Chapter Text
The battlefield is chaotic. Filled with smoke and fire, the air heavy with the roar of artillery and the screams of the wounded. A squad of soldiers surges forward, mud clinging to their boots, dodging bursts of shrapnel.
In the fray, a young soldier charges ahead, her face streaked with dirt and sweat, hair whipping wildly—her helmet lost somewhere in the madness. Her eyes burn with a fierce determination, every step a battle against the fury of war itself.
Just a red bandana is tied around her head, barely holding back her soaked hair as rain pours down in sheets, turning the ground beneath her into a treacherous mire. The bandana is meant to keep the sweat out of her eyes and off the smudged camo face paint, but in this downpour, it’s more of a statement than a necessity—a slash of defiant color against the mud-splattered uniforms around her. Drenched to the bone, she moves with a fierce energy, the bandana adding a touch of rebel cool to her relentless advance through the chaos.
She charges ahead with a burst of speed, firing at the enemy with fierce determination. Suddenly, a deafening BANG rips through the air. An explosion erupts nearby, and in an instant, she’s airborne—her body flipping violently, limbs flailing. Time seems to slow as she arcs through the rain-soaked sky, before crashing down with a sickening thud, face-first into a murky puddle. The water ripples around her motionless form. She won’t be getting back up.
“Cut!”
Kate Bishop lifts her head out of the water, sputtering slightly as she pushes herself up, shifting her weight to one side. She looks up at the camera technician with a grin, her wet hair clinging to her face, and flashes her signature Kate Bishop: Stuntwoman ‘thumbs up.’
Yelena, the blonde camera tech, chuckles—a sound that cuts through the chaos of the set. Kate’s pretty sure that laugh means she’s impressed, which is exactly what she was going for. Yelena nods, clearly pleased with the shot they just nailed. Kate can’t help but feel a small, victorious thrill.
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Inside Kate’s cramped trailer on set, the air is thick with the adrenaline of a long day. Kate, pulls Yelena close, their lips meeting in a heated kiss. With effortless strength, Kate lifts the blonde off her feet, never breaking the kiss, her hands firm on Yelena’s waist. She sets her down gently on the small fold-down table, its edges creaking under the sudden weight. Yelena’s breath catches, her fingers tangling in Kate’s hair, drawing her in closer as they lose themselves in the moment, the outside world fading away.
“Looking for Sue Bishop’s stunt double,” comes crackling through the walkie-talkie on the counter top.
Kate and Yelena break apart in an instant, both breathing heavily. Yelena slides off the tiny table with a soft thud, while Kate hastily rakes her fingers through her hair, trying to make herself presentable. Noticing the mess Kate’s made of her hair, Yelena reaches up and smooths it out with a few gentle strokes, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Honestly, you’re so uncoordinated,” she teases, giving Kate a playful nudge toward the door. Kate chuckles, stealing one last quick kiss before grabbing the walkie-talkie and heading out, her heart still racing from both the kiss and the sudden call back to reality.
Kate opens the door of the trailer and steps out into the bustling set. A P.A. is waiting for her, quickly handing over a steaming cup of coffee. “Thanks,” Kate says, taking a sip of her favorite liquid, the warmth spreading through her.
As Yelena steps out behind her, the P.A. offers a casual greeting. “Hey, Yelena.”
“Hey Kate, thanks so much for the stunt chat,” Yelena says as she shrugs and starts to scurry away.
“Stunt chats. I love ‘em. Anytime!” Kate shrugs and half shouts to the camera techs back.
“Hey, uh, Sue needs to see you at the monitor,” the P.A. says, glancing up from their clipboard with a knowing smile.
“Uh oh,” Kate mutters, starting to walk. The P.A. falls in step beside her.
“Yeah,” they chuckle, a hint of amusement in their voice.
“Am I in trouble?” Kate asks, half-joking, half-wary.
The P.A. just shrugs, leaving Kate to wonder as they weave through the set. She’s talking about Susan Bishop—Hollywood’s biggest action star and Kate’s boss for the last six years. She also happens to be Kate’s older sister. That dual role of sibling and stuntwoman makes moments like this a toss-up between a professional critique and a sisterly ribbing. Either way, Kate braces herself as they approach the monitor, ready for whatever comes next.
Kate pulls out her walkie as she strides toward the building that serves as their set for the day. “Uh… flying in,” she announces, pushing open the door. She spots the cluster of stunt coordinators nearby and heads straight for them. “What happened? What’s up?” she asks, her eyes scanning their faces for clues.
One of the stunt coordinators, arms crossed and looking mildly amused, shakes his head. “Looks like we’re going again. You know Sue and Eleanor—there’s a lot of grumbling and hand gestures over at the monitor. Not sure what’s going on, but—”
“Let me guess, too much face?” Kate cuts him off, a wry grin forming.
Kate takes another sip of her coffee as she navigates through the cluttered set, her focus set on the monitor area ahead. As she passes by Yelena, who’s meticulously setting up a camera shot, the blonde’s voice cuts through the chatter, authoritative yet clear, “Ok, guys. Go to one for me.”
Kate pauses mid-stride, turning slightly toward Yelena. “Um…Yelena, right?” she calls out, her tone a blend of recognition and casual inquiry. She offers a quick smile, aiming to connect amidst the bustle, acknowledging Yelena’s role with a nod before continuing toward her destination.
“What’s your name again?” Yelena responds with a teasing lilt, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she meets Kate’s gaze. The corners of her mouth lift slightly, barely containing the smile that’s trying to break free at the sight of the brunette stuntwoman nearby.
Kate approaches the monitor just in time to hear Susan animatedly explaining, “When you look at my face, then look at her jaw compared to mine—it’s off. It’s like…”
Eleanor, the producer, nods in agreement, chiming in with, “Yeah, we can’t just replace her face…”
Sue bursts out, unable to find the right words, “It’s like Mrs. Potato Head!” She quickly turns to Kate, her expression apologetic yet earnest. “I mean, no offense or anything, but you know,” she adds, trying to soften the comparison.
“Oh, yeah, no. Sorry, I got lost in your beautiful jawline. It’s dreamy,” Kate quips with a sarcastic smile, well aware that the humor might fly over Sue’s head.
Sue lets out a brief chuckle, shaking her head. “No, we’re just saying it’s not quite working for us.”
“Okay,” Kate nods, taking the feedback in stride.
Eleanor clicks her tongue, searching for the right words. “Let’s uh…”
“Let’s go again?” Kate interjects, already anticipating the next steps.
“Oh, yeah, no, we’re gonna have to go again,” Sue confirms, her tone final.
“Okay. Okay,” Kate responds, her nod more determined this time, ready to dive back into action and perfect the shot.
“One hundred percent,” Eleanor affirms with a serious nod, emphasizing the need for a retry.
Susan hesitates, her brows furrowed as she turns to Kate. “I don’t know, sis, do you think uh…?”
“Try to make some magic,” Eleanor suggests, her voice encouraging, trying to spark some creative solution.
“Maybe you could do it backwards or something? I don’t know. It’s just… less face,” Sue finally says, her gaze fixed on Kate, searching for agreement or an alternative.
“Yeah,” Kate responds, nodding firmly at the two women.
Eleanor Bishop is Susan’s producer. She’s been making her oldest daughter look good at her youngest daughter’s expense for years. Not that Kate can complain. She gets paid enough. And has had a solid gig as her sister’s stunt double for her whole acting career. Kate, herself, was never good at acting, Sue was always better than her in that aspect. And Kate was never one for the spotlight. She’ll happily let her sister take the spotlight while she gets to do the cool stuff.
“Thank you,” Eleanor says with a sweet tone as Kate begins her stride toward the stunt rig. Her voice holds a practiced ease, one that’s become all too familiar on set.
“All right. Let’s go, Katie!” Sue calls out, her cheer ringing clear across the bustling set. Her words are meant to motivate, but they carry a familiarity that Kate has long outgrown.
Kate turns her head back towards her mother and sister, a slight frown etching her features, but she doesn’t stop walking. “Don’t call me Katie!” she asserts, her tone a mix of jest and earnest, as she continues her determined march to the rig.
As Kate walks past Yelena again, she can’t help but smile to herself, overhearing the blonde confidently directing her crew. She grabs her walkie-talkie, pressing the talk button firmly. “We need to switch the pick points to the front. She wants to go again,” Kate relays, her voice clear and authoritative.
“Copy that, Kate. We’ll flip the rig. You’ll be falling backwards this time,” the coordinator responds promptly, his voice crackling through the speaker.
“Thank you,” Kate replies as she steps into the glass elevator, her gaze catching the busy set outside. “Yelena, go to channel two?” she asks, signaling a need for a more private conversation as the doors slide closed. She then clicks the walkie to a different frequency.
“Stay quiet, please. Everyone, stay off channel one now,” the second assistant director’s voice comes through the walkie, stern and clear.
Obediently, Yelena flips her walkie to channel two, just as Kate had suggested. She glances over to the glass elevator where Kate stands, visible but separated by the clear barrier. “Do you have a question for me?” Yelena asks, her voice curious and tinged with a hint of amusement as she watches Kate.
“Uh, yeah. It just looked like you wanted to ask me something earlier…” Kate trails off, her words fading into a smile—the quintessential Bishop charm at play, knowing it usually does well to break the ice and draw people in.
“Oh, I was thinking of grabbing a spicy margarita after work. I was wondering if you’re into spicy margaritas,” Yelena’s voice comes through the walkie, her gaze holding Kate’s through the glass of the elevator.
Just as Kate prepares to respond, the elevator begins its ascent, enclosing her in the rising glass dome. She lets out a chuckle before pressing the talk button. “Um, well, just to keep it professional, I can only have one spicy margarita. Because if I have two, I start making bad decisions,” she admits with a wry grin.
Yelena’s laughter crackles through the walkie. “Well, you know, drinking margaritas is all about making bad decisions,” she teases back, her tone light and enticing.
The elevator carries Kate higher, but her smile lingers, the prospect of post-work drinks with Yelena adding a spark to the end of her day.
“Which reminds me, um, after this job—I need to sit on the sand for a while,” Kate starts, her voice echoing slightly in the rising elevator. “I was going to ask you something,” she continues, her tone hinting at something more beneath her casual demeanor.
“Tell me,” Yelena’s voice responds warmly, encouragingly, through the walkie.
“Do you have any towels I can borrow?” Kate asks, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile as she reaches the top floor. She steps out of the elevator and walks down the hallway, her steps light, amused by her own question and the casual intimacy it implies.
Yelena’s laughter filters through the walkie, a sound that makes Kate’s smile broaden as she heads toward the rig setup, feeling a bit more connected despite the physical distance between them.
Yelena’s soft chuckles resonate through the walkie, “Yeah, I have some towels. You know, it’s pretty risky to swim alone.”
Kate’s smile widens at the response. “Well, I’d ask you to be my swim buddy, but I don’t know if you have a bathing suit,” she teases as she steps onto the platform, where the rig is being set up. Glancing around, she adds playfully, “Wait a second. What do you call that across the pond?”
“We call it a swimming costume,” Yelena answers back, her giggle mingling with the sounds of the set as Kate is busied with wires and straps being attached to her.
The friendly banter makes the prep work feel lighter, and Kate finds herself looking forward to their plans, anchored by Yelena’s spirited energy even as she readies herself for the next stunt.
Kate giggles into the walkie-talkie, her voice light with the imagery. “Imagine that. After this, you and I could both be on the beach somewhere in our swimming costumes, drinking spicy margaritas, making bad decisions.”
A crew member approaches, giving her a thumbs-up. “Okay, good to go,” he informs her, and the rest of the team steps back, clearing the area.
As Kate steadies herself for the stunt, Yelena’s voice comes back, soft and wistful. “Imagine that.”
The words hang in the air, a shared daydream that lingers even as Kate focuses on the task at hand.
“Okay, let’s keep it locked up all around!” the first assistant director shouts, his voice commanding attention.
Kate hands her walkie to an assistant, her breath steadying as she mentally prepares. She zips up her jacket, slipping on her sunglasses—the character’s signature look before a big stunt.
“Let’s strap her in. Everyone quiet, please! Speed on ‘A’,” the call echoes across the set.
Kate exhales sharply, the sound barely audible amidst the set’s hush.
“You all right?” someone asks her, concern laced in their voice.
“All right, let’s take her to ones,” comes the directive, and the crew begins clipping her into the bigger wires of the rig, their movements precise and practiced.
“Tail slate,”
“Going to ones,”
“Let’s go hot on stunts,”
“Go ahead and sit back for me,” a voice instructs, and Kate complies, easing herself back into the wire system. She dangles over the edge of the high drop, her pulse quickening but her expression calm.
“Stunts is hot,”
“Take up slack,” someone calls, and Kate loosens her grip on the rope just enough to release some tension before tightening it again, every movement measured.
“How we doing up there, stunt?” a voice checks in, the tension palpable.
“Great. She’s great. Here we go,” comes the response, confident and steady.
“Position down,”
“She’s at ones,”
“Ready to drop the line for me?”
Kate drops the anchor rope, flashing her signature Kate Bishop: Stuntwoman ‘thumbs up’.
“And three, two, one,” the director’s voice counts down, each number a beat closer to action. “Action, action, action, action, action!”
Kate releases from the rig, her body falling backwards, plummeting from four stories up, the air rushing past her.
Then she hears a snap.
A split-second realization hits before everything fades to black.
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When Kate comes to, the first thing she registers is a woman’s scream, sharp and piercing, cutting through the fog in her mind.
“Call the medic! Medic!” a muffled male voice shouts, the urgency clear even through the haze.
Kate realizes she’s on a stretcher, an oxygen mask strapped over her face. Everything feels distant—she’s aware of the noises around her but can’t quite process them. Her body is numb, disconnected, as if it’s not entirely hers.
Then, through the blur, Yelena’s face comes into view, her eyes wide with fear, her voice trembling as she calls out, “Kate, are you okay?!”
Kate’s heart clenches at the sound—she’s never heard Yelena sound like this before, so raw and scared. Summoning every ounce of strength she has, Kate tries to give her signature Kate Bishop: Stuntwoman ‘thumbs up.’ At least, she hopes she is. The motion is faint, her arm feeling heavy and uncooperative, but she wills it to move.
Yelena’s expression wavers between hope and fear as Kate is loaded into the nearby ambulance. The doors close with a slam, and the sirens wail to life as the vehicle speeds off to the hospital, carrying her away into the night, her fate uncertain.