Love Me Whole - Chapter 22 - ImAMarvelSimp (2025)

Chapter Text

03:24

Yelena hadn’t spoken a word to Kate during the entire journey back. Her gaze stayed fixed out the window, body language cold and unyielding. Kate had tried, her voice tentative as she murmured, “Lena.” But Yelena’s response was final; “Not here. Not now.”

Sonya, pragmatic as ever, had administered morphine through the blondes vein, and instructed Yelena to rest, though she didn’t seem to heed the advice.

Sonya explained that Kate had been held in an old SHIELD base, deep in the Catskills Mountains. Remote enough for Fisk and Valentina to operate undetected, yet close enough to New York for their dealings. The base doubled as a holding facility for the serum, and a makeshift prison.

It had taken the Widows three grueling days to map out a rescue. Yelena, desperate, had reached out to Clint; who pulled in Kamala. Yelena had reluctantly accepted the young Avenger’s help, knowing the Widows lacked the time and resources to breach a SHIELD facility alone. Kamala, with her access to archived files and blueprints, had proven instrumental.

Kate had listened silently to the explanation, the weight of her impulsive decision pressing heavier with every word. The icy tension from the other Widows on the helicopter was almost unbearable, a constant reminder of the price paid for her recklessness.

An hour later, they landed in Ohio, the Widows dispersing. Mercedes and Katya returned to Detroit, while Sonya, Yelena, and Kate headed for Yelena’s house—the Widows had scouted it in advance, knowing they would need to lie low until their next play.

Upon arrival , Sonya has quipped that she was popping to the twenty four hour shop, taking Yelena’s G-Wagon to grab some medical supplies. Kate suspects that the real reason is that the dark haired woman wants to give her and Yelena some space, which she is both grateful for, and wary of; quite sure that Sonya has some choice words for her upon returning.

In the absence of Katya, Yelena is reluctantly leaning on Kate. She’d made her distain very clear, tutting and rolling her eyes at the perceived injustice. It hurt Kate, she’d be lying if it said it didn’t, but she understands.

Balancing both Yelena and the keys, Kate manages to get them through the front door.

The contrast between the warmth of Yelena’s home, and the icy tension lingering between them makes Kate hesitate in the hallway. nevertheless she steels herself, pushing inwards and closing the door behind them; the click echoing louder than it should in the silence.

The weight of the past few days hangs over them like a storm cloud. Ohio, usually a sanctuary, feels too small, too quiet, with Yelena’s anger seeping into every corner. Kate moves with purpose tightening her hold on Yelena’s waist, supporting most of the blondes body weight as they stumble towards the kitchen.

“I can walk” Yelena shoves at Kate’s ribs, pushing her away, using every last ounce of willpower to stay upright. She makes her way slowly; like Bambi on ice, to the kitchen—towards the cupboards.

Kate breaks the silence first, her voice drifting through the room, “Lena—“

“No.” Yelena busies herself with finding a bottle of something strong, the blood on her body beginning to cake, muscles and ribs screaming in agony. “I do not wish to hear it.”

Kate had been expecting an argument, a fiery one charged with anger. But this..this is harder to navigate. Yelena is hurt, she’s closing herself off, refusing to talk.

“I’m sorry—I fucked up. Co-“

Yelena slams a shot glass down on the counter, fury burning behind her green eyes as she shakily pours herself a Vodka shot. “That is an understatement.” She winces, leaning on the counter, the sharp pull of her ribs nearly buckling her legs.

“What can I do— what can I say to make this better— I can’t—“

“Nothing Kate!” Yelena shouts, gripping the shot glass so hard her knuckles turn white, quickly gulping back the clear liquid and placing it back on the counter. “Nothing. I trusted you. Went against my judgement.” She pours another shot, “ Everyone but my sisters has betrayed me in this life. The sisters who you!” She points at Kate, with the glass. “endangered. Because you could not control yourself.” She necks the second shot.

Kate’s stomach churns as Yelena’s words hit her like a freight train. She’d acted on instinct, on fear, but now she isn’t sure if she’d made the right call—or if she’s lost Yelena in the process

“I was scared!” Kate raises her voice an octave, panic creeping into her tone. “Valentina was going to leave, we might not have got that chance again. I saw the opportunity and took it.” She gestures wildly with her arms. “We got Fisk didn’t we? We gained something

“At what cost.” Yelena narrows her eyes, gesturing towards her bloodied and beaten body, “ this. Is the result of improper planning. Impulsivity.

The fight drains from Kate’s body, not only is Yelena right, but she can see the way the widows face contorts with every movement. If the bags under the blondes eyes are anything to go by, Yelena hasn’t slept much better than her in her absence. “I get it-“

“Do you?!” Yelena grips the counter, adrenaline shot beginning to wear off. Exhaustion creeping into her body, fatigue. “Three days. Three days it took for us to get to you. Three days I had to sit with the knowledge that you might be dead. ” She swallows hard, throat throbbing; imprinted with Kingpin’s bruised finger marks, “I— I became someone I never wanted to become again”

Kate watches as Yelena’s shoulders sag, her grip on the counter loosening. Overexertion finally catching up to her, the morphine and the adrenaline that had fueled her fury fading fast. Kate instinctively steps closer, hesitating, unsure if Yelena will accept her help—or shove her away again

She takes a deep breath, “I’m going to touch you now. And you’re going to let me. Because even though you’re mad at me. I love you. And I can’t turn that off, especially not when you’re hurt.”

Yelena’s eyes, moments ago burning with fury, soften. “I am so mad at you” tears begin to gather, mouth turning dry, “Kate—“

Kate moves into Yelena’s space, arms circling under the widows armpits; pulling her into a gentle embrace. “I love you, and I am so sorry. I know—we still need to talk, but I haven’t slept for like.. a fucking eternity. Let me help you clean up at least?”

Yelena stiffens in Kate’s arms, her body rigid, as if the act of accepting comfort is a betrayal of her own anger. For a moment, Kate thinks she’ll pull away, the rejection already bracing in her chest. But then Yelena exhales, a sharp, shuddering breath, and her weight presses further into Kate’s arms.

“I am so tired,” Yelena whispers, her voice cracking, a sound so fragile it feels like it might break if Kate moves too quickly.

“I know” Kate whispers, she tugs at Yelena gently, “come”

Kate leads Yelena up the stairs and into the ensuite, her steps slow and careful as Yelena leans heavily into her. The blond is quiet now, her sharp edges dulled by exhaustion and pain.

This isn’t the cold-blooded assassin Valentina wanted Kate to believe Yelena is. This is the woman she loves—fragile, human, and heartbreakingly raw. Knowing she is the cause of this pain, magnifies her guilt tenfold.

——-

03:51

Kate guides Yelena into the bathroom, flicking on the warm, yellow-tinted light. The soft glow feels foreign against the harsh fluorescent memories of Fisk’s facility. Kate’s hand’s ghost Yelena’s hips as she steadies the blonde against the counter, her touch tentative, afraid of being rejected again.

Yelena braces herself against the cool marble, her head bowing as she exhales slowly. Her reflection stares back at her in the mirror—bloodied, bruised, but defiant. The sight makes her feel sick. She doesn’t recognize herself in this moment, not entirely. This is a person she’d left behind, buried after meeting Kate. An emotionless machine, driven by hatred and pain.

Kate hovers nearby, busying herself with turning on the shower. The hiss of water fills the silence, and steam begins to curl around them.

“What did they do to you?” Yelena stares pointedly at the taps, refusing to meet Kate’s gaze. Afraid that she’ll hear something she doesn’t want to, blame herself for something she couldn’t prevent.

Kate hesitates, her hand halting on the shower’s temperature dial, the question hanging in the humid air. She glances at Yelena in the mirror, seeing the turmoil etched in blondes features.

“Nothing permeant” Kate finally responds, voice quieter than she’d intended. “It was mostly.. mind games.” She grips the temperature knob, twisting. “Valentina, she—showed me things, told me shit—about you. Things she thought would break me, make me question everything about us, about you.” releasing her grip she turns to face Yelena. “Her plan. Was to get me to flip. Willingly. Lure you there. She called me.. a silver bullet.”

Yelena hums, “break you—break me. Smart.” She tenses, grip on the counter tightening. “Did it work?” Her voice is sharp, edged with something unreadable.

Kate meets Yelena’s gaze in the mirror. “No.” The word is resolute.

Even if she’d spent years in that facility, tortured, stripped of creature comforts. Shown images and reports daily of the horrors Yelena has committed, her mind would not change. The woman before her is not the woman in those pictures, she’s Yelena Belova. And she may be capable of gut turning violence, but the Yelena that Kate knows is so much more than that.

She enjoys cuddles, and binge watching shitty reality TV. Mapping out the stars on a New York rooftop, cooking, gifting random items and trinkets that she thinks Kate might enjoy. Vests, with so many pockets. A new outfit for everyday of the week, because she never had the freedom of choice before. She’s fiercely loyal, and unabashedly protective of what she loves.

Kate sighs, “she wanted me to see you as a weapon. A monster. But that’s not who you are. Not to me.” She runs a hand through her matted hair, digging at her scalp.

Yelena turns, lips pressing into a thin line, her eyes narrowing. “What you saw today. That was not the actions of a monster?” she gestures towards her bloodied suit with one hand, chunks of human flesh and brain matter still clinging to it, swinging with the movement. “This..is not carnage?”

“No” Kate shakes her hair, the word again, resolute. “ That. Is a culmination of years of abuse and torture. Pain. Pain is what I saw in those pictures Yelena. Suffering, agony, a cry for help.” She paces towards the widow, slowly. The blonde is still unpredictable. “You didn’t deserve the Red Room. And your parents should have protected you” her gaze flicks wildly across Yelena’s features, pressing on. “I couldn’t protect you then. But I can now, I will regret betraying your trust for the rest of my life—but I won’t let you push me away”

The weight of Kate’s words hangs between them, heavy and unyielding. Yelena doesn’t respond, her jaw tightening as she stares at the running water.

Finally Yelena speaks, “I am so angry at you. I don’t know how to—“ she raises her head to the sky looking at the ceiling and exhaling, “I still—love you. I can’t—I feel—“

“Conflicted” Kate steps into Yelena’s space, reaching out slowly and placing a hand on the blondes shoulder, not missing the way the woman flinches. She sighs, continuing. “And that’s okay. This—is gonna be hard to navigate for you. Whatever you need you can have it.”

“Space.” Yelena bows her head, “I need time. Alone. When you were gone. All I could think about was getting you back. Now you are safe, I need space, to work out what is in my head”

The cold tile beneath her palms feels grounding, but it isn’t enough to quiet the storm in Yelena’s chest. This isn’t the Red Room; this isn’t a mission. And yet, the emotions clawing at her feel like a threat—a weakness she can’t afford. Trusting Kate has made her vulnerable, she isn’t sure if she can crawl out of that vulnerability unscathed.

Kate’s heart pangs, she isn’t foolish enough to expect them to go back to normal, but she can’t help the disappointment she feels. She’s been gone for days, isolated. She wants Yelena, and Yelena wants space. Despite the fact it hurts, she understands.

“Okay Lena” Kate whispers, “okay” she fiddles with her fingers, Yelena’s eyes dart to the motion. “Let me help you—shower.. at least?”

Yelena hates how much she wants to forgive the archer. Anger was easier—it was familiar. It kept her sharp, kept her safe. But every time Kate’s voice softens, every time she says ‘Lena’ like that, it unravels her resolve. Kate Bishop has slipped past every defense she’s built.

For a moment, Yelena doesn’t move, the tension in her body palpable. Eventually, with a heavy sigh, she nods, the smallest of movements. “Fine.”

Kate moves quickly, worried Yelena might change her mind. She gently unclips the buckles on Yelena’s vest, sliding it off her shoulders with care. Her fingers brush against the blood-streaked fabric, and her heart clenches at the sight of the bruises blossoming across Yelena’s collarbone.

“You’re—really sticky,” Kate murmurs, her voice soft but teasing, an attempt to lighten the mood.

“And you smell like one of the sewer rats.” Yelena counters, “you look like one also.”

Kate smirks, for the first time in days, an optimistic warmth blossoms within her. She unzips the widows suit, and moves to unstrap the holsters on Yelena’s thighs; hands steady despite the flood of emotions swirling inside her.

Yelena stands still, letting Kate work, her gaze fixed on the tiled floor.

When Yelena is down to just her undershirt and pants, Kate hesitates. “Do you want me to step out?” she asks gently, voice laced with uncertainty.

Yelena glances at her, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “Stay,” she says, almost inaudibly.

Kate nods, as she removes the last layers of Yelena’s clothing, the damage is laid bare. Bruises bloom across her ribs, deep purples and blues spreading like storm clouds over her pale skin. A jagged cut runs along her side, hastily stitched and stained with dried blood. Her arms are marked with scrapes and raw gashes, while her abdomen is swollen and bruised from Fisk’s relentless blows.

“Fuck” Kate breathes out. Yelena had taken a beating, and somehow still managed to fight Fisk. The woman before her is a force of nature, her battered body a testament of her resolve.

Instead of speaking Kate steps back, her cheeks flushing as she peels off her own suit, then her shirt, pants following shortly after. It feels like heaven to be out of the clothes she’s been marinating in; the moment feels more level, now that they’re both laid bare.

“What are you doing?” Yelena asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I smell like a sewer rat,” Kate shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. “And besides, I’m not letting you stand in there alone. You’ll probably fall over and break your neck.”

Yelena huffs, the corner of her mouth twitching upward despite herself. “You’re insufferable.” She rolls her eyes, “if you ogle me, I will stab you.”

Kate smiles, eyes flicking away from Yelena’s form. There’s no doubt in her mind that the widow means that. “Noted, No—ogling.” She moves toward the shower, stepping in first.

The water cascades over her freezing cold body, the heat almost unbearable after days of being in minus temperatures. It stings, like someone is ironing her skin. She watches the blood, grime and sweat run down the drain, tilting her head back to wet her hair; the sensation is almost overwhelming after so much discomfort.

Kate leans out slightly, looking at Yelena. “Come” she murmurs softly, extending a hand toward the blonde. Her tone is steady, but her heart feels like it might break through her ribs.

Even before this, they had not had the intimacy of a shower together. Although now it’s born out of necessity rather than choice, it still feels overwhelming.

Yelena hesitates, the vulnerability she’s been holding at bay flickers across her face, a fleeting shadow. With a small exhale, she steps forward, her movements slow as she takes Kate’s hand.

The water hits Yelena’s battered body, the droplets catching on dried blood and dirt, she flinches slightly at the contact; but Kate steadies her, free hand gently brushing Yelena’s arm.

“I’ve got you,” Kate whispers.

Yelena doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t pull away either. She stands under the spray, letting the water rinse over her, blonde hair plastering to her face and neck. The bruises and cuts on her skin look even harsher under the water’s glistening sheen.

Kate grabs a wash cloth, squirting a small amount of liquid soap onto it. Stretching her hand outward, and gently rubbing at Yelena’s skin. Her touch is firm enough to scrub, but not hard enough to hurt the blonde further.

Yelena closes her eyes, allowing the contact, allowing herself to be cared for. Her heart and head are at odds with each other. Her brain tells her to run, that Kate will only end up hurting her again in the long run, that the archer is reckless and spares no thought to anything but her cause. But her heart tells her to give Kate another chance, that no human is perfect, that her girlfriend deserves some leeway, trust.

“Lena I—”

Yelena opens her eyes, her gaze meeting Kate’s. There’s not as much anger there now, only exhaustion and something softer, something fragile. “I know.”

Kate bites her lip, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. “I’ll make it right. I promise.”

Yelena doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t lash out, or try to push Kate away.

For now, it’s enough.

The moment is fragile, but it’s theirs. In the warm cocoon of the shower, amidst the steam, they find something they’ve been missing—connection. It’s not perfect, and it’s far from mended, but it’s a start.

——-

04:24

Clean.

Kate has never felt so clean in her life.

The dirty, grimy layer of sweat and blood has been washed off both her and Yelena. Steam billows into the bedroom as they step out of the ensuite, Kate had helped Yelena dry; gently patting the blondes skin.

In the process, she’d seen the full extent of the injuries Yelena has sustained from tonight. Hues of black and purple bleeding together in sickening patterns that speak of relentless blows. The angry cut along the left side of her abdomen, its edges jagged and torn, oozing fresh blood where stitches have given way in the heat of the shower.

Her knuckles are split and swollen, the skin flayed from relentless impact. A gash along her jawline catches the light, its edges clean but raw, still weeping faint streaks of crimson. Her cheekbone is swollen and discolored, a deep violet blooming beneath the surface like ink spreading through water.

Kate watches a towel swaddled Yelena walk towards the bed. The archer makes her way over to the dresser, quickly throwing on an oversized jumper and some boxers.

She picks out one of her oversized tracksuits for her girlfriend. “Sit down, Let me stitch you up.” She spins on her heels, pacing back to the bathroom and grabbing the medical kit.

The widow watches the display, silently doing as requested and stiffly sitting on the end of the bed. The motion giving way to a wave of nausea, she’s reaping the rewards of her overexertion. She doesn’t want to accept help from Kate, but her options are limited; Sonyas meddling yet again landing her in boiling water.

Yelena stays silent, eyeing Kate as she frantically bumbles around the bathroom. There’s urgency in the archers movements but also a careful restraint, as though she’s afraid to push too hard, or do too much.

Finding the kit, Kate makes her way back to the bed, kneeling in-front of Yelena; bare skin pressing into the plush black carpet. “Hey” she looks up at the blonde, meeting piercing green eyes.

For a beat Yelena just stares, even though she is angry, there’s a hint of peace. In the knowledge that Kate is safe, Kate is here, their mission to retrieve the archer was successful. “Hi” she blinks down at the taller woman, eyelids becoming increasingly heavy.

“Let me do your side. I’ll put butterfly stitches on the rest” Kate digs around in the box, pulling out a surgical needle and thread.

“I do no-“

“Please. Lena. I know you can do it. But you don’t need to” Kate looks up at the widow, pleading.

Yelena’s jaw tightens, and her eyes narrow in resistance. The weight of Kate’s plea presses against her resolve, but the truth is, she doesn’t have the strength to argue. Every movement feels like a battle, every breath a reminder of the damage she’s taken. She exhales sharply, a begrudging surrender. She lifts the towel, exposing her stomach, and ribs.

Kate takes a deep breath, soaking a cotton ball in iodine and gently cleaning the gash on Yelena’s abdomen.

Yelena stiffens at the sensation. Not just because it hurts, but because Kate is so gentle, it’s almost uncomfortable. Being helped with such care and adoration by someone who had also inflicted pain, betrayal; a cruel double edged sword.

“Lena..”

Yelena hums, gripping the sheets tightly with both hands as the needle breaks through raw skin.

“Do you think… love is.. just another form of—control?” Kate works the needle in and out, gently pulling the wound back together. Meticulous in her movements, but impressively gentle.

What ” Yelena grits through her teeth, head falling backwards, attempting to breathe through the pain, the sensation of her skin tugging. “Why do you ask this?”

Kate exhales shakily, Yelena has barely spoken to her since rescuing her. Now is probably not the appropriate time to have this conversation, but word vomit will always be her downfall. “I just—Valentina. She said.. you traded one form of control for another. Do you—feel—“

“I do not-” Yelena hisses as Kate pulls the last stitch tight, tying off and knotting the thread. “I- love is the absence of control. I think. I do not have-“ she tilts her head back down, inhaling slowly so as not to strain her broken ribs further. “I have not had much experience. But with you. I feel powerless.”

Kate places a bandage over the wound, slowly wrapping the blondes waist with some gauze, and packing material, to hold everything in place. “In a bad way?”

Yelena huffs, “you break my trust. Trust which you almost die to earn. And yet, I put myself through this-“ she gestures to her body, “to save you” she sighs. “Still, even now, all I want is you. It is maddening—I do not understand it.”

Kate hums, pulling the gauze tight and securing it. She dives back into the medical kit, pulling out the butterfly stitches, eyes roaming the blondes body, searching for what needs to be attended to next. She can sense Yelena is not finished, right now, she’s just happy to listen to the widow talk.

“There is no control in that. No control in the way you throw yourself recklessly into danger, for the people you love.” Yelena sighs, allowing Kate to tend to the rest of her wounds, finding reluctant comfort in the gentle touch. “I think. Love is… to let go”

Kate feels tears prick behind her eyes, without trying Yelena has eased her nerves. regardless of the fact the tension between them is rife; like magnets—they are drawn to each-other.

“Yeah. Yeah that sounds about right” Kate sniffles, not willing to cry and ruin the moment. “Can I—your face”

Yelena nods, short and curt.

Kaye studies the lines of Yelena’s face for a moment, attempting to burn it into her memory, incase there’s ever a time where she never gets to see the blonde again.

“You’re so- god you’re—“ Kate trails off, shaking her head, calling Yelena beautiful right now is probably not the best move. She’s back to censoring her emotions, swallowing hard as she begins placing the butterfly stitches along the wound on Yelena’s face.

There is a question on her lips however, one that’s been playing on her mind. Valentina was quite certain that Kate would be unable to be found, Even with Kamala’s resources the base was so remote it seems odd that the widows even knew where to look. “How did you find me?”

Yelena’s voice is horse when she replies, tiredness weeping from the tone. “Sonya. She put a tracker in your pancakes”

Kate blinks several times, pausing her movements for a second before continuing the stitching “excuse m-“

“Sonya. Put. A. Tracker. In. You-“

“Yeah that’s what I thought you said. But I mean that would be super weird right? That’s not like a normal thing to do-“

Yelena hums, raising a single eyebrow, the motion pulling at the gradually hardening scabs on her face. “Perhaps if you were not so predictably stupid”

Kate stops her movements, scowling at the blonde, “How.. how big was it? Am I gonna like-“

“You eat like Fanny. Don’t chew.” Yelena huffs, “It will come out when you go caka”

Kate chokes on her spit, “that’s like… the second time you’ve compared me to your dog. Also I’m kind of feeling very not chill about the fact that Sonya put a literal tracker in my food.. like.. she couldn’t have put it on my suit?”

“For you remove it? Or for it to be found in the aftermath of your capture?” Yelena tilts her head.

The dumbfounded look on the archers face is entertaining, as is the reaction to the knowledge that Sonya did what she did. Kate is stupid, and annoyingly likeable; even when she wants to push her away.

“Okay I’m no-“

“Kate.” Yelena rolls her eyes, “I am very tired. You are taking a very long time”

“Right sorry” Kate gets back to work, dutifully placing butterfly stitches, her touches soft.

With each press, Yelena’s body relaxes, the tension in her muscles dispersing.

The slight pull at the corner of the widows lips isn’t much, but it’s the most Kate’s got out of Yelena for the entire night. A tiny ember of normality, a promise; that the trust she’d shattered can be fixed. She thinks back to the first night she’d met Yelena, when the woman broke into her house, and stole Mac and cheese.

We are defined by what we do. Not by nice words

Sorry. Won’t cut it. Not this time, she has to show Yelena that she’s learnt something from this. She’ll spend the rest of her life doing so, if that’s what it takes.

Kate presses the last butterfly stitch into place, watching Yelena intently, realising the blonde is still in nothing but a towel. “Do you—I can help with..” she gestures towards the oversized outfit she picked out.

“No” Yelena blinks down at the archer, a flicker of exhaustion and something unspoken in her eyes. She sighs, “I can’t—I need-“

“Space.” Kate fights tears, it’s not fair to cry, to make Yelena feel guilty for setting a boundary; no matter how much it hurts. “I’ll uh- I’m gonna-“ she thumb gestures towards the door.

Yelena hums, “your phone is in your room. Barton made me promise to make you call him.”

“Yeah.. I’ll uh- I’ll do that.” Kate rises from her crouched position, making her way towards the door, opening it without looking back. She pauses for a moment, “if you need m-“

“I will call”

“Okay” Kate pulls her lips into a thin line, exiting the room and making her way downstairs.

The distance between them has shrunk, but only by what feels like a millimetre. This is the guarded Yelena she’d spent months trying to get to open up, months chipping at the absurdly high walls. Kate’s actions have landed them here, in limbo, and it sucks.

———

5:02

Kate is in the kitchen pouring herself some coffee when she hears the front door open. Realistically, she knows it’s Sonya, but she arms herself with the closest weapon just in case.

Sonya rounds the corner, staring at the archer. She lifts an eyebrow, “and what exactly would you do with that?”

“Um—Stab you?” Kate looks at the butter knife in her hand, she clears her throat, placing it back in its proper spot.

Sonya hums, “not really your style. Blunt. Very messy.” She places several shopping bags on the counter. “How is she?”

Kate slowly mixes sugar and creamer into her coffee, eyes never leaving Sonya’s form. Rage is radiating from the dark haired widow, no matter how well she’s disguising it. “She’s.. it’s not great. I think she’s in more pain than she’s showing. But uh-she’s cleaned up.”

“She accepted your help?” Sonya unloads groceries, mostly medical supplies, but also food, snacks, some drinks; more vodka.

“Yeah, well.. kinda” Kate fidgets with her fingers, staring down at the ground. “Look I know-“

“No. No you do not.” Sonya puts down a can of tomato’s, with a little more force than necessary. “The only reason I have not punched you in the face is because Yelena would not be happy” she rounds the kitchen island coming to stand directly in-front of Kate.

Kate takes a step backwards, shaky on her feet. Anger, is not an emotion she’s seen Sonya display, it’s new; and slightly terrifying.

“Do you remember what I told you” Sonya cocks her head, a single eyebrow raising questioningly.

“Wha-“

“I told you if you hurt her I will skin you” Sonya steps further into Kate’s space, backing the small of her back up against the counter. “you’d better give me some very compelling answers or I might just make good on that”

Kate gulps, “Sonya-“

“We had everything. We could have got to your mother first. Valentina did not know we knew her plan, time was on our side.” Sonya hisses, jabbing a finger into Kate’s sternum, “even in anger, I cannot fathom why you decided to go rogue”

Kate feels the tears burning behind her eyes, weight of the mental manipulation, her strained relationship with Yelena, sleep deprivation; all catching up to her at once. “I don’t know okay!” Her voice is a level higher, “I don’t know. I panicked. Valentina was leaving, I didn’t know when we’d get another shot”

“So you decided to take her on alone? You thought you were just that good?” Sonya narrows her eyes, threading her eyebrows together. “What if I could not get to Yelena in time? What if we had been made? If I had not had the foresight to plant a tracker on you, I cannot even imagine how long it would have taken us to find you. What they would have done to you.”

A single tear escapes the dam, Kate tilts her head back, looking up at the ceiling attempting to stave off the rest. “I know. I fucked up.”

“You did more than ‘fuck up’” Sonya tuts, removing her finger and stepping back slightly, “when you join the do-gooders— Kate they are not as aware as us. You cannot rely on them to pick up your slack. You must be better.” She drags a hand down her face, pulling at the skin. “Our instincts, allow you to act so recklessly. Instincts we have honed over our entire lifetimes”

Something that looks a lot like care flickers over Sonya’s face, and it breaks Kate’s heart. It’s not just Yelena that’s grown fond of her, but Sonya too. This rage is born of protection, for both of them. The emotions hit Kate like a sack of shit, everything gushing all at once, she drops her head into her hands; sobbing.

yebat ” Sonya shifts her weight, hesitating slighting before ultimately pulling Kate into her arms; holding the taller woman against her chest. “I am—I am glad you are safe. And I know you are sorry. I just wish you were not so stupid.”

Kate buries her face into Sonya’s neck, even if the embrace is not from the person she wants it’s needed nonetheless; weight of the last few days finally easing. “I’ll do better, I promise”

“You must” Sonya holds the archer tighter, “I will not see Yelena break like this again. And I…care. I care about you Kate.” She rubs small circles into Kate’s back, allowing the brunette a moment to breathe.

Kate sniffles, relishing the hug for a moment longer before gently pulling away. “I’m sorry-for crying” she wipes at her eyes.

“Do not be. It has been a long couple of days.” Sonya pinches the bridge of her nose, glancing at Kate “and even though you are very foolish.. that does not change the fact I’m sure you went through hell.”

“Thank you” Kate smiles weakly, “I needed to—“

“It is fine. Do not get used to it.” Sonya smirks, expression morphing into something more forlorn. “Yelena. She will come around. Give her time.” She makes her way towards the door, “good night Kate Bishop—do not drink that coffee. Get some rest.”

“Night Sonya. No promises.” Kate smiles at the widow, watching as she walks away.

Kate stands in the kitchen, staring into her untouched coffee. The silence pressed heavy, broken only by the hum of the fridge. Tonight has been a snails slither towards the right path, the path of forgiveness.

Rome was not built in a day.

She drags her exhausted body toward her bedroom, leaving the coffee behind, slumping down onto the mattress; and allowing sleep to take her.

———

11:02

The morning finds Kate in the gym, running at an incline on the treadmill, attempting to quiet her mind.

She’d slept terribly, barely managing an hour; despite the plush mattress and cotton sheets. Though they are a far cry from the thin layer of blue foam she’d become accustomed to. The bite of the Ohio cold, and the weight in her chest, had forced her from the bed.

An hour and a half has passed since then, Kate’s alternated between the treadmill and weights. This is routine, grounding, the ache forming in her muscles is oddly satisfying. Only the steady thumping of her feet against the belt to fill the silence, calm.

“Kate”

Sonya.

Kate presses the end button, gripping the handles and lifting her body; placing both feet either side of the belt. “What’s up?” It’s far too casual, as if it’s just another morning.

“Come to the living room. We are discussing the next move.”

“Okay give m-“ Kate turns, Sonya is nowhere to be seen.

Rude.

Kate wipes the sweat from her brow with a towel, quickly giving the rest of her sweaty body a once over. She’s in a sports bra and joggers, body finally feeling adequately warm after her freezing captivity. She makes her way out of the gym, towards the living room door, there’s faint murmurs behind it; Russian. As the heavy oak swings open, the murmurs cease, both Sonya and Yelena turning to look at the archer.

Sonya is sat in the armchair, leant over the coffee table with her fingers interlocked, elbows resting on parted knees. Yelena, is wrapped in blanket, lying across the majority of one of the couches; now scowling at Kate.

The fireplace crackles and pops, radiating heat around the room. Kate puts the feelings of hurt aside and makes her way into the room. Opting to sit in the other armchair, next to Sonya.

“So-“

“Valentina got away.” Sonya cuts Kate off, sighing as she leans back into the armchair, the wood creaking under the weight. “Kamalas team scoured the base, she was no where to be found. Likely took off during the commotion.”

“Of course” Kate mutters, playing with her fingers. Not missing the way Yelena’s eyes trail her form, for just a second too long; lingering on exposed her midsection.

Pervert.

“As of right now we have no leads. Kamala’s team are looking into it too but.. coming up short.” Sonya stretches her arms into the air, body making a pop sound as she continues, “despite the setback. We have been successful in our last two missions. The scientists are history. And we have the added bonus of Fisk in Kamala’s custody.”

“That’s a win right, one less problem?” Kate says, trying to focus on the positive, though her voice lacks conviction. Her gaze flickers to Yelena, but the blonde remains stoic, wrapped in the blanket like it’s her armor.

“One less, yes. But Valentina is the ringleader” Sonya sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fisk is in custody but he is influential. We need to help Kamala dig up dirt, enough to stick this time. Keep him out of the picture.”

Kate’s gaze flicks to Yelena, the blondes breathing is shallow, like every intake of air is painful. The cuts that adorn her face are still angry, but scabbed. Her cheekbone bears the brunt of an ugly impact, the bruise blossoming out in jagged, uneven patterns; somehow impossibly darker.

Even still, Yelena is breathtakingly beautiful. Chiselled jawline scraped and cut, but still sharp. The ever growing bags under her eyes a testament to her tiredness but also her resilience. Kate watches the flutter of unfairly long eyelashes, the way pouted lips part ever so slightly with each ragged breath. The flecks of gold in the widows green eyes, eyes that suddenly lock with hers and—

Fuck.

Stop staring.

Kate peels her eyes away, zeroing in on Sonya, who now dons a small smirk.

Double fuck.

Kate clears her throat, “dirt right, dirty dirt. Bishop— uh— Bishop securities, I can use the intranet. There must be something I can find”

Sonya hums, lips pulling into a half arsed concealed smile, “good idea” she leans forward in the chair, “Until Yelena is fit. We need to lay low. Kamala is going to keep us in the loop.”

“So are we like—working with her now?” Kate pulls her lips in, rolling them together.

“Your stunt left us no choice. And this is not a good thing” Yelena speaks, for the first time since Kate entered the room. “This is a game that cannot be played by their rules. Now we are forced to cooperate, however they see fit.”

Kate knows that’s code for something along the lines of, ‘I’m pissed because now I can’t do what I want, and I have to work with idiots’ two things Yelena despises.

“Lena, оставь это Sonya quips, raising her eyebrows at the blonde. “For now. We cooperate. Kamala’s team has their directives, but we need to ensure they do not have access to everything. There are pieces of this puzzle only we should hold.”

“Andreas?” Kate questions, glancing at Sonya.

“Da.”

It’s final, and Kate gets it. Andreas is the last known remaining Red Room operative, a man that caused all the widows pain and suffering. Though she still is finding her place in the grey area of killing, Yelena, Sonya, the widows; have all made their peace with it. It’s not up to her, or the young avengers to decide what the widows do with him.

“Working with Kamala’s team. Does however grant us grace. With the CIA, FBI, authorities” Sonya smirks, “it is much harder to arrest an ‘avenger’” she air quotes the word avenger.

Kate watches Yelena visibly recoil from the word, curling her lips in disgust; no doubt the temporary alliance has added to her prickly mood.

“What abou— what about my.. mom” Kate glances at Yelena, whose jaw clenches at the mention of Eleanor.

“Kate. Your mother will be the next play.” Sonya cuts Kate off, glancing at her, then at Yelena. “Once Valentina has licked her wounds, she’ll come back punching.”

Yelena doesn’t speak, her expression unreadable as she tightens the blanket around her shoulders. Her eyes, however, remain fixed on Kate, watching for her reaction.

Kate swallows hard, eyes boring into a spot on the rug. “Right. I mean—that was inevitable right.” She bites the inside of her cheek.

The archer knew this was coming, Valentina had not been successful in breaking her. The next best thing is to use Eleanor as leverage, she couldn’t flip Kate with mind games, naturally the next step is force.

“Anya is still watching her.” Yelena’s tone is calm, but laced with uncertainty. “The goal is to strike first, before their play is made.” She shifts slightly in her seat, her movements stiff.

Kate notices the way her shoulders tense with the effort. Beneath the blanket draped over her frame, her body is rigid, posture betraying the pain she’s trying so hard to conceal.

“Okay.” It’s all Kate can muster, she can’t help the distinct feeling she’s gambling with her mother’s life.

“For now. We focus on Fisk. Once that is taken care of and Yelena can move without looking like she’s going to vomit. We can coordinate a strategy for the rest with the baby avengers” Sonya stands, rising from the armchair. “until then. We train. We dig. We lay low.”

Kate glances at Yelena again, but the blonde’s gaze is fixed on the crackling fireplace. “Got it,” Kate says softly, standing. She hesitates for a moment, looking like she wants to say more, but turns and heads for the door. As it swings shut behind her, the room falls into a tense silence.

Yelena doesn’t move, her eyes still on the fire.

——-

Yelena POV

Yelena’s eyes remain fixed on the fire, the flickering flames mirroring the turmoil within her. She doesn’t move, even as the faint sound of Kate’s footsteps fade. Her heart is loud in her ears, drumming against her ribs in defiance of her efforts to stay detached.

She can tell that the archer hasn’t slept either, Kate’s bags have bags. The manipulation she went through was undoubtedly exhausting, the mental strength to stay planted in the present, not the intricately weaved fantasy world Valentina spun.

Yelena also knows Kate is trying . The space she requested is being granted with measured care, but the ache of betrayal lingers still—heavy, unwelcome. Yelena’s throat tightens at the thought of Kate’s expression moments ago, the hurt carefully concealed beneath a façade of understanding. The archer’s blue eyes had been soft, yet resolute, a mirror of the endless willingness to bridge the chasm between them.

But the blonde reminds herself of the hurt, of the selfishness. She acted recklessly. She endangered the mission. She endangered you. The words cycle in her mind like a mantra, a shield against the part of her that wants to forgive.

Yelena tightens the blanket around herself, her ribs screaming in protest at the motion. Her body aches—bruises, cuts, and exhaustion weighing her down. But it’s the emotional wounds that feel the most unbearable. She closes her eyes, willing herself to steady her breathing.

Her heart and her head are locked in a stalemate.

“If you think too hard, your head will explode”

She’d almost forgotten Sonya was in the room.

Yelena huffs softly, shifting her attention back to the fire. “I do not need your commentary.”

“You do,” Sonya counters smoothly, standing and stretching her arms above her head. “You’re spinning in circles. It’s exhausting to watch.” She steps closer, her voice lowering. “I don’t have the patience for your brooding.”

“I do not brood.” Yelena narrows her eyes, glancing at Sonya, shoulders tightening.

Sonya smirks. “Of course not. You are just sitting here, silently glaring at a fire, like tragic anti-hero in a noir film.” She perches on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward. “You are angry, yes. But you’re also scared. And that is okay sestra”

The bluntness of Sonya’s words cuts through Yelena’s defenses. She opens her mouth to retort but finds herself unable to form the words. Instead, she shifts uncomfortably under Sonya’s penetrating stare.

“She is tryin-“

“You think I do not see that!” Yelena snaps, she’d not slept at all last night; heart too heavy. Exhaustion is creeping into her bones, infecting her mind. Her jaw tightens, balling her hands into fists. “She betrayed my trust.”

“She betrayed us all.” Sonya nods, unflinching. “But.” She sighs, “if she can absolve us of our sins. Should we not offer her the same?”

Yelena stares at Sonya, her jaw tightening further as the words sink in. The fire crackles softly in the background, “it is not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” Sonya tilts her head, gaze unwavering. “Lena.. I am not here to tell you how to feel. What to do. But Kate.. did not lead a life of calculated precision. She does not know how to control her emotions like we do. This is both her flaw and her strength.”

“Why do you sing for her now?” Yelena raises an eyebrow, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa to face Sonya, “you were ready to kill her twenty four hours ago”

“I was. Until I realised that her actions were not out of malice, or defiance. But fear—love.” Sonya pulls her lips into a thin line, “she is human—“ she rubs at her temples, brown eyes boring into green, “holding onto this anger, will only rob you of joy.”

Yelena clenches her jaw, the weight of Sonya’s words pressing against her already fractured defenses. She hates how easily Sonya cuts through her emotions, how plainly she lays them out in front of her like an exposed nerve.

“Joy?” Yelena scoffs, turning her gaze back to the fire. “What is joy? This. This does not feel like joy. It feels like weakness. Vulnerability. Like I’m being torn apart from the inside.”

Sonya hums, turning to stare at the fire. “Perhaps we can never truly be whole, until we are broken” she turns to back to Yelena, “Joy is not weakness, It’s what makes all of this worth it” she reaches out, placing a gentle palm on the blondes shoulder. “If you are not careful, you’ll lose it. Lose her. Her decision was stupid. But she is hurting too.”

Yelena’s gaze flickers at Sonya’s words, her throat constricting as she tries to maintain her composure. The fire crackles between them, the only sound breaking the heavy silence. The weight on her shoulder feels grounding, but asphyxiating at the same time.

“She made a choice,” Yelena says, her voice low and edged with pain. “A reckless one. And I—” She exhales sharply, her grip tightening on the blanket. “I cannot keep forgiving choices that put everything at risk.”

Sonya rises from the coffee table, her movements fluid and deliberate. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. But think about this, sestra—how many people have fought for you? Truly fought for you, even when you did not make it easy?”

The question lingers in the air as Sonya heads toward the door. She pauses, glancing back at Yelena with a rare softness in her eyes. “She is one of the few. Do not let your fear of being hurt again cost you everything.”

The door clicks shut, and Yelena is left alone with the firelight and her thoughts. She stares at the flames, her mind spiraling as she replays the moments of the past few days: Kate’s desperation, her recklessness.

Yelena rubs her temples, trying to make sense of her tangled emotions. The anger is real—raw and all-consuming. But so is the ache. The mindless tug of her heart toward Kate, even when her mind demands she push her away.

Kate Bishop, infuriating, unrelenting, so annoying.

Yelena hates how her heart softens at the thought of the woman. Hates how, despite everything, the thought of Kate’s tear-filled eyes and desperate apologies make her want to crawl out from the armor of her anger and pull the archer into her arms. She can’t forgive, not yet. The wound is still too fresh, scab still forming. But she’s beginning to acknowledge the cracks in her walls, the slow chisel, chipping at the foundations.

Kate may be an idiot, but she’s Yelena’s idiot. Reckless, unthinking, stubborn. But so loving, caring; gentle. She misses the safety of Kate’s arms, the scent of the archers skin, clothes. Watching animated movies, comparing the brunette to ugly characters.

She misses being soft.

She mourns for herself, the vulnerable self. The one that allows access to the soft and mushy insides, the one that felt held and safe to be irrevocably open.

The storm within her wages on, but the thunder has quelled. Giving way to rain, washing away the fiery anger; evening the rugged ground and laying new foundations—foundations built on hope.

Yelena exhales sharply, the breath rattling in her chest as she rubs a hand over her face. It’s too much to think about all at once. But for the first time since Kate’s play, she lets herself consider the possibility of forgiveness—not as a weakness, but as a choice. A choice to let the archer back in, to keep fighting.

Together.

———

12:02

Kate POV

The soft white cotton pillow case of Kate’s bed is drenched with tears, Yelena’s comment, and iciness; though justified, have cut deeper than she’d like to admit.

She can only ask for so much forgiveness, apologise so many times, before it becomes redundant. The possibility of Yelena ever forgiving her seemingly slipping further and further out of her reach, the widow is obdurate.

Her body aches and her heart feels like someone’s ripped it out and put it through a meat grinder, haphazardly mashing it back together then throwing it into the cavity in her chest. Paired with the constant cold feeling in her bones, her psyche still telling her she’s in confinement, it’s draining.

Everytime she closes her eyes, she sees surgical white walls, polished surfaces. She feels the ghost of the chill, nipping at biting at her body. The images she was shown are burned into her mind, the impending sense of doom lingering. Kate can feel her chest tightening, the gasps for air becoming faster, more desperate. Her mind is swarmed with one emotion,

Panic.

Suddenly she can’t breathe, everything is everywhere, her feelings are too much and too little all at once. Breaths are harder to catch and there’s a pressure behind her eyes, she chokes on the sobs. She scrambles to sitting position, clutching her knees to her chest as her mind continues to spiral. Valentina’s voice, cold and calculated, echoes in her head, each word twisting like a knife.

You think you’ve saved her, but you’ve only untethered her. Sooner or later, she’ll spiral. They all do’

Maybe Valentina was right, Maybe this was all a pipe dream.

Kate feels suffocatingly lonely, the world has taken everything from her, her father, her mother; her home, Yelena. The sobs are louder now, uncontrollable.

She shakily stands, reaching for the drawer in her nightstand. Lying inside it, her iPhone. She fumbles with the power button, thanking herself for having the foresight to turn it off when they’d left before, preserving battery.

Her quivering fingers hover over Clint’s number, deciding to lose every last shred of dignity, and brace for the onslaught of scolding; she presses dial.

——-

Kate’s not sure what she wants or needs from Clint, the longer the dialling tone stretches the further out of reach her words become. Her trembling fingers grip the phone so hard she fears the frosted glass panel may crack.

Finally, the line clicks.

Kate what the fuck were you thinking, we’ve been worried sick! I can’t believe you wo-“

“Hey old man” Kate’s voice is croaky and low, thick with the mucus stuck on her chest from crying.

Kate what’s wrong, what’s happened” Clint’s angry tone has disappeared, replaced with one of concern.

Incoming FaceTime Video Call .

Minus a thousand aura points.

Kate swipes to accept the call, desperately aching for human contact, someone to hold her even digitally; and tell her that the sky has not fallen. That she’s entitled to make mistakes, that she’s learning, that there’s even a slither of hope that her and Yelena can move past this.

The screen buffers for a second before connecting, Clint’s face appears, brows threaded with worry.

You look like shit kid. Have you slept at all?”

Kate huffs, managing a small smile, even with her racing heart. “Like an hour maybe. Who knew guilt was so crushing.”

Clint’s frown deepens, his eyes narrowing in that way that makes Kate feel like a wayward teenager all over again. “ Kate ..” he trails off, exhaling deeply. “ Talk to me. Are you okay?

“No” Kate’s voice is small, choking back another onslaught of tears, she knows Clint knows what happened. He’d been somewhat involved in orchestrating her prison break, so she spares him the details. “Clint I’ve ruined everything. I thought I was… doing the right thing.. but I’ve fucked it all. I can’t—“ she looses it, dropping the phone and burying her head in her hands.

Sweetie. Sweetie look at me.”

Kate roughly wipes her eyes, reaching out for the phone and lifting it. Laura’s face engulfs the screen, somehow, even miles away, just the sight of Clint’s wife soothes the gaping hole in her chest.

“Hey Laura, how are things” Kate rubs at her eyes again, “I’m good—I mean I’m having a great time, time of my life actually. Being a hero is all it’s cracked up to be—“

Kate ” Laura pulls her lips into a thin line, a pleading look washing over her pixelated face.

Kate’s bottom lip wobbles at the sight, breaking entirely, “I fucking ruined everything” she whispers, “I had something so good, I destroyed it”

Yelena?”

“She’s barely spoken to me. She hates me Laura. She can’t even look at me.”

Laura’s expression softens, a maternal warmth radiating through the screen. “ Kate, sweetheart, I don’t think Yelena hates you. She’s hurt, yes. But hate? She risked everything to save you.

Kate shakes her head, biting her lip to keep the tears at bay. “You can’t see her, Laura. The way she looks at me—like I wasn’t worth it. Like I’m just… another person who let her down.”

Laura’s gaze is steady, soothing. “ People process pain in different ways, Kate. Yelena’s been through so much. More than most people could handle.”

“Yeah,” Kate whispers, her voice cracking. “And I just added to it.”

No ,” Laura says firmly. “ You made a mistake. A big one, sure. But mistakes don’t define who you are—they’re a part of learning. And Kate, you’re still learning. We all are .”

The room is dark, save from the glow of Kate’s phone, illuminating her tear stained cheeks.

Laura’s lips curve into a faint smile. “ Loving someone means you’re going to screw up sometimes. It’s how you handle those moments that matters. You think me and Clint haven’t had times like this?

Kate feels her heartbeat slowing down, her breaths gradually returning to normal. She sniffles, “No. I mean I can’t honestly see you ever being angry.. I can see Clint being dumb but—“

Hey Clitns gruff voice comes through the speaker. It almost makes Kate laugh.

You know when he was an Avenger. He’d always tell me one last mission, one last job, one last bad guy— ” Laura sighs, “— it never was. The house was always half finished. I’d get upset, angry, emotional.”

Yel-“

Eventually. I learned that is just part of his nature. He’s a hero, can’t say no to saving the world. Just one last time Laura turns and smiles at Clint, shifting back to face Kate I know. It’s not the same. What you did.. was reckless, but your heart was in the right place

“I don’t think Yelena sees it like that” Kate mutters, blinking slowly, eyelids struggling to stay open.

Laura’s expression remains warm, her voice softening as if she’s trying to hold Kate’s fragile state with her words. “ Yelena doesn’t have to see it like that right now. She just needs time

Clint’s face reappears on the screen, leaning closer. “ Kid, you’ve been through hell. Give yourself a break. Yelena’s tough, and yeah, she’s pissed—rightfully so. But she’s also smart enough to know that you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Kate presses her lips together, the weight of their words settling into her chest. She nods slowly. “I just… I don’t know how to fix it.”

Laura smiles gently. You start by giving her space. But don’t disappear. Be there when she’s ready. And in the meantime, take care of yourself. You can’t pour from an empty cup honey.

Kate exhales deeply, her shoulders slumping as exhaustion begins to creep in. “Thank you. I really.. I needed this.. ”

Clint smirks faintly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “ You know we’re always here. Even if it’s just through the screen. But please. Get some sleep, you look like a raccoon that’s been digging through trash all night

Kate huffs a weak laugh, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Gee, thanks. Just what I needed to hear.”

Tough love Kate. Tough love.” Clint smiles.

“Okay, I’m gonna—pass out for the rest of the day. I’ll call you when I’m less—shitty. Talk business”

Clint nods, his expression softening further. “ Good. Rest, recharge. We’ll figure out the rest later. One step at a time, kid.”

Laura leans back into view, her smile warm and reassuring. “ And remember, Kate—progress isn’t a straight line. Sometimes it wobbles”

Kate nods, her chest loosening further. “Thanks, both of you. I mean it.”

She takes one last glance and their smiling faces before cutting the call, placing her phone on the nightstand. Lying down into the mattress, folding her arms. Kate shifts, leaning on her side, closing her eyes and waiting for sleep to claim her.

——

12:34

It never does.

Her mind, though quieter, continues to swirl.

Fuck it.

Kate grabs her phone, tumbling out of bed and throwing her bedroom door open. With a newfound fire boiling in the pit of her stomach, fanned by the desire to make things right. She plods downstairs, towards the living room.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs she approaches the oak door, heart hammering in her chest at the thought of seeing Yelena.

Pull yourself together.

She’s still your girlfriend.

She pulls the door open with a little more force than necessary, eyes landing on said girlfriend, still rolled up like a burrito in the same fluffy blanket as earlier.

Yelena’s head snaps up at the sound of the door opening, her sharp green eyes narrowing in immediate suspicion. “Yes?” she can tell Kate’s been crying, eyes unmistakably puffy, fresh tear tracks shining in the firelight.

Kate’s eyes glance over Yelena’s form, then the TV, Buffy The Vampire Slayer re runs playing on it. “I—“ the fire dies in her belly, reminded by the echoes of Laura’s words, to take it easy. “I can’t sleep”

Yelena quirks an eyebrow, “what do you want? Sleeping tablets?”

“I doubt you have them, or your eyes wouldn’t look like that ” Kate gestures towards Yelena’s face, pressing into the room and closing the door behind her with a soft click.

“My eyes are nor-“

“You haven’t slept either.” Kate cuts the widow off, slumping into the armchair across from her. “Don’t try to act like you’re unaffected by everything all the time, it’s not cool.”

Yelena hates that Kate can read her like a book, it’s making pushing her away even harder. Forcing her to reflect, making her feel vulnerable under the archers gaze, scrutinised.

Yelena huffs softly, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glares at Kate. “And whose fault is that?”

Kate doesn’t flinch at the accusation. She expected it, welcomed it even. “Mine,” she says plainly, her voice quiet but steady. “It’s my fault.”

Yelena’s sharp gaze falters slightly at the admission, but she doesn’t respond, shifting her focus back to the TV. Buffy stakes a vampire on-screen, the sound of dust settling into silence.

Kate shifts on the leather chair, leaning back into it. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, signing into Bishop Security Intranet. She knows Yelena is watching her, she can see it out of the corner of her eye.

Yelena studies her girlfriend. Though she won’t admit it out loud, her body seems to have released pent up tension since Kate’s arrival, it seems the mere presence of the archer is a comfort, even though she doesn’t want it to be.

“What are you doing” Yelena’s tone is accusatory, prickly.

“Digging” Kate ignores the ice in the blondes voice, responding calmly; tapping Wilson Fisk into the search bar. Several files pop up, mostly mundane.

Petty thefts, arson, there’s an interesting link on the tracksuit mafia that she clicks on. It pops up in another window, unsurprisingly it’s written in Russian. Kate sinks into the armchair, side eyeing Yelena, who’s averted her gaze back to Sarah Michelle Gellar.

Kate pulls her lips into a thin line, standing and slowly approaching the blonde. She knows Yelena sees her coming, sees the pettiness in green eyes as the widow pointedly ignores her, eyes fixed on the tv.

Kate thrusts her iPhone screen into Yelena’s vision, earning her an eye roll and a tut. A sound that reverberates throughout the room, regardless of the fireplace that crackles.

“Are you digging or am I. Becau-“

“Lena, please.” Kate huffs, switching her weight to her left leg. She watches as Yelena’s resolve softens just a bit, her furrowed brows relaxing. Despite her display of distaste.

Yelena’s gaze flicks to the offending iPhone, showering her eyes with the brightness of the sun. She squints, both in annoyance and necessity. “It is stating their stupid crimes. Very boring. Unprofessional. Sloppy.”

Kate hums, backing out of the file and making her way back to the armchair; ungracefully slumping back into it. She’s missed Yelena’s accent, her voice, the way her tongue wraps around certain words. The smell , sandalwood and orange. It’s almost intoxicating being back within the widows proximity, her heart screams at her, playing a different tune to her head.

Yelena eyes the archer, half focusing on the tv, more focusing on the way Kate’s brows furrow. The shadows the TV glare casts over the taller woman’s features, the rhythmic rise and fall of Kate’s shoulders, inline with steady breaths.

The widows chest feels tight at the image, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep next to Kate, rid her body of this exhaustion; pain. She fights the desire. Her head is not ready yet, regardless of her hearts best efforts.

“What does this say” Kate is up and out if the seat again, pushing the phone yet again into Yelena’s face.

“I am supposed to be resting Kate. You put phone into my eyes, burn them. I am trying to watch Buffy” Yelena stares up at the archer, deadpan expression.

Yelena looks vulnerable, small, wrapped in the blanket like a spring roll. It’s glaringly obvious that the shorter woman hasn’t slept either, if the bloodshot whites of her eyes are anything to go by.

“Bab-“ Kate stops herself, The word slips to the edge of her tongue, familiar and safe. But it doesn’t feel earned, not now—not yet. “Please”

Yelena narrows her eyes, sensing the hesitation. she can tell Kate’s trying to be calculated, but failing miserably. Sonya is right, emotions are both Kate’s flaw and strength, duality.

“Are you going to keep getting up and down, asking me for translation?”

“Uh-“ Kate eyes the tv momentarily, eyes shifting back to Yelena “probably“

Yelena’s eyes flicker toward Kate, watching the archer fumble with her phone and shift awkwardly from foot to foot. She wants to snap at her, tell her to leave, to stop hovering—but the words catch in her throat.

She looks back at the TV, but Buffy’s fight scene feels muted, the dialogue a distant hum. Her focus shifts inward, battling the ache in her chest that only seems to worsen with Kate’s presence.

She tells herself, don’t. But, there’s persistent warmth radiating off the brunette that seeps into her defenses. It’s in the way Kate’s brows knit in concentration, the way she lingers like she’s afraid to breathe too loudly. The part of Yelena still yearns for the comfort they used to share—that still loves her, despite everything—grows louder.

Yelena groans, shifting painfully towards the back of the sofa. Her body aches, ribs feeling like molten hot daggers each time she moves. She cannot heal without sleep and thus so far it has failed to find her. She doesn’t want to give in, but she doesn’t have the strength to fight anymore. “Sit”

Kate blinks, startled by the sudden command. “Sit?” Her eyes flick between Yelena and the small space the blondes made on the couch.

“Yes, Kate,” Yelena huffs, her tone exasperated but not unkind. “You are like mosquito buzzing around me. Very annoying. Just sit.” She gestures vaguely at the spot on the couch next to her, though her expression carries more resignation than enthusiasm.

Kate hesitates, her fingers tightening around her phone. “Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

Kate,” Yelena interrupts, her green eyes locking on the archer with a quiet intensity. “Just Sit.”

Kate moves slowly, her movements careful, as if she’s testing Yelena’s boundaries. She sits at the edge of the sofa, perched like a stranger, who’s staying the night. She keeps her distance, careful, not to jostle Yelena too much and hurt her further.

“Show me” Yelena’s voice is low, exhausted.

Kate silently hands Yelena the phone, their fingers brush in the exchange, the touch leaving tiny lightning bolts lingering on her skin. This close, Kate can feel the heat radiating off Yelena, a warmth that’s both comforting and agonizing. She clenches her jaw, trying to will away the tears that threaten to well up again.

“I can’t sleep Yelena” Kate huffs out, picking at a loose piece of skin on her cuticle.

Yelena side eyes the archer, unwavering in her silence. The amber fire glow highlights the tension in her jaw, the glassiness of her tired eyes. Her gaze flicks back to the phone, as if the weight of Kate’s words hasn’t settled over her.

Kate shifts uncomfortably, Yelena has always been a fortress, but this; feels impenetrable. Even before, when she’d had to break down walls, walk through hell and back to get Yelena to trust her. There were always sparks of hope, flickers of progress. This , is torture.

“I know I’m annoying,” Kate mumbles, her voice softer now, tinged with self-deprecation. “I know I messed up. But… I just—” She pauses, inhaling sharply. “I don’t know how to be without you. And right now, I feel like I’m losing you.”

Yelena’s fingers pause mid-scroll, her shoulders stiffening at Kate’s confession. For a moment, she doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. The only sound in the room is the faint hum of the TV, the muffled voices of Buffy and her friends strategizing against some new evil, the soft crackle of the fireplace.

Kate’s heart pounds in her chest, every beat echoing louder in the silence. She bites down on her lip, hard enough to hurt, her hands clasp tightly together to keep them from shaking.

Finally, Yelena sets the phone down on the cushion beside her. She doesn’t look at Kate immediately, instead staring at the flickering fire as if it holds the answers she’s searching for. Her voice, when it comes, is quiet but firm. “I told you I need space.”

“I know. I know I and I’m trying it’s just— you’re right here and I can’t stop.. I—“ Kate feels like she’s being torn in two, like someone has sucker punched right through her chest and grabbed her heart; ripping it out. Hollow, empty. A single tear falls, she couldn’t stop it even if she wanted to.

Yelena turns her head slightly at the sound of Kate’s voice breaking, her sharp eyes flick to the tear tracing its path down Kate’s cheek. For a moment, Yelena’s expression softens. It’s barely perceptible, just a glimmer of something fragile breaking through her guarded exterior. Her gaze lingers on Kate’s face, tracing the pain etched into every line, every tear-track.

Sonya’s words rattle around the space in Yelena’s head, haunting her.

Her decision was stupid. But she is hurting too’

It’s the thought of the brunette hurting, the worry embedded on Kate’s face. The way the archers throat bobs with unshed tears and the entirely exhausted look that does it for her. It pulls at Yelena’s humanity like chewing gum stuck in hair, impossible to remove, impossible to ignore; yanking at just the right strands to inflict a sharp pain.

“Lie down”

Kate’s head jerks to face Yelena, her puffy eyes wide and startled. “What?”

Yelena sighs, her voice edged with exhaustion, one that doesn’t just come from lack of sleep. She looks away, her gaze falling to the flickering TV screen, her voice softening as she repeats herself. “Lie down. You are shaking, and you look like a roadkill. You need to sleep.”

Kate shifts cautiously, her heart pounding as she inches closer to Yelena. The couch isn’t big enough to provide a comfortable buffer between them, but she tries anyway, keeping her movements slow.

As she stretches out, her arm brushes Yelena’s ribcage, eliciting a sharp inhale from the blonde. Yelena stiffens instantly, her face contorting in pain.

“Fuck Lena I’m sorry, I should— this is-“

Yelena grits her teeth, “it is fine” her tight jaw and shallow breaths tell a different story.

Kate’s guilt doubles as she watches Yelena carefully shift to find a less painful position, her movements deliberate. “Do you.. I’m—“

“Do not apologise again.” Yelena exhales deeply, forcing her body to relax despite the stabbing pain in her ribs. Her sharp green eyes soften, just a fraction, as they meet Kate’s. “Just… stay still. I am in a lot of pain.”

Kate nods, slightly taken aback by Yelena’s admission of pain; the moment of vulnerability. She manoeuvres herself fully onto the couch, stretching her legs out and allowing her body to sink into the cushions. It’s warm, warmer still with the heat radiating from the blonde. She tries not to make contact with the shorter woman, almost hanging off the edge.

Yelena adjusts slightly, her movements painstakingly slow. Her sharp inhale of breath slices through the quiet room, and Kate winces at the sound.

Some minutes pass this way, awkwardly hovering at the edge of the sofa. Until, Without thinking, Kate moves in slightly, her shoulder brushing against Yelena’s arm. The contact is fleeting, hesitant, but Yelena doesn’t pull away. Instead, her head tilts further, resting more fully against Kate’s shoulder.

Kate’s heart skips a beat, her breath catching as she glances down at the blonde. Yelena’s eyes are drooping, blinks becoming slower, her expression softer. The sight sends a pang of something indescribable through Kate’s chest—relief, maybe, or a quiet belief that things aren’t as irreparable as they seem.

“Is this okay?” Kate whispers, staring down at the head of blonde hair resting on her shoulder.

Yelena doesn’t answer right away, her breathing easing as her body relaxes further into Kate’s side. For a moment, Kate thinks she might have fallen asleep, but then Yelena murmurs, her voice low, almost reluctant. “Kate” her accent is thick with sleep, “you talk too much”

Kate lets out a soft, breathy laugh, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of Yelena’s voice, so raw and unguarded. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” she whispers back, tone gentle.

“Detka, спать

Yelena’s quiet murmur in Russian takes Kate by surprise, The endearment lingers in Kate’s ears, warming her in a way she hadn’t expected. She swallows hard, her throat tight with emotion, and allows herself to lean slightly closer to the blonde, careful not to disturb her.

“I don’t know what you said but, okay,” Kate whispers, barely audible, her voice cracking just enough to betray the relief bubbling in her chest.

Yelena surrenders, to Kate, to the cry of her body demanding rest. Despite her best efforts, she can’t stay away from the archer. She has time to weigh up what this means later on, but right now she needs this, safety. Her body is battered and bruised, pain almost unbearable, the taller woman offers a comfort that can’t be replicated. Love is letting go.

Yelena hums softly in response, her body settling further against Kate’s as if the archers words had been enough to ease some deep, invisible weight. Her breathing evens out, and Kate feels her own breaths begin to slow in time with the rhythm.

Kate lets her head rest lightly against the blonde’s. The rhythm of Yelena’s breathing is hypnotic, lulling her into a peace she hasn’t felt in what feels like forever. Her chest tightens with a strange mixture of gratitude, and sadness. This fragile moment feels like a truce—unspoken, tentative, but precious all the same.

Her thoughts drift. She knows there’s still much to fix, so much to say, but for the first time, she allows herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of healing.

And with that hope clinging to her like the faint scent of Yelena’s sandalwood and orange perfume, Kate finally lets herself begin to drift—safe, and just a little bit whole.

——-

18:24

Kate’s eyes flutter open, adjusting to the glow of the TV. There’s a weight on her chest, heavy, familiar.

Oh .

oh.

Yelena has somehow managed to wrap herself around Kate, head resting on the archers sternum. Arms wrapped around Kate’s midsection, their legs tangled together. The sight is both unexpected and heart-wrenchingly tender.

Kate doesn’t dare move, afraid to disturb Yelena or break whatever fragile truce this moment represents. The room is quiet except for the low hum of the TV and the plateau of Yelena’s breathing. Kate glances at the clock on her phone. It’s been almost six hours since they drifted off.

Sonya, must have entered at some point, and draped a duvet over them. Kate tries not to cry at the thought. She looks down at Yelena, the blonde is holding onto her with surprising force, given the broken bones; and heavily bruised body.

She allows herself to indulge in the comfort this brings, being entirely engulfed in Yelena, feeling the weight of the woman. She’s missed her girlfriend, beyond measure. This is a stark contrast to the icy cold room she’d been kept it, her prison. This is warmth, safety, love.

Because despite it all, Kate can undoubtedly tell that Yelena loves her. The blonde is still allowing her to stay here, to be in her space, her home.

Absentmindedly Kate reaches out, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair behind Yelena’s ear. “я тебя люблю” she breathes out, quieter than a whisper.

Her musing is interrupted by Sonya tentatively opening the living room door, and poking her head round the corner.

“Hi, Kamala called” Sonya’s eyes graze the pair, small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You talked?” She leans on the doorframe, folding her arms, her voice is low trying not to wake the blonde.

Kate hums, whispering her response. “Kinda” she tips her head back, looking at Sonya. “What did she say?”

Sonya steps fully into the room, her arms still crossed, though her expression softens as she takes in the sight of Yelena curled up against Kate. There’s a flicker of something unspoken in her eyes—relief, perhaps.

“She said Fisk’s legal team is already in full swing,” Sonya says, her voice low. “They’re trying to get him released on bail, claiming the evidence against him is—circumstantial.”

Kate’s brows furrow as her hand instinctively tightens around Yelena’s shoulder. “Of course they are,” she mutters. “He’s got half the city in his pocket.”

“He has much more than half the city in his pocket.” Sonya huffs, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. “Andreas and Valentina have gone underground. No sign of them” she rolls her eyes, dragging her hands down her face. “The mind control serum was one side of the coin. The next is far more difficult. Even with our new friends”

“Andreas?”

“Da. He will take Fisk’s place as Val’s right hand man. The difference is he is Red Room trained. Smarter, more deadly” Sonya rubs at her eyes, “it’s a matter of time before he makes a move. So far we have nothing on the super soldiers.”

Kate pulls her lips into a thin line.

They had an idea of what they were getting into with this, but it’s spiralled any which way. The mind control was one side of Val’s master plan, the super soldiers the other. Andreas himself is pumped full of super serum, based on the only interaction Kate’s had with him, he’s not one to hold back.

Right now their mission is to find shit that sticks to Fisk’s usual oil coated, duck back. Remove him completely from the equation, then they can take on the super soldier program.

“We have made good progress. But the hardest part is yet to come.” Sonya slowly rises, studying Yelena’s form. “When she is fit, we have a lot of work to do.”

Kate looks down at the blonde, instinctively pulling her closer, mindful of her ribs. Yelena groans, shifting slightly, before curling impossibly closer, exhaling softly.

“Do you know how defenceless we are when we sleep so deeply. I have killed many whilst they rested” Sonya blinks, gaze unwavering on Yelena.

“Uh“ Kate lifts her head, facing Sonya. “Wher-“

“In the red room, we lived our lives in survival mode. Up until recently. She would not sleep though the night, she’d wake at every noise”

Kate glances down at Yelena, the blonde’s face soft and unguarded, a rare sight that twists something deep in her. The warmth of the blondes body pressed so closely is grounding, but Sonya’s observation cracks the fragile veneer of this moment.

“What do you mean?” Kate asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sonya folds her arms, leaning against the doorframe. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, soften slightly, though her tone remains blunt. “Yelena doesn’t trust easily, Kate. Not even herself. Sleeping like this, so deeply, so vulnerably—it means something.”

Kate swallows hard, her gaze flickering back to Yelena. “She’s injured… Her body’s just… exhausted.”

“Partly,” Sonya concedes, though her tone suggests she doesn’t fully agree. “But it is also because you are here”

Kate’s throat tightens at the words, her fingers stilling on Yelena’s back. “She’s still so angry with me. I don’t know if she even wants me here.”

“We both know if she did not you would not be” Sonya sighs, smiling now. “She needs this. Consistent. Even if she does not know how to ask for it.” She makes her way to the door, “but please, convince her to move to a bed. I do not wish to hear her complaints about aching muscles”

Kate lets out a soft, breathy laugh. “I’ll do my best,” she murmurs, glancing back down at Yelena.

Sonya’s lips twitch into the faintest of smirks before she slips out, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Left alone again, Kate exhales deeply, her hand returning to Yelena’s back, fingers tracing light, soothing patterns. The weight of Sonya’s words press against her, heavy but grounding. Yelena needs her—not just as a partner in this fight, but as a presence, as something stable in the chaos of their lives.

The road ahead will be messy, uncertain, and full of challenges, but for now, this moment is enough.

“I’ll figure it out,” she whispers, brushing her lips against Yelena’s temple in the gentlest of touches. “We’ll figure it out.”

And for the first time since her capture, Kate allows herself to believe it.

Love Me Whole - Chapter 22 - ImAMarvelSimp (2025)

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