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John Walker is a very private person. He will pretend otherwise, act like he is a complete open book but then one day months into living, working, and generally spending a lot more time with the man then you ever thought you would you'll realize that you actually know nothing of substance about him.
Yelena knows that his son has a favorite blanket, but not his son's name. She knows his life went downhill after the death of his best friend, but has no idea how the two even met. Knows that Bucky and him fought before, but didn't know that Bucky had apparently broken his arm until a tension filled training session went awry. Any detail about his life has to either be earned, stealthily noticed, or pulled from him like teeth.
There's been progress though. Slow painful progress that is felt by every person in the tower, and not just from John but from everyone in the tower and their collective mountains of issues. Yelena internally equates it to helping a reactive dog, you have to wait for them to come to you and John has been in his own way.
Of course, Valentina ruins it.
The women has no sense of privacy, especially when it comes to them. Val has no problem using literally anything and everything she can get her hands on against them. It's a power thing or a control thing, Yelena isn't sure which. Messy details none of them want to think about, let alone have the others know, are pulled from files and left on the mission room table; bloody and still squirming. No matter how much they tell her to quit it or threaten.
Yelena really thinks she should have seen this coming, but she is still somewhat unfamiliar with American holidays. So, when Valentina sits them down for another stupid PR meeting she thinks it's going to be just that. A stupid PR meeting.
She takes the position she normally takes these meetings, boots up on the table leaned back with a pen swirling between her fingers, a purposeful disrespect. Bucky sits next to her, rolling his eyes but his leg bounces under the table luck alone keeping the entire thing from shaking with the movement. Or maybe not luck but actually Alexei who seems to lean and put his entire upper body on the table, his eagerness must balance out her boredom. Ava's only half listening, and it's obvious because her eyes are closed and her face is pointed up like she's going to fall asleep mid discussion. John as always is sitting straight up, elbows on the arms of his chair and hands in his face, she thinks his leg would be bouncing too if he would allow himself that. Bob didn't even show up, which puts a smile on her face every time Valentina notices he's missing and looks disappointed.
There's a lot of prattling on about things she doesn't care to understand before Valentina seems to get to the actual point of the meeting.
"Now for the next thing I just need you two." She says with that politician smile, getting Yelena's attention by switching her pointing finger between her and John. Yelena raises an eyebrow and she can feel Bucky's leg stop bouncing. He's seeing something coming, but what?
"Memorial Day is coming up and I have come up with a great plan for the two of you to help us gain some sympathy points."
Yelena's gut drops out from under her. She doesn't remember the holiday off the top of her head, but she's got a pretty good idea what it's about. What's about to be asked from her.
She doesn't get how John is involved, not yet. But he seems to have put it together, straightening up further and his hands falling to his side before freezing in place. Like Valentina won't see him if he stays perfectly still.
"I mean obviously we will be putting out a statement for more then just this, but we cannot pass up the opportunity to honor the heroes of the nation." Her hands are swinging between the two of them, Yelena once heard that if you tied an Italian person's hands together they'd have to stop talking and she's wondering if it's worth a shot right now.
"Yelena you'll of course be talking about your sister, the big hero. John you'll be talking about your brother, not Lemar your real brother, the small hero. It works perfectly. Both felled in battle fighting to save people and all. A good way to honor them both for the holiday if you ask me."
The rest of the room seems to freeze in place at her words. The shock at how easily and without mercy Valentina can just reveal something about one of their teammates never gets easier to deal with. The entire room is suddenly filled with unasked questions. John had a brother? John had a brother who died in a battle?
"No." It's firm, John's statement. It should leave no room for argument.
The tension in his body hasn't left at all, in fact he's somehow gotten even tenser. His hands are fists and he looks about ready to pop a blood vessel. Yelena can't help but stare, but he only has eyes for Val.
"Oh come on now Walker. Is it because it's him and not Lemar? We can make it about Lemar if you want it's just we already have the adoptive siblings angle and the blood siblings one would also be nice to have. You know-" She's treating their pasts like she can pick and choose what's marketable, like she always does and always will. As if these aren't things they will have feelings about themselves.
John doesn't let her finish her sentence. He stands up so quickly that the chair he was sitting it falls to the floor with a muffled bang.
"I said no Val. I'm not doing this and you can't make me." Which seems to be his final words on the matter, turning without looking at any of them for the door. Slamming it without thinking behind him.
The meeting doesn't continue much longer after that.
Yelena doesn't agree to do it either. She hates the idea of her relationship with Natasha being treated like an angle. She tells Val to shove her idea somewhere none of them have to see it.
She wishes John could've seen the way everyone agreed.
Yelena decides to give him time before trying to talk about it. One because John likes having space when something gets him rattled, and two because she actually isn't sure where she would find him at this point.
He does a few things when he's stressed; rereads that engineering textbook he likes so much, cooking, light exercise. But when he gets rattled like this he really does one thing, which is starts running through the streets of New York until he's an entire other burrow away and then eventually makes his way back. He could be anywhere by now.
She really doesn't see him again until late that night, or she guesses early the next morning.
It had been a long day of compassionate looks from other people and waiting to see if John was going to return to the tower, but normal. Their normal. There shouldn't have been a reason that she finds herself unable to sleep. Splayed out across her sheets and staring at the ceiling. Even her fluffy friends are asleep in their enclosure on the other side of the room. No little squeaks coming from their direction. Eventually she just decides to give up. Her mind is moving far too fast, and she can't do anything about it.
It's when she walks out into their shared common space that she finds him. He's sitting on the couch, and it looks like he's been there for a while. When she gets closer she can see he's still wearing the same clothes he was at their meeting. Has he been running the entire day?
John's just staring at the wall, not as tense as he was towards the end of the meeting but with weight still on his shoulders. She decides to just sit next to him, the only reasons she knows he knows she's there is the slightest glance her direction.
They sit like that for a few moments that feel like hours before she finds her voice.
"I also said no. She didn't seem happy about it but she also didn't fight it either."
Part of him seems to collapse with her words, folding in on himself he looks up at her. It's an angle she's not used to seeing him from.
"You didn't have to do that." His voice is croaking a little as he speaks.
"I know. I didn't like the idea of using Natasha's memory for that either. I don't know what," She stops. It's only for a second but it's noticeable.
"Michael." He fills in, and her eyes widen slightly as he does so.
"Michael, was like but I don't think he would like his memory being used for this either."
John sighs, a full body one that makes her breathe in and out with him afterwards.
"That's one way to put it yeah."
The room they're sitting in is dark, neither of them had turned the lights on. Maybe that's for the best. It makes it so the only thing they can really see is each other.
"Mike and I," He starts, "we weren't like you at Natasha."
She raises an eyebrow at him, wondering what that's supposed to mean. In response he rolls his eyes.
"We weren't close. Honestly I barely even remember him." He explains.
"Valentina said he died in battle?" She decides to push.
There's a huff under his breath at that. "She said he died a hero too. I think her information was mistaken."
He straightens up again, looking at the wall. "His memory shouldn't be tied with this, but it also shouldn't be tied to Natasha's. Mike didn't die a hero."
His voice cracks a little, she wonders suddenly if he's ever talked about this before. "Mike died young, violent and cause he wanted to. Only reason he was were he was is cause he wanted to be dead. Mikey always got what he wanted."
Oh. The disdain makes much more sense now. It's a familiar feeling, what she sees in his eyes as he breaks a little in front of her. One she's had to face several times since the day Clint forced her to see the truth in Natasha's death.
Nat always got what she wanted too.
The silence after his admission is suffocating, she can't let it kill them both.
"Natasha didn't die in battle either. The news they like to pretend she did, that she was there in that last fight against that, thing. But she was dead before that."
John looks over at her with as much surprise as she must have been looking at him with.
"She sacrificed herself, for one of those gem things that they needed. Fought for the ability to do so even. Sometimes I think I am still angry at her for it. That she fought so hard to die."
She can feel herself tearing up, his hand fumbles through the pitch black they sit in to find hers. Holding it tightly as she speaks.
"I haven't told anyone this, not even Alexei. I kinda just let the public think that she died in the fight instead because it's easier then the truth y'know?"
"I know."
"It's not fair. It's not fair to either of us that they left."
Yelena can feel herself crying in earnest now, hot streams down her face. John doesn't even hesitate, shoving her face into his shoulder as she sobs. The ugly hole of grief in her chest having expanded so rapidly in the past few minutes. His head is resting on her shoulder, it isn't a comfortable configuration but neither of them can move from it. Her hand is is still in his, her other is gripping onto his shirt and his is threaded through her hair resting against her scalp. They're grasping at each other desperately, as if they push together close enough the holes where their siblings should be would be filled.
She can feel him crying too, both of their shirts getting wet spots on the shoulders.
It's several minutes later when they finally separate, eyes red and faces slightly puffy. When a few more tears fall from John's eyes his arm comes up to wipe them away harshly before he laughs a little to himself.
They're both breathing a little to quickly, but it's at the same time. Waiting together for their bodies to settle back into a natural rhythm.
When it feels like they're close to equilibrium, John is suddenly whispering to her.
"I'm sorry about Natasha."
She smiles, small and sad before replying.
"I'm sorry about Michael."
"They're both probably shaking their heads at us right now."
"Oh absolutely, so happy we didn't make stupid speeches about them but also disappointed in us for keeping that in for so long."
"God I can't even imagine what face he would've made if I agreed to that."
"Probably like yours when Ava talks about tea."
John cracks at that, a honest laugh that bursts from his chest. He looks surprised by it.
"Do you ever wonder how she would react to Alexei being, well Alexei?"
Yelena's cracking too then. "Only every day." She responds with her own laughter.
The silence is back but this time instead of killing them slowly, it's like a balm on the soul.
They don't speak for a while, just read each other's minds without actually being able to do so. Getting up and making cups of hot chocolate. Sitting on the kitchen floor with nothing but the light above the stove to illuminate them.
"We should start a club." She announces only to him.
"Dead siblings club." He responds sleepily.
"Yes!" She says excitedly, snapping her fingers as she points his direction. "Perfect. Dead Siblings Club."
"We'll need to invite Bucky I guess."
Yelena doesn't know how John knows about Bucky having a sibling, but that is a problem for later. Her head tilts as she looks his way with a small hum. "I suppose. That's something we can do in the morning."
"It is morning." He says, regardless of her shushing that it isn't despite it being 4 am.
It's Bucky who finds them when the sun finally comes up. Yelena's head on John's lap curled into a ball, his fingers in her hair and his head against the cabinet behind him. Mugs discarded empty next to them.
He just smiles before working around them to put the mug with the dirty dishes, shaking them awake to at least send them to the couch if not their beds. He's got breakfast handled.