the distance between here and gone

by eauline

Summary:

For three years, Kate Bishop has loved Yelena Belova in silence. Best friends, partners, accidental roommates, and dangerously close to happiness, they existed in a fragile in-between built on unspoken rules and softer moments neither of them dared to name. But when Yelena suddenly disappears, the delicate balance of their world fractures. With no answers, no warning, and the past clawing its way back into the present, Kate is forced to face what it means to love someone who has always been one step from vanishing.

Chapter 1: How Midnight Finds Us

Notes:

While on my winter break from law school, I finally got around to writing (for fun)! This is one of my all time favorite ships that never died in my mind (I’ve pretty much given up on Marvel at this point, it’s tragic). You'll have to excuse any mistakes, as this is barely edited and my brain is still a bit fried from finals. This is set sometime in the future after Hawkeye, where Kate Bishop is a few years older and has gained some emotional maturity. Thunderbolts doesn't exist in my universe here (sorry, I didn't feel like tying in this plot). Both Kate and Yelena are lesbians in my world, and Yelena kept her long hair (because I said so).

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||  P A R T   I  ||

How Midnight Finds Us

 

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5:31 pm || May 5th, 2025. 

Kate Bishop didn’t know when it all began. 

No… she definitely couldn’t pinpoint when this weird, twisted relationship with a part assassin, part Black Widow, evolved into something more. It certainly hadn’t started with the heart-stopping moment on that cold rooftop when their eyes locked for the first time or the unsettling “girls-night” they had shortly after. Maybe it started with their half-assed fight (half-assed for Yelena, not Kate) at her mother’s Christmas party, but it probably started when Yelena broke into Kate’s newly renovated apartment weeks later, and they had those drinks. 

That was over three years ago, but even then, she couldn’t pinpoint when she fell in love.

It happened slowly, and perhaps she hadn’t realized exactly when she fell for Yelena because she’d never felt this way about anyone in her entire twenty-five years of life. All she knew was that it was somewhere between the late-night movies, small touches, and slightly-too-long stares. 

But that was neither here nor there, and if anyone ever asked how she truly felt about Yelena Belova, she would vehemently deny, deny, and deny that she was wholly and irrevocably in love with her best friend, slash roommate, slash coworker, slash partner in crime…     

And why is that? 

Well first, she didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Contrary to the famous Taylor Swift song, ruining the friendship is a terrible, no good, very bad idea when the friend you're in love with is someone you cannot possibly live without. 

It’s like the number one rule of being lesbian. 

Second, there was no possible way Yelena felt the same about her. Although they talked about everything under the sun—including Kate’s past relationships and Yelena’s lack of experience with relationships—her feelings were the one thing she couldn’t talk to Yelena about. 

But that was besides the point. 

There was simply no way Yelena felt the same about her. Her stunningly captivating, kind, and perfect best friend was so far out of her league that the idea was impossible… laughable, even. 

Coming home to Yelena after a long day at work was her favorite part of the day that she’d lose if she confessed to Yelena the one thing she’s kept secret for over three years now. She knew Yelena hadn’t figured out how she felt simply because Yelena would bolt if she realized the depth of Kate’s feelings. 

She could hear the sound of the dogs scurrying on the hardwood before she even slotted her key into the front door of the apartment and opened the door to the two fur-balls bounding excitedly towards her. She laughed as Lucky knocked into her knees and Fanny leaped over the Golden Retriever to shove her massive head into Kate’s hip. Her high heels nearly skidded out from underneath her. “Hello, my darlings,” she cooed to the dogs, kicking off her heels and stroking them adoringly. The apartment smelled entirely delicious, something garlic and something vaguely Eastern European, possibly paprika, and Kate’s heart thrummed in her chest when she saw Yelena standing in front of the stove, watching her closely. 

Act normal. 

But how could she act normal when Yelena was in her old archery shirt from Nationals so many years ago, her shorts short enough she could barely see the hem, and fuzzy socks. Her long, blonde hair was braided loosely over her shoulder, soft tendrils against her cheekbones, and Kate’s fingers twitched with the urge to brush them away from her beautiful face. 

“How is my good, little housewife?” She grinned, finally able to form a coherent thought. She resorted to sarcasm, only because it was safe. Predictable. Normal. Even if she couldn’t draw her eyes away from Yelena and her tan, bare legs. 

As the dogs pranced around her, she walked into the kitchen while shrugging off her coat and blazer, leaving her in the tight, black T-shirt she’d worn underneath.

Yelena scoffed and rolled those pretty, green eyes as she turned fully towards Kate. She leaned back against the countertop when Kate came to stand in front of her, intruding into Yelena’s space (which was perfectly normal for them, at least). “I was worried you got kidnapped walking home, and I would have to come find you… again.” Yelena smirked. 

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “That only happened like… twice… two years ago.” She said, gently shoving Yelena’s shoulder. However, Yelena reached out and caught her hand, their fingers tangling together.

“It better not happen again.” She retorted, her accent thick. 

“No promises,” Kate said as she stepped even closer. Their hips pressed together, and her chest tightened when Yelena pressed her forehead to her shoulder. She had to remind herself how to breathe. This was normal. Their normal. Ever since Yelena unofficially—officially—moved in over seven months ago, the small touches they shared escalated into more. It started innocently enough. A hand lingering at the small of Kate’s back when she passed behind Yelena in the kitchen. Knees knocking together on the couch during movie nights that somehow turned into reruns that neither of them actually watched. Falling asleep shoulder to shoulder on the couch, then waking up tangled in the morning, limbs heavy and familiar. 

None of it meant anything. 

Until it meant everything… to Kate. 

It took over a year and a half for Yelena to stop running every time they got too close. She once chalked it up to Yelena being guarded and elusive. Always half a step away from bolting. Whenever conversations dipped toward feelings or past trauma, whenever silence stretched a little too long or a touch lingered, a mission suddenly needed Yelena’s attention, and she would disappear. Sometimes for days, sometimes for months. 

It didn’t take long for Kate to realize Yelena was scared. Yelena was the bravest person she’d ever met (she’d never admit that to Clint), but allowing herself comfort and showing vulnerability? That terrified her more than anything. So Kate learned when to pull back, when to joke, when to pretend she hadn’t noticed the way Yelena’s fingers twitched like she wanted to reach out. She learned how to give Yelena space without making it feel like distance. She learned patience because Yelena deserved that much. Somewhere along the way, Yelena stopped running, and Kate had been shocked at how soft the Black Widow really was. 

Never weak. No. She was still all sharp edges and ice-cold efficiency when she was working, but at home? Yelena was gentle in a way Kate hadn’t expected from the woman who threw her off a rooftop. 

Yelena then started to stay for the quiet moments. She stayed curled into Kate’s side on the couch after talking about her life in Ohio, her relationship with Natasha, her “parents,” and the Red Room. She stayed listening to Kate talk about her dad, her turbulent relationship with her mother, and her connection to Clint. She stayed in the kitchen, barefoot and domestic, cooking dinner with Kate like it was the most natural thing in the world. She stayed until it became permanent, and Yelena was imploring Kate to let her pay the bills for the apartment (Kate never let her, but every once in a while, Yelena would find one of the invoices before Kate could pay it herself). 

That should have made things easier. 

But no. 

It made everything harder because, of course, Kate fell in love.

It wasn’t fair to Yelena. 

Kate knew that. Yelena trusted her not to want more. Trusted her not to turn every soft moment into something heavier, something loaded with meaning Yelena hadn’t named. She trusted Kate to be the one place she could exist without fear of expectation. So if loving Yelena meant carrying the weight alone, then Kate would do it. 

She would love her quietly. Safely. From behind a wall she built brick by brick out of denial and fear with the desperate hope that this—whatever this was—would be enough. 

Because if Kate ever said it out loud…

She wasn’t sure she’d survive Yelena running again anyway, and this time, she knew the Black Widow wouldn’t return. 

“How was work?” Yelena murmured, halting the spiral of Kate’s thoughts. 

She tipped her head up to look at Kate, and the dimmed kitchen light caught in her eyes, turning the green in them warmer. Softer. They were so close Kate could see the dusting of freckles across her nose, and her blonde eyelashes were free of mascara.

“So long and boring. I’m sick of doing paperwork.” She mused, mindlessly twisting her hands into the shirt Yelena wore. It was just recently that her work at Bishop Security became part-time. She was finally able to work more hours at S.H.I.E.L.D. after cleaning up the mess her mother made in the company Kate inherited. She split her time between Bishop Security, training with S.H.I.E.L.D., their new team of superheroes, and working from home whenever she could (especially when Yelena was home during the day). “But I’d rather hear about how you’re feeling.” 

“I am fine,” Yelena said automatically. Too quickly. 

Kate hummed, entirely unconvinced, and smiled down at her. Two days ago, Yelena had returned from a mission with a concussion after aiding another Black Widow. It was a minor concussion, according to her. Which meant it definitely wasn’t minor. “You say that every time you’re not fine.” 

“You sound like a therapist,” Yelena said, biting back a smile. 

Kate laughed. “You’re just pretending your skull is indestructible.”

Yelena made a low noise that might have been a laugh. Or a grumble. It was hard to tell with her face buried in Kate’s shoulder. “I have a very strong head.”

“Mm-hmm. World-class hard-headedness. Still concussed, though.” 

“My head hurts a little,” Yelena admitted quietly, like it was a secret. “Lights are annoying, but I haven’t done anything besides walk the dogs. I’ve been following Dr. Bishop’s orders.” 

Kate’s heart stuttered at the quiet confession. Lately, they had been coming more often: small acknowledgments of discomfort, a stomachache, her back hurting after a hard fall, or groaning about the flu Kate accidentally gave her because she wouldn’t leave Kate alone after she got sick. “As much as I love your cooking, let me finish dinner. You should rest, Lena.” 

“No, it’s pretty much done.” She shook her head, taking a step back from Kate when the dogs pushed between them. 

She dropped her hands from her shirt, though Yelena didn’t go far as she reached down to pet Lucky. “Then I want you to sit on the couch and not move until I’m done.” Kate grinned cheekily. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“Oh my god,” Kate started to mutter under her breath, but Yelena cut her off. 

“Now, hurry and go shower so we can eat.” 

Kate ignored her, leaning over her shoulder to look at the dishes on the stove. “What is it? It smells amazing.” She asked, but Yelena shoved her away gently. 

“You’ll just have to find out, глупая девчонка.” 

Kate tried the words on her tongue after translating them in her mind. Her pronunciation was nearly as precise as it should be. She understood more Russian than she could speak, but she was certainly improving. “Глупая девчонка? Really? You’re just throwing insults at me now?” 

Yelena smirked, tilting her head. The faintest curve of a smile played on her lips. “I’ll start calling you worse things if you don’t listen.” 

“I’m only listening this time because I’m hungry,” Kate said, lingering a moment longer, watching the easy way Yelena moved around the kitchen like she belonged there. Like she belonged here with Kate. The thought settled heavy and warm in her chest, terrifying and comforting all at once. 

“Hurry up, or it gets cold. I swear, if you’re late, I’m eating without you.” Yelena called. 

“Okay, okay. I’m going.” Kate grinned. 

As she finally turned toward her bedroom upstairs, she cursed under her breath. 

This. This was exactly why she could never tell Yelena.

Because she had everything to lose.

 

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12:46 pm || September 15, 2025.  

Katie Kate 🏹: where r u lenaaaa

Yel B 🖤: I’m leaving now! 

Yel B 🖤: You’re so impatient. Be there in 10 mins

 

Katie Kate 🏹: hurry i’m starving. 

Katie Kate 🏹: i wouldn’t be impatient if u were faster 

Katie Kate 🏹: u r just slow 

 

Yel B 🖤: Omg. You’re impatient af. I’m never late. 

Yel B 🖤: See you soon KB x 

Kate’s heart jumped in her chest when she read Yelena’s message. Was she reading too much into the “x” as a sign-off? Probably. Yelena had been texting that for months now. Nonetheless, it still didn’t taper the gay panic that sparked within her. She stared at her phone too long, thumb hovering uselessly over the screen as if a perfect, casual response might materialize if she waited long enough. It didn’t. Eventually, she locked the screen to the photo of Yelena cuddling with the dogs in Kate’s bed, dropped the phone to her desk, and dragged a hand down her face. 

Get it together, Bishop. 

She checked the time on her computer: 12:47 pm. She and Yelena were meeting for lunch because Yelena had finished training early, and Kate had a rare break between meetings. Totally normal. Friendly. It was absolutely not something Kate had been thinking about all morning since she reluctantly left home, where Yelena had been seated at the counter working on her laptop.  

She stood, smoothed down her blazer for no real reason, then immediately tugged it off again because she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. The blue blouse she’d worn underneath was just fine considering Yelena saw her in pajamas every day. She compromised by rolling the sleeves up her forearms and tried to focus on the document—albeit unsuccessfully—that she was reviewing before Yelena texted her. 

Her phone buzzed after what felt like forever. 

Yel B 🖤: I’m here. 

Kate’s heart lurched traitorously; it was clearly not her own anymore. 

Katie Kate 🏹: be right there

Katie Kate 🏹: don’t scare my employees

Yel B 🖤: No promises.

Kate huffed a laugh, grabbed her phone and keys, and headed for the elevator. The truth was that her employees liked Yelena more than her anyway. The descent felt longer than it actually was, her nerves buzzing under her skin as the numbers ticked down. She straightened her shoulders as the doors slid open and stepped into the pristine lobby of Bishop Security.  

Yelena was leaning casually against the reception desk, one elbow braced on the polished surface as Kate’s receptionist, Madison, conversed animatedly with her. Her posture was loose and familiar in a way that made Kate’s chest ache as her entire world centered on Yelena, eternally pulled into her orbit. She was dressed casually, with her gym bag slung over her shoulder and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Kate registered workout clothes and unfairly beautiful, and then…  

“Kate,” Madison said brightly, spotting her. “Perfect timing.” 

Yelena turned at the sound of her name, her expression softening the second she saw Kate. “Hi,” Yelena said, easy and familiar. Her gaze flicked over Kate to her rolled-up sleeves, her expression entirely unreadable, before settling back on her face. 

Kate grinned, the corner of her mouth tugging up. “Hey. You come here often, or is today a special occasion?” She asked, immediately intruding into Yelena’s space as she slid up next to her. 

Yelena huffed out a quiet laugh. “Only when I am promised food.”

“Wow,” Kate said, placing a hand over her heart. “And here I thought you came to see me.” 

“I can see you at home,” Yelena replied dryly, but her eyes were warm.

Madison cleared her throat, swiveling in her chair to face them both. “Okay, sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but are you two aware you’re matching today?” 

Kate shrugged. “We are?” 

Madison gestured between them. “Blue. Both of you. Same shade, even. It’s kind of adorable.” 

Kate looked down at herself in her blue top, the sleeves rolled to her elbows, then back up at Yelena, who was wearing a nearly identical blue workout top. She let out a surprised laugh.

Yelena glanced down at her own clothes, then shrugged, completely unbothered. “It is a good color.” 

Madison’s smile turned positively wicked. She tapped a few keys on her keyboard, glancing between them. “Great, just so I know,” she said lightly, “my coworkers and I have been wondering, when’s the wedding? We need to know if we’re invited too.” 

Yelena laughed, playing the comment off more casually than Kate ever could. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she said, cool and composed, though the faintest smirk tugged at her lips. “We haven’t even sent out invitations yet.” 

Madison grinned. “Come on, Yelena. Don’t pretend you don’t love Kate more than anyone else here.” 

“Yeah, every once in a while, I’ll buy her lunch.” Yelena quipped.  

“Madison, don’t bully my future wife,” Kate smiled, her eyes sparkling as she draped an arm around Yelena’s shoulders. 

Yelena’s reaction was immediate, surprising, and utterly spectacular.

Color crept up Yelena’s neck and brightened her cheeks. Kate laughed. Bright, delighted, and a little stunned. “You’re blushing.” She said, leaning her face close to Yelena’s. 

“I am not,” Yelena protested, lifting a hand to her face. It did nothing to hide the pink that was only brightening. Her accent was so thick that her words were difficult for even Kate to understand. 

Kate’s laughter softened into something fond and incredulous. She couldn’t remember the last time she got Yelena like this, caught off guard, flustered, and human in the most endearing way. “Come, my love. Let me save you from my cruel secretary.” She said, looping her arm through Yelena’s and tugging her toward the door, ignoring Madison’s amused snicker from behind the desk. 

Yelena rolled her eyes, though a faint smile at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. 

They exited the building and started walking toward their usual lunch spot, a small, tucked-away café just a few blocks from Bishop Security. It wasn’t fancy, but it was quiet, cozy, and had the best homemade pastries in the city. More importantly, it was their spot, where they could talk about everything, nothing, and sometimes everything they weren’t supposed to say to other people. 

“Grills asked if we are still coming tonight to celebrate the anniversary of his firehouse,” Yelena said, pressing closer to Kate’s side. It sent an electric thrill through her chest. 

“Yes, as long as you still want to go,” Kate replied, reaching to open the café door for Yelena, but the Black Widow beat her to it first. 

“I do. Your friends are very nice.” Yelena said, stepping inside after Kate. 

Grills had begged Yelena to train him after watching her spar with Kate, and of course, Kate was absolutely crushed by her. However, Kate had been surprised when Yelena agreed. After all, she was a Black Widow. Even though Yelena was close to Kate’s friends, and Kate knew all the other Widows she had helped over the years, this was still Yelena: dangerous, lethal, and untouchable. Yet here she was, training Grills, who Kate had heard was unbeatable while LARPing now.  

What surprised Kate even more was that Yelena didn’t go to the gym nearly as often as she would have expected from a Black Widow. She supposed Yelena didn’t have to, unlike Kate, who went almost every day. However, when Yelena trained, there was nothing like it. Sexy, yes, in that effortless way, but also impossible to look away from. She’d never seen anyone move, strike, or counter with such deadly precision. Every motion was controlled, every hit deliberate, and the way Yelena flowed through it all made Kate’s chest tighten with a mixture of disbelief and admiration every time she saw Yelena work. She just tried not to think about the trauma Yelena endured in the Red Room and why she was the way she was. It made sense that outside missions, Yelena chose to live differently. She chose quiet mornings with coffee, the occasional walks, cooking meals, and lounging with the dogs… those small, deliberate moments of calm were Yelena’s choice. The life she wanted to live. 

Kate was utterly in awe that Yelena let her into the quiet corner of her life. To know both sides—the unstoppable, lethal Black Widow and the woman who allowed herself peace—was a privilege Kate didn’t take lightly. Yelena had fought for every piece of control and calm in her life, and somehow, she let Kate be a part of it. 

“Where did your mind go?” Yelena asked. There was no pressure behind it, only the kind of easy familiarity that came from knowing someone inside and out. Her elbow brushed lightly against Kate’s as she spoke. “Do you not want to go to Grills’ place?” 

“No, I do. We’re going.” Kate said quickly, shaking her head as she smiled at Yelena, and they stepped into line together. 

Later that evening, the firehouse was loud in the way only a celebration full of firefighters could be, boisterous laughter echoing off brick walls, music thumping just a little too loud from someone’s speaker, and the constant clink of bottles and red plastic cups being refilled. Strings of warm lights were strung across the open space, casting everything in a soft amber glow that made the concrete space inviting. 

Yelena had already settled on one of the worn couches lining the firehouse wall, a beer in her hand as she passionately discussed something in rapid Russian with one of the off-duty firefighters, Sergey, who had immigrated from Russia. Her free hand moved as she spoke, sharp and animated. 

Kate sat on the floor between Yelena’s knees, her back leaning comfortably against Yelena’s legs. She was only half-aware of the conversation happening behind her. They were speaking Russian faster than Kate could ever hope to translate, but she smiled faintly when Yelena suddenly laughed at something Sergey said. 

Kate was half-turned toward Grills, who’d dropped down to sit across from her. 

“I’m serious,” Grills said, shaking his head. “If they move me to the ladder again, I’m filing a formal complaint.” 

Kate scoffed. “You filed a ‘formal complaint’ last time because they ran out of oat milk.”

“That was a valid issue.”

Kate laughed, tipping her head back against Yelena’s thigh as she looked at Grills. “You are a grown man. I’m sure you can drink real milk.” 

Grills leaned back on his hands, eyes flicking briefly upward before returning to Kate. “So,” he said casually, “you ever gonna let me win at darts, or is that a personal vendetta?” 

Kate grinned. “I don’t even let Yelena or Clint win.” 

Grills laughs. “That’s harsh!” 

“Truth hurts,” Kate shot back easily. 

Behind her, Yelena shifted forward like she was about to stand. Her hand landed on Kate’s shoulder, apologizing as Kate was jostled. “I am going to get another beer,” Yelena said.

Kate reacted without thinking. She reached back, her hand landing lightly on Yelena’s knee to stop her from getting up. “I’ve got it,” Kate said, looking up over her shoulder. 

For once in her life, Yelena listened. She smiled, genuine and soft. “Okay,” Yelena said, settling back against the couch. “Thank you, Kate Bishop.” 

Kate grinned, withdrawing her hand and pushing herself to her feet. “Don’t get used to it.” 

She threaded through the crowd to the make-shift bar and was flagged down by some of Grills’ LARPing friends. She laughed as one of them waved a bottle toward her and launched into a dramatic retelling of last week’s LARP, complete with exaggerated sword swings and theatrical groans. By the time she finally snagged two beers, she realized a few minutes had slipped by. Turning back toward the couch, she caught the tail end of a conversation between Yelena and Grills, just enough to hear Yelena say in a voice that was calm but firm, like it was simply a fact, “... she’ll meet someone she deserves, and then she will realize I am simply taking up space in her apartment.” 

Grills scoffed. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Kate frowned. The words didn’t land right. There were too many missing pieces with too much noise around them. She shifted her grip on the bottles, the glass cold against her palms. 

Grills opened his mouth to argue again, then stopped when he spotted Kate. His expression flickered… caught.

“What are you talking about?” Kate asked, setting the beers down on the small table in front of the couch. 

Yelena glanced at her, entirely unbothered. “Nothing important. Grills is just wrong.” 

“Mm… alright,” Kate said, letting it drop for now. She’d ask about it later at home when she could read Yelena without half a dozen distractions. 

Grills huffed at Yelena’s response but wisely held his tongue. 

Without thinking too hard about it and a little help from the alcohol in her system, she plopped down beside Yelena, but misjudged her landing and almost ended up squarely in her lap. “You’re so heavy.” Yelena let out a long, dramatic whine as Kate shifted off her, and they settled side by side. 

Kate laughed. “You kick my ass all the time. Don’t be such a wimp.” She teased, shifting her leg against Yelena’s. 

“Stop moving before you crush me,” Yelena said, slapping her hand on Kate’s thigh. 

Kate grinned as she reached for an unopened beer bottle. 

Yelena’s eyes immediately narrowed, sharp and warning. “Don’t you dare, Kate Bishop.”

Kate laughed softly, leaning a little closer. “Come on… you were impressed the first time I did this. Don’t act like you weren’t.” 

“The first time I was horrified,” Yelena shot back, trying to take the bottle from Kate. 

“You’re just saying that,” Kate teased, moving out of Yelena’s reach and angling the bottle towards her mouth. Her heart thumped a little faster. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was being this close to Yelena. 

It was definitely the latter.  

Grills, who had been watching with far too much attention, groaned. “You’re going to look ridiculous with a chipped tooth, Bishop. I’ve seen this before.” 

Kate waved him off with a dramatic flick of her wrist. “Please. It’s iconic. This has never failed before.” 

She remembered the first time she’d done this trick in front of Yelena—popping a beer bottle open with nothing but her teeth. Yelena had been leaning casually against the counter, eyes wide, mouth half-open in that rare expression Kate only saw a handful of times. She hadn’t said anything, just a soft whistle under her breath, but Kate remembered it like a badge of honor.

Yelena had been impressed. 

Now, Yelena worried more than anything else and stopped Kate whenever she tried to do her infamous party trick. 

Except Kate was faster this time as she hooked the bottle cap against her teeth.

It slipped. 

There was a sharp crack that was not her teeth—fortunately—but the glass bottle cracking, followed by a sting along her jaw.  

She pressed a hand to her face and froze. “Shit,” Kate hissed, then laughed instinctively, startled more than hurt. “Okay, that one doesn’t count.” She said as blood began to drip down her shirt.  

Grills winced. “Jesus Christ, Bishop.” 

Yelena was on her feet in an instant, leaning over Kate worriedly. Kate’s heart pounded as Yelena pulled her off the couch and cupped her face. “I told you not to do that.” Yelena mumured, shaking her head. “This is a lot of blood.”  

Grills ran a hand through his hair and muttered, “Yelena… if you take her to the bathroom, I’ll grab the first aid kit.” 

“You guys are overreacting. I’m fine.” Kate laughed. Although she would never admit aloud that there was more blood than she envisioned.  

Yelena didn’t respond, wrapping her arm around Kate’s waist and leading her to the restroom in the quiet hallway. She pushed open the door, ushering Kate inside as she flicked on the light. There was a deep gash along Kate’s jawline, blood dripping down her neck. She looked ridiculous, and if she wasn’t drunk, she would’ve been wholly embarrassed by the abrupt turn of events.     

“Sit down,” Yelena commanded, but there was no harshness. She sounded too worried to be cruel as she pressed a hand to Kate’s shoulder until she sat on the closed toilet lid. She grabbed handfuls of paper towels and pressed them to the gash, her eyes never leaving Kate’s face. 

Kate’s heart did a little flip. “I think you just like bossing me around.” She grinned, ignoring the sting.   

“You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. What if the glass cut your neck? I do not know why you do the things that you do.” 

To impress you, Kate thought to herself. 

At that moment, Grills appeared in the doorway, his arms full of a large first aid kit, clearly trying to suppress a grin. “I brought reinforcements,” he said, setting the kit down beside Yelena. He then leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. “I swear, you are something else, Bishop.” He muttered. 

“You’re not helping,” Yelena said, shooting him a look over her shoulder. She grabbed a small bottle of antiseptic from the first-aid kit and shook it lightly. “Hold still,” she said, tilting Kate’s head to inspect the cut. 

Kate’s lips pressed together when she felt the sting of the antiseptic. She whined softly. 

“That sounded suspiciously like complaining for someone who did this to herself,” Yelena remarked, raising an eyebrow as she dabbed the antiseptic gently over the wound. She leaned in closer, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from Kate’s forehead. 

Even like this, fussing over her, Yelena was breathtaking. 

“That trick has gotten me laid before.” 

Kate’s words made Yelena pause for a fraction of a second, the faintest flicker of something, irritation, maybe surprise, crossing her green eyes before she masked it expertly. “I am sure it has,” she said smoothly as Grills coughed into his arm. 

Kate smirked. “You’re taking this way too seriously, Lena. It’s just a little blood.” 

“That’s a damn deep cut.” Grills murmured, leaning over Yelena’s shoulder to look closer at Kate.  

“Luckily, it is not deep enough to need stitches,” Yelena said. She dabbed more antiseptic over the cut and gently blew on it, a soft exhale taking the sting away. Kate was overwhelmingly aware of how close Yelena was, but she still wasn’t close enough. 

She then pulled out a small, sterile gauze pad and applied it over the wound, securing it with a strip of medical tape. Her movements were meticulous, precise, and her focus never wavered from Kate’s face. “You are forbidden from doing anything dumb for the rest of the night.” She said, tapping Kate’s nose with her finger before she began working on cleaning the blood from Kate’s neck and collarbone. 

“Let me get a spare sweatshirt. You’ve ruined the shirt you’re wearing.” Grills chuckled, disappearing from the bathroom. He reappeared a moment later, holding out a grey sweatshirt like a peace offering. “Consider this a courtesy from your friendly neighborhood fireman, as long as you don’t do that bottle trick again.” 

“No promises,” Kate grinned, snatching it from him before he could take it back.  

She tugged the hem of her bloodstained shirt over her head in one smooth motion, the fabric peeling away to reveal the black sports bra underneath. Cool air hit her skin, and she shook the shirt out once before tossing it in the trash can. 

Grills made a disgruntled noise. “You have zero shame.”

“I’m wearing more clothing than I do at the gym,” Kate shot back, already shoving her arms into the oversized sweatshirt he’d handed her. It swallowed her whole, the sleeves dangling past her wrists. She glanced up just in time to catch Yelena deliberately looking away, eyes fixed anywhere but Kate. She reached out without thinking, her fingers sliding into Yelena’s hand and lacing together easily, like muscle memory. Yelena stiffened for half a second, but she didn’t pull away. 

“Come on,” Kate said, giving her hand a gentle tug. “If we stay in here any longer, Grills is gonna start asking me to fill out an incident report.” 

Grills snorted. “I already mentally filed one.” 

Kate dragged them both toward the door before Yelena could argue, the music and noise from the firehouse swelling as soon as they stepped back into the main room.

“What happened to your face?” Someone asked immediately. 

Kate barely got two steps in before Grills’ friends descended like vultures.

“She tried to open a bottle with her teeth,” Grills announced loudly.

A collective chorus of groans followed. 

“Again?”

“Bishop, you are unbelievable.”

Sergey passed Kate and Yelena fresh beers—already opened—and raised his own beer. “To Kate Bishop,” they declared. “For surviving her own stupidity.”

“And to Yelena,” another added, laughing, “for keeping her alive.”

Kate lifted her bottle in salute. “I’d be dead without her.” 

Yelena shot her a look, and they eventually moved back to the couch. Kate settled comfortably at Yelena’s side, and the music softened, conversations overlapping into a warm, chaotic hum.  She felt the dull throb of the cut along her jaw, but with Yelena beside her, nothing else really mattered. 

For tonight, Yelena was here. She was close. She was staying, and as the party carried on around them, Kate let herself believe that that would always be enough.

 

---

 

9:02 am || December 18th, 2025. 

“That was so fucking ridiculous, Yelena!” Kate shouted, resisting the urge to shake her best friend lying on the table in front of her. 

There was so much blood—too much blood. It was nauseating. Usually, Kate wasn’t bothered by it. It was part of the job, occasionally shooting people and all.

Except, this wasn’t. Yelena taking a shot for her wasn't part of their arrangement, and it wasn’t what they agreed upon when they carried out missions together. 

The S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital room was chaos, and Clint was still shouting into her comm, but all Kate could see was Yelena. Pale. Too quiet. Her tactical suit Kate ripped open in the field was dark with blood, soaking through whatever dressings Kate managed to put on before she demanded immediate extraction. The bullet had gone clean through Yelena’s right side before Kate even realized Yelena had shoved her to the ground, taking the bullet meant for Kate. The shooter went down seconds later, an arrow buried precisely between his eyes. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Her world narrowed to the way Yelena knelt to her knees beside Kate, her hand instinctively covering her side and coming away dark with blood as Kate caught her before she collapsed onto the concrete. 

“You were not looking,” Yelena said so quietly Kate hardly realized she was speaking. “You would have been hit.” She went quiet as a doctor put more pressure on her side, her eyelashes fluttering as her face twisted with pain. 

Kate blinked the tears from her eyes as she squeezed Yelena’s hand, running her other hand up and down her arm soothingly. “So?” The word tore out of Kate before she could stop it. “So you get shot instead of me?” 

Yelena frowned, like the answer was obvious. “Yes.”

Kate shook her head, breathing coming too fast. She thought she might throw up hearing the sound of Yelena’s blood dripping on the tile floor. “You don’t get to decide that.” 

“I already did,” she said. 

Kate was only slightly impressed with Yelena’s ability to roll her eyes, given the state she was in. 

More doctors crowded around them, and someone cut away the rest of Yelena’s suit, scissors slicing through expensive fabric. Another voice called out her vitals, and a monitor began to beep dreadfully slow until alarms began to sound. 

“BP’s dropping quickly.” 

“Get another line in.”

“She’s losing too much blood. We need to prep her for surgery.” 

Hands gripped Kate’s shoulders, urging her to stand from where she had knelt beside Yelena. “Agent Bishop, I need you to take a step back.” 

She moved to stand and didn’t object because Yelena’s safety always came first. Kate couldn’t be the one to save her in this situation. Her fingers lingered briefly on Yelena’s hand before she let go, though she couldn’t help the squeeze she gave at the last second. 

Suddenly, Yelena sat up despite the doctors shouting at her to lie back and stay still. She moved too quickly before anyone could grab her hands as she ripped off the oxygen mask that was put on her face and tore the IV line from her arm, sparking fresh panic throughout the room. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.” Yelena’s voice cracked as her hands clutched at the table. 

Kate lurched forward instinctively, her chest tightening as adrenaline and terror collided in a way that left her breathless. Her heart hammered so violently she was sure everyone in the room could hear. Every rational thought—every training drill, every calculation—faded into static because this wasn’t a mission. This was Yelena. Sharp, unyielding, invincible in the field and yet here, she was delicate, scared, human. Frightened in a way Kate had never seen before, and she would’ve given everything to trade places with her. 

“Shh… it’s okay.” She tried to assure her, despite the way her voice trembled. “Yelena, lie back, okay? Just lie down. Breathe with me.” She said, pressing close and guiding her to lie back down. “You’re safe, I promise.” She grabbed her hands, and she wasn’t sure who was shaking harder as she leaned over Yelena, pressing as close as she physically could. Yelena’s eyes closed as she began to settle again, and a nurse carefully pushed between them to refit the mask over her face before fixing the IV in her arm. 

Behind them, she could hear the doctors beginning to argue, their voices low but tense, clipped with urgency. “We can’t have civilians while doing surgery! She could get in the way, contaminate…” 

“She’ll stay calm with Kate here. If we sedate her too much, she’s going to crash. Let her stay while we put her under, then make sure she’s there when Belova wakes up.” 

There was more chatter she didn’t register until a hand touched her shoulder again. She tensed, and so did Yelena. She wasn’t moving away this time, no matter their demands.  

“Come sit here. We’re going to put her under anesthesia with you here. You can go get cleaned up while she’s in surgery, and then before we wake her up, we’ll bring you back into the room. I’m not fighting a Black Widow if she wakes up in a panic.” A doctor said as he pulled a chair to the front of the table by Yelena’s head. 

She nodded in agreement, sitting in the chair he gestured to. Yelena’s eyes opened to watch her, glassy but sharp, tracking Kate’s every movement like she was afraid she might disappear if she blinked. 

Kate leaned forward immediately, and her hands curled around Yelena’s. “Hey,” she whispered, voice breaking despite her best efforts. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. They’re going to put you under for surgery soon, and you’re going to be fine.” She didn’t know if she was reassuring Yelena or herself. 

Yelena swallowed, her throat bobbing, as the oxygen mask fogged faintly with each shallow breath. She said something, but Kate didn’t hear what it was with the beeping monitors and the doctors moving around them. 

The anesthesiologist came to stand beside Kate, her voice gentle when she spoke. “Yelena, I’m going to give you something to help you sleep. Your body will feel heavy, but that’s normal. Just keep breathing.” The woman said, beginning to push medication through the IV. 

Yelena’s gaze never left Kate’s face. Her fingers clung to Kate, and she realized—devastatingly—that this was the most afraid she had ever seen her. She stroked her thumb over the back of Yelena’s hand in slow, deliberate passes, counting them in her head to keep herself steady. One. Two. Three. The monitors continued their relentless beeping, but she focused on the warmth beneath her fingers, on the fact that Yelena was still here. Alive. Yelena’s eyelids fluttered, the tension in her face lessening as the medication began to take hold. Her grip slackened, just a fraction, and Kate’s heart lurched violently. She leaned closer without thinking, her free hand coming up to brush hair back from Yelena’s forehead. 

Yelena’s eyelashes trembled as the medication began to pull her under. Her grip on Kate’s hand slackened, her breathing growing uneven. It was enough to make Kate’s heart slam painfully against her ribs. 

Then suddenly, Yelena jerked, a sharp inhale tearing from her chest as her eyes snapped open. Her gaze was unfocused, pupils blown wide as her body tensed instinctively. Her muscles strained like she was about to sit up again, and panic crashed over her features. 

“You’re okay,” Kate said firmly, rising halfway from the chair so she could lean over her. One hand stayed clasped with Yelena’s, the other coming up to rest against her shoulder. “It’s just the medication.” 

Yelena’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face as her chest rose and fell too fast. She didn’t speak this time, just stared at Kate like she was trying to orient herself, to understand where she was. 

Kate softened her voice. “That’s it. Look at me.” She murmured when Yelena’s gaze flickered to the anesthesiologist pushing another vial of medication. Kate tried to smile when Yelena looked back at her, but she was sure it was more of a grimace. “You’re in the hospital. You’re hurt, but they’re fixing it. Nothing bad is happening right now.”  

The tension in Yelena’s shoulders eased. “That’s good,” Kate whispered, forehead dipping closer without touching hers. “You’re doing great, Lena. You can rest. I’ve got you.”  

Yelena’s eyelashes fluttered, still fighting the medication before she finally gave in. Her grip loosened again, this time slack and heavy. Her breathing settled into a slow, even rhythm as sleep reclaimed her. Kate caught her head before she fell back against the table, gently easing her down. 

“I need to put a breathing tube in.” The anesthesiologist said as she firmly pulled Kate back to begin her work. “She’s strong and clearly stubborn. She’ll be okay.” 

Kate nodded and moved out of the way. It was beyond her control, and she knew the woman was right. Yelena was the strongest person she’d ever known, and she would be okay. She had to be. She forced herself to loosen her grip, fingers reluctant as they slipped from Yelena’s hand. She hesitated just long enough to brush her thumb once more over Yelena’s knuckles. “I’ll be right outside,” Kate murmured, knowing she couldn’t hear her now but needing to say it anyway. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

The doctors moved with practiced efficiency, voices calm as they adjusted equipment and repositioned Yelena’s body. They were not as frantic as before, and it was conceivably the only thing that kept Kate from falling apart. “Come with me. You can get cleaned up, and we’ll get you before we wake her from surgery.” A nurse said, guiding her towards the door. 

The hallway outside the room was too bright. Too sterile. Too empty.

She barely made it three steps before her knees threatened to give out beneath her, and she leaned back against the wall.  

“Kate!” 

Clint’s voice cut through the fog in her head, and then he was there, running down the hallway. His bow was slung haphazardly over his shoulder with worry etched deep into his face. He didn’t hesitate. The moment he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in hard. 

Kate let out a broken sound she didn’t recognize as her own and clutched at the back of his jacket, her forehead pressing into his chest. The adrenaline drained out of her system all at once, leaving her shaking. 

“Are you okay, kid?” Clint asked, seemingly to realize just then that she was covered in blood. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s not my blood.” The words sounded hollow, even to herself. 

Clint pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still firm on her shoulders. His eyes tracked over her face, checking for injuries out of pure instinct before dropping to the blood soaking her gloves, her sleeves, the front of her shirt. His jaw tightened. “She took a hit meant for you,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question. 

“She jumped in front of me. She pushed me out of the way and got shot instead. I didn’t even see the shooter until I was on the ground.” Kate sobbed. She knew this was all her fault. If she’d been paying closer attention, she could’ve put an arrow through the shooter before Yelena moved. The thought looped cruelly in her mind. “I should’ve seen the sniper,” Kate choked. “I should’ve… I train for this. I’m not supposed to miss things like that, Clint.” 

His grip tightened on her shoulders. “Hey,” he said firmly. “You didn’t fail. You got ambushed by someone who knew what they were doing. Shit happens on missions, Kate. This is part of the job.”

“She still got shot because of me,” Kate whispered. Her voice fractured on the word shot. “I would’ve taken that bullet.” 

Clint exhaled slowly, carefully choosing every word. “Yelena made a choice,” he corrected. “She was thinking the same as you are now.”  

She squeezed her eyes shut, fresh tears spilling over. That almost made it worse. Because Clint was right. Yelena hadn’t hesitated. She hadn’t calculated odds or weighed consequences. She’d just moved… instinctive, decisive, absolute. “She was scared in there,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her throat tightened. “Clint… she was so scared. I’ve never seen her like that.”

“Natasha was the same. She hated doctors. It’s trauma from the Red Room, but they are the best in the world here, and Yelena is more stubborn than you. She will be fine, I promise.” He tried to reassure her. Even though it didn’t work, she appreciated his attempt. 

They stood there in silence, Kate’s shirt clung to her skin, stiff with drying blood. She felt grimy, wrong, like she didn’t belong anywhere except in that room with Yelena.

Another nurse approached them. “Agent Bishop, we have a private room where you can get cleaned up.” She said, handing Kate a clean pair of S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued sweats. 

Kate hesitated. Her first instinct was to refuse. “I don’t want to leave her.”

“You’re not,” the nurse assured her. “You’ll be just down the hall. We’ll come get you before she wakes up, I promise.” 

Kate looked to Clint, panic flickering across her face like a reflex.

He nodded once. “Go,” he said gently. “I’ll stay right here.

“Don’t let them move her without telling me where they are taking her.”

“They won’t,” he promised. “And if they try, I’ll shoot something… someone.”

Kate trusted Clint and reluctantly turned away from him to follow the nurse down the hallway. The mission had been going according to plan. It was easy, almost too easy, even though the assignment had been flagged high-risk from the beginning, which was the only reason Clint had been there at all. 

Kate had teased him about it on the quinjet, something about him being “too old for this shit,” but the truth was, she’d been relieved when she saw his name on the roster. The intel suggested a professional crew: former mercenaries, military-grade weapons, layered escape routes. Not amateurs. The kind of operation that went sideways fast. 

They were almost done.

That was the part that made it unbearable.

They’d cleared the exterior without incident, slipped through the compound cleanly. Clint had taken overwatch while Yelena and Kate moved inside, quiet and precise. They’d disabled the target’s security, secured the intel drive, and were moving to extract. Five minutes, maybe less. Kate remembered thinking—stupidly, foolishly—that it had gone too smoothly. 

No one saw the sniper reposition, besides Yelena. The best of them all.  

One second, she was scanning the adjacent rooftop, adjusting her stance, breathing steady. The next, Yelena was there, solid and sudden, slamming into her hard enough to knock her flat as the shot rang out. 

Now, walking down the fluorescent hallway of the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical wing, the memory replayed. Every detail was sharpened by guilt. 

They stopped in front of a nondescript door, far quieter than the trauma bay. The nurse keyed in a code and ushered her inside. The room was small but private with tile floors, a bench along one wall, a stainless-steel sink, and a frosted glass divider with a shower. It was clean, clinical. The kind of place designed to scrub the worst days off agents before they could fully process them. 

“Take your time,” the nurse said. “I’ll be right outside.” 

“Okay,” she managed, though it came out hoarse.

The door clicked shut, and suddenly Kate was alone.

The silence was immediate and crushing.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment. Her face was pale, eyes red-rimmed. There was blood everywhere… on her hands, under her nails, smeared across her cheek where she must’ve touched her face without realizing it. 

She turned on the shower before she could think too hard about the fact that it was Yelena’s blood. 

The water was hot, almost too hot, but she welcomed the sting. She peeled off her clothes slowly, like moving too fast might finally shatter whatever fragile hold she still had on herself. As the water hit her skin, the blood began to wash away in pink rivulets, spiraling down the drain. 

Her shoulders slumped as the adrenaline drained out of her completely.

Kate braced her hands against the tile and bowed her head, letting the water pound against her back. Her chest ached with the effort of breathing. Every image replayed in her mind: Yelena going down, the blood, her eyes when she begged Kate not to leave. 

She fought the urge to crumble completely, and by the time she changed into clean clothes, her hands had stopped shaking… mostly. She followed the nurse back to the hallway, where Clint was pacing, coffee in his hand. 

“They’re still operating,” he said immediately. “Stable so far, and everything is going to plan.”

Kate nodded, sinking into a chair by the door to the room where Yelena lay. The adrenaline was gone now, leaving exhaustion and fear in its wake. Minutes stretched into something amorphous and heavy, time losing all meaning as the clock on the wall ticked forward with cruel indifference. Clint paced when he couldn’t sit, and Kate stayed in the chair. Her spine was straight, hands clasped so tightly together her fingers ached. She didn’t look at her phone. She didn’t check the time again. Every second not spent watching the door felt like tempting fate. 

The hospital hummed around them with muffled footsteps, distant voices, and the occasional cart rolling past, but it all blurred into background noise. Kate’s entire world had narrowed to that closed door. 

Internal bleeding, the doctor had said earlier. Controlled now. Managed. Words that should’ve been reassuring but lodged in her chest like glass. 

She was dimly aware of Clint placing a cup of coffee into her hands at some point. She didn’t remember taking a sip.

Eventually… finally… the door opened. 

One of the doctors stepped out, her mask lowered, with her surgical cap still on her head. Her eyes were tired but calm, and Kate clung to that detail with everything she had. “The surgery went well. There was more internal bleeding than we initially thought,” the doctor continued, measured and precise. “The bullet caused damage on entry and exit, but we were able to repair everything. She lost a significant amount of blood, but she’s stable now.” 

Stable. 

Kate pressed her hand to her chest, steadying herself. “She’s okay?”

“She’s okay,” the doctor confirmed. “We’re going to start bringing her out of anesthesia in a few minutes. She was calmer knowing you were there before, so we’d like you to come sit with her again.” 

Kate didn’t trust herself to speak. She just nodded, blinking rapidly as relief threatened to tip over into something dangerously close to hysteria.

Clint squeezed her shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. 

When Kate stepped into the room with the doctor, the lights were dimmer than before. Yelena lay in the bed, wrapped in white sheets, monitors beeping steadily at her side. Tubes and IV lines were carefully arranged around her. 

But it wasn’t reassuring at all.  

Seeing Yelena like this, small against the hospital bed with her skin pale against the white sheets, hit Kate harder than all the chaos had. Harder than seeing all the blood. Harder than the fear. This was quiet, but somehow that made it worse. 

Her chest seized, breath stuttering as her eyes traced every wire, every IV line, the slow, steady rise and fall of Yelena’s chest. Alive, her brain supplied automatically. 

But alive was terrifyingly fragile.

Kate’s hand flew to her mouth as tears welled without warning. She turned her head sharply, trying to pull herself together, but a quiet sob still slipped free.

“She’s okay,” the doctor said immediately. “I promise. This is all normal and what we want to see. Her vitals are very strong.” 

Kate let out a shaky breath and pulled the chair closer to the bed, sitting beside Yelena. Her hands hovered uselessly for a moment, unsure and afraid to touch, before she gently took Yelena’s hand in both of hers. 

“We’re going to start waking her up.” The doctor told her. 

It was subtle at first: a faint flutter beneath Yelena’s lashes. A shallow inhale that hitched, then smoothed out again. Kate straightened instantly, heart pounding as she leaned closer. 

Yelena’s brow creased, confusion flickering across her features as she slowly regained consciousness. Her eyelashes fluttered again, then slowly, her eyes opened. They were unfocused at first as she stared at Kate, glassy with lingering sedation. 

She brushed her fingers through Yelena’s hair, sweeping the loose blonde strands back from her forehead. “Hey,” She whispered, voice thick. “Hi. You’re okay. You’re in the hospital. Surgery’s over.” She swallowed, thumb stroking lightly at Yelena’s temple. “You did great, Lena.” 

Her fingers tightened around Kate’s hand, and her lips parted as her face tightened with discomfort. She swallowed, then murmured hoarsely, barely audible over the steady beep of the monitors. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” 

Kate straightened immediately, her heart jumping. “What did she say?” The doctor asked quickly before Kate could say anything. 

“She feels like she’s going to throw up,” Kate repeated. 

“It’s just a side effect from the anesthesia; it’s very common. I’ll give her something for the nausea.” The doctor said, adjusting the IV and pushing medication through the line. Kate turned her full attention back to Yelena. She kept stroking her hair in slow, rhythmic motions. “They’ve got you. It’s nothing bad. Just your body waking up.”  

Yelena’s breathing gradually evened out, the tension easing from her shoulders as the medication took effect. Her grip on Kate’s hand tightened for just a moment, small but deliberate, before relaxing again. Her eyes fluttered, still heavy, but much calmer now. 

Kate’s vision blurred as relief finally cracked through the terror she’d been holding back for hours. 

Without thinking, because thinking would’ve stopped her, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Yelena’s forehead. It was soft, fleeting, reverent. Yelena’s eyes began to close again, and Kate heard the doctor laugh. “Don’t fall asleep again, Yelena. We want you awake.” The woman said. 

“Sorry,” Kate mumbled reflexively, not pulling back far. Her thumb continued its slow, absent-minded path along Yelena’s temple, grounding them both. “You heard the doctor. No sleeping yet.”

Yelena made a quiet sound in her throat that might’ve been a laugh if she weren’t so exhausted. Her eyes blinked open again, sluggish but clearer this time, focusing on Kate’s face. 

“You look… bad,” Yelena rasped. 

Kate laughed weakly, blinking fast. “Yeah, well. You scared the hell out of me.” 

Yelena’s fingers twitched, and Kate immediately tightened her grip, lacing their fingers together more firmly. 

“We’re going to move her to a room shortly. We’re keeping her for a few nights, at least.” The doctor informed her, and the staff began to disconnect unnecessary equipment and prepped Yelena for transport. Kate stayed exactly where she was, one hand still holding Yelena’s, the other braced protectively at her shoulder. Yelena watched her the entire time, eyes tracking her with quiet intensity. 

Eventually, Yelena was settled into a private recovery room and carefully transferred to a bigger bed with warmer blankets. The monitors resumed their steady, reassuring rhythm, and once the room cleared, Kate finally exhaled.  

Yelena shifted in the bed as soon as the doctors left them alone, moving the blankets around her. Kate’s eyes narrowed as she watched her and stepped closer to the bedside. “Stop moving around. What do you need?” 

“I’m just getting comfortable,” Yelena said quietly, her voice hoarse and dry. She moved her legs underneath the blankets, and Kate put her hand on Yelena’s thigh without truly considering what she was doing. 

“Well, you’re stressing me out.”

Yelena stilled, her gaze flicking down to where Kate’s hand rested before drifting back up to her face. There was a beat of charged silence. 

Kate realized it then.

Her fingers flexed slightly, as if she might pull away, but she didn’t. Instead, she sighed, and her thumb pressed lightly in reassurance. “You’re stressing me out,” she repeated, voice quieter. “I’m already at my emotional limit for the day.”

A corner of Yelena’s mouth twitched. She was so pretty, even sitting in a hospital bed after coming too close to dying. “You worry too much.”

“Yes,” Kate said immediately. “And right now, you are the problem.” 

Yelena huffed softly, the sound barely more than air. “I almost died. I think I am allowed to be a problem.” 

Kate snorted. “You’re always the problem. Especially now. I’m still mad at you.”

“That’s so rude,” Yelena said, but there was no heat behind it. Her eyes lingered on Kate’s face for a moment longer, then she shifted her arm and patted the mattress beside her. 

“Sit,” she said simply.

Kate froze.

Her hand was still on Yelena’s thigh, warmth seeping through the hospital blanket, and suddenly she was aware of how close they already were. Too close. Or maybe not close enough. 

“Yelena…” Kate started, uncertain.

Yelena’s brows knit together faintly. “You are hovering,” she said. “It is making me nervous.” 

“That is incredibly ironic.”

“Kate.”

The way she said her name—quiet, insistent, very tired—did it. Kate exhaled, defeated, and carefully perched herself on the edge of the bed, mindful of IV lines and monitors. She didn’t pull her hand away, and Yelena relaxed immediately.

Her shoulder tipped sideways just enough to brush Kate’s arm, her head angling toward her in a way that made Kate’s chest ache. Yelena’s fingers subtly curled into the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “I couldn’t let you die. You’d be a very annoying ghost.” She said, sounding dangerously close to falling asleep. 

Kate blinked, caught off guard by Yelena’s words. A laugh burst from her chest. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m so mad at you right now.” She shook her head. 

Before Yelena said anything more, the door to the room opened quietly, and Clint stepped inside. Yelena’s eyes flicked to him briefly. A quick, assessing glance. A silent acknowledgment. Then she looked back at Kate. Her grip tightened faintly, deliberate, and her head settled more fully against Kate’s arm, as if the decision had already been made. Kate’s breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. She adjusted instead, angling herself so Yelena was more comfortable.

Clint didn’t say a word, easing himself into a chair on the other side of the bed. 

After Kate properly introduced Yelena to Clint when she wasn’t trying to assassinate him, everything shifted in ways so small at first that Kate barely noticed them happening.

Clint had been wary when Kate told him that she and Yelena were friends, and at first, Yelena only just tolerated him. 

That tolerance looked like clipped politeness and careful distance as she watched him constantly. Clint was used to that kind of scrutiny; he’d lived under it for years. He never called her on it. Never pushed. He let her watch, let her decide for herself whether he was a danger or merely inconvenient. 

When Kate brought Yelena to the Bartons’ for Christmas, it had helped. 

Seeing Clint in an ugly sweater, burning cookies he swore were “supposed to be like that” with Lucky and Fanny asleep at his feet, disarmed him. Then, Clint told Yelena about Natasha. 

Not the headlines. Not the legend. Not the Avenger.

He talked about how Natasha hated mornings, just like Yelena herself, and loved terrible diner coffee. About how she stole his fries even when she ordered her own. About the way she hummed when she cleaned her weapons, soft and absentminded, like she forgot anyone could hear her. He spoke carefully, but not defensively, like he wasn’t trying to convince Yelena of anything, only offering pieces of someone they’d both loved and lost. 

After that, Yelena no longer flinched at his presence, no longer braced for disappointment or betrayal. When Clint spoke about Natasha after that, Yelena didn’t leave the room. Grudging warmth replaced tolerance. Trust followed, slowly.

Yelena shifted slightly under the blankets again as a sudden, wet cough broke the fragile quiet, and Kate’s body stiffened immediately. Her hand shot toward Yelena’s shoulder, steadying her. 

“You okay?” Kate asked, voice tight, leaning closer.

Yelena waved a weak hand, brushing past Kate’s concern. “I’m fine,” she rasped, though the cough had left her flushed. Kate recognized the pain that flickered across her features. 

Kate swallowed hard, her mind racing. Her gaze flicked to the bedside table, to the glass she knew wasn’t there, and she began to stand from the bed. Yelena’s voice, soft but edged with something vulnerable, stopped her mid-step. “You’re leaving?” 

Kate froze. “What? No! I’m not leaving. I’m just going to get you water.” She faltered, heart hammering.  

Clint, still seated nearby, shook his head slightly with a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Kate, stay here. I’ll go get it.” He said gently. 

Kate’s eyes never left Yelena, who let out another shallow cough and then leaned back slightly, eyelids fluttering in exhaustion. “Thank you,” Yelena rasped, her voice small, almost sheepish. 

“There’s no need to thank me. I should be thanking you.” 

Yelena shook her head, squeezing Kate’s hand atop her leg. Kate exhaled, the tension coiling in her chest finally loosening. The room was quiet now except for the gentle beeping of monitors, the soft hiss of oxygen, and the steady rhythm of Yelena’s breathing. 

When Clint returned with water, Kate helped her take slow sips of it. 

He gave them both a knowing look that neither of them perceived, and then eased back into his chair. 

 

---

 

11:50 pm || December 31st, 2025. 

The city roared with life tonight. 

With ten minutes till midnight, the streets were thick with people, horns blaring, and music spilled from every corner. Snow fell in lazy, glittering flakes, but it couldn’t mute the chaos. Car engines hummed, laughter bounced off the buildings, and somewhere below, a street performer’s drumbeat kept time with the impatient pulse of New Year’s anticipation. From the balcony, Kate could see streams of taxis and pedestrians, bundled in coats and scarves, faces flushed with excitement, some holding sparklers. Streetlights flickered over wet asphalt, casting reflections that danced like tiny fireworks, preluding the real ones. 

But up here, above it all, on the balcony wrapped in blankets and pillows, the chaos felt distant. Yelena was pressed against her side in the city that never slept with Lucky and Fanny curled around them, tails twitching at stray snowflakes. Kate was trying not to stare, but she knew she was spectacularly failing. Her gaze lingered on Yelena, tracing the soft shape of her face, the sweep of her eyelashes catching the city lights. She had never seen anyone as breathtakingly beautiful as her. Not in her entire life. Not in photographs. Not in movies. Not in any story she’d ever read.  

Every year, without fail, they watched the New Year’s fireworks from this balcony, high above the city. Usually, it was loud, crowded with their friends sprawled across blankets and pillows, bottles clinking, with lots of laughter. 

But this year was different. 

Yelena was still healing, and though she’d insisted she was fine, Kate couldn’t help herself. Since Yelena had been released from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hospital a little over a week ago, Kate hovered and fretted in a way that surprised even herself. Blankets were layered around them, hot drinks were constantly within reach, and Kate had probably asked a dozen times if she’d taken her medication, even though Kate personally saw that she did every four hours. The chaos of a party would’ve been too much, so this year, it was just the two of them and the dogs, wrapped in blankets. 

Yelena shifted to tuck herself closer, her arm draped over Kate’s waist. Kate’s fingers traced lazy patterns along her back, savoring the warmth, the steady presence that made the city outside feel like it belonged to someone else. 

Since Yelena had gotten out of the hospital, something between them had changed. 

They had started sharing a bed, at first out of necessity because Kate couldn’t sleep without checking on Yelena throughout the night, but it quickly became a habit they hadn’t kicked. They woke up tangled together, half-asleep murmurs passing between them, bodies pressed together in a quiet rhythm that had become theirs entirely. Every morning, Kate would brush a hand over Yelena’s hair, press a soft kiss along her temple or her cheek, and watch her stretch and yawn as if this were the only way mornings could begin. 

She had helped Yelena shower a few times since she came home, making sure the water wasn’t too hot, the towels were soft, and the folds of blankets and clothes were managed with quiet attention. Yelena had teased her about it once, murmuring something about Kate being ridiculous, but there had been gratitude in her eyes, unspoken, quiet, and utterly unmissable. 

Kate couldn’t stop noticing everything, couldn’t stop wanting more, though she never pressed too far. Yelena’s comfort was everything. She had tried to tell herself it was still just friendship and that the fear of losing Yelena had warped her attention into something overprotective, something that could be explained. But as Yelena nuzzled closer, chin resting lightly against Kate’s chest, eyes half-closed, Kate knew better.  

Kate was in love. It was heartbreaking and entirely complicated. 

The city clock somewhere below began to chime the final minutes till the new year, its sound swallowed quickly by cheers. 

Yelena shifted against Kate, pushing herself upright just enough to look at her. The blanket slipped from one shoulder as she leaned closer. Her arm stayed around Kate’s waist, grounding them together, and her knee pressed against Kate’s thigh beneath the layers of blankets. 

“Kate Bishop,” Yelena murmured, voice low and warm. Her eyes searched Kate’s face curiously. “Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?” 

Her fingers stilled where they rested against Yelena’s back, hyper-aware of every place they touched. “I don’t know,” She said honestly. “Survive another year without giving you or Clint a heart attack, maybe.” 

Yelena snorted as she rolled her eyes. “That is not a resolution. That is impossible.” 

“Okay, fair.” The countdown echoed again—one minute left—and her chest tightened. “I guess… I want things to be quieter this year. Less… almost losing you.” Her voice wobbled despite her effort. “Fewer hospitals.” 

Her hand slid a little higher at Kate’s waist. “I would also like that,” she said.

Someone shouted a countdown from an adjacent balcony, their voice echoing faintly upward, and within seconds it spread until the whole city seemed to count together. 

The crowd reached ten… then nine… then eight… 

“What about you?” Kate asked, barely above a whisper. Yelena was so close she could kiss her, their foreheads almost touching. “Any resolutions?” 

Seven. 

Yelena hesitated. It was brief, but Kate felt it. The pause, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them. Then Yelena shifted again and leaned into Kate as if there was never another option. 

Six. 

“Maybe,” she said slowly, “I want to stop pretending everything is fine when it’s not.”

Five. 

Kate’s pulse thundered in her ears. “I don’t really do resolutions,” Kate confessed. “But I think I want to keep this. Whatever this is.” 

Four. 

Kate’s forehead dipped closer, and her lungs forgot how to work properly. This felt different from everything that had come before. Not adrenaline. Not fear. Not the desperation that had carried her through these past few weeks. This was quiet and terrifying in a whole new way. 

Three. 

She could feel Yelena’s breath soft against her lips, and it sent a shiver straight down her spine. She leaned in, like gravity had quietly shifted its rules. 

Yelena’s gaze dropped briefly to Kate’s lips. 

Kate’s heart pounded.

Two. 

She wasn’t thinking about consequences. Or timing. Or whether this changed everything. The world narrowed to the space between them, that fragile, suspended moment where everything hung in balance and could come crashing down. Every instinct she’d trained into herself—distance, caution, restraint—crumbled under the simple fact that Yelena was right there, looking at her like that. 

One… 

The city exploded into sound and light, cheers and fireworks tearing across the sky in brilliant color, but Kate didn’t notice any of it. Her world centered around Yelena entirely, as it always had. 

She didn’t know who moved first. She only knew that suddenly the space between her and Yelena was gone. 

Their lips met in a breathless, fragile press. Soft, almost questioning. It wasn’t rushed. It was careful, reverent, like touching something precious and breakable. Kate’s breath stuttered as the realization hit her all at once. This was real. 

This was happening. 

Yelena made a quiet sound that went straight to her core, and Yelena’s hand tightened on Kate’s hip. Her hand slid up Yelena’s back to tangle in her hair as her lips parted against Yelena’s, but she didn’t chase. Didn’t push.  

But Yelena did. 

She deepened it, unmistakably and deliberately. Her tongue brushed against Kate’s lower lip in a soft, teasing sweep. When Kate answered, rolling Yelena’s lower lip into her mouth, the kiss melted into something ravenous. One hand came to Yelena’s thigh, guiding her to straddle her hips as Yelena’s weight settled atop her. 

Fireworks flared behind her closed eyelids, flashes of color bleeding through the dark. Kate tasted chocolate and something unmistakably Yelena, and her chest felt too full, like she might break open from it. Every nerve in her body seemed to hum, and heat pooled into her core. It was all-consuming, their tongues meeting in soft, exploratory strokes. 

Her other hand slid along Yelena’s thigh as Yelena’s hand slid under her sweatshirt, gently dragging her nails across Kate’s skin. Kate would’ve been abashed at the moan that slipped out if she weren’t so captive to the press of Yelena’s chest against hers. Relief, awe, longing… everything tangled together until she couldn’t separate them. Yelena’s breath spilled out in soft, helpless gasps between kisses. 

Her thumb stroked along Yelena’s upper thigh in grounding arcs. 

And then… 

A cold, wet nose shoved insistently between their faces as Lucky wedged himself directly into the space between them, tail wagging as if he’d accomplished something heroic.  

Both Yelena and Kate laughed. 

Yelena pulled back just enough to look at her, cheeks flushed, eyes bright and warm in a way that stole Kate’s breath all over again. Yelena scratched Lucky behind his ear, and he settled back down beside them, seemingly pleased he had interrupted the most important moment in Kate’s life. Laughter faded into something soft and quiet as fireworks continued to bloom overhead, completed unnoticed because everything Kate needed was right there in her arms.

“Happy New Year, дорогой.” Yelena smiled, so breathtakingly beautiful.  

Kate tipped her forehead gently against hers, feeling warmth in her cheeks when she understood what Yelena called her. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time. At least since the moment I saw you on that rooftop.” She said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Yelena’s lips. 

Yelena laughed, turning her head to press a quick, playful kiss to Kate’s lips, lighter now. Sweet and lingering. “Guess what?” She murmured, her nose brushing Kate’s. 

Kate smiled, thumb tracing idle circles on Yelena’s thigh. A thrill went through her when she felt Yelena shiver against her. “What?” She asked. 

Yelena’s grin turned mischievous, eyes sparkling with triumph. “I won.”

Kate snorted softly. “At what?” 

“I made the first move!” Yelena announced, proud and delighted, like she’d just claimed victory in a competition Kate hadn’t known they were playing.

“Oh my god,” Kate laughed, shaking her head. “You absolutely did not.”

But before Yelena could argue her case, Kate shifted. She rolled them with a smooth, playful twist until Yelena landed on her back against the couch cushions, surprised laughter bursting out of her. Kate followed easily, bracing herself over Yelena, and their legs tangled. 

Fanny’s ears flicked at the commotion before she settled against Lucky with a huff.

Yelena’s laugh faded into a grin as she looked up at Kate, flushed, radiant, and entirely undone. “See?” she said smugly. “Winner.” 

Kate hovered there for a second, smiling down at her, heart thundering as her hips pressed to Yelena’s. She dipped her head like she was going to kiss her again, and then stopped.

Yelena’s smile fell into an exaggerated pout almost instantly. “Hey,” she complained softly. “Why’d you stop?” 

Kate’s hands slid to Yelena’s sides, gentle as she touched the dressing covering her stitches. “Because you’re hurt,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to accidentally…”

“I do not care,” Yelena interrupted, wrapping her arms around Kate’s neck to try to pull her down. “I’m fine. I don’t want to stop.” 

“There are so many things I want to do to you, and I need you healed completely because I want to take my time with every single one,” Kate murmured.  

Yelena’s eyes darkened, and her breath hitched. “Kate Bishop,” she murmured, low and pleased. “You say things like that, and then you tell me to behave? After I have waited all this time to kiss you?” 

Before Kate could answer, Yelena tugged her closer by the back of her sweatshirt, turning her head. Her lips brushed along Kate’s jaw, unhurried and deliberate, before trailing down to the sensitive skin of her neck. She kissed her there, soft at first, before her teeth grazed just enough to make Kate moan. She felt like a teenager all over again, flushed, breathless, and utterly incapable of thinking straight at one touch from Yelena. “You are going to make me lose my mind, Lena.” She gasped, tangling her hands in Yelena’s hair. 

Yelena hummed and pressed one more slow kiss to her neck before pulling back just enough to look at Kate. “All you have to do is lay there and take it. I won’t pull any of my stitches, I promise.” She said with a smirk.   

Kate tilted her head, heat running through her veins. “The opposite,” she breathed, voice thick and teasing. “You think I’ll just let you control everything?” 

Kate watched the way heat pooled in Yelena’s eyes like molten fire. Oh. Kate had her. Yelena’s smirk faltered, replaced by something deeper—hunger, challenge, and need. Kate’s pulse spiked. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to close the space between them, to act on the ache that had been building for years. 

“One of us just has to lie there then,” Yelena murmured, voice low and rough as she let her fingers drag along Kate’s sides. She arched her hip against Kate’s, hooking her thigh over one of her own. 

“We’ll just have to see who it is,” Kate whispered, her words dripping with promise. 

Yelena pushed against Kate with surprising strength, letting her hands slide over Kate’s chest as she forced Kate off her. “Enough teasing,” she murmured, voice low and rough. Yelena stood and reached out her hand to Kate, who laughed breathlessly and full of heat. 

Her hand found Yelena’s, and she allowed herself to be pulled upright. Yelena’s fingers tightened around hers, pulling her toward the apartment door with a deliberate insistence as if to remind her who was in charge. It wasn’t Kate. The tug was insistent, demanding, and Kate’s pulse raced. 

The dogs followed them inside, immediately heading to the bedroom as if they knew exactly where this was going. 

Kate shut the door, and then there was only them: heat, laughter, whispered promises, and the slow, teasing exploration that had been years in the making. Shoes were kicked aside, coats draped wherever they landed as they made their way to Kate’s bedroom, the one they’d been sharing since Yelena was released from the hospital. 

Kate’s hands slid over Yelena’s back, feeling the familiar heat and strength beneath her fingertips. 

Yelena’s lips parted, a low, ragged sound slipping out as she pressed closer, dragging her hands over Kate’s body, down to her ass. With a decisive shove, Yelena guided her backward until the backs of Kate’s knees hit the edge of the bed, and then she pushed. 

Kate fell back onto the mattress with a soft laugh that turned into a breathless exhale as Yelena followed her down, bracing herself above her. 

“Why don’t you just lie here nicely if you’re so worried I’m going to hurt myself?” Her mouth curved into a victorious smile. “I already won anyway.” Yelena’s voice was almost a growl, daring Kate to prove her wrong. 

Kate’s answer was immediate. 

She pulled Yelena down to kiss her, her tongue brushing Yelena’s in strokes, wet and slick. She shifted underneath her, pressing her thigh between Yelena’s legs. Yelena’s body jerked at the contact, a low, ragged moan spilling from her lips as her breath hitched in a way that made Kate’s heart jump. 

She slowly pulled back, breaking the kiss just enough to let her lips ghost along Yelena’s. Yelena tried to chase her down, tilting her head, reaching, pressing forward, desperate for more. Her hands tangled in Kate’s hair, urging her closer. 

Kate tilted her head away, lips brushing against Yelena’s jaw as she whispered, “Is that what you think? You don’t sound so sure, baby.” She let her hands wander, exploring the curves she had memorized in her mind long before this moment became real.  

Yelena whined with frustration. In a moment of surrender, she let Kate roll her onto her back with ease. Her hands stayed on Kate, tangling in her hair. Kate’s back arched instinctively, pressing into Yelena, shivering and moaning with each deliberate brush of her hands over her body.

“If I do something you don’t like, tell me,” Kate murmured, her eyes searching Yelena’s.

Yelena’s lips curved into a smile as she pressed her forehead against Kate’s. “There is never anything you could do that I wouldn’t like,” she whispered. 

“Promise me, Lena…”

“I promise,” Yelena breathed, hand brushing along Kate’s jaw, thumb stroking her cheek, “as long as you promise the same.” 

Kate nodded, and then their fingers fumbled with buttons and zippers. Kate’s hands traced Yelena’s curves, and Yelena responded in kind. Her hands slide down Kate’s sides, over her thighs, around her waist, pulling her closer, tangling their legs together. Their kisses grew messier, wetter, and urgent. Each one was a claim, a challenge, and a plea.  

It was everything they had held back for years. 

Finally, at last, it was real.

 

---

 

8:34 am || January 5th, 2026. 

The morning sunlight spilled across the apartment, catching on Yelena’s golden, tousled hair and the bare curve of her shoulder visible from the hem of Kate’s oversized sweatshirt Yelena wore. The fabric had slipped off just enough to reveal the soft, warm skin beneath, and Kate couldn’t stop staring. Every quiet line of Yelena’s body felt impossibly familiar and entirely new all at once. 

The weekend had been… everything. Endless hours of tangled sheets and whispered laughter, of stolen kisses in the kitchen while cooking breakfast, and the slow, deliberate exploration that had left them both trembling and breathless more times than either of them could count. Somewhere in the midst of it all, they had finally gone on their first proper date, leaving the apartment behind for a few hours. They had taken the dogs to the park, holding hands as Lucky and Fanny bounded ahead, sunlight catching in their hair and laughter spilling freely between them. Kate had lost track of time, or maybe she hadn’t cared to keep track at all. She didn’t want to return to the real world, with its work, deadlines, and responsibilities. The only thing that mattered was Yelena and the warmth of the dogs nestled around them. 

Kate’s fingers itched, reaching out instinctively, grazing the curve of Yelena’s arm. Yelena leaned closer, dabbing at the mark she’d left on Kate’s neck with a tiny brush of concealer, her lips pursed in concentration. “That’s better. You look a little more professional.” Yelena smiled, satisfied with her work, and set the concealer down on the kitchen counter. “No one will suspect I thoroughly ruined you before nine a.m.”

Kate groaned softly, setting her coffee down, resisting the urge to throw herself at Yelena again. She couldn’t get enough of her Black Widow, even if they hadn’t discussed labels yet. If Kate weren’t so scared of scaring Yelena off, she would buy a wedding ring after work (she’d admit the thought was slightly crazy). “I liked it better before you fixed it.” 

“I did too,” Yelena said easily, stepping closer. She slid her arms around Kate’s waist, resting her forehead against her shoulder. Yelena had her own marks on her skin that Kate was far too proud of. 

She caught Yelena’s lips in a stolen, teasing press that made her heart spike, and Yelena pulled back just enough to grin, fingers brushing along Kate’s arm. “You’re going to be late, дорогой,” she murmured. 

“I don’t want to go,” Kate sighed, tugging Yelena closer so that her lips pressed against hers again. Every kiss was teasing, wet, and deliberate. Her hands roamed, sliding under Yelena’s shirt, brushing the warm skin beneath, tracing the curve of her ribs, the dip of her waist. Yelena shivered and let out a low, ragged moan, prompting Kate to grin against her lips before she pulled back.

“We will survive a few hours apart. Then you will come back to me.” Yelena murmured, brushing her nose against Kate’s. 

“You’re okay, right?” Kate asked, searching her face. “I know this weekend was a lot…” 

Yelena frowned. She lifted one hand and cupped Kate’s face. “Kate Bishop,” she said quietly. “If I were overwhelmed, I would tell you.” 

Kate searched her face, eyes flicking over every familiar line like she was bracing for something to crack. “Right. I just…” She cut herself off with a breathy laugh. “Ignore me, darling. I’m being weird.” 

“You are being you,” Yelena corrected fondly. She leaned in and kissed the corner of Kate’s mouth. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

That did it. 

Kate’s breath hitched, and she nodded quickly, pretending that hadn’t been exactly what she needed to hear. “Okay,” she said, voice softer now. “I’ll be back soon.”  

Finally, with a sigh, she stood at the door, bag slung over her shoulder, one last kiss pressed to Yelena’s lips. But even then, her hands lingered on Yelena’s waist.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you,” Yelena replied, smirking, watching Kate reluctantly step into the hall, still gripping Kate’s hand for a final playful tug before letting her go. 

Kate laughed and closed the door behind her, heart still hammering, mind still caught in the warmth and touch of Yelena, already counting the minutes until she could get back. 

 

---

 

5:15 pm || January 5th, 2026. 

Kate’s key stuck for half a second in the lock, and she frowned, shifting the paper-wrapped, flower bouquet in her arm so she could jiggle it free.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered to herself, smiling despite it as relief flooded through her. “I’m home.”

The door swung open, and Lucky came bounding towards her. Where was Fanny? The apartment was quiet in a way that felt wrong immediately. Not peaceful, not calm. Hollow.

“Lena?” Her voice died in her throat. 

The shoes by the door were gone. Not just pushed aside or neatly lined up. Gone. The extra jacket that usually hung crooked on the hook was missing. The air itself felt different, stripped of that familiar warmth of Yelena. 

Kate didn’t move. She didn’t even realize she dropped the flowers in her arms. Her brain refused to catch up.

“Yelena?” she tried again, softer now. As if she didn’t speak too loudly, this version of reality might correct itself. 

Lucky sat down beside her, tail wagging once before slowing, confused. Kate couldn’t even reach down to pet him. Her eyes were already scanning the apartment. “No,” she whispered, her heart shattering in her chest.

She moved through the apartment on unsteady legs, every step confirming it. The dresser drawer. Empty. The closet was half a wardrobe lighter. The corner where Fanny’s bed had been tucked was nothing but carpet, clean and cruelly untouched.

Fanny was gone. 

So was everything Yelena had brought with her. Every quiet claim she’d made on the space. Every sign that she’d even been here at all. 

Kate stumbled back against the bedroom door, breath coming too fast now. Her chest was tight like it was collapsing in on itself. Her back hit the wood, and she slid down until she was sitting on the floor, knees pulled in awkwardly. A sob tore free from her chest, followed by another, then another, until she was shaking, shoulders folding inward like she could make herself smaller. Like she could disappear into the space Yelena had left behind. Lucky whined softly and pressed his head into her lap, paws clumsy as he tried to climb closer. 

The flowers she’d bought for Yelena lay forgotten by the front floor as a hollow ache settled in her chest like a familiar shadow because she’d known Yelena would run. She had always known it, in the quiet corners of her mind, the way she’d felt it tighten every time she imagined building a life together. Yet knowing it didn’t make this… this emptiness, this sharp, lingering ache… any easier to bear. Lucky pressed closer, and Kate didn’t move, holding onto him, holding onto the fragments of love that weren’t enough to keep Yelena. 

 

---

 

Notes:

The beer bottle plot line is based on a true story ;) I hope you enjoyed this, despite the cliffhanger.

If I have time before my spring semester starts, I may go back and finish the sex scene. I make no promises. However, I have lots of wonderful, smutty works by incredible authors bookmarked if you’re interested!