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Kate Bishop takes her job very seriously. Nothing comes between her and protecting Manhattan, not even if it means putting herself in danger. Well, nothing except for you. You, her sweet little sister, who insists on Kate being safe and making good choices.
Kate does her best to stay safe, knowing that even when she is on a normal patrol, your anxiety is through the roof. She tries to let you know that she is okay as frequently as possible, but sometimes she is unable to. On those times, she comes home and the first thing that she does is go into your room so that you can help patch her up.
Cleaning Kate up always calms you down and helps remind you that she is okay and alive. Every time you cover a cut with a band-aid or gauze a sliver of peace is brought to you. As you patch her up, Kate murmurs quiet reminders and thanks, trying to assist in quelling your anxieties as best she can.
When you are done, you guide the raven-haired girl out into the living room and sit her on the couch. You enter the kitchen, and as you start to make her some food, you hear the TV turn on and some trash reality show begin to play. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth, knowing that Kate would deny it to everyone if you ever told them how much she loves reality TV.
After finishing up the food, you re-enter the living room and place both plates down on the coffee table. Without looking away from the TV, Kate leans forward to grab hers. She winces as she leans, prompting you to hurriedly grab her plate for her and sit her back. You scan her frantically, your anxiety spiraling again, until Kate puts her hand on your arm and pulls you down next to her. She places your hand on her heart and her hand on your heart, and she guides you in breathing with her and just feeling her heartbeat.
As you start to calm down, Kate murmurs, “I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re both safe,” over and over. You nod, letting her reassurances wash over you. Kate pulls you into her arms, squeezing you lightly and just holding on. Your emotions overwhelm you for a minute, and Kate feels her shirt get balled up in your fist as you bury your face in her chest and cry silently.
When you finally look up, Kate brushes her fingers across your cheeks to wipe the tears away. You snuggle up to her, and Kate knows that the rest of the night will be spent watching trash television while holding you.
She watches as you relax and start to fall asleep, smiling as the worried crease between your eyebrows slowly fades until it is completely gone. As you go fully limp in her arms, Kate can’t find it in herself to complain as your full body weight collapses on top of her. She’s just happy to hold you, and make you feel safe and secure as best she can. Because nothing matters more to her than you.
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