Work Text:
The options were running out, and Kate Bishop was getting desperate.
Apparently, there were certain expectations that came along with being 22. One was being expected to have her life together and knowing how to cook something that didn’t come out of a box, which she had already failed. The second was to have her wisdom teeth taken out. She had failed that one too.
According to her dentist, it was “medically necessary”. Kate had rolled her eyes at that. After all, why fix it if it didn’t hurt? That was her motto. She had booked the surgery without much thought, demanding to be put under general anaesthetic, and brushing off the order that she have someone to drive her back from her appointment. Now, she was wishing she had given it more thought. Or any thought at all, really.
She had had this surgery booked months out and rescheduling was absolutely out of the question. The $250 cancellation fee was only mildly motivating for her. Really, she couldn’t bear to call up the surgeon’s office and admit that she had no one to drive her. That was just humiliating. After all, she could consider herself moderately popular, couldn’t she? She was basically best friends with an Avenger. Well, that may have been a stretch. She was slowly but surely working her way out of the annoying lost puppy stage and into the somewhat tolerable zone. She still wasn’t quite sure if it was working. What’s more, Kate was well-liked and often recognized on campus. People she only sort of knew always nodded or waved to her in the hallway on her way to class. That had to count for something, right? Apparently, right now, it didn’t.
The truth of it was, Kate Bishop has plenty of casual acquaintances, but she could not for the life of her find anyone to drive her home while she would be high out of her mind on barbiturates. “Friend” seemed the appropriate term to call someone like that. Kate had always thought she had plenty of friends. Too late, she realized that may not be the case. She had friends in the way that rich people have friends; people who wanted to be near her and were happy to let her cover their drinks at moderately upscale clubs, but had no interest in much beyond that. It was an unfortunate time to come to such a realization. With her surgery the next morning, the severity of the situation was only just beginning to dawn on her.
“You’re sure I can’t just come by myself?” Kate had pleaded with the sullen receptionist. “Look, I’ll just take the train, it will be absolutely fine, I promise-”
“Miss Bishop, we can’t let you do that. You will be considered legally impaired for 24 hours after the procedure. You have to have someone with you, or we won’t be able to do the surgery.”
“Great. Just great.” Kate raked her hands through her hair as she wracked her brain for a solution. “Thanks. I’ll figure it out.”
Now, she was realizing that making good on that promise would be more difficult than she had anticipated.
Her mother was in prison, naturally, and there was no way in hell she was going to call Jack. She would rather die. Of course, she had exhausted the usual avenues of Franny and Greer, to no avail.
Kate could practically see Greer’s apologetic grimace through the phone. “Kate, look, I’m sorry. But you know we both have our accounting final tomorrow. I could pick you up after, maybe, but it’s going to be at least three hours and-”
“Bunch of nerds,” Kate grumbled and hung up.
She was desperate, but she wasn’t quite desperate enough to call Clint just yet. She did have his personal number - an Avenger’s personal number, she reminded herself proudly. But he had told her that he would block her if he called it that one time. She wasn’t quite sure where they stood now. Naturally, she had told anyone in her life who would listen for longer than 30 seconds that she and the Hawkeye were great friends, thank you very much. In reality, though, she doubted if Clint would be willing to tolerate her for more than an hour or so, even fully sober. She could never really tell if his noncommittal grunts meant okay, or shut up, or get lost, I never want to see you again, you stupid kid. He was tough to read that way. If Kate had to guess, the last one seemed most probable. Besides, being around him while high was probably not the best idea. Her verbal filter was marginal even at the best of times, and she had already treated him to multiple humiliating streams of consciousness about how cool he was and how much he had inspired her, featuring a few too many anecdotes from her childhood that, in hindsight, she realized she really should have kept to herself.
Kate cringed and shook her head. No, Clint was completely off the table. Besides, he was almost definitely busy doing Avenger things. Avengering? Avenging? He didn’t have the time for something so stupid and trivial like this.
Just like that, Kate realized she had exhausted her pathetic list of people she could consider friends. She could have sworn there were more than two or three people, but there it was, and Kate was still alone in her apartment at 9pm with no plans in place for tomorrow. There was no one from school she could call, besides Franny and Greer, who, regrettably, had a perfectly valid excuse. Kate tended to keep her head down as she worked, smiled politely to people in the hallways, and never met up for coffee or cram sessions or whatever it was that other normal university students did. Kate wouldn’t know. Despite her outgoing and friendly appearance, Kate preferred to do things on her own. It was better that way. Without group project members breathing down her neck, she was free to write her papers mere hours before the deadline in a caffeine-induced haze without any dirty looks and passive-aggressive messages. Not everyone understood her tried-and-true method. Their loss, really. It was efficient, and it had worked for her for 22 years and counting. Well, maybe not counting anymore. It was really biting her in the ass now.
Kate scrolled through the contacts on her phone one last time, half of which she hardly recognized. She paced aimless circles around the kitchen island, biting absentmindedly at her lip. No, this couldn’t be it. She simply refused to reschedule that surgery. Kate Bishop was no quitter. She could find someone. Could you hire someone for this sort of thing? She could hire someone for just about anything, right? This was no different. But she grimaced when she thought of how pathetic it would be for her to hire someone to look after her because no one wanted to do it willingly.
As she reached the end of her extensive contacts list, she was no closer to finding her answer. Until her finger hovered over a name that really shouldn’t even have been there in the first place.
Kate grimaced. No, that was definitely a terrible idea, possibly the worst she had ever had. Now that was saying something. She set her phone down on the island and walked away, shaking her head. About 5 seconds later, she picked it back up again. The pros and cons balanced each other out in her head.
Well, desperate times did call for desperate measures, after all. And this was probably the most desperate of them all.
Yelena Belova had saved Kate’s ass once before. If you counted the times she spared Kate’s life though she could have easily snuffed it out, that would make it dozens. If that didn’t make her trustworthy, what did?
Kate wasn’t sure if she could consider Yelena a friend. After all, friends did not typically electrocute each other and throw each other off of rooftops. They did things like enjoy each other’s company and eat macaroni together and sent each other stupid memes.
Kate ran a quick analysis.
1. She certainly had enjoyed Yelena’s company, even though she really shouldn’t have. More often than she should have, she found herself wishing that she had someone to share her pathetic excuses for meals with, and her mind flitted unbidden to Yelena’s smiling face, even if she did have odd taste in condiments. It might be nice not to eat alone for once.
2. See point 1.
3. Somehow, Yelena and Kate had started a tradition of sending dog memes to each other. Kate was pretty sure she was the one who had started it, though she didn’t entirely remember the night she had been moderately intoxicated and sent Yelena a meme asking how a dog would wear pants. Instead of blocking Kate’s number, Yelena had offered her opinion. Wrong, of course, but Kate could deal with that. It had started an odd sort of routine between them, and Kate wasn’t complaining.
So, in the end, it balanced out, didn’t it? Yelena may not exactly be a friend, but Kate didn’t think they were quite enemies anymore. Kate had never really had enemies before, because what normal person did, but she was pretty sure it didn’t work like that. After all, enemies did not send each other dog memes, and they did not smile at each other’s texts. Surely if there was no one else, a bloodthirsty vigilante could fit the bill just fine.
Kate’s thumbs flew before she could stop them.
Kate Bishop: Hey! Want to do me a teeny tiny, eensy weensy favour?
Really, Kate only had the courage to send it because she doubted Yelena would reply. Assassins were tricky like that. She set her phone absentmindedly on the counter and wandered off to scrounge a handful of stale chips from the thinning pantry. The text took all of 30 seconds to slip her mind. Until, that was, a loud chime rang across the silent apartment. Kate nearly choked on her poor excuse for nutrition. She fumbled with the phone and squinted at the screen.
Yelena Belova: That depends.
Yelena Belova: Did you kill someone, Kate Bishop? Need me to help clean up?
Kate’s eyes widened. Her reply came hastily. Forget looking desperate. She was desperate. Yelena had to know that, too, so she made no attempt to hide it.
Kate Bishop: Jesus, no, you psychopath.
Kate Bishop: It’s worse.
Yelena’s call came only a few moments later. Kate scrambled to pick up, nearly dropping her phone in the sink in the process. When she managed to get it back and hit the green “accept” button, her words came out breathless.
“Kate Bishop!” Yelena sounded just as casual and breezy as always. Kate tried to bite back the smile that tugged at her lips, but it slipped past her resolve. Yelena saying her name like that tended to have that effect.
“Yelena, hi.”
“So. You need my help, then? How many bodies? Please tell me there is not a lot of blood.” Yelena shuddered. Kate was only about 60% sure she was joking.
“Uh, no. No bodies. No blood,” Kate explained weakly, in a way that would certainly not sound convincing to any concerned passerby who happened to overhear their conversation.
“Another girls’ night, then? Only rule, you must cook this time.” Yelena sounded serious.
“Not that either. I mean, maybe one day, but-” Kate trailed off. The thought had crossed her mind far more often than she cared to admit to anyone, maybe even herself. She figured Yelena’s laugh had a lot to do with that. And then there was the way her nose crinkled when she smiled. And her gleaming green eyes that seemed to follow Kate’s every move, the quiet intensity of her attention that made Kate flush, the way she scolded Kate about her cutlery with an affronted scowl on her face, making indignant butterflies swirl in her chest…
No. Kate scowled and dragged the heel of her palm up her forehead as if to wring those thoughts out.
“I mean, it is a favour, like I said, but no bodies or killing or anything. I just need…”
Kate suddenly realized the sheer ridiculousness of her situation. It hit her like a semi-truck flattening a pedestrian into two dimensions. Here she was, calling someone she barely knew, by any reasonable person’s standards, trying to convince her to be her legal guard dog to make sure she didn’t stumble in front of a bus or get hopelessly lost on the way back to her apartment. Or choke on her own blood, or swallow a gauze pad, or or or. The ways Kate Bishop could remove herself from the gene pool seemed infinite, stretching ahead of her like endless fields.
But that was not Yelena’s problem. Sure, they had shared a pot of macaroni that one time. But that was months ago, and this was Yelena Belova they were talking about here. Black Widow. Bloodthirsty vigilante. Almost-murderer of Clint Barton. This whole scheme was idiotic.
In a rare miracle worthy of sainthood, the logical part of Kate’s brain kicked in. “You know what? Nevermind. It’s fine. It’s not that big a deal, really, I’ll just reschedule the appointment and maybe then Greer can take me then. I’m sorry I bothered you, Yelena. I don’t know what-”
“What appointment, Kate? Are you sick?” The concern in Yelena’s voice took Kate by surprise.
“What? No! I’m fine. I mean, it’s just my wisdom teeth. I’m supposed to have them out, and I’m going under general anaesthetic because I really do not want to be awake for that, but I need a ‘ responsible adult ’ to drive me home after for some reason and technically I’m not supposed to be alone for 24 hours, but Franny and Greer are both busy with school and I’m still not sure if Clint hates me or not so I am definitely not calling him, but I really don’t want to reschedule because the waiting list is like, a million years long, so I just thought-”
“I will do it.”
“What?”
“I said, I will do it.” A hint of a smile crept into Yelena’s voice. “You said you need someone to drive you home, yes? I can do that. I am such a good driver, you wouldn't even know.”
Kate had never thought about that before, but now she raised an eyebrow. Could she really trust someone who probably got into destructive car chases weekly? Was that something assassins did? Probably. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Are you sure? I mean-”
“I am sure. You will be on the drugs, yes? The laughing gas? I have seen the internet videos. Funny. Very funny.”
Kate flushed a deep red. “Well, yes, I guess I will be. You sure you want to deal with that?”
Yelena’s snorting laugh made Kate’s heart jump. “Of course I do! I would love to see you high, Kate Bishop. I wonder what sort of skeletons you have in your closet. You have anything you need to tell me first?” she teased.
“No!” Kate yelped. It was just now dawning on her that being high out of her mind around Yelena would be infinitely worse than around Clint, with infinitely more possibility of humiliating herself. What was she thinking? Obviously she was not thinking at all. She had to fix this mistake, and quickly.
Yelena didn’t give her the chance. “What time is your appointment tomorrow?”
“Well, I’m supposed to be there at 10:00, but-”
“Done. I will see you tomorrow at 9:30, Kate Bishop.”
With that, Yelena hung up, leaving Kate with her jaw hanging ever so slightly. Whether she was astonished at her own stupidity or Yelena’s willingness, she wasn’t quite sure. Kate groaned and rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes until sparks danced across the blackness. The pamphlet she had been given by the surgeon’s office expressly forbade any alcohol consumption in the 24 hours leading up to the procedure. Briefly, Kate considered breaking that rule. She would need it. The surgeon would understand, surely. Instead, she groaned and made her way to bed, crawling under the covers with trepidation weighing in her stomach.
The next morning, Kate half expected Yelena not to show up. Perhaps she had invented their entire conversation last night, another figment of her overactive imagination. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the black car that pulled up alongside the sidewalk was definitely real. And when the window rolled down and Kate saw the smiling face inside, the way her heart jumped was definitely real too. God, it had been so long since she had seen that face. Something behind her ribs twinged. Kate may have stood and stared for a moment too long before Yelena leaned across the passenger seat and flung the door open with some effort.
“What are you waiting for? Get in,” Yelena urged her.
Kate blinked to clear her head. She slipped into the passenger seat, shut the door, and drew her knees in as far as they would go, trying not to take up any more space than strictly necessary. “Thanks for doing this, Yelena. I mean, you really don’t have to,” Kate mumbled.
“I do not mind,” Yelena said, with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Yelena glanced across at her. “I only have one condition.”
Dread twisted in Kate’s stomach. “What?”
A wicked grin spread across Yelena’s face. “You let me record you after.”
“Absolutely not ,” Kate groaned.
“I do not think you are in a position to be making any demands, Kate Bishop. Where is your leverage? I am the one with the car and the functioning brain.”
“My… good looks and charm?” Kate offered tentatively.
“Right.” Yelena barked a laugh. “I will turn this car around. You think I won’t?”
“Fine, ” Kate huffed. Then, quieter, she muttered, “Blackmailer.”
Yelena’s grin almost made the future humiliation worth it. Almost. “Oh, and try not to bleed on the car. It’s a rental. I do not want to explain that.”
“You rented a car?”
Yelena simply shrugged, as if to say, obviously. “I needed one,” she said, by way of explanation.
At the surgeon’s office, the wait was interminable. Kate filled out all the intake forms while Yelena looked on, a perpetual look of mild amusement written on her face. That look made Kate blush and duck her head to scribble her signature on a sheet of paper that she barely even read. Something about “no physical activity for a week afterward”, a guideline she had no intentions of following. They really expected her to sit around for a week? Kate had things to do.
Without her knowledge, Kate bounced her knee furiously as she sat. She didn’t even realize she was doing it until Yelena gave her a pointed glance.
“Nervous?” Yelena asked.
“What? No!” Kate shot back, indignant. “I fought you. I think I can handle a little surgery.”
“First, you did not fight me,” Yelena said, shaking her head. “You inconvenienced me, and that is if I am being generous. Second, you look nervous.” She tilted her head towards Kate’s incorrigible leg, which still seemed to be doing its best impression of a caffeine-filled child turned loose in a bouncy castle.
Damn it. Kate couldn’t argue with that. Forcibly, she stilled her bouncing knee and folded her hands tightly in her lap. “I’m not nervous,” she insisted fiercely. “I’ve just never gone under before, okay? And I watched this video about anaesthesia awareness and I really should not have done that because it did not help at all. So no, I’m not nervous. Just… realistic.”
“It will be fine.” Yelena’s easy smile eased Kate’s nerves. When she spoke in that low, easy voice, it was so easy to believe every word she said.
“Kate Bishop?” called a nurse. Startled, Kate practically leaped to her feet and wiped her palms against her sweatpants. It felt odd to hear her full name from anyone else’s lips other than Yelena's. She had gotten quite used to that. As she followed the nurse into the great unknown of the operating room, she glanced uneasily back over her shoulder. Yelena flashed a warm smile, and for once, there was no hint of mocking sarcasm in it.
“I will see you on the other side, Kate Bishop! Good luck!” Yelena called rather loudly across the quiet waiting room. This earned her a dirty glance from a woman in the corner. Kate just grinned back and flashed a quick thumbs-up.
As she lay on the table, Kate regretted everything that had led her to this point. As heart monitors were clipped onto her finger and ankle and a blood pressure cuff constricted her arm, she tried not to squirm. When they placed the mask over her face, Kate wrinkled her nose. No one had warned her that it would smell so awful. She scowled as the anaesthetist told her to breathe in, but after a brief struggle, she managed to comply. A light buzz spread through her body as she breathed in the gas. Two more, and her eyelids began to flutter. The overhead light blurred above her.
What felt like 10 seconds later, Kate woke up shivering.
The room around her stubbornly refused to come into focus. Groggily, Kate lifted her head and found that she was lying on her side, her hands tucked in towards her chest. And damn, she was cold. She lifted a hand and saw it shaking like a leaf in front of her. Furrowing her brow, she commanded it to stop, but it had its own plans. Kate groaned and pulled the pathetically thin knit blanket up towards her chin. The words “Patient Care Area - Do Not Enter” materialized on a door across the room from her. She looked to either side of her, where rows of empty beds sat. She was alone in the recovery room. She could have sworn there was supposed to be someone here, someone important. Who was it?
A name materialized on her tongue. “‘Lena?” Kate croaked around the wads of gauze in her mouth. Now she remembered. Yelena really had driven her here. But she was nowhere to be seen. Was that a hallucination too?
The nurse - Miranda, Kate realized, as she had to work hard to decipher the letters on her name tag - heard her incoherent complaints and came to Kate’s bedside. Her lips were moving, and Kate thought she heard something along the lines of, “How are you feeling?” Kate could only groan in response.
Miranda, that miraculous angel sent from above, left Kate to recover in her own time. After a few minutes of staring aimlessly out the window, Kate felt a dull stinging in the back of her hand. Frowning, she lifted her arm to see an IV protruding, a bag hanging at the foot of the bed dripping clear liquid through the tube. Briefly, she considered ripping it out and making a run for it. That’s what always happened in the movies and they had to be onto something, right? But that would take too much energy. Kate could barely even move the lead weights that were her arms. Instead, she laid her head back down and waited for her mind to clear.
Finally, she gained the courage to attempt to walk. The nurse held her arm as she shuffled haphazardly towards the door. When Kate’s unfocused eyes finally settled on Yelena’s face, a dopey grin took over her face, tugging on the stitches she still couldn’t feel thanks to half her face being frozen.
“‘Lena! You’re hereeeee,” Kate mumbled, mostly incoherently. She couldn’t be sure if Yelena understood her. The smile on her face seemed adequate, though.
Kate’s eyes flicked around the room as the nurse gave instructions to Yelena and pressed papers full of instructions into her hands. In the state she was in, Kate hardly remembered where she lived. She clearly could not be trusted with the recovery instructions. That was what Yelena was there for. As Yelena guided her out of the clinic to the car, Kate slung an unsteady arm over her shoulder.
“You’re soooo short,” Kate giggled. “Small.” She lifted a hand to pat the top of Yelena’s head and nearly lost her balance. Yelena scowled, but stopped her from falling on her face.
“And you are tall and very high,” Yelena returned evenly. “Let’s get you home, stupid girl.”
“M’not!” Kate slurred indignantly. Her protests fell on deaf ears.
On the drive home, Yelena watched the road, and Kate watched Yelena. The blonde kept her eyes firmly fixed on the road - clearly she had not been lying about being a responsible driver - but Kate dedicated the same amount of concentration to staring at the contours of Yelena’s profile. Every once in a while, her eyes flicked quizzically over to Kate, who didn’t notice.
“You’re prettyyy. Y’know that?” Kate blurted.
A muscle twitched in Yelena’s jaw and she gripped the steering wheel harder. If Kate hadn’t been on another planet at that moment, she might have noticed the light flush spreading across her cheeks, or the tense bob of her throat. “Thank you.”
“S’true!” Kate exclaimed earnestly, in response to Yelena’s perceived slight. “Sooo beauty-full. Sooo not fair.” It crossed Kate’s mind to kiss her then, but the entire bottom half of her face was numb, including her lips. That might present a problem. Instead, Kate just chuckled to herself, drawing a perplexed look from Yelena.
“I like you wayyyy too much,” Kate slurred. “I shouldn’t like you at all. I mean, you’re kinda crazy. Almost killed me. And you’re an ass. Assassin?” She cast about her addled brain for the word. “But I do. Like you. Whyzzat?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yelena said tersely. Kate was not convinced.
Getting Kate into the elevator and back into her apartment was a valiant struggle, but Yelena managed it. As Kate lay on the couch and groaned something incoherent, Yelena dug an almost fossilized-looking icepack out of the depths of the freezer, wrapped it in a tea towel, and handed it to Kate. Kate stared at it as if it was a strange alien object, arriving from across the galaxy just to perplex her.
“Put this on your face. For the swelling,” Yelena instructed, and Kate complied. She held the ice pack against her face and shrank down into the cushions, hunching her shoulders. As if Yelena knew she had lost all capacity to make decisions, she picked up the TV remote and flicked on an episode of Brooklyn 99. Kate’s eyes brightened and she sat up.
“Love this showww,” she said with a grin. “Rosa’s so funny.” She squinted at Yelena, as if suddenly coming to a realization. “Y’remind me of her. Knives. Like knives, right?”
Yelena rolled her eyes. “Stay here and watch this. I am going to Dairy Queen and getting you a Blizzard. Don’t. Move.”
“Min’ chocolate!” Kate yelled as Yelena slipped out the door. Soon, though, she became engrossed in the TV. The credits rolled on the first episode as Yelena made her way back, the promised frozen treat held aloft like a torch burning through the darkness. Sluggishly, Kate threw her arms up to celebrate, nearly smacking herself in the face in the process.
“You’re sssso nice t’me,” Kate muttered as she took the Blizzard from Yelena’s hands. “Bringin’ me ice cream. Sooo nice.”
“You are so lucky I like you,” Yelena answered, exasperated.
Kate’s eyes widened. “You like mee?” she gasped, as if she had just discovered the secret to the unification of physics. “Wowwww.”
“Unfortunately.”
Yelena shoved a fistful of paper napkins into Kate’s lap. With her lips and tongue still frozen, Kate’s efforts to guide the spoon into her mouth and eat the ice cream were only partially successful. When she grinned at Yelena, melting green ice cream dripping from her lips and splattering across her hoodie, Yelena just sighed and dabbed the mess away. With the way Kate was tearing through the Blizzard, this needed to be done every other bite. Kate repaid Yelena for her service with a dopey grin, bloody gauze and all.
When she was done, Kate shivered. “M’cold,” she complained.
Dutifully, Yelena draped a fleece blanket over her and tucked it around Kate’s shoulders. Still, it wasn’t enough. Kate scowled up at her from within her cocoon, trying to channel every once of imperious fury into her burning blue eyes.
“Still cold,” she announced. Bewildered and mildly annoyed, Yelena just looked at her as if to say, what do you want me to do about it? Kate stretched her arms out and smiled lopsidedly. “Y’gotta cuddle me.”
Yelena stiffened. “I don’t think so.”
Bewildered, Kate frowned. “Whaddaya mean? C’mere.”
Maybe it was Kate’s pathetic drugged state, or maybe Yelena was just experiencing an uncharacteristic moment of weakness that day, but she eventually gave in with an eye roll. Grinning, Kate wriggled about to make room for Yelena on the couch. Propped against Yelena’s chest, she finally sighed with content and closed her eyes. Her limp arm dangled over the edge of the couch, her fingers brushing the carpet.
“Much better,” Kate sighed. For what felt like a lifetime, Yelena was too terrified to move. Kate’s weight against her chest paralyzed her where she lay. But as Kate’s breathing slowed and steadied, Yelena found her hand moving of its own accord to stroke the tangled hair away from Kate’s face. She marveled at the colour, that of a raven’s wing catching rays of sunlight within its midnight feathers. A strange urge overcame her, and before she even knew what she was doing, she pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Kate’s head. The serene look on Kate’s face indicated that she was nowhere near the realm of consciousness. Still, as if sensing Yelena’s reckless act of affection, she hummed in her sleep and pressed her cheek towards the beating warmth of Yelena’s heart.
Policing the belligerent Kate was a full time job. Her sleep didn’t last long before she was up and pacing around the apartment. Every half an hour, Yelena oversaw the changing of the gauze and made sure she took her pain medications and antibiotics. More than once, Yelena had to physically bar her from the door, as Kate got it into her head to go on a nice jog.
“No exercise! Get back to bed!” Yelena hissed, exasperated. Kate tramped back to the bedroom with a huff and an eye roll.
When Kate finally crashed, she crashed hard. As she succumbed to the siren song of sleep, she was barely aware of Yelena making her sit up and taking the gauze out of her mouth. She mumbled groggy thanks and promptly passed out, sagging against the pillows.
When she woke, Kate’s mouth was full of the rusty taste of blood. A dull ache throbbed in her jaw. As she blinked sleep out of her eyes, a chilling sense of regret dripped through her veins. Yelena. Oh God. She had seen and heard everything. What had Kate done? What had she said? Everything from the day before was a shifting mist, memories evading her grasping fingers no matter how she reached for them. A pained groan escaped Kate’s lips and she fought the urge to turn over and bury her face in the pillow. Only the thought of staining her pillowcase with blood stopped her.
Unsteadily, she stumbled to the bathroom. Her swollen face stared back at her from the water-spotted mirror. There was already a cup full of water there on the counter, and Kate picked it up without a second thought. She swirled the water around her mouth to rinse out the blood and screwed up her face when she recognized the tang of salt. Ungracefully, she spat it out and watched it swirl down the drain, a vaguely disgusted expression on her face. When she turned, the jolt of surprise that hit her was nearly strong enough to make her jump out of her skin.
Yelena Belova stood in the doorway, brandishing orange bottles of prescription pills that Kate could not remember picking up. Could Yelena have gotten them? The thought made her head spin.
Pressing a hand to her chest, Kate let her breath leave her in a great whoosh of air. “Jesus, Yelena. What are you still doing here?”
Yelena rattled the pill bottles at her. “Meds. Now,” was all she offered.
Embarrassment made Kate’s cheeks flush as she struggled with the child-proof, and apparently Kate-proof, lids. Yelena watched her closely as she swallowed the painkillers and antibiotics. Once she was satisfied, she nodded and turned her back, padding to the living room. Like a lost puppy, Kate trailed after her.
“You really didn’t have to stay, you know,” Kate said with an apologetic grimace.
“It is no problem. Really,” Yelena answered, waving her hand dismissively.
The next question on Kate’s tongue made her cringe, but she had to ask it. “So. How bad was I?”
A smile tugged on Yelena’s lips. “Not so bad. You were sweet, actually. Very sweet.”
“Me? Sweet? Never,” Kate scoffed.
“Right? Who would have thought?” Yelena shrugged. Folding her arms across the counter, she leaned on the island, a gleam in her eyes. “You really think I’m that pretty?”
A wildfire swept across Kate’s face. “Uh. I said that?” she said lamely.
“Several times.”
“Hm. Must be true then.” Trying to present a facade of nonchalance, Kate shrugged, but the smile that stretched across her face pulled at her stitches and made her wince. Seeing her reaction, Yelena frowned in concern.
“No smiling. It is forbidden,” Yelena commanded.
“Well, then stop making me smile,” Kate retorted.
“No promises, Kate Bishop.”
Rolling her eyes, Kate trudged to the couch and settled into its worn cushions, determined to continue her TV marathon from the day before. She hardly even remembered that she hadn’t eaten proper food - Blizzards probably didn’t count - in nearly 24 hours, until Yelena practically dropped a bowl of scrambled eggs into her lap. A fresh ice pack followed shortly after. She looked up incredulously
“You made this for me?”
“Obviously. You need to eat. So weird, Kate Bishop.” Yelena oddly seemed to avoid Kate’s eyes as she plopped down next to her, a half-eaten poptart clutched in her hand serving as her breakfast. Yelena’s phone lay face down on the coffee table. It began to vibrate with an incoming call, but Yelena let it ring and ring until whoever it was eventually gave up. As Kate hit play, she tried to sneak a sly glance over at Yelena. Subtlety was not her strong suit, though.
“Shouldn’t you get that?” Kate asked.
“Hm. I don’t think so.”
A twinge of guilt twisted in Kate’s chest. “You know, you don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really, I am.”
Yelena shrugged. “I know. But I think I will stick around to keep an eye on you, just in case. You are not an easy patient, you know.”
Kate grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. It was funny.”
“Whatever videos you took, delete them. That’s blackmail material.”
Yelena held up her hands. “No videos. You are safe, Kate Bishop.”
Suspiciously, Kate narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying to me. This is a trick, isn’t it?”
“No need. I have a perfectly good memory.”
Kate groaned and rolled her eyes. Gratitude flooded her chest, for this weird blonde assassin who brought her breakfast and made her take her meds and really seemed to care, no matter how she seemed to brush it off. Kate grinned and slid just an inch or two closer to her on the couch.
“Thank you, Yelena. Really.”
“I thought I told you it was no problem,” Yelena returned breezily.
“I know. But I thought I’d tell you again.”
The scrambled eggs proved to be a perplexing challenge for Kate, but she soon figured out how to eat them without spilling too many all over the couch. Lucky could have the scraps, anyways. She pushed the bowl away and lifted the ice pack to her face. Yelena’s eyes were fixed firmly on the screen. Kate’s eyes narrowed. There was no way she really found a comedy cop show that engrossing. Moving slowly, as if trying not to startle a wild animal, she leaned her head against Yelena’s shoulder. Hardly daring to breathe, she looked up at Yelena’s face, which seemed ever so slightly flushed now.
“This okay?” Kate murmured.
“Yeah.” Yelena’s reply was short, but it was all Kate needed. Wriggling strategically, she drew closer, until her side was pressed against Yelena’s, sapping the warmth from her skin. How was she always so warm? Now, Yelena’s nearness was a comfort, instead of a distraction. Finally content, Kate let her eyes roam back to the TV. The painkillers were starting to dull the ache in her jaw again. The salty tang of blood still filled her mouth, but she could ignore it. When Yelena finally leaned her head against Kate's, she couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. Stitches be damned.