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-“You need to improve that.” Kate froze, slowly releasing the string of her bow so she could pivot toward the newcomer.
-“And since when is archery one of your strengths?” The brunette approached the controls with a smile, where her friend was waiting. “I hope you at least brought me something to eat” the archer complained, activating a lever that stopped the moving targets, making them stationary.
-“Of course” the blonde said, placing a piece of brioche spread with jam in her hands with a paper towel.
-“You’re the best!” Kate gulped down her snack, letting out a satisfied sigh. She had been training since dawn and had only been allowed hot chocolate and a piece of cheese that had been lurking at the back of the fridge.
Yelena was literally her savior.
-“Actually, I was talking about your uniform.”
Her blue eyes settled on her superhero costume, now covered in crumbs. What was the problem? She had everything she needed for a mission, except for the quiver on her leg, but she only used that for training or long-range operations.
-“All your weaponry is visible, easy to identify, easy to rip off, just like your hair, by the way. The worst part is the lack of pouches, the lack of variety and protection.”
-“Is that why you cut your hair?” the archer asks, reaching out to touch the Widow’s hair, but the latter recoils.
-“Yes and no” she replies, running her hands through her hair, which will soon need another bleaching. “I wanted to try something new.”
Kate understands her friend's desire to try it, after wasting so many years following orders, right down to her hairstyle and clothes.
-"You made an excellent choice, it makes you look super cool," the younger girl stopped, realizing the unspoken implications of her words. "I mean, not that you weren't cool before, you always were. Wait, shouldn't I say you looked really cool when you were trying to kill Clint?” trying to kill Clint?"
This response made Yelena laugh, and she brushed a stray strand of hair away from her eyes.
-"Indeed, don't say it in front of him," she said. Although she laughed, the compliment reassured her in her decision. Bucky had explained that now that she was free, she would try many small, seemingly futile things, that she would inevitably make mistakes, but that this was the normal path to finding herself. "You deserve a better uniform. Your abilities aren't limited to the bow, Kate Bishop." She said, returning to the main subject.
-“I’m just the new Hawkeye, not a super spy,” the brunette laughed awkwardly, untying her hair and tying it into a messy bun. “But I’ll keep the advice in mind.”
Yelena didn’t press the matter, even though she was sure Kate wasn’t using her full potential.
She stifled a sigh when Kate unhooked the quiver from her leg. The uniform was enough to worry any average fighter, but when the archer smiled at her as she removed her chest guard, any criticism or remark was forgotten.
-“You came to interrupt my training just over some equipment issue?” the younger girl asked, dropping her gloves and arm guard into the table along with the rest of her gear. “Not that I don’t like it, but you never come to see me without a good reason.”
-“Me who coming with the best intentions, just to admire the pretty face of one of my best friends and bring her a well-deserved snack after all that effort?” the blonde mocked in a high-pitched voice, her hand ostentatiously placed on her chest. “I’m so humiliated that you could think such a thing about me.” Yelena, arms folded, leaned back against the table, smiling, amused by the other woman’s embarrassed reaction. “I have something for you” the widow announced, regaining her composure.
Kate watched curiously as she bent down to open one of the pockets of her tactical pants. The spy pulled out a sticks the size of her forearm. The archer didn't have time to wonder how she'd managed to get here with that in her pants before the weapon was thrust at her.
-"It's a modular combat stick. I have a new pair, so I don't need it anymore."
-"And you thought of me?”
Yelena dismisses the question with a wave of her hand, as if the answer isn't even worth asking.
-"Who else would want this from me?"
Kate accepts it anyway, even though she doesn't like the answer. She turns the weapon in her hands; it will come in handy. She's skilled in swordsmanship, has a background in Budō and Kendō. Yelena knows this, and after she said she wasn't just an archer, it was clear that this was a deliberate choice to offer it to her.
Although Yelena would never tell her.
She put combat stick in her back quiver, which was lying on the ground with the arrows she hadn't used.
-"Thanks, Yelena, I really appreciate it. I have to go to the locker room to change. Will you wait for me?"
The blonde nodded. She wouldn't admit it either, but for Kate, she could wait, five minutes until she came out of the locker room or a eternity then Kate realized she liked her.
[...]
-“Damn,” Kate muttered, tilting her head back as far as it would go to glance at her empty quiver.
She turned her head again, her eyes falling directly on the men running straight toward her.
They were supposed to infiltrate discreetly, avoid being spotted, retrieve the name of their supplier.
And leave.
-“Fuck.”
She knows her abilities, she knows how to fight, she knows various martial arts, but she knows that against five men she won't last long, especially unarmed.
She turns around, abandoning her bow and running as fast as she can as laughter comes from her earpiece.
-“Come help me instead of laughing.”
-“No sooner said than done,” the boy replied.
The next second, her feet were off the ground. She clenched her jaw; this was definitely not what she'd expected when she asked for help. But it wasn't surprising coming from Spider-Man. There's a reason he's not always popular with the general public…or even with superheroes.
The only silver lining in this situation was that Peter had managed to retrieve the information the new Avengers needed to finalize their missions in China before things got out of hand.
-“So, what score would you give this rescue?” he asked, pulling another web from his other hand.
-“If we don’t get down quickly, your score is going to be negative.”
This was far from a time for jokes. Besides having almost failed the mission, the news was bad: Hydra was corresponding with Sasha Hammer, a direct competitor of Stark Industries in terms of technology. The only thing that differentiated them was their clientele. The new Avengers were tasked with going to China to intercept a weapon called “Project Iron,” and they did it, except they managed to obtain additional information.
Kate clearly hadn't asked how.
Now, she had to hope that none of those idiots would connect the dots between them and the interception of their super-suits on the other side of the world, and that they wouldn't warn Sasha, because that would put the Avengers in a very delicate situation.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Peter chuckled, but made sure to quickly drop them both off in a quiet spot, far enough away from the men who were following them.
Kate sighed, glancing around and above them nonetheless.
Sending two bumbling ranged attack specialists on a mission involving stealth and infiltration, and this is what you get.
Realizing she'd lost her bow and arrows, Kate sighed again. It was lucky SHIELD appreciated her skills, because those expense reports might be grounds for letting her go at a regular company.
-“I often run out of web,” Peter admits, wanting to help his friend feel better, but she says nothing, simply rolling up the sleeves of her suit. “That’s why Tony added the legs and other features,” he explains.
-“We should head back. I have to give Sam a report on the mission, and with all the mess this has caused, it’s going to take forever.” She analyzes the situation for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to get back to Avengers Tower. “Send the address to Riri, have her come pick us up.”
-"With car or with the—"
-"With car, we've drawn enough attention to ourselves."
Their conversation was almost nonexistent after that. Kate silently thanked her friend for being able to analyze situations and for knowing when to keep quiet. The car ride was relaxing; Peter had taken the passenger seat, leaving the back seat for the archer.
They neither of them realized it, this mission had exposed numerous shortcomings on her part.
She had to change that; she couldn't afford to put a member of her team in danger.
Or the new Avengers.
She needed to call Yelena.
Check that everything is well for them, for her.
[...]
Kate bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood, her eyes fixed on the blonde woman's soft, skillful hands as she slowly pierced her skin with a lighter-sterilized needle. And even though she wasn't a doctor, she was certain that the dental floss Yelena was using was anything but conventional for closing the open wound on her right arm.
-“It’s just for wait the time of get back,” the assassin reassured her, as if she heard all of the brunette’s doubts. “It’s not the first time I’ve done this,” Yelena said, really trying to be reassuring. It was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission; a source had spotted a green and yellow Hawkeye, who, according to America, is known to be a Hydra agent from Earth-12131. They were supposed to gather evidence to determine if it was within their jurisdiction or not.
But things quickly turned disastrous. The man who turned out to be Bowman, from another Earth, knew her.
Worse, apparently, she was a member of the new Avengers, after Ronin, aka Clint Barton, passed the costume on to her and as if that weren't enough, according to him, she was responsible for his situation.
How could she have possibly sent that man to a parallel world? It made no sense.
She was terribly injured; she could still feel the arrow piercing her shoulder, and the man's laughter still echoed in her mind: "You're so weak here."
It was Yelena who took over after that, throwing a knife directly into his left side before lunging at him.
Kate remembers the look of amusement and excitement in his eyes when he aimed one of those arrows at Yelena—the only one chosen for which the archer excels over her partner: speed. She didn't hesitate; she ran, her hand maintain holding her left arm, and bumped into Yelena with her undamaged shoulder, taking a second arrow, which this time, landed perfectly without exit.
Bowman dared to laugh.
-“Don’t think you’re a hero. If I’d wanted to touch her, she’d be dead.”
He didn’t even know who he was dealing with.
Yet, he was confident.
-“I’ve killed Widows before. You won’t be the first, nor the last.”
Only the arrival of Doctor Strange prevented this mission from turning into a disaster.
Now, Kate had to thank America for not heeding her order.
-"You should rest, we have a long drive tomorrow." Kate pursed her lips in a thin line, nodding her head, her eyes fixed on the bandage covering half her arm. She didn't dare glance at her companion, certain she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears if she saw even the slightest hint of pity or amusement in her.
Yelena got up from the narrow hotel bed, her eyes never leaving the other woman. She had never seen the brunette's usually smiling and expressive face so closed off. "Kate Bishop, lie down and sleep." The widow wasn't even sure she'd been heard. She waited a moment, then finally tried again to get her friend's attention.
-"Kate” to anyone else, it would have seemed like the most pointless attempt ever, but this wasn't just anyone; it was Yelena.
And they both knew it.
She raised her head, her eyes watering, her teeth digging into her lower lip. “I could have gotten us killed.”
Normally, the assassin would have laughed in her face and explained that such a idiot would never be capable of something like that, but she didn't even consider that response for a second. She might not have been the best at understanding emotions and social norms, but she knew Kate didn't need sarcasm right now.
-“Why do you think that?”
-“You are kidding me?”
Yelena genuinely hated where this conversation seemed to be going, yet she didn’t flinch, or at least she did her best not to show how much this situation affected her.
-“I’m trying to understand you.” In reality, it was more than that. She wanted to be able to enter young Hawkeye’s mind, to take away all her doubts, her fears, her sorrows. In her eyes, Kate Bishop was too sweet, selfless, smiling, and fun; she was too much of a good person to deserve any negative feelings. “I want to understand you.” Yelena paused, placing her hand on the brunette’s. “Please.”
It takes Kate a moment to open her mouth and speak, so absorbed is she by Yelena's sincerity and attention.
-"You know that perfectly well, he said it, they both said it."
-"No, Barton told you that you still have a long way to go. You're talented, I assure you, but you can do better, I'm certain of it." She refrains from telling her that she's exceptional, that no Kate from any world can measure up to her, that she would choose her from anyone to be her partner on every mission, every time. "And the one from Earth-12131 is an agent of Hydra, he's a killer, a criminal, don't you dare believe what he says.”
It was sincere, Kate could hear it, but she was angry, at herself, at her choices, and Yelena had the misfortune of being the one present, and she knew it wasn't right, it was cruel, when the words came out of her mouth, yet she doesn't even try to hold them back.
-"Then why should I believe you? You're a criminal too.”
Besides being cruel, it was easy, it was so low of her. After that, she really thought the Widow would have left her alone, but she didn't. Only the soft touch against her hand disappeared. Kate could see her jaw tighten, her muscles tense.
Yelena took it, and stayed.
-"I've lied, all my life. My own life was a lie, but one thing is for sure: you, Kate Bishop, are not. Never, never have I pretended with you. Every word, every gesture, is who I am, or at least, who I'm learning to be.”
-“I’m sorry,” Kate apologized, tears finally flowing. She had certainly had the worst day of her life, and she had to try to hurt the person who mattered most to her just to escape these feelings. “I was scared,” the archer finally admitted. “If America had listened to me, I—” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, feeling deeply guilty. “I felt so helpless, useless, and…responsible.”
-“Responsible for idiocy, yes,” Yelena tries, aiming for humor, but although it helps to lighten the mood, Kate needs more than one joke: “We all make mistakes, that’s how we learn, but” glancing at the brunette’s sling-like arm, she finishes, “I hate sacrifices, remember that, Kate Bishop.”
Kate nods, wiping away tears with her bandaged arm, before finally laughing softly.
-“That’s so ridiculous.”
-“What?”
-“We, in that hotel room, after we were almost killed, Stephen could have brought us back.”
Yelena shook her head gently. Being dragged into Avengers Tower had taught her a few things, including the fact that Stephen Strange was an absolute jerk, and more responsible for her sister’s death than Clint was.
-“No, I don’t trust that man.” The blonde woman sat down on the edge of the bed without thinking. Kate moved over to allow the other woman to lie down if she wanted, which she obviously didn’t do. “And you needed some peace and quiet; it’s good we’re here.”
-“Mmm,” Kate agreed, fatigue beginning to set in, the pain and anger subsiding.
-“And I like this hotel, the atmosphere brings back good memories.”
-“That’s not what most people would say.”
That was true, but those memories were with Natasha, so even if they were memories of seedy hotels or abandoned bars, it was enough. Anyway, she didn’t have a choice; it was all she had left. But it wasn’t a topic she was going to bring up with Kate tonight.
-“I’m not most people,’” Yelena replied simply.
-“Lie down,” the girl hurt say at her friend who's about to protest, so she insists, with her “stupid, beaten-dog” look, as Yelena calls her “Please.”
And even though the blonde hates it, she does it. She raises her legs on the bed, still maintaining her semi-sitting position, but it seems enough for Kate, who approaches, rests her head against Yelena's shoulder, and closes her eyes.
The spy doesn't have many options available to her, but for once, she opted for what her heart wants to do. She slips her arm behind Kate's back, pulling her closer, applying gentle pressure against her ribs, hoping that Kate will understand that she will always be there, that she will never give up her, no matter what happens.
[...]
-“See” Kate murmured, seated at the hotel bar, playing with the contents of a glass she had ordered earlier. In response, her team repeated their rounds of “well receipt” which, in her opinion, was pointless, just like the effort they had expended. A good internet connection, a grappling hook, and a well-placed arrow, and she could have handled it herself.
The archer examined the liquid one last time, hesitant. She was on a mission; she couldn't afford to have alcohol in her system. She called out to a woman two chairs away: “Excuse me?”
-“Yes” the woman replied curtly, turning defensive, but when she saw Kate’s face she relaxed. The hero couldn’t say if it was because she was a woman or if her neighbor at the bar had recognized her—which would be a real problem—but the woman relaxed and smiled. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
-"Oh, actually, I want to offer you my drink. I didn't touch it.”
-“If I’m going to have a second drink, it has to be with company,” she says, playing with a strand of blond hair, which she tucks behind her ear. “Just move one seat closer to me and I’ll accept that drink, and I’ll offer you one that suits you this time.”
Kate glances back at the man - Marcus Scarlotti-still patiently settled in one of the velvet armchairs in the lobby, The phone to his ear, to participate in a discussion that he did not like. She wasn’t in a hurry, but she couldn’t afford to shift her attention away from anything else, however pleasant the entertainment might be.
-“I was just about to leave,” the young woman apologized, getting up from her seat. “It’s nothing personal, I stopped drinking a month ago, but I had a rough day and came here out of habit.” Kate hated lying, especially when it elicited such genuine kindness and concern.
-“Then I’ll take you somewhere else. There’s a coffee ten minutes away; they also make amazing hot chocolate and…”
-“I’d be bad company, like I said, I’ve had a bad day,” the Avenger tried, her tone drier, to get the woman to leave her alone. She wanted to avoid wasting time, and now she was jeopardizing the mission. Luckily for her, Marcus was talking to the hostess, but it wasn’t going to last long.
-“I know how to be a good listener,” the blonde retorted with a smile, getting up and her closer. And honestly, Kate hated drawing parallels between this woman and Yelena, because aside from the color of their hair and eyes, there wasn’t much in common.
-“I need to be alone,” the archer replied, a little too aggressively this time. “I just wanted to avoid wasting, nothing more.”
-“There’s someone else, is there?”
Yes, there was that damn Marcus, who was on the loose.
-“Actually” Hawkeye replied vaguely, and she hated how relieved the stranger seemed, certainly not to be the problem, and frankly, Kamala’s laughter in her earpiece wasn’t helping. “I’m sorry,” but Kate was almost certain she detected a distinct pity beneath that smile and the gentle, almost understanding look she was receiving.
-“Kate is so desperate,” Peter mocks, and she struggles to hide it, even when she hears America defend her in the worst possible way: “Seriously, have you seen what Yelena looks like? If you weren’t obsessed with MJ, you’d be in the same state.”
-“I wish you good luck” she says. What’s nice is that she seems genuinely honest, yet she rummages in her bag and pulls out a business card: “If this person out to be blind to what they’re missing, feel free to message me.” And she leaves, without even asking her name.
-“While we’re getting bruised on missions, she’s winning numbers” Cassie joked. They’d all really decided to make fun of her. The worst part was, she couldn’t even fight back, and her team knew it.
Kate quickly turned away, having almost forgotten about her mission. The problem with having ADHD, no doubt. From a distance, she saw Marcus get into the elevator. Without hesitation, she ran after him, blocking with her foot just before the doors closed.
-“Sorry” she apologizes, slipping inside as the doors open again. “I’m already running super late; I should be grateful to my boss if I don’t get fired at the end of the day.” The brunette tilts her head back, pretending to catch her breath, taking the opportunity to note the number the man pressed: 8.
-“Which floor are you going up to?” he asks, sounding bored.
-“Oh yeah,” she straightens up quickly. “Sorry, number 9, right above yours,” she says enthusiastically, a little too loudly. “I really like your jacket,” Kate ventures as the elevator reaches the third floor.
-“I like silence,” Marcus replied without even bothering to look at her. He stood straight, arms crossed, his head shaved and sporting several days' growth of beard. He was unrecognizable compared to the photos taken when he entered prison.
-“Okay, that's really rude.” Kate feigned offense, staring down at the marbled elevator floor for a flight. Obviously, she wasn't really offended; she was just trying to cover up the fact that she'd told her team Marcus's floor. This whole talkative, clumsy girl thing was a good way to convey a surprisingly large amount of information without anyone raising a single doubt. “Smiling won't kill you, I swear!”
-“I’m not paying a thousand dollars a night in a hotel to have some hyperactive kid bother me.” He raises his voice impatiently. Yes, Kate knows, he pays so much to have peace and quiet, to be protected from all the nosy little kids.
-“Asshole,” the Avenger mutters, because he was one, not just because he’s a fugitive or a former Hydra agent, but simply because he is.
For the first time, he turns around, observing the young girl, clearly ready to insult her, perhaps even try to hit her, to silence her.
But he refrains. The door opens, and he turns to leave without another word.
Before the doors closed, she spotted Cassie pushing a cart overflowing with towels, an access card around her neck. Apparently, it was clear the girls had managed to infiltrate the staff.
That was perfect.
The elevator stopped on the next floor, opening onto a deserted hallway. She waited for the doors to close before heading up to the roof, where she was to meet Peter, retrieve her equipment, and then climb the rope to the window of the room Cassie was to indicate them.
-“Get out of here.” That’s all Cassie says before a crackling sound reaches the ears of the rest of the team. The archer can hear Peter calling their friend’s name, Kamala’s breathing becoming too heavy, and America undoubtedly muttering curses.
It was bad, very bad.
Kate doesn’t hesitate to press the button to reopen the doors and descend the stairs to the floor separating her from her friend, even if it means facing danger without her bow. Luckily, she had an ace up her sleeve, literally.
-“I’ll handle it. Spiderman does what's necessary. America, go see Ms. Marvel, and then meet up with Spiderman.”
Arriving on the 8th floor, Cassie was lying on the floor, clearly unconscious. The man next to her seemed to be waiting, ready to pounce like a raging rhinoceros.
-"They sent kids to arrest me" Marcus remarked, a mixture of anger and amusement evident in his voice. "I suspected something when I saw you at the bar, but the elevator only confirmed my suspicions…and that girl, so unsubtle…"
Now, It was truly insulting.
-“Do you really think Captain America or Ant-Man would go out of their way, for you? ” she asked, she too, know be unpleasant and belittling. “You’re just a little training exercise for our new recruits.” Kate watched him with a smirk. It wasn’t genuine or funny, but she wanted to get a reaction out of him, to make him leave Cassie alone.
-“Our new recruits,” America repeated, amused. “Since when did you get promoted?”
-“She’s not wrong, she’s the one who came to get us with Sam” Kamala replied.
Having teammates was nice, but so much chatter when she needed to concentrate was less than ideal. She either had to teach them that conversations and jokes were only for when everyone was safe or request closed-circuit earpieces.
-“Apparently, that was a failure,” the man exclaimed, striking Cassie’s unconscious body in the ribs as if to prove his point. “Now it’s your turn, Hawkeye.”
He approached slowly, pulling a knife blade from under his t-shirt, suspended by a rope.
-“Hey! Did you hear that? First time anyone’s ever called you Hawkeye!” Kamala exclaimed, happy for her friend, who was always called kid, imitator, mini Hawkeye, and the list went on and on.
Kate didn't need to see anything more to pull out the fighting sticks Yelena had given her a few weeks earlier. She inwardly congratulated herself for having thought to bring them, though she wasn't convinced they would be enough against the blade whirling through the air. But It was still better than nothing.
It quickly proved to be more than enough when, involuntarily, she realized she could send out electric pulses like a taser.
It was good; her actions weren't perfect, but enough to keep the escapee occupied while her accomplices installed spyware and tracking devices on his belongings and Cassie regained consciousness to slip away.
-"I'm finish!" Spiderman shouted a little too loudly.
She pressed the elevator button, kicking Marcus hard in the stomach to move him as far away as possible.
-“You haven’t forgotten something? ” America’s voice called out.
Marcus’s weapon began to whirl rapidly around him, like a boleadora.
-“America and I had finished” he corrected himself, his enthusiasm waning. “Do you need us to intervene?”
The elevator door clicked, the doors opened, and the archer caught a glimpse of the man’s gaze, briefly focused on the movement behind her, certainly realizing that he had lost this battle.
-“You’re not getting away with this that easily.”
As he slammed the blade in her direction, she threw herself to the floor of the elevator. The sound of shattering glass drowned out America’s scream as she called his name. The doors slammed shut behind her, giving her barely a moment to press one of the top buttons.
She gets up slowly, careful not to cut herself on the shattered glass. Despite being an Avenger, at least somewhat experienced, she takes a deep breath before looking up at the cracked mirror. Obviously, there's a gash across her cheek; the archer wipes her face, staining the white shirt she's wearing.
-"Hawkeye, are you okay?"
-"Hawkeye??"
-"Damn, Kate!?"
-"Kate, answer me, stop your bullshits.”
-“I’m fine, I’m coming,” their “captain” replied, her eyes fixed on her distorted reflection, and more specifically on the missing strand of hair.
She’s going to have to get bangs.
Damn.
[...]
The dull thud of his back hitting the floor made Sam wince as he sat on the bench, a towel wrapped around his neck after his workout.
Without a sound, the brunette straightened up; he could see her arms trembling from the repeated impacts.
Bucky glanced at the complex's manager as if to ask if he really should continue. But the man didn't seem to have any opinion.
-“Bucky, I’m here,” Kate calls, already in position, ready to take the next blow. “Keep going, I need to learn how to take a hit.” He wants to say no, to tell her he’s not there to replicate the techniques of the Red Room, but the archer has a determination, a courage, and a stubbornness that no one can truly overcome.
So he starts again.
Sam takes the opportunity to leave the room; he didn’t need to witness Kate’s obsessive relentlessness.
But at least he knew: Hawkeye wouldn't leave the Avengers compound until she stopped "training" like that, and especially not until the effects of this session wore off.
-"We should stop," the man suggested, considering the door had remained closed long enough to ensure Captain America was far enough away. "It's not going to help you.”
He watched Kate straighten up yet again, more slowly this time, her muscles tensing, her jaw clenching. He knew she was suffering, yet her gaze didn't waver. She persisted: "You think that I can't take more? "
-"I think it's pointless," the former soldier replied sincerely, but it was more than that. He didn't want to continue hurting that idiotic archer. "Find someone else.”
He walked away without waiting for a reply; he didn't want to argue, he needed to talk to Sam to figure out what to do.
-"I gave in," the brunette began, her voice trailing behind the arm wrestler. He paused, curious to hear the rest. "Last week, when Madame Masque captured me." Bucky turned to face the young woman again, the archer's usual determination and courage shattering. "I've been tied up and beaten before, but this was nothing like it.”
-“Kate, we all know what happened. Madame Masque is working with The Hood. He’s known to be a torturer. Everyone who resisted him is dead. You did the right thing.”
-“You managed to stop them, but what if they had? It would all have been MY fault.”
The older man observed that Kate had a genuine desire to save, especially when it came to people she truly cared about, even if it meant giving her life. But in his eyes, she was just a kid with a big heart; none of the Young Avengers should risk their lives. The Thunderbolts, or the New Avengers as most preferred to call them, could.
-“No” Bucky replied firmly. “You did the right thing giving her the address of the complex; we couldn’t locate you.” Before adding anything else, he checked that the room was indeed empty; many people in that place could enter without being noticed. “Yelena wouldn’t have been able to bear not hearing from you any longer.”
Kate looked away uncomfortably; it was Yelena who had been most injured in the attack. Luckily, it had all happened in the middle of a weekday afternoon, so none of the young Avengers were present, as they wouldn't have known how to explain it to their parents or guardians.
-"Everyone's fine, Kate. Madame Masque and Hood were incarcerated in one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s prisons." He was about to leave for good, but he took the time to add, "The Thunderbolts aren't exactly role models, and the Avengers Compound isn't a super-soldier factory. Don't count on me to perpetuate barbaric training, or on any of us." This time he turned away for good. He didn't seem surprised when he saw Yelena leaning against the doorframe, her left arm in a sling.
She approaches, clearing the exit for the man, a barely perceptible limp indicating that his leg is still sore.
-"Listen this old sage, Kate Bishop," the blonde jokes as she walks over to the archer, prompting an eye roll and a stifled laugh from the man as he leaves the room. "We'll put some cream on to reduce the bruising, and then we'll have a real training session, not something like your nonsense."
-"What?”
-“Making pancakes, you still can’t catch them properly in mid-air.” The response makes Kate laugh, shaking her head in near exasperation, but relief and amusement are what truly shine through on her face.
-“How did you know I was here?”
-“Sam came to see me, he just said, ‘You should go see Kate.’ You weren’t in your room or the common room, it was pretty obvious you were practicing, but I admit I went to the shooting range first.”
Kate nodded. Although she had asked the question, the answer didn't really matter to her; seeing Yelena always pleased her, perhaps even a little too much.
-"You can improve many things: your knowledge, your practice, your equipment, your endurance, but not your stamina, okay?"
The brunette nodded silently, the adrenaline gradually subsiding, allowing the aches and pains to surface in every fiber of her being.
-“The bangs suit you well” Yelena remarked, approaching to brush the young woman’s sweat-damp hair from her forehead. “But first things first, you need a shower.”
-“Thank you,” replied the brunette, grateful for the effort she had made earlier; the flush from the exertion masked her nervousness.
It's true that when she returned from her little mission of "finding Marcus's room, putting spyware on his phone and trackers in his things," Yelena had gone to Ukraine with her father, no one was willing to give her any more information, but when one of the president's close protection men was found murdered and the president himself finally accepted the peace agreement, the reason was rather obvious.
In the meantime, they had barely crossed paths. While the widow recovered physically and mentally, and while she explained herself to SHIELD and the government regarding the man's death, Kate was foolishly kidnapped by Madame Masque and upon her return she spent several days in the infirmary sleeping and nursing her numerous bruises. She hadn't really seen or spoken to Yelena for a good month.
-“I missed you,” Kate blurted out sincerely. She wasn’t expecting a long declaration, quite the opposite, so when Yelena responded in kind, she couldn’t hide the surprise on her face.
-“Surprisingly, the silence of the past few weeks wasn’t enjoyable at all.” Yelena clapped her hands, smiling and full of energy. “Come on, Kate Bishop! Let’s get out of here, you have a busy day!”
Kate watched the blonde for a few seconds before bursting into laughter: “Okay, ok, I’ll run.”
She ran off as promised, but after barely a few steps, muttering small groans of pain and cursing, she decided to walk.
Maybe Yelena was right.
From the beginning.
[...]
-“KATE BISHOP!” Yelena shouts from the end of the hall. “We don’t have all day.”
A few half-hearted “yeses” are repeated from the other side of the room, followed by several thuds-something must have hit the floor - and a loud “fuck.”
The blonde allows herself a smile, leaning against the wall in the hall, patiently waiting for the archer to come out of her room.
When she does, the Widow's smile widens.
-"You've added some protections" the blonde remarks, making the brunette smile triumphantly.
-"I've also added pockets." To prove her point, she pulls on a zipper at her chest, revealing a lockpicking kit. "You'll never guess everything I've added.”
-“Actually, I can guess, but I’d prefer you to show me and explain everything.”
Kate puts her small box in her pocket and turns briskly to show her back to the spy.
-“You added a side compartment to your quiver for the baton I gave you” Yelena surmises. Her friend turns with a cheerful smile, nodding in confirmation.
-“And look—”
-“Kate Bishop, you’re going to have to slow down a bit,” the other woman laughed, placing her hand on the brunette’s arm to gently stop her mid-sentence. “The others are waiting for us in the helicopter. You’ll show me everything when the time comes.”
-“Of course,” the archer agreed. “Damn,” she looked at Yelena, her eyes slightly wide. “I have to go get my bow from the training room.”
-“Hell, Kate, quickly!”
-“Sorry,” the brunette said, running off and leaving the widow alone, arms folded in the middle of the corridor, eyes fixed on the disappearing figure, a smile frozen on her lips. Not mocking, sarcastic, or amusing like most of the time, but gentle, happy, and caring.
Kate makes her strangely happy.
A problem she'll deal with later.
For now, she had to lead a team of idiots to save a city from an alien attack.
Just another Monday,
With one exception.
(Kate [finally] a real costume)