Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s complicated how Yelena feels about the Avengers.

Okay, that is a lie. It is not that complicated. It is actually quite simple. If she’s pressed to give an answer, she would say, without hesitation, that she strongly dislikes them. They are like off-brand vodka, the kind you use as a disinfectant but never plan to drink unless you’re desperate. They are show-offs. Posers. Too big for their britches ninety-nine percent of the time. They care more about branding and the TV screen than saving the world.

Yes, they technically save the world, but they also make sure everyone knows about it.

It is not very cool.

(And, while we’re on the subject, would it really have taken five whole years to bring back half the population from the Snap if Tony Stark hadn’t been stubbornly refusing to engage with anyone for half that time, insisting that he couldn’t take a chance to save humanity? Yelena will never know the answer. She doesn’t blame him, necessarily, but then again, since she lost everything that ever mattered to her, there’s plenty of blame to go around.)

She tolerates the Avengers because she knows how much they meant to Natasha. And even with that, they are still on shaky ground with her. After all, they changed Natasha, too. The parts that Yelena couldn’t recognize in her sister were not only from years in the Red Room, although that certainly didn’t help. It came from the found family that Natasha chose — the one she chose over Yelena. The easy confidence, the hero complex. Natasha always had a bit of that bravado, but the Avengers certainly lifted it to new heights.

Yelena scoffs, shaking her head. She would pay money to see Natasha’s face if she told her this. If she thinks hard enough, she can still make out the sly twist of her lips and the specific way she would roll her eyes with her hands on her hips, letting Yelena go off on a tirade while she watched with nothing but amusement.

She shakes her head sadly. She isn’t holding a grudge about it. Not anymore. Not since…everything. She’d much rather have the story go the same way — much rather be left behind again — if she could have a slightly different ending. She wouldn’t mind staying on the outside looking in if it meant bringing Natasha back.

But despite all this, she can admit that the Avengers welcomed Natasha when everyone else turned their backs. They treated her like one of their own: another misfit with a specific set of skills who wanted to change their fate. She can understand that. That’s all anyone wants. That’s all she really wants, if she allows herself the freedom to dwell on things like feelings. So it’s very difficult to rationalize what the Avengers represent to her with what they actually are.

Which is precisely why she doesn’t.

Instead, she tries her best to ignore any and all signs of them. And it works, for the most part, except for one tiny complication.

Enter: Kate Bishop, Avenger super-fan extraordinaire, next in line to follow in Barton’s footsteps and Yelena’s reckless, athletic, smart and tragically beautiful girlfriend.

(She never claimed to have good taste. But when Kate smiles at her, she’s sure she must be doing something right).

Kate has a decidedly different and much more…. passionate stance on the Avengers. Yelena has listened to endless stories, more than she can even keep track of, about the way Kate used to look up to them as a child, the way she wanted so badly to be them. Kate’s heart has always been in the right place: she doesn’t want glory or fame (“maybe, like, a few more Twitter followers, for her brand,” she would say with a giggle. Yelena’s heart flutters at the thought). She just wants to do something worthwhile. She wants to help. And Yelena loves Kate for that. She loves her for her enthusiasm and her optimism and the way she wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a building if it meant saving someone.

Of course, this also means that Kate has a knack for getting into impossible situations and all variations of trouble, usually at the worst times. And even though it scares Yelena half to death, she knows she wouldn’t have it any other way.

(But late at night, when she turns over in bed and reaches for Kate’s hand, she silently hopes the Avengers don’t take her, too. Please, not her.)

So, yeah, it’s really not that complicated. Yelena keeps her conflicting thoughts (mostly) to herself, and keeps tabs on the Avengers from a safe and reasonable distance.

Simple.

Until, of course, Carol Danvers comes to town.

The day starts like any other, a typical Saturday, with Yelena casually folding an omelette onto a plate as Kate watches, bleary eyed, over her coffee. It’s become so routine over the course of the year: Yelena up with the sun, going for a run and taking care of the dogs then coming home to cook breakfast before Kate even opens her eyes. She almost can’t remember a time she didn’t have this — this comfort, this stability — and she has no desire to try. Something like this was so impossible to imagine for so long that Yelena is afraid if she thinks about it too much, it might disappear completely. 

It’s perfect for how simple it all is. And even if their lives are a little chaotic and crazy (they are still very active in the vigilante game, after all), these are the moments that keep Yelena grounded. She has a home, a person, a place to belong that is actually hers. Not a ruse, not a mission, not a game.

She is finally herself, and Kate is something just as real, just as honest. It’s the most incredible feeling, having control and agency over her life, one Yelena wishes she could put into words. But words will never do it justice. How can you explain the magnitude of something so impossible? Yelena doesn’t think you can.

So mostly, she just tries her best to be thankful.

And cook really, really delicious omelettes.

“That smells so good,” Kate mumbles as Yelena brings her the plate. She watches with wide eyes as Yelena slides it in front of her. Before Yelena can turn back around, Kate reaches out and grabs her hand. It’s such a simple gesture, but it invokes so much: trust, appreciation, love. With a grin she smiles, and the breath catches in Yelena’s throat. “I don’t know what I would do without my five-star breakfast chef.”

“You would eat that horrible toaster pastry,” Yelena deadpans, shaking her head. She tries to contain the smile threatening to take over her face, but she knows her eyes give her away. Kate’s eating habits are atrocious, and she shudders to think about the way she used to survive without Yelena commandeering the kitchen.

“Pop tarts are delicious,” Kate argues, pouting.

“The Pop tarts are not a breakfast.”

“Well, compared to this, no, you’re right,” Kate says, squeezing Yelena’s hand before releasing her grip. She inhales again, then releases a long, contended sigh. “Thank you.

Yelena turns back to the stove, her cheeks burning from the praise. She is trained in almost every kind of combat there is, and yet, Kate Bishop has the ability to reduce her to a useless puddle with a simple smile.

Behind her, Kate’s phone chimes. Yelena hears the screen unlock, then silence.

“Everything okay?” Yelena asks as she heads back toward the table. She slides into the seat across from Kate and reaches for the hot sauce.

“Hang on,” Kate says with a frown. Her lips move silently as she re-reads the text, then glances up at Yelena. “I think it’s Fury.”

“Fury?” Yelena scowls. They aren’t even technically employed by S.H.I.E.L.D., so why the hell does this man insist on interrupting her Saturday? “What does he want?”

“Not sure,” Kate says, eyebrows still furrowed. “But he sent an address.”

“Okay,” Yelena says, nodding. She stabs her eggs with more gusto than necessary. “Tell him he can go there himself.”

“Yelena, you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? He is not our boss.”

Kate gives her a pointed look and Yelena grins at her seriousness. She knows they can’t blow it off, not really, but she still really hates being at Fury’s beck and call. This is one of those times when her reasons for disliking the Avengers seem perfectly valid.

She sighs. “Let me finish my food first, yes? Then we go.”

Kate’s shoulders relax and she smiles so widely her eyes crinkle. Yelena wonders if there is a limit to the things she would do for this woman.

(She doesn’t think there is, and it’d be terrifying if Kate Bishop wasn’t so gorgeous).

Yelena double checks the address, scanning it through the software on her iPad before finally agreeing to check it out. She isn’t able to get too many details, but it seems like their target is a dive bar on the outskirts of the city. Not great, but could be way worse. Public place, not a bad neighborhood. She checks the IP address from the text and it also seems legitimate, so they pack their weapons and gear and head out. Yelena ignores the churning in her stomach and hopes, for once, that things will go smoothly.

As Yelena drives, Kate tries unsuccessfully to get Fury to give more intel, but the phone remains stubbornly silent. Damn burner phones. Yelena glances over at Kate as she lets out an exasperated sigh, the short hairs covering her forehead lifting and falling with defeat. This is what it must feel like when Yelena’s on her own missions. Kate’s jaw clenches, and Yelena immediately feels guilty for ever being the cause of that particular look. She runs her finger slowly over Kate’s forearm and offers an apologetic smile. Kate simply shrugs.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” Yelena agrees, half-heartedly.

They finally pull up to a narrow looking side-street that is barely large enough for their compact vehicle to drive down, so Yelena swings around the corner. Sticking to the main roads is probably her safest bet. She pulls to the side and parks.

“This feels wrong, Kate,” Yelena warns as she unbuckles her seatbelt. She makes to get out of the car. “Maybe you should wait here. I can go ahead and scope it out.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kate says, shaking her head. She’s already out of the car before Yelena can argue. “Come on, Lena. It’s better if we don’t split up. That’s like, rule number one.”

“Is it?” Yelena asks, skeptical. She’s taking advice from Kate on mission protocol now?

“Sure, haven’t you ever watched any scary movies? As soon as they split up, they’re done for,” Kate says, an airy laugh following her as she closes the door. It shouldn’t be so endearing, but everything Kate does as a certain level of charm that squeezes Yelena’s heart.

As they walk down the street, Yelena keeps her head on a swivel, searching above them for anything out of place: fluttering curtains, cracked windows, red dots. Anything suspicious.

But everything stays quiet.

Next to her, Kate’s hands fumble with her retractable bow as she starts to pull it from her pocket.

“Hey there, Kate Bishop,” a friendly voice calls out behind them. Kate whips around, bow extended with impeccable speed, arrow knocked. Yelena copies her movement as she grabs for her weapon, scanning frantically for any other threats. “Glad you got my text.”

Yelena draws her gun from the holster on her hip, aiming it directly at the chest of the stranger. A weird familiarity sits between them as she watches the way the stranger smiles.

“Nice arrows,” the blonde woman says, still approaching. Yelena notices the confident way she walks, and the way she doesn’t hold her hands up in surrender. She’s annoyingly unbothered by the situation. Yelena’s grip tightens. “I don’t think you’ll need those here, though.”

“Holy shit!” Kate exclaims, rushing to collapse her bow and return the arrows to her pack. So careless, Yelena thinks, exasperated. But Kate is no longer focused on the mission as she turns to Yelena with wide eyes, then back to the woman. “You’re—“ she points, then returns her focus to Yelena. It’s like watching a fish out of water the way she’s scrambling for breath and Yelena almost laughs. “Do you know who this is? Oh my God!”

Yelena eyes the woman critically, her gun still poised and ready. She does not know who this is, despite Kate practically vibrating next to her. What she does know, is that the woman in front of them is a ’90’s grunge picture of arrogance, sporting a backwards cap and a checkered flannel around her waist. Her black t-shirt contains a name Yelena has never heard of (what is the Nirvana?) and her jeans are inexplicably ripped, which would be pretty cool if the rest of her wasn’t so… obnoxious.

She approaches them with her arms crossed like she’s enjoying this and Yelena realizes she hates her.

(Okay, she does not hate her. But she is not going to go out of her way to be best friends with someone who looks like this and makes Kate act like that.)

“Carol Danvers!” Kate practically screams. “Oh my GOD!”

“Nice to meet ya,” Carol says, her smile widening. Yelena notices the way her cheeks dimple, and it’s infuriating. Carol turns toward her, nodding. “And I see you brought a friend.”

Kate elbows Yelena in the ribs, which, ow, but before Yelena can object, she realizes she is still very much wielding a gun in broad daylight. She lowers her weapon slowly and places it in her holster before nodding once in greeting.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, kid,” Carol says, approaching Kate with open arms. Kate falls into them easily, and Yelena ignores the way her stomach curdles.

“You’ve heard about—“ Kate points to herself. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Carol chuckles. Yelena stares pointedly at the way Carol’s arm is still slung over Kate’s shoulders. She looks like she’s going to rustle Kate’s hair and give her a dog biscuit. It’s condescending. But Kate simply beams. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

Carol steers Kate toward the door of a dilapidated looking building with a sign that needs about three coats of paint just to be visible from the street. P-t- bar the sign says. Pete’s? Maybe. It doesn’t matter. It’s too late for Yelena to object to anything, and since Kate seems very friendly with Carol, she doesn’t think there is a legitimate threat anymore — other than piss poor alcohol and even worse company.

Yelena falls into step behind them, studying the pair in front of her. Was all this just an elaborate set up for…drinks? And, more importantly, who the fuck is Carol Danvers and why is she draped all over her girlfriend?

The bar is just as dingy inside and smells faintly of smoke, which is almost comforting in a weirdly nostalgic way. It makes Yelena think of the bars in Russia, their hazy ambiance of Marlboro Gold lingering on every surface. Yelena studies the walls of the space, adorned with license plates from a variety of states, some ironically (or purposefully?) littered with bullet holes. That’s a confusing statement to make. Are they proud of this? Yelena frowns, wondering. There’s a neon sign flashing for Bud Light specials placed right next to a scarlet red Rutgers flag. Yelena assumes this is appealing to the college crowds she sometimes sees frequenting these types of places on Saturday nights. Yelena knows Kate would be appalled to be in a Rutgers bar under ordinary circumstances, because she has heard her on more than one occasion loudly question New Jersey’s legitimacy as a state.

(Yelena doesn’t have a preference, but she’s inclined to agree with Kate. She spent some time over the state line once for a particularly thorny mission and got caught in endless traffic on the Garden State while hiding in a trunk as a means of escape. Never again.)

She goes to point it out to Kate, but stops abruptly. Kate is focused intently on something Carol is saying, not really paying attention to something as innocuous as her surroundings. It is just as well. They aren’t really “on the clock” anymore, though Yelena takes another cursory glance around, just to be safe.

“Ss-sorry about the arrow thing,” Kate is rambling now. “I don’t usually— I mean, I bring them whenever I go somewhere shady—“ Kate’s eyes widen. “Not that this is shady, because it’s not. Of course it’s not, I just wasn’t sure what to expect, and I actually thought it was Fury texting me, and you know him, he doesn’t exactly give details—“

“Kate?” Carol asks, her eyes softening. She reaches out and places a comforting hand on Kate’s shoulder. Yelena bites the inside of her lip. “Breathe, it’s okay.”

“She does this sometimes,” Yelena says as she finally catches up to them. She nods at Kate fondly. “It is part of the charm.”

Kate nods rapidly before glancing at Yelena like she just remembered something. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even—“ she gestures between them to Carol. “This is Yelena. She’s with me.”

“I can see that,” Carol teases. She turns to face her. “Yelena,” she repeats, scanning her up and down with a grin. “Pretty name.”

Yelena’s jaw clenches so tightly it hurts. It takes everything in her soul not to punch this woman in the face. I’ll show you a pretty name.

“We’re toward the back, Maria’s got a table for us,” Carol is saying to Kate now, oblivious to the tension. She gestures for them to follow.

“Kate Bishop.”

A woman that Yelena presumes is Maria speaks warmly as she stands up and offers her hand. Her smile is hundred-watt, but she’s much less showy and proud than Carol. She’s wearing an olive colored bomber jacket with several patches sewn on the sleeve, which is a pretty cool aesthetic. Yelena decides she does not hate her. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“This is crazy!” Kate says, grinning widely as she shakes Maria’s hand. She looks at Yelena with such an awestruck expression that Yelena can’t help but smile back. “Wow. It’s so cool to meet you. Both of you. Wow. Oh, and this is Yelena! My partner in crime!” Kate’s eyes soften slightly as she chuckles. “My partner in everything, really.”

Yelena’s cheeks burn pleasantly.

Maria turns to her with a calm, easy smile. “Hey Yelena, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Yelena murmurs. She might actually mean it, but only to this nice woman who seems genuine and easygoing. Yelena is good at reading people and Maria gives off the good vibes. Plus, she must be strong as hell to put up with whatever nonsense Carol is about.

“You really thought Fury was texting you?” Carol asks Kate, grinning, as they get settled in the booth. Yelena slides in next to Kate, across from Maria and Carol.

“I should have known better,” Kate says, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure he still uses a beeper.”

“You’re probably right. Classic Fury,” Carol laughs. Yelena’s eyes narrow as she studies Carol. So she’s S.H.I.E.L.D then? Yelena swears she knows her, but she can’t seem to place it—

“You know how he got that patch on his eye, right?” Carol says, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“No!” Kate exclaims. “He never talks about it!”

“He’s got a soft spot for cats. Don’t tell him I told you,” Carol explains with a wry grin. Kate shakes her head, indicating the secret would be safe. Yelena knows better than to believe her, but she remains silent. “When we were on a mission to help relocate the Skrulls, this ginger tabby cat followed us everywhere. Fury was obsessed. It wasn’t until our refugee friend Talos told us it wasn’t a cat at all but actually a Flerken that I tried to tell him to back off. They’re deadly creatures,” she explains to the table. Yelena huffs out a breath. “Fury didn’t listen though and cuddled the shit out of that thing until one day it took a swipe at him. It wasn’t pretty.”

“You’re joking!”

“Nope.”

“Dumbass,” Maria jokes, fondly. “He’s good, Fury, but that was not his finest moment.”

Yelena didn’t think she could lose more respect for Fury, but it seems her day is filled with all sorts of treats. Lucky her.

Carol explains more about what a Flerken actually is (a particularly lethal alien creature that takes the shape of Earth’s cats) then flags down a server to order a round of drinks.

“Whiskey neat,” Carol says, her confidence leaking all over the table. “Bulleit, if you have it.”

Yelena strongly dislikes whiskey, it is an amateur drink. But she dislikes Carol more, so to further antagonize, she orders the same. It’s a challenge that she knows Carol will pick up on, and that’s really all that matters.

As intended, Carol’s eyes narrow slightly in her direction. Yelena enjoys the way her jaw clenches.

Kate glances at her with a puzzled expression.

“Really?” Kate nudges Yelena’s leg. “Whiskey?”

“Yes, it is good,” Yelena says, brushing it aside. Kate shrugs and orders a Stella, which Maria gratefully copies.

“So, this is probably weird, but can I see—“ Kate gestures toward Carol, her voice lowering. “Um—“

Carol’s eyebrows knit together briefly before her face stretches into a knowing smile. “Oh,” she laughs. “Sure, yeah.”

She flexes her hand and suddenly it’s surrounded by a white-hot current, impossibly bright as it vibrates and hums around them. Kate’s eyes widen, the shadows from the light dancing on her face before Carol’s hand returns to normal.

“That is insanely cool!” Kate is saying, practically bouncing out of her seat. “Yelena did you see that?!”

Their drinks arrive before Yelena can answer, and she is thankful for the timing.

She remembers, now.

She knows who Carol is. She’s heard the stories, of course she has. Who hasn’t? Her insignia is plastered all over Times Square. Her merchandise is littered along all the shelves. Kate herself has spent hours upon hours gushing about the awesome Captain Marvel.

So this is her, Yelena scoffs, unimpressed. This poser in a t-shirt is the reason the Avengers exist in the first place. What a fucking disappointment.

She shouldn’t be surprised, and she’s not, really. Somehow, the fact that the entire initiative was born from the ego of the woman in front of her is satisfying in a way she didn’t realize she was craving. Almost like her anger has even more legitimacy than it did before. Yelena sips her whiskey slowly. It burns violently down her throat and seems to fuel the flame of her rage. She masks her expression to remain indifferent while her body simply ignites.

Carol knew Natasha. Carol might have been there when—

She shakes her head. Not right now. She can’t get too personal right away, it will only spell disaster. But she can’t help but wonder where Carol was in the battle against Thanos. She knows from Kate’s endless stories that Carol is usually off-world, that the entire galaxy is her domain.

Somehow, the thought doesn’t make Yelena feel safer. It only makes her resentment grow. When they needed her most, was she even there?

Yelena’s eyes flick over to Carol again. She’s taking a long sip of her drink, her muscled arm resting casually over the booth as she talks. Does she even care about all those lives lost? Yelena wonders. The woman in front of her doesn’t seem to care about anything.

“Not even ten minutes in and she’s already showing off?” Maria rolls her eyes, slapping Carol weakly with the back of her hand. “Might be a new record.”

Yelena scoffs louder than intended and Carol catches her eye. A simmering current that has nothing to do with the Tesseract energy radiates between them. Yelena knows Carol can feel the disdain wafting off her.

Good.

“I would show off too if I could do —“ Kate gestures vaguely. “Any of that! I mean, you’re the reason for the whole initiative!” She pauses, frowning slightly. “Obviously, you know that.” She turns to Yelena whisper-yelling, “It’s Captain Marvel!”

“So I gathered,” Yelena says icily. She’s in the process of figuring out how to fight against literal Tesseract hands, so she’s a little distracted. “The electric current was a clue.”

Carol’s smile wobbles as she shifts back to focus on Kate. “You’re a sharp shooter, though,” she says, grinning. “I hear you dazzle with those trick arrows. You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

“Teach you?” Kate asks, wide-eyed as she practically chokes on her beer. “Yeah! Yeah, okay. I mean, sure. It’s no big deal. Definitely.”

“She is modest,” Yelena hears herself say, her voice gruffer than necessary. “She is the best archer in the world.”

Kate blushes crimson and Yelena nods seriously at her, before focusing on her drink. She didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, or even to boost Kate’s ego. She just wants Carol to know — this is not some game. Kate is not someone to be won.

“Message received,” Carol says, a hint of challenge still in her tone. “Looking forward to it, Bishop.”

The conversation eventually turns more pleasant. Yelena has managed to choke down enough of her whiskey to feel almost relaxed as she listens to Maria tell them stories from their time in the Air Force. It turns out, Carol was just as irritating and arrogant back then as she is now, which means gaining super powers had almost no influence on her obnoxious personality. Yelena doesn’t comment on the way Carol used to cheat when they would drag race, or how she used to throw herself into missions she was wholly unprepared for. Instead, she watches the way Maria looks at Carol, with a glint in her eye and a smile that seems reserved only for her, and Yelena gets it. She doesn’t get why, but she gets their connection. And when Carol glances sheepishly back in Maria’s direction, with flushed cheeks and a dimpled grin, Yelena knows there’s at least one place in the galaxy where Carol isn’t in charge.

Yelena grins to herself. She is most impressive, Maria Rambeau. Yelena wonders what it would have been like if she were Captain Marvel instead.

They order another round — Carol mercifully switches to beer, so Yelena does, too — and then an awkward silence falls around them.

“So, wow, this is so great,” Kate starts, her fingers running nervously around the rim of her newly filled glass. “But um— did you really come here just to have drinks with us?”

Carol glances at Maria who shrugs at her. Yelena can sense a disagreement there, but she’s just as curious as to why they’re spending the late afternoon in a dive bar trading combat stories with no real point.

“I didn’t lie when I said I’ve heard a lot about you,” Carol starts. “But mostly, I’m here to talk about your future.”

“My future? Like with S.H.I.E.L.D. Or—“

“The Avengers,” Carol says bluntly. “And where you fit into that.”

Yelena stiffens.

“Woah,” Kate says, leaning back against the booth heavily. “I mean, yeah. Obviously I want that. I’ve always wanted that. You all saved the world!”

“We did,” Carol confirms proudly — too proudly, Yelena thinks, the anger stirring in her chest once again. “You can be part of that.”

“I think you are forgetting something, Captain,” Yelena hisses before she can contain it. All eyes snap toward her, but she doesn’t even pretend to care. “My sister saved the world. She was the reason they had any success at all. Captain Marvel wasn’t even there.”

Carol does a double take, blinking furiously. “Excuse me?“

“Natasha Romanoff.” Yelena glares at her, daring her to say something, anything—

But nothing comes. Carol’s mouth hangs open for a comically long time while Maria uncomfortably clears her throat. She can’t be sure, but she thinks she sees the hint of a smile as Maria tilts her glass.

Yelena takes a drink, her eyes drifting to focus on the TV in the distance. She ignores Carol’s pressing gaze, ignores Kate’s hand on her thigh. She can’t bring herself to calm down. Her heart pounds in her ears as she tries to count down from ten.

“How—how long are you in town?” Kate asks abruptly, clearly trying to deflect the conversation. Yelena is thankful for that. It gives her time to will herself not to cry. She won’t. Not here, not in front of them. “I obviously want to talk more.”

Carol’s eyes stay trained on Yelena long after it’s appropriate but Yelena ignores her. The TV is playing a basketball game that she has no interest in whatsoever, but she pretends to be engrossed. Carol eventually gets the hint and finally moves her focus back to Kate. “I don’t know specifics, but we’ll be here for awhile, I think. I knew this was your neck of the woods so I promised I’d check in on ya.”

“Wow that’s—“ Kate grins, her bubbly optimism reappearing. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, we have a lot to talk about,” Carol says, her smiling widening. “And, I want to hear all about Kingpin.”

“Can you believe this day?” Kate asks as soon as they pull back onto the beltway. Yelena quietly adjusts the mirrors as she merges. “I so did not see this coming. Usually missions like that go way sideways, but this was awesome!”

“We should be more focused on how she found your number, don’t you think?” Yelena replies sharply. “To your real phone.”

Kate’s face falls. Yelena catches it out of the corner of her eye and she almost feels bad about it, but this is a security threat. She doesn’t care who Carol is, she can’t just be texting Kate’s real phone like she knows her. Yelena clenches the steering wheel, hard.

“Yeah, you’re probably right—“ Kate says, scrolling her phone with a confused frown. “But I mean, she probably has technology we’ve never even heard of on Earth.”

“Mm,” Yelena hums, noncommittal. Right back to gushing. “You should tell Barton he’s been replaced,” she teases, though it comes out more grating than it probably should. 

“I’m just saying,” Kate argues. She looks out the window, shaking her head. “She’s so cool.”

“The coolest.”

“Are you okay? You’ve been super hostile since—”

“Of course I am okay,” Yelena says, cutting her off. She doesn’t want to talk about her outburst, or really anything about the afternoon. Living it once was enough for her. She avoids Kate’s eyes. She glances in the rearview mirror, pretending to be super concerned about traffic. “I cannot turn into a rocket ship, but my hands are weapons enough without electricity. I’d say I’m good.”

“Yelena—"

“I said I’m good.”

Kate rolls her eyes, but pats her arm gently anyway. “I hope so.” Then, softer, she adds, “you’re more than good.”

Yelena’s heart flutters at the softness in her voice, the way her fingers linger on her forearm. She knows she’s being stupid. Carol isn’t here to sweep Kate off her feet or anything. That’s not what this jealousy is about.

It’s about the way Carol struts (literally struts) like she runs the place, tossing out compliments to get what she wants without caring who she hurts. And why should she? Her world is still spinning.

It’d be easier if this was simply about winning Kate’s heart. Yelena’s confidence may be shaken, but she trusts that Kate loves her. And besides, she saw the way Carol looked at Maria. There’s no real threat there, even with Kate’s stupid fangirl crush on Captain Marvel.

But it’s more than all that, which is what makes Yelena’s heart sink. It’s about the one thing Yelena can never compete with—

It’s about the fucking Avengers.

If she never had to see Carol Danvers again, it would only be too soon. So, naturally, it only takes a week before Kate bounces into the kitchen announcing they’ve been invited to Carol and Maria’s place for the evening.

Yelena simply sighs as she hangs her head in defeat. Kate twirls and spins around her, deftly reaching for the coffee pot before planting a kiss on her cheek. It’s enough to send a jolt down to her toes, and Yelena smiles in spite of herself.

She will do this for Kate. There is not a limit on the suffering she will endure to make her archer happy. And clearly, this problem is not going to go away quietly.

They get dressed quicker than Yelena would like and hop in the car to waste another weekend with the dazzling Captain Marvel.

“I still don’t think you need me for this,” Yelena says for the hundredth time as she switches lanes on the highway. They’re apparently heading an hour outside of the city, to some cabin in the woods that Yelena already detests.

Kate glances at her with hurt in her eyes and Yelena swallows heavily.

“Of course I do,” Kate says. “We’re a team, you and me.” She reaches over the console and takes Yelena’s hand. She squeezes lightly and Yelena shivers. “I know you don’t like her—"

“I never said that.”

“You definitely didn’t have to,” Kate says with an airy chuckle. She shoots her a look, one Yelena has seen a million times by now, Kate’s signature ‘you can’t be serious, Yelena’ look. “It was written all over your face.”

Yelena wants to object. She controls her emotions like a professional. Okay, so maybe she made a comment about her sister at the bar, but honestly, Carol is probably used to people finding her insufferable. This should not be news.

“I promise she did not notice,” Yelena says. “Her head is too big to see around.”

“Listen. I know you don’t like her, and I respect that. But I’d like to just… hear her out. She came to New York to talk to me, so it’d be kinda weird to bail. And I don’t know—" Kate’s gaze drifts out the window, her smile widening. “I just— it’s so cool that the Avenger wants to talk to me!”

“You say this like you are not worthy of conversation,” Yelena scolds. “It’s her that should be so lucky.”

“You’re sweet, but incredibly biased,” Kate says, kissing Yelena’s hand. “And, I don’t know, she’s got like, so many cool stories. I wanna hear them! She’s been to space, Yelena! Aren’t you even a little curious?”

“No,” Yelena says flatly.

Space is pretty cool, and she would ordinarily love to hear about new planets and aliens and cool gadgets. But not from Carol Danvers, and not when she’s angling after something. When she’s angling after Kate. Yelena simply doesn’t have the energy to sit through an entire evening of listening to the obnoxious blonde talk about all her success, about how amazing the Avengers are and how great it will be to have Kate join them. Kate doesn’t need a sales pitch, she’s practically chomping at the bit to get started already. Yelena pushes on the accelerator out of frustration. Carol doesn’t care about Kate’s well-being, only that she has another fighter at her disposal while she fucks off to other planets and leaves everyone to clean up her messes.

Well, not on Yelena’s watch.

Kate stares at her. “Fine, well I am. But if you think what she has to say is ridiculous or something, then we’ll go. Okay? No questions asked.”

“We can save ourselves the trouble and turn around now,” Yelena jokes. Kate responds with a scowl and Yelena softens. “I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Kate shakes her head and Yelena relents. “Yes, I know, Captain Rocket is very captivating with the stories and the missions and the jazz hands. I will behave, okay? For you. Not for her.”

“Thank you,” Kate says, satisfied. “That’s all I’m asking.”

They pull up to the house Carol and Maria are renting after about an hour and a half (Yelena may have insisted on stopping for coffee, then stopping to take a photo of the Hudson River, and okay, she was stalling, but they still made it with room to spare, despite her valiant efforts). Kate doesn’t comment on the delay, but her bouncing leg and fidgeting hands say plenty. She practically jumps out of the car before it stops moving.

The house is modest, tucked away on a long dirt road overlooking the river. There’s a long dock that reaches out into the water and several hunter green Adirondack chairs down by the water’s edge. It’s perfectly charming and serene, which goes against everything Carol seems to stand for.

Maria must have picked it, Yelena reasons. That’s the only explanation.

“Bishop!” Carol calls from the porch, a bottle of beer already in her hand. She raises it in greeting. “Finally!”

“Hey Carol!”

‘Bishop!’ Yelena mutters under her breath, wrinkling her nose and exaggerating her pronunciation so she can mimic Carol’s annoying accent, all nasal and pinched and high. She slams the car door harder than necessary. The blonde has the same red hat on from last time, spun backwards, which makes Yelena wonder if she knows how to wear one properly. She knows it is more petty than she needs to be, but Carol seems to bring out the best in her.

As they walk up the gravel driveway, Yelena eyes the black Dodge Charger parked at the very end. She turns and gives Kate a pointed look, nudging her head in the direction of the vehicle. It reminds her of the idiots in that movie, Neighbors, with the frat boys and the parties and the beer pong. Kate insisted college wasn’t like that exactly, but Yelena is pretty sure some of it still rang true. The car seems like exactly the thing a douchebag Zac Efron character would drive. Or a big-headed Avenger.

Yelena grins to herself. Poser.

“Yelena,” Carol says through clenched teeth as they approach the porch. The notion that she’s gotten under Carol’s skin gives Yelena a thrill. She clears her throat and returns the icy greeting with a silent nod of her own.

They stare at each other in contentious silence before Carol breaks eye contact first.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?” Carol says, beaming only at Kate as she throws the door open.

“Wait, you flew through it? Like as a rocket?”

“Oh, here we go…” Maria says, rolling her eyes. She turns her attention to the football game playing on the TV. As she does, she catches Yelena’s eye and winks.

Yelena grins. At least there’s one other sane person here.

They’re only on the first round of beverages and already knee-deep in Carol’s resume, discussing all her most recent space escapades. Space-capades? Yelena snorts into her drink. Kate would be pleased with that turn of phrase, that is, once she has her personality back. But perhaps Yelena is being unfair. She is glad for Kate, who seems perfectly enthralled by every story Carol tells. She’s only sorry for the rest of them who have to suffer through it. Maria nods along in practiced intervals since she’s probably heard the stories hundreds of times already, but Yelena occupies herself by thinking of all the ways she can render Carol unconscious. She tunes in for the occasional description of alien planets and terrifying invasions but immediately loses interest when Carol talks about the “incredible feeling” of soaring through space.

“You destroyed it? Just like that?” Kate asks, practically giddy and gesturing so hard she almost knocks her drink over. Yelena catches the bottle and keeps it upright, earning a thankful smile from the brunette.

She really is the cutest, Yelena thinks. She wishes she could hug her (and, simultaneously, walk her out the door and away from this nonsense).

“Just like that,” Carol says, shrugging. “An entire space station — gone.”

“That’s awesome!”

“It was kind of awesome,” Carol agrees, a cheeky smile on her stupid face.

Yelena can’t even control the eye roll, it simply happens. She’s just lucky her eyes don’t get stuck permanently in the back of her head. That would not be a good look. But, can anyone blame her? Captain Arrogant and her space suit frolicking through space, come on. She would give her left arm to have witnessed Carol and Natasha interacting - just one time. God, that must have been a sight.

She wonders if Natasha hated her as vehemently as Yelena does. She feels like there’s a strong possibility.

Carol must catch her slip because she immediately shifts in her seat, focusing all her attention on Yelena.

“This is probably super boring for you, I’m sorry,” Carol says with fake pity, studying her with that same half-confident half-amused (half-assed) expression. “What do you do, Yelena?”

“I’m a former Black Widow operative,” Yelena replies matter-of-factly. It’s the first time she doesn’t try to come up with a cover story for a stranger and it feels fantastic. “I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

Carol twists her lips and Yelena knows she’s caught her off guard. So, of course, now she has to pounce.

(She has Natasha to thank for her competitive fire.)

“I was taken to the Red Room — that is what they called the headquarters of the operation, if you will —  and turned into an assassin at the age of 6. In a short time, I became the greatest child assassin ever known. The honor did not come with a medal, unfortunately.” Yelena teases this fact with a smile, but her audience seems confused as to how to respond.

“You mean, in Russia,” Carol tries.

Yelena smiles widely. “No, I don’t.”

Carol’s smirk vanishes.

“So that is what I did for most of my life. I didn’t know any other way. I only defected a few years ago, which was a long time coming. But it was important to put a stop to the whole operation. It was, as you can probably imagine, not very above board.”

She is careful to keep her voice steady as she takes a long sip of her beer. Everyone is watching her with fascination.

“Before the Snap, Natasha and I reunited and we returned to the Red Room to burn it to the ground.” Yelena carefully focuses on Carol’s face. She watches the way the muscles in her jaw flutter. “Which is not an easy feat, you see. Dreykov was no amateur. He moved locations often, and no one ever knew the coordinates. Widows were drugged upon entry and exit. But, we had our methods. Natasha was always clever.” Yelena says her name again deliberately to see how Carol will react. Predictably, she stiffens, her entire posture more rigid and uncomfortable. Yelena turns her attention to Maria. “The most recent headquarters turned out to be a fortress in the sky, somewhere over Russia. Not quite in space, but far enough.”

Maria nods along, her mouth hanging open in shock.

“Anyway, we infiltrated Dreykov’s hideout with some help from Melina and Alexei — my adoptive parents — and managed to free the rest of the Widows. Killing Dreykov was a bonus. A very satisfying bonus.”

It’s the first time she’s really talked about the entire Red Room takedown to someone who isn’t Kate, but the competition with Carol seems to turn her into a different person. Kate is looking at her with a wary expression, slightly frowning.

“Your— adoptive parents?” Kate stumbles. Yelena turns to her. Hadn’t she covered that part with Kate? She doesn’t quite remember the details. Suddenly, she feels very foolish.

“Yes, but that is another story,” she says, trying to brush it aside. “And not a very interesting one.”

Kate’s gaze lingers on her longer than necessary and Yelena burns under the attention. She avoids getting caught up in her girlfriend’s questioning eyes, focusing instead on the TV screen over Maria’s shoulder. She knows she will only feel more humiliated if she has to see Kate’s disappointment.

She has a lot of explaining to do later.

(But, in the meantime, she can be furious with Carol for causing her to run her mouth in order to make a point.)

Carol, unaware of any of this, does the worst thing she can do and tries to relate.

“I beat the shit out of my former mentor one time,” Carol explains seriously. There’s something in her expression that Yelena can’t quite place, but she hardly thinks it’s genuine. “He wasn’t a good guy either, it turned out.”

Yelena doubts anyone can come close to the absolute despicable nature of Dreykov, but she doesn’t push it.

“Kingpin punched me once,” Kate mumbles. “Not a fan.”

A somber silence settles over the group. Yelena almost regrets killing the mood, except for the fact that it seems to be the only thing to get Carol to shut up. Silently, she congratulates herself.

Maria takes the opportunity to ask if anyone wants another beer. Yelena is about to say yes when Carol interjects.

“I think we need something stronger, don’t you, Yelena?”

Yelena studies the way her eyes glimmer with a challenge.

“Always.”

The thing about good vodka is the deceptive way it warms you from the inside, without the horrible grating razor-blade aftertaste to remind you that you’re drinking literal poison.

Yelena has always appreciated good vodka and the fact that Americans do not know how to handle it.

What she does not appreciate, however, is present company (Carol) and the way she seems to blow past all normal limitations to somehow match her shot for shot.

Stupid fucking Avengers.

Maria rolls her eyes as Carol tosses back another. Yelena is quick to follow.

“She always does this,” Maria scoffs as she taps Carol forearm with a warning swat. “Doesn’t know her limits.”

Carol tries to glare at her but ends up smiling stupidly, her cheeks already blushing red.

Kate looks over at Yelena with a cautious smile, wincing as she swallows her own shot. Yelena is concerned, but notices she’s at least four shots behind the rest of them.

“F-15A Eagle,” Carol says, smirking, in response to a question Yelena barely remembers hearing. Kate asked about the type of jets she flies, possibly? No idea. “Took that baby for loops.”

“Against protocol,” Maria adds, shaking her head. “As usual.”

“Woah,” Kate says, leaning forward. “Loops?”

“I’ll take ya sometime, kid,” Carol promises. Then, with a smug smile she turns to Yelena. “You don’t fly, do ya Yelena?”

Yelena downs another shot, her face burning with rage. She swallows slowly to control herself before nodding. “Not much. I did fly a helicopter to orchestrate a prison break once. Maximum security facility in Russia,” she says seriously. “I shot a bazooka from the cockpit into the mountains as a distraction. Which worked, but only because it caused an avalanche.”

“Holy shit,” Maria says, her mouth hanging open. She looks at Carol. “Damn, babe.”

Carol scowls. “Helicopters barely count,” she says, visibly annoyed.

“What about motorcycles?” Yelena presses. “Do they count?”

“I stole one once off a guy in a parking lot in the Mojave desert,” Carol says triumphantly. “Ditched it outside a dive bar somewhere along the 14.”

“Mm,” Yelena nods appreciatively. “Very badass,” she says sarcastically, her eyes flickering over to Kate who is watching her with a careful look. “I used mine to outmaneuver a tank in Budapest.”

“I’m sorry, a what now?” Maria asks.

Yelena grins. “A tank,” she repeats. “That one is a good story.”

“I’m starting to think you’re full of them,” Maria replies, still shaking her head.

“She is,” Kate says proudly as she rests her hand on Yelena’s arm. Her smile brightens her pretty blue eyes and Yelena almost chokes on her drink. Kate Bishop, now is not the time to disarm.

“Yeah you’re just full of stories,” Carol says, her tone clearly dripping with doubt.

“You do not believe me, then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Yelena chuckles as she pours another shot. She raises her glass in Carol’s direction. “To stories,” she says, toasting. She throws back the shot, her mouth completely numb as she swallows.

Carol raises her shot glass and kicks it back.

“How’d you survive before the powers?” Yelena asks as she wipes her mouth lazily.

“What do you mean?”

“You talk a lot. Is that what they taught you in the Air Force?”

Carol clenches her fists. “You don’t think I know how to fight?”

“It sounds like you can do the tricks, but the fighting? I do not know,” Yelena shrugs as if she couldn’t care less. “Can you?”

Yelena knows she’s struck a nerve with the way Carol glares at her, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring before she pushes her chair back abruptly. It clatters to the floor, causing Maria and Kate to jolt.

“You wanna go?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer as she heads for the door, and Yelena smiles.

They spill out into the yard, a brilliant display of drunken bravado and stored up rage. Yelena keeps her eyes trained between Carol’s shoulder blades as she follows her into the backyard toward the water.

“Carol! Why do you always gotta turn everything into a fight—" Maria is calling out behind them, but Carol chooses not to acknowledge her.

“Yelena, stop!” Kate cries out, reaching for Yelena’s hand.

“It is fine,” Yelena says, shrugging her off. Her vision is tunneled in on Carol to the point she barely registers Kate’s desperation. She discards her jacket, leaving it in Kate’s hands. “Where I’m from, we call this a conversation.”

Carol stops after a few more yards and turns to face Yelena. She tosses aside her flannel and Yelena cracks her neck in response.

“Yelena—" Kate whispers. “She can kill you!”

“You should be more worried about what I can do to her,” Yelena snarls. She knows Kate has a point, but it hurts her pride to hear the doubt in her voice. Out of the corner of her eye she watches Kate retreat with a furious pout, but she doesn’t have time to focus on it too long because Carol is already walking toward her.

Yelena crouches into a ready position and watches Carol walk arrogantly forward. She wasn’t trying to goad Carol into a fist fight, but it was only too easy to get here. She wonders idly if the Avenger is going to use her powers to blast her off the planet, but it’s too late to back down now.

Maybe Kate has a point, but Yelena simply grits her teeth and braces for it.

Carol, however, surprises her. She moves forward with deliberate steps, her fists slightly raised. She doesn’t light up like the Fourth of July which Yelena supposes means she’s choosing to fight fair…for the moment.

They walk around cautiously, feeling each other out. Carol bounces slightly on the balls of her feet and Yelena simply watches, looking for a misstep or a weakness. The chords in her opponent’s neck are tense, and her eyes are glossy with alcohol. Yelena knows this will work in her favor. She already knows Carol is impulsive and and impatient — add alcohol to the mix, and she will be compromised. It will only take a few seconds for Carol to launch forward and make the first move, so Yelena simply waits.

Predictably, Carol is up in her space in no time. But Yelena is ready, her fists fast and body agile as she uses Carol’s momentum against her and flips her easily over her body and onto her back. She takes particular pleasure in the clunking sound of Carol hitting the ground, enjoying the way the air seems to leave her lungs in a satisfying gasp.

She only has a few seconds to congratulate herself, however, before Carol springs up and launches again. Yelena dodges one punch, but Carol is faster than she seems and her second shot lands squarely against Yelena’s cheek, turning her head from one side to the other.

“Not all tricks,” Carol grunts, as she retreats her fist.

Yelena doesn’t react, instead responding with a swift kick to her ribs, which sends Carol sprawling backwards. The move gives Yelena just enough time to reset. Carol recovers quickly and tries to double down her efforts with a kick that barely grazes Yelena’s shins, but Yelena is already a step ahead, grabbing Carol’s leg and flipping her off her feet again. Carol manages to lean into the flip and land in a crouch, but Yelena is already diving forward and grabbing for her arm. She uses the leverage of Carol’s right arm against her and twists hard, wrenching the shoulder upward and grinning at Carol’s cries of protest. But Carol’s footwork is quick and she manages to flex and spin around so quickly that her elbow connects solidly with Yelena’s nose. It knocks them both off balance enough for Carol to squirm out of her grip while Yelena’s hands reactively go to her own face.

They come away soaking wet with blood.

She grunts, more annoyed than anything, as she rounds on Carol again. Her limbs are practically vibrating as she flexes, ready to strike. She drops down into a sweeping kick that Carol dodges, but Yelena lifts her foot at the last second and still manages to tangle Carol up enough to knock her down. Yelena pounces and kicks her several times in the ribs.

“This is the formal training?” Yelena jeers at Carol, wiping the blood from her face as she lands another kick. Carol wheezes.

Yelena lands a final kick but Carol is deceptively fast. She grabs Yelena’s foot, pulling her forward and tripping her up so she lands on the ground next to her. Before she can turn to shield herself, Carol lands a kick to her stomach, which Yelena should have deflected. She hisses in displeasure. The kick is a forceful one, rattling her body so hard she feels the throb of her broken nose even more intensely. Her eyes water as the blow knocks the wind out of her.

She coughs as she stumbles to standing.

Yelena watches Carol smirk, and it kickstarts the anger from somewhere deep in her core. They’re back to facing each other again, Carol with a bruise near her eye, her clothing ripped and muddied. Yelena knows she should wait for Carol to make another misstep, but she’s so fucking angry that she can’t see straight. This isn’t a mission, this is for everything else. This is for the ache in her chest, and the hole in her heart. This is her desperate attempt to keep the tiny fragments of her life fused together as best as she can so that for once she can hold to something good.

She doesn’t expect anyone to understand, but this is the only way she can show Carol that this isn’t going to be easy. The only way she can show that, unlike everyone else on the planet, Yelena doesn’t bow down to the glorious Captain Marvel.

She charges forward with everything she has, hitting Carol with such force that it knocks them both across the lawn. They land hard, rolling and punching and kicking and yelling, but when their momentum finally stops, Yelena somehow ends up on the bottom, her back pressed against the grass. Carol punches her once, twice, harder and harder until all Yelena can hear are her exasperated grunts as she beats her senseless. Yelena is pinned too tightly to move, but she tries to reach for her knife in the pocket of her pants. Carol must sense it, because just as her fingers find the handle of the blade, Captain Marvel’s hands ignite.

It’s bright and obnoxious, but strong enough that Yelena can feel the hairs on her arms stand straight up in response to the power. She knows she can’t beat this, not in her current state, not like this. She glances over where Kate is watching, horrified. Her heart pounds heavily in her chest.

She can’t think about Kate right now, even though she will never forgive Carol for doing this in front of her. She turns back to the fight, focusing intently. Her blade shimmers as she points it at Carol’s neck while the lethal hand of Captain Marvel stays raised like an anvil over Yelena’s face. 

“Do it,” Yelena snarls, staring straight into Carol’s eyes. She clenches her jaw but refuses to look away. If Carol is going to kill her, she’s going to have to do it with dignity. “Do it!”

Carol clenches her jaw, her glowing hand still hovering dangerously close to Yelena’s face. It feels like an hour, but Yelena knows it’s only a few seconds before she finally turns away.

“No,” Carol says, pushing Yelena back down and returning her hands to normal. “I’m not going to kill you."

Yelena’s grip is still tight around her knife and for a split second, she thinks about it. Her jaw clenches tightly as her hand quivers. Carol is turned slightly, her eyes trained on something else, and the target is right there. Yelena has done much more with less. She could easily rip and slice through Carol’s ribs like paper, gutting her and ending it all before she even has a chance to exhale.

But then what?

Killing Carol doesn’t solve her problems. It doesn’t bring Natasha back. It doesn’t keep Kate safe.

What does it prove? That she’s a ruthless trained killer? She has already shown that to be true. If anything, this would only makes her worse. If she does this, how will she ever look Kate in the eye again?

As Carol turns fully away, Yelena drops her knife.

“—the fuck you gotta prove? Hm?”

As she sits up, dizzy and disoriented, Yelena hears Maria whisper-yelling in Carol’s ear as they head back toward the house. She watches Carol hang her head as Maria continues to chirp.

“Hey—" Kate’s voice is dangerously close to Yelena as she crouches down next to her. Her lips quiver as she reaches for Yelena’s shoulder, hovering slightly before thinking better of it.

“Leave it, Kate,” Yelena says, rolling away from her. Her cheeks blaze in embarrassment. She hates that Kate is seeing her like this — unhinged, emotional, hurt — especially after she promised she would behave. But she’s in no state to make it better, no position to apologize. Everything in her body aches.

She pulls herself to standing, grimacing at the pain radiating through her body. She stumbles slightly as she walks down toward the water’s edge alone.

The footsteps are just as loud and obnoxious as the woman they come from. It’s a wonder Carol can get anything done, the way she stomps around like a colossus. Yelena stares at the rippling water of the river as the anger stirs violently in her chest, cresting like the waves. She only partially hoped Kate would be the one to follow her, but she’s actually relieved it’s not. There is no explaining the war raging in her mind, and she’s already got enough to apologize for without making it worse.

Carol’s silhouette casts a long shadow next to her.

“You do not take the hints,” Yelena criticizes as Carol stands next to her. Her side profile is illuminated by the moon, her jawline stubbornly strong and determined. The idiotic backward hat is removed, leaving short blonde hair that is tousled from the fight. Yelena stares up at her, frowning. “I do not like you.”

She watches Carol ignore her comments as she stands stoically, her gaze trained over the river. Her face is cut up and she looks tired, which gives Yelena a little satisfaction.

“You’re just like her, you know,” Carol says quietly after a few minutes. Yelena immediately tenses. “Stronger than you look.”

Yelena’s eyes snap up violently. She clenches her fists, ready to fight again. She swears she’ll send Captain Marvel to space this time, just try—

“She didn’t like me either,” Carol finishes with a knowing grin. “At first.”

The unexpected honesty hits Yelena sharply in the chest.

“Yes, well, you’re arrogant,” Yelena finally replies, relaxing her fists and wiping the blood from her nose instead. She spits, the iron taste lingering in her mouth. “It should not be news.”

Carol’s shoulders slump and she exhales an airy chuckle. “Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

“You didn’t deserve her,” Yelena says sharply, turning to face Carol directly. “None of you did.”

Barton, Danvers, Stark, Rogers — none of them should have gotten all that time with Natasha. She doesn’t care what enemies they defeated in the past. None if it makes up for how she feels.

Alone. Forgotten.

Carol tries to get closer. “Yelena—“

“No!” Yelena says, pushing her away. She hates Carol for being here, for making her feel like this. “Get away from me!”

“I know we didn’t,” Carol tries, stepping toward her. “We didn’t deserve her at all, okay? You’re right.”

Yelena pushes her once more, but Carol doesn’t budge. Yelena pushes again, but Carol is strongly rooted to the spot like an oak tree, which makes their earlier fight even more impressive. Yelena knows she doesn’t have enough strength for round 2. Everything in her body is exhausted, her eyes burn with tears that are threatening to fall. She shoves Carol one last time, as hard as she can, but nothing happens. The stubborn Avenger doesn’t move.

“I should have been there,” she says, her voice cracking as Carol catches her hands. Yelena wrenches them free and smacks her palms against Carol’s chest angrily. “I should have been there! It should have been me!”

“Hey,” Carol says softly. She takes Yelena’s hands again. “Hey, it’s okay—“

“It’s not okay!” Yelena exclaims. “You—" she pulls her hands away again, jabbing a finger at Carol’s chest. “You and the rest of the Avengers—you were supposed to save her!”

Carol stops, but Yelena charges on.

“Don’t tell me it was her choice, I do not want to hear it! It never should have happened this way!”

She remembers Barton’s hang-dog face, the way his lips quivered when he explained Natasha’s choice. She chose to sacrifice herself to bring everyone home safely. It was her decision and hers alone that saved the world.

Yelena believes him to an extent, she knows how stubborn her sister can be.

But it doesn’t mean it had to end this way.

The Avengers are supposed to be about hope. They always find another way. She will never believe it had to come to this.

“No,” Carol says, finally dropping the arrogant act. She looks smaller, somehow, as she shakes her head in agreement. “It shouldn’t have happened this way.”

Their eyes meet and Carol is looking at her with a tender, sad smile. Yelena wants to hate it, but everything inside her feels twisted and strained beyond recognition. She looks away, desperate to conceal the tears that start to fall.

“I believe you, by the way,” Carol says, rubbing her ribs where Yelena hit her repeatedly. “You definitely don’t tell stories.”

Yelena knows what’s happening, and as much as she wants to take Carol’s olive branch and shove it somewhere specific, she feels like her heart has been ripped out of her chest. She inhales sharply, ignoring Carol’s sympathetic smile as she walks over to the Adirondack chair facing the river. She sits down tiredly. Carol follows, sitting next to her.

“I know you think you know all about the Avengers,” Carol starts tentatively. “And you’re probably right. We are the things you think, I’m not going to pretend we aren’t. We are loud, obnoxious, arrogant…” Carol drifts, looking at Yelena expectantly.

“Rich, spoiled, entitled, show-offs,” Yelena finishes easily. Glancing at Carol’s ripped jeans and band t-shirt she adds, “posers.”

“That’s a new one,” Carol acknowledges. She shrugs, unbothered, looking back out over the water. Yelena finds it odd that she doesn’t try to fight against the name calling. “The intention was never to be heroes. Fury just felt like there had to be others out there, others with gifts that could help where S.H.I.E.L.D. agents simply couldn’t. And I— I never planned for this. I never thought this would be my life. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but after the plane crash, the explosion— " Carol inhales a shaky breath. “My powers are a gift and a curse. I lost everything I ever knew. And in return, I could travel the cosmos. But I wasn’t only given Earth to save. The things I can do— I have the weight of worlds on my shoulders.”

Yelena pauses, contemplating Carol’s words.

“I understand pressure, I understand having to save everyone — even on those other galaxies—" Yelena drifts off, staring at the sand. She clenches her fists and looks over at Carol. “But you are from Earth. You do not care about the people here? Your own home?”

“You sound like an Avenger.”

Yelena frowns so hard her head throbs. “Do not insult me.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, Yelena. But that’s how they saw it, too. It made them resent me, just like you do,” Carol says, her voice wavering slightly. “Even with all this, I was never enough. I’m still not enough.”

“You?” Yelena scoffs. “With the power of rockets?”

“Me,” Carol says, defiantly. She shakes her head sadly. “I came as soon as they called. I pulled Stark out of the sky where his ship floated aimlessly, where he was trapped and dying, and I brought him home. Whether that matters or not, I don’t know. I was still too late. Thanos had already been to Earth. But you’re right. I should have been here to begin with. I should have ended him before he ended us. And afterwards, when we found him, I was so close—" Carol slams the ground with her foot. “I had his fucking head in my hands—" her hands glow wildly for a second and Yelena watches, stunned.

The anger is palpable, and Yelena recognizes the burn of desperate, wild guilt. She didn’t know Carol could possess a feeling deeper than a casual smirk, but she realizes she may have been off-base about her nemesis.

“It isn’t all your fault,” Yelena says, suddenly trying to offer comfort. She hadn’t accounted for this change of heart, but she doesn't think placing the blame squarely on Carol’s shoulders is exactly fair.

Carol simply huffs a breath, chuckling sadly as she raises her eyes to the sky.

“Isn’t it, though?”

The photograph is grainy and faded, but the smiles beaming back at her are larger than life, lighting up the entire foreground. The image contains a younger Carol, her blonde hair long and wavy under her hat, her arm tossed strongly around Maria’s neck. Their faces are pressed together, eyes scrunched with blissful happiness.

Kate holds the frame delicately in her hands.

“And she was just— gone?”

“Five whole years,” Maria says wistfully as she appears next to her. She taps the photo. “I love that one. I bring it with me everywhere we go. We had just graduated from the Academy.”

Kate places it gently back on the shelf and turns to Maria.

“Five whole years and not a whisper. They closed up every file on the mission, pretended the whole thing never happened. She was presumed dead by everyone around me.”

“That must have been so hard. I mean, you didn’t even know for sure she was dead. And you loved her—" Kate’s voice wavers. She doesn't mean to presume, but it's so obvious the way they act, the way they smile at each other.

Maria presses her lips together as she nods. “I never wanted to believe it, but after a few years, what do you do? You have no choice but to carry on.”

“Of course,” Kate agrees reluctantly. She thinks of her father, the way he vanished one day during the battle of New York. It’s not quite the same, but the grief is tangible no matter the circumstances. Then she thinks of Yelena, and her heart seizes.

“Then one summer night, five years later, she shows up in Louisiana just strolling through my backyard asking to speak to me like I’m some stranger," Maria continues. "She’s got the same face, the same stubborn attitude — and absolutely no memory of who she is.”

“I can’t imagine,” Kate says, shaking her head. Maria’s smile is distant, like she’s experiencing the worst years of her life all over again. “What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do,” Maria says quietly. “I loved her back to me.”

They sit on the couch and talk more about Carol’s return, about how she eventually took up the mantel of Captain Marvel. Maria talks about it with fierce pride, but Kate knows it must be agony to watch someone she loves throw herself at every danger— even those beyond this world.

It’s something she can relate to a little too well.

“Yelena would never consider herself a hero,” Kate finally says quietly as she fiddles with the fabric of the couch. “But she is.” She glances sheepishly up at Maria. “Sorry she’s making a scene. She’s not usually…” Kate drifts slowly. Thinking better of it, she amends, “well, she’s always a little hostile—"

“She cares about you,” Maria muses calmly. “Trust me, I get it.”

Kate’s cheeks flush. She knows Maria is right, but she hates the way this entire evening has gone. If only Yelena could talk to her instead of having a throw down with Carol Danvers in the backyard, then this whole thing could have been avoided. Frustrated, she scoffs. “If she did, she wouldn’t have done what she did.”

“Carol can handle it,” Maria replies simply. “It’s her preferred method of coping, though Lord knows I try to get her to use her words. But, we all know she started it. And, don’t tell her, but—" Maria glances around with a teasing grin, “she needed someone to beat some sense into her.” Kate tries to smile. “It’s not easy, this life. But your Yelena isn’t fighting Carol for herself, you know.”

Kate’s eyes snap up. “What do you—"

“You’re a smart girl, Kate. You really think someone like Yelena, who saw her sister go down this path, is going to take this lying down? No way. She’s not challenging Captain Marvel because she has something of her own to prove, let’s just put it that way. She’s doing it for you.”

It strikes Kate then, like a bolt of lightning. She thinks about Yelena’s hostility, the way she’s been on edge ever since meeting Carol. It has less to do with jealousy or simply disliking Carol’s cocky attitude.

It has to do with the Avengers.

For someone who considers herself particularly observant, Kate can’t believe she didn’t see this coming. Of course Yelena would have an issue with the Avengers. She barely tolerates Clint, so why would she be excited for Kate to follow in his footsteps — in Natasha’s? Why would she let Kate throw herself headfirst into this life, with the people who let her down the most?

She thinks of the bitter anguish on Yelena’s face while she fought with Carol, and her heart breaks a little more. 

“The funny thing is, the two of them are more alike than they probably realize,” Maria is saying now. She glances at Kate with a comforting smile. She places a hand on her thigh. “Those stubborn heroes of ours. They’ll work it out. I promise.”

“You were lost in the Snap,” Carol states solemnly as she looks back over at Yelena.

“How did you know that—“

“Natasha never stopped, not once. Not when everyone else wanted to. Not when everyone else threatened her. She was never going to stop trying to fix it. All she wanted—" Carol swallows heavily. “All she wanted was to bring you home.”

Yelena finally stops trying to fight the tears as they spill relentlessly down her face. No one has been able to tell her anything about the lost years, not really. Not like this. It’s the first time she’s hearing about Natasha’s desperate attempt to save her. She stares at the sky, studying the pattern of stars. She thinks of the glowing fireflies back in Ohio, when she was 5 years old and Natasha used to catch them with her.

“I lost 5 years—" Yelena confesses. She snaps her fingers. “Gone. I walk into a bathroom, I wash my hands, and then everything is different. I don’t know where I am or what happened. And Natasha—" Yelena’s voice catches in her throat. “Natasha is gone.” She grinds her teeth. “And even though you fixed the mistakes, it did not fix everything. Not for me.” Yelena drags the heel of her shoe through the dirt. “You all parade around congratulating yourselves, but you can see why I hold a grudge.”

Carol nods. “I get it.”

There’s a steady silence that settles around them as they stare at the sky. Yelena wonders what Carol thinks about when she looks up. Is space as overwhelming to her as it is to Yelena? She thinks it must be, but for different reasons. The galaxy is the great unknown to most, enough to make them feel small and insignificant.

To Carol, it represents an infinite challenge.

“I think we have more in common than you think, Yelena,” Carol says softly, bringing Yelena back to Earth. “I lost 5 years of my life, too.”

Yelena glances over at her. In this moment, she doesn’t look like a fighter of worlds. She looks like a woman who has seen too much.

“Not because of Thanos,” Carol continues. She hesitates, glancing at Yelena out of the corner of her eye. “Brainwashing, actually.”

Yelena is surprised. “You?”

“Me,” Carol confirms. “With the power of rockets,” she says in a heavy imitation of Yelena's accent, smiling proudly as she does.

“Your accent needs work,” Yelena says, rolling her eyes. She does not sound like a Russian droid.

Carol may be more human than she was earlier in the evening, but she is still an idiot. Yelena shifts. She finds she doesn’t hate her the way she thought she did. She studies Carol’s face as she continues to talk, telling her about the plane crash in more detail — the death of her real mentor, and the kidnapping she suffered at the hands of the other. Her eyes hold a sadness that Yelena hadn’t recognized before. It’s something she relates to only too much.

“I only had fragments of memories,” Carol says, twisting her lips in disgust. “I knew something was missing, but I had no clue what it was. And all around me, everyone just kept telling me I needed to control my emotions, my powers. They had me convinced I was broken. I was lost for years.”

“It is not a good feeling,” Yelena agrees. She is surprised by Carol’s vulnerability, and the way their stories seem to intersect. She didn’t believe they had anything in common, but she’s starting to come around to the idea. “I am sorry that happened to you.”

“Natasha told me a little about the Red Room,” Carol says. She’s still treading lightly, which Yelena appreciates. “I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through. But I—”

Yelena sniffs, shrugging it off. “I don’t want to talk about that,” she deflects. She chances a glance at Carol. “I only want to know about Natasha. You spent a lot of time with her?”

“We only met in passing until Thanos. But then after the snap, we came to an understanding,” Carol says, adjusting to Yelena’s shift in the conversation. “She was leading the effort from the ground. And, as I mentioned, she was not a fan.” Carol winks and Yelena rolls her eyes. That’s exactly why, she thinks, but she holds her tongue. “And then eventually…I like to think we became friends.”

She talks about Natasha for awhile. She tells Yelena about her strength, her poise, her bite. She was the only one who could make Steve Rogers blush and get Tony Stark to see reason. She was kind to Bruce and gentle with Bucky. She was anything they needed her to be and Yelena takes particular pride in that.

“She was the glue,” Carol says, smiling fondly. With a chuckle she adds, “she also had a lot of nicknames for me. None of them very flattering.”

Yelena smiles at that. It warms her heart to know Natasha probably had the same conflicted feelings about the woman in front of her. She wishes her big sister could see them now, bonding.

“Your first impression needs work,” Yelena tells her. “Too much—” Yelena gestures with fluttering hands to signify glowing power.

Carol chuckles. “Point taken.”

Yelena looks over the water again, her shoulders slumping. “I didn’t get to say goodbye,” she finally says, a tear trailing down her cheek. “All I had were voicemails, frantic messages from her trying to find me. I— that’s all I have left of her.”

Carol reaches out a hand. Yelena surprises herself by taking it.

“I’m so sorry I failed you,” Carol says, squeezing it once. “That I failed her.”

Yelena allows Carol to hold her hand for a brief moment before she pulls back. She knows she can’t hate Carol forever, but it doesn’t make things right. There’s still the underlying reason for everything.

There’s still Kate.

“But now you’re here, looking for more. You can’t just come here and take everything—"

“Take everything?” Carol’s brows knit together for a brief moment. Yelena looks back toward the house and Carol’s eyes widen. “Oh, Yelena—“

“Don’t ‘oh Yelena’ me, I do not want your pity.”

Carol holds up her hands. “I promise, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m not here to take anything.”

“Next to you, I will never measure up,” Yelena whispers. “Kate will see that so much clearer now, with you and the Avengers around to entice her.”

Carol doesn’t answer. Yelena pushes herself to standing.

“She wants to be an Avenger so badly,” Yelena says, gesturing. “And she is not naïve, she knows what it takes. At least, to some extent. But there is no telling someone what this life really means. The sacrifices, the pain. And Kate is too good—" Yelena chokes back a sob. “I’ve already lost everything. I do not think I can lose her, too.”

“I know what you’re saying,” Carol says seriously. “Believe me, I do. Maria— we know the strain this type of arrangement puts on a family. It— it feels like you’re always letting someone down.”

Yelena pauses her pacing. She stares at Carol before nodding. “Yeah.”

“I won’t force her to do anything,” Carol assures her. “But I won’t turn her away if she wants it.”

There is no situation where Yelena wins, she realizes. It’s not like she can stand in the way of Kate’s future, and she knows she can’t ask Carol to reject her. But hearing the stories about Natasha — the way they all looked up to her, the way they all needed her — helps temper the flames of her resentment somewhat. It also helps to learn that Carol is less of a frat boy with super powers and more of a person, but they still have a long way to go. Nothing will ever absolve the Avengers completely, but they may not be as terrible as she originally thought.

“You’ll never deserve Kate either,” Yelena says, pointing at her directly. It’s important that Carol knows. “Don’t ever for a second think you do.”

“I know,” Carol acknowledges seriously. “You’re right.”

The walk back to the house is almost comfortable. With all their cards laid out, Yelena finally feels relaxed as she nudges against Carol’s shoulder.

“You fight good,” Yelena says gruffly. “Rough around the edges, but good form.”

Carol rolls her eyes. “Gee, thanks,” she replies. “But you weren’t kidding about that assassin thing. You have a lot of weapons… it’s impressive.”

Yelena smiles, satisfied. Her collection of knives has always been a point of pride for her.

“Pockets,” she tells her seriously. “They are never empty.”

“Noted,” Carol says, grinning. She chances another glance at Yelena before pausing. “You could have killed me for real,” she says abruptly. She turns, looking Yelena straight in the eye. “You had the perfect shot. Ya know, after I stopped.”

“I did,” Yelena agrees. “But that would not have been a victory to celebrate.”

Their eyes lock and Carol doesn’t waver. It feels like she understands, even without Yelena explaining everything in her mind. She nods once, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too,” Yelena says. “But don’t make me regret it.”

Carol laughs appreciatively at that. “Listen—“ she says, taking a small step toward Yelena. She places her hands in her pockets and looks her up and down. “I’m on your side, Yelena. Always. And I’m happy to listen if you ever need it.”

“I think—maybe,” Yelena finally says. “But we are not friends.”

“No, of course not,” Carol teases. Her eyebrow raises skyward. “I still plan to kick your ass in a rematch.”

Yelena clenches her jaw, but something loosens in her chest. “You can hope for that…Captain.”

They return to the porch side by side. Kate and Maria greet them by exchanging knowing smiles. Yelena isn’t sure what they talked about, but she can gather enough of the clues from the sparkle in their eyes.

Apologies have never been her strong suit.

Yelena can do a lot of things: render someone unconscious using only the expertly placed pad of her pinky finger, scale skyscrapers with only a grapple hook and some wire, fly helicopters over maximum security prisons and orchestrate an escape. The list is practically endless. But expressing herself with words — and, worse — admitting when she’s wrong?

That is something almost insurmountable.

She had no need for apologies in the Red Room. And if she did, she wasn’t in control of her mind long enough to dwell on it. And later, she and Natasha would settle their differences with fists and eye rolls and stony silences a majority of the time, until one of them would crack (usually Natasha). Unhealthy, probably, but nevertheless, it became second nature. And Natasha was the only person in Yelena’s life worth having those kinds of disagreements — and later, mutual understandings— with.

(In fact, it’s very similar to her dealings with Carol, which makes her stomach clench in a not-so-unpleasant way.)

But with Kate, everything is different. Yelena knows she has to do better, to be better. She can’t ice her out or explain herself with her fists. She can’t run away and hide until everything blows over. She needs to be strong enough to stay. She needs to be strong enough to admit defeat.

There’s no real easy way to explain anything that happened tonight, but Yelena knows she has to try. She owes Kate that much.

Somehow, they return home in one piece. Yelena is grateful Kate chose to spare her an interrogation and allowed her to drive in silence. But by the time they return to the apartment, Yelena’s brain is spinning. She wants to apologize desperately, but it all feels so heavy that she doesn’t know where to start.

It doesn’t help that Kate remains uncharacteristically quiet. Her silence radiates throughout the space, almost taking up more room than her voice ever could. She drops her bag by the door and heads purposefully toward the sink where she pours a glass of water. She then retreats to the bathroom, appearing a few seconds later with some Advil.

“Come here,” she directs, pointing to the kitchen chair. “Take these.”

Yelena doesn’t put up the fight she normally does. She drops the “I’m not really hurt” act because she knows it will only earn her a stern, angry Kate Bishop expression. And as adorable as that can be, she knows this isn’t the time for admiring Kate’s puppy dog pout. So, without argument, she reluctantly sits in the chair and takes the medicine, swallowing the water desperately. She had no idea she was so thirsty. Kate watches her with a neutral expression, quietly refilling the glass when Yelena’s finished. When she returns, she pulls up a chair next to her. Instead of talking, she reaches over and pulls Yelena’s hands into her own. She studies the bruised, battered knuckles and gently kisses each scrape, sending a chill down Yelena’s spine.

“Do you want to talk about it?”she half-whispers against Yelena’s skin. Her eyes flicker up and meet Yelena’s briefly, before she’s kissing the back of her hand once more.

It’s an offering — an out, if Yelena wants it. Yelena meets her eyes, ashamed, and then shakes her head.

Kate has always been too good.

“Well, you don’t have to, but I want to,” Kate replies. She gently places Yelena’s hands down on the table and retreats. “Not about—" she gestures over Yelena. “That. Although, watching you almost get charbroiled was not my favorite thing ever, so, just— know that. But I — I mostly just wanted to tell you I had a really good talk with Maria. While you were down by the water.”

“Oh?” Yelena asks, her voice husky from the strain of the fight. “And what did she have to say?”

Kate tells her about Carol’s disappearance — about the plane crash, the shady mission, how Maria had to cope. She tells about the photo on the mantle, the way they came back together after all those years. Tears glisten in her big, doe-eyes.

“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you for that long,” Kate whispers, shaking her head. Her eyes remain downcast, focused on the floor. “And then she got her back and she wasn’t— her. She didn’t remember anything. It’s—”

“Terrifying,” Yelena says, staring into the space just over Kate’s shoulder. She knows the feeling of forgetting herself too well. Kate grimaces in understanding.

“Yeah,” she agrees, exhaling slowly. She shakes her head. “If that happened to us, I think I’d wait for you forever.”

Yelena clears her throat. “Well, now, that is dramatic, Kate Bishop. If I was ever gone, I’d expect you to mourn an appropriate length of time before finding someone else. 50 years or so seems fair,” she tries to joke. “You would probably have to eat more hot sauce, in my honor. And of course, have pictures of me everywhere. But then, you would go off and find someone else.” Their eyes meet and Yelena grins. “Someone like Captain Marvel, maybe.”

Kate doesn’t reply with a laugh or a smile. She simply sighs, a heavy, loaded thing filled with anxiety. Yelena’s heart plummets.

“No one compares to you, Yelena,” Kate says seriously, not returning Yelena’s smile. Her fingers gently stroke against Yelena’s cheek. “Not even Captain Marvel.”

Yelena feels foolish for trying to keep it light. She feels even worse for being a source of pain, but before she can respond, Kate leans in close and presses their lips together and her mind goes blissfully blank.

Kate kisses with everything she has and then some, and Yelena allows herself the indulgence of falling headfirst into it.

“I’m sorry if I made you doubt that,” Kate whispers as they break apart slightly. She is careful to stay close, nudging their foreheads together.

“You didn’t,” Yelena assures her. She’s confused why Kate is apologizing at all.

Kate pulls back slowly, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. Yelena brushes it away gently and Kate chuckles. “And I wouldn’t want someone like Captain Marvel. She’s cool and all, but there’s no one cooler than you.”

“Now I know you are lying,” Yelena says, trying to frown.

“I’m really not.”

“It’s not really about her,” Yelena explains, pulling away slowly even though every fiber of her being just wants to stay wrapped up in Kate. “Even though she is very annoying.”

“What is it about, then?” Kate asks. Her eyes are pleading, and Yelena knows she has to try to give her something.

“The Avengers,” Yelena admits quietly. “It is always about the Avengers.”

“Well, I’m not doing any of that without you,” Kate insists.

Yelena sighs, shaking her head. She pushes her chair back and gets up, pacing the floor as she does.

“The Avengers are not perfect, Kate. They are not above judgement. I know you think they are heroes without fault but they make mistakes. They make bad choices. They— allowed Natasha to die—" She tries to regulate her breathing, but her heart pounds erratically. “I know they are not bad, but I will always struggle with them. It is the way it is. I lost one of the few people I care about most in the world, and now it is happening again.”

“But—"

Yelena holds up her hand. “I won’t stop you, Kate. I know this is what you want, and I would never stand in your way. You are too great to be stifled and I will not do that. But we can’t repeat the past. Natasha, Clint— that can’t be our story,” Yelena’s voice cracks as she fights back the tears. “I won’t have it.”

Her words get choked off by a sob, but before she can turn away, Kate is right there reaching for her hands.

“Hey,” she says strongly. “Look at me.” Yelena eventually obeys, her eyes stinging with tears and her face throbbing from Carol’s fists. “We are not them. And even though I can’t promise a perfect future, I can tell you that I’m with you as long as you will have me. Even if we join the Avengers, you are my family, Yelena. And I won’t ever leave you behind.”

Kate releases her hands and opens her arms. Yelena hesitates only briefly before falling into them with relief. Kate holds her tightly, and Yelena feels her soft lips tracing over the crown of her head.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” Yelena whispers, her words getting buried into the crook of Kate’s neck. It’s warm and soft, and Yelena doesn’t deserve it, but she can’t seem to bring herself to let go. Somehow, the words flow easily when she’s tucked safely in Kate’s arms. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, Kate.”

“I should have known earlier what this would be like for you,” Kate whispers back.

“It is not your job to read my mind,” Yelena assures her. “That is a scary place to be.”

“That’s true,” Kate teases, kissing her head once more. “I didn’t know you could be so petty.”

When they finally pull apart, Kate is smiling widely.

“What?” Yelena asks, frowning.

Kate scrunches her nose adorably. “You really challenged Captain Marvel for me.”

“Shut up, Bishop,” Yelena scoffs, rolling her eyes and mimicking Carol’s obnoxious American accent. Kate barks out a laugh, then leans in close, her lips ghosting over Yelena’s ear.

“I like the way you say my name better.”

“I love you, Kate,” Yelena says earnestly, shivering against Kate’s touch. Kate hums against her as Yelena wraps her up in a hug. She squeezes her archer close then adds with a chuckle, “even if you’re going to be an Avenger.”