony stood from his position next to the oddly shaped hunk of metal, and made his way to a large cabinet next to Yelena, pulling out a bottle of vodka. He handed it to her before pouring himself a glass of whiskey and sitting on the floor against a window, waving for her to join him. She sat with him, opening the bottle and taking a long sip, as they sat in silence for a while.

“But I would take more candy if you had some.” She muttered, almost too quiet for him to hear.

He chuckled, pulling down a party-size bag of m&m’s that he seemed to have taped to the underside of his workbench, and handed it to her. As she took it, he bumped their shoulders together playfully.

“Woah, kid, you’ve gotta get that checked out.” She turned her head to see him rubbing the blood off of his arm that had bled through her hoodie. “Hell, I’ll do it if you won’t go to the med bay.”

“Do you even know how to give stitches?”

“No, but listen, you can learn anything from YouTube.” She gave him an amused look, “Fine, you aren’t talking to Nat, what if I call Sam down here? Will you let him look at it?”

She gave him a half-committal grunt that she knew he took for a yes when he started rapidly texting someone she assumed was Sam. Yelena and Tony continued to sit together, making small talk until Sam arrived. By the time he did get there, Yelena had downed about half the bottle, but she wasn’t drunk, at least not by her standards. If I can walk, I can have more.

She sat on Tony’s workbench, bottle still in hand, as Sam inspected the hoodie to see how much blood she had lost. Once he’d finished, she pulled her hoodie over her head so he would be able to get to the wound. She was wearing a sports bra underneath, but they both still gasped. It took her a moment to realize that they weren’t gasping at her figure but instead gasping at the copious amounts of scarring that covered her. She had drunk too much to care about hiding them, though.

“How’d this happen?” Sam asked, moving behind her so he could start. She didn’t wait to be prompted and poured the alcohol from the bottle in her hand over the wound. He shouted in surprise, not expecting her to do that. Sometimes she forgot that it wasn’t a normal thing to do and at this point, she didn’t even flinch when she would do it.

“I was helping Antonia free some widows,” she said as he started stitching up her wound. “I wasn’t fast enough. They put a tracker in me and locked me in the closet of their safe house. I had to get out, and the only thing in there were old wire hangers.”

She could hear a soft gasp from the man. Now thinking about it, she realized that it felt good to talk about it. She didn’t like talking about this stuff to Natasha, but when it was to random people who didn't know her, it felt oddly nice. When Sam finished, Tony pulled out an old band t-shirt he kept there as a spare and handed it to her. Even though she had a new shirt, she refused to let go of the blood-soaked hoodie and made her way back to her spot on the floor, to which the boys joined her.  

Without a long sleeve, Yelena could see the old cuts running up and down her arms and sighed. She could see Sam looking at them too.

“I work at the VA in Washington,” Sam told her, “Listening to strangers talk about their problems is my job, I’m practically a professional.”

“It’s not a big deal anymore. Just not a lot of options for coping mechanisms in a place where you can’t even leave without being drugged.” She could see both of the men shocked at the casual calmness in her voice, but she didn’t bother trying to make up an excuse.

“What are you doing down here, anyway? I didn’t think you’d like Tony much.” Sam asked, trying to ignore what she had just said.

“Shut up, birdbrain,” Tony glared before switching to a hushed tone. “Were hiding from Nat. All three of us now, you’ve officially been dragged into this.”  

“Birdbrain, haha.” Yelena’s speech slurred slightly. “Are you ever going to tell me what ‘The Bird Incited’ was?”

Sam let out a sigh that turned into a laugh, “For my thirty-sixth birthday, Barnes smuggled thirty-six different pigeons into the tower and put them into my bedroom. Keep in mind that this took him a week total, so for days, he had an increasing number of pigeons waiting in his own bedroom. Told me he wanted to make sure my whole family was here for the party.”  

“Twenty bucks says they’ll get married by the end of the year,” Yelena whispered, not so quietly to Tony, who agreed to the bet and shook on it.

“Jesus, not you guys too.”

“I know the hair is confusing, but his name is James.” She laughed increasingly hard at her own joke, despite it not being funny. “You two already act like an old married couple, what’s a ring going to do. Just be careful, he might still be in love with Talia. I mean, I’d beat the shit out of him but trust me, don’t fuck with unrequited love, I’d know how bad it is.”

“You mean Nat? What are you talking about? It's painfully obvious that she loves you,” Tony interjected.  

“Wait, what about him and Natasha?” Sam gaped.

“Yeah, they use to date, I think. My memories around then are fuzzy, not sure which are real.” She fumbled with the bottom of her shirt with her fingers. “And Nat doesn’t like me like that, she only likes me when I sleep with her.”

Tony laughed at her, “Do you know how many of us have been in her room here? Don’t answer that, the answer is none. Not even Barton.”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but with the way she talked about you to us, I know you’re wrong. I haven’t known her for long, but I haven’t ever seen her with anyone like she is with you.” Sam added, finally recovering from her comment about Natasha and Bucky.

They continued talking, and Natasha finally found them about an hour later. She leaned in the doorway looking in on them for about a minute until Yelena noticed she was there. Yelena waved the older woman over to join them, holding the almost empty bottle to her with one hand, and gripping the hoodie with the other. Natasha took the bottle, only to place it on the table and crouch down in front of Yelena.

“Hey beautiful, wanna go back upstairs?” Natasha asked softly, effortlessly sensing that the other woman was drunk.

“No, I like it down here. I want to stay here.” She beamed. Natasha glanced at Tony, who shrugged in return. “You guys should stay too, it will be like a sleepover, I think. I don’t remember what they were like.”  

They all had a quiet laugh at her as Natasha moved to sit under the desk that Yelena had since left. After figuring out the woman’s intentions, Yelena quickly followed, laying on top of her. Tony grabbed a couple of throw blankets from his lab’s bench, and threw one over the two women, and slid the half-eaten bag of m&ms so that they were within the blonde's reach. He also gave one to Sam, who shrugged with a small smile before also laying on the cold tile floor.

Tony had seemingly informed the rest of the team of their sleepover, as the rest of the team slowly joined them, carrying their own blankets. Natasha could see Steve smiling at her and the curled-up woman in her lap, who was now hugging the bloodied hoodie to her chest. As expected, Bucky slept next to Sam, and Clint took a spot on a large shelf, while the rest of them spread out over the floor. Natasha had no idea how Clint fit there but smiled to herself as she watched him climb up.

Natasha ran her hands through Yelena’s hair, playing with the ends and running her fingers along the skin on her face.

“I’m sorry I wouldn’t do stuff with you earlier,” Yelena whispered, suddenly very sad.

“Yelena, I don’t care about that, I care about you.” Natasha could hear Yelena let out a shaky breath, and pulled her close, pressing a kiss against her forehead as they fell asleep.  

Chapter Text

Hi!

So... I know that, regretfully, it's been over a year since I've updated this work, but! I have good news for everyone still interested in reading more. First, I just want to apologize for taking so long. At first, it was one new idea and then another, etc., and eventually, I decided I could work on this fic at a later date, and then a later date became now. I'm going to be totally honest, I have very little recollection of where this was supposed to be headed, so it may take me some time to re-discover a plot. However, in the meantime, I will be rewriting old chapters in my current writing style and with my currently developed skills. This update chapter will remain up until I finish rewriting, but once I begin adding new chapters, this will be deleted. Thanks for your continued reading and support!

With much love, 

Me