This was the result of reading too many Natasha and Yelena fics. I just watched the movie and loved it! Russian translations will be at the bottom. Enjoy!
-Chargedlion
xxx
Natasha didn't get visitors much. It's kind of hard to casually visit someone who's been on the run from the entire American justice system. So when Nat got a knock on the door of her 'apartment of the week', she was surprised, to say the least. Part of her hoped maybe it was Clint stopping in, but her gut knew it wasn't. She grabbed the gun that was lying absently on the table and cocked it, holding it up next to her head. After sidestepping her way to the door, Natasha pressed her shoulder firmly against the wall and carefully peered through the peephole, which in hindsight she should've covered up. She expected a tall, muscular man or maybe even a middle man coming to try and "do this the easy way", but not this.
Natasha's eyes widened.
"I know you're looking at me, Sestra," came a low, familiar voice. "For an assassin, you sure aren't very sneaky."
Natasha ripped the door open and quickly pulled her inside and shut the door. "Well, neither are you considering you are announcing I'm here in the hallway! I'm supposed to be in hiding, how did you even find me?!"
Yelena put a finger to her lips and shushed her. "Pretty sure you're the one making yourself known by yelling at me. Besides, I'm sure a lot of Russian assassins have little sisters."
Natasha huffed softly and carefully set down the gun. "Maybe..."
"Aw, come on." Yelena grinned lazily and gripped the ex-assassin's shoulders. "You can say it. You're happy to see me."
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "You never told me how you found me."
"Bah." Yelena let her go and waved. "Doesn't matter. I was in town, so I figured I'd come and see you."
The older woman pressed her lips together and sighed. She knew she wasn't going to get anything out of her. "So, you just missed me?" Natasha eventually responded, drawing a little closer.
"You could say that, sure," Yelena conceited, also taking a step closer.
They were only feet apart now. Natasha desperately wanted to pull her into her arms and never let go. Seeing a familiar face was so rare, and she didn't want to waste this. But there was no way she was going to make the first move.
"Nat?"
"Yes?" Natasha questioned softly.
"I don't f-" Yelena pitched forward and fell to her knees, groaning in pain.
"Yelena!" The widow kneeled quickly, placing a hand on the younger woman's back. "What's wrong? Talk to me."
"I..." The blonde pointed to her side as she winced. "There might've been a real reason for me to have come here..."
Natasha had a few guesses as to what that meant, none of them good. "Okay. Lie back." The hand that once rested on Yelena's back now helped guide her to the floor and get situated. Natasha was worried. Yelena never liked showing any type of pain. "Can I take a look?"
Yelena gritted her teeth and nodded. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have-"
"Don't be." Natasha quickly brushed hair behind Yelena's ear. "I care about your safety, even more than my own."
Yelena grunted in response. She wished she could give something a little more meaningful.
Natasha began to shimmy off Yelena's jacket, but in the process, she touched something warm and sticky. "What-?" Her eyes snapped up to Yelena's. "Care to tell me how you got stabbed and why you didn't say anything about it until now?!" Covered by the jacket until now, a dark red substance colored the side of Yelena's shirt. A short dagger with a missing hilt was smack in the middle of it, plunged into the blonde's flank. It wasn't all that deep, but it was enough. "What the hell, Yelena! Why didn't you tell me?!" She asked again, her hands shaking as she struggled to comprehend how this could've happened.
"Nothing a little vodka couldn't fix," Yelena quipped, fulfilling her Russian stereotype.
"Don't joke," Natasha snapped before she glanced around the small room. "I gotta... I don't want you to move so I need to cut your shirt. Hold on."
"Yeah, don't think I have any choice here," the blonde replied from the floor as her sister stood to grab some scissors.
"You're an idiot," Natasha deadpanned when she sat back beside her. Yelena looked at her and she immediately softened. "But you're my idiot. Hold still." With steady hands, she preceded to cut the bottom part of Yelena's shirt off. Now with a clear view, she could survey the damage. She had seen plenty of wounds, but the pattern was off compared to other stabbings. "How much... of this blood is actually yours?"
Yelena tilted her chin down to look. "Not all of it. Some идиот brought a knife to a gunfight."
Natasha shook her head and heaved a heavy sigh. "Looks like he still got you anyway. Let's just hope it's not rusty." Her hand rested gently on Yelena's non-injured side. "It's not that deep, so I can pull it out, but it's gonna hurt like hell."
Yelena smiled confidently. "With what I've been through, this will be a piece of American Pie." But that didn't stop her from slipping her fingers between Natasha's and squeezing. She was comforting Natalia, she'd tell herself.
"You're not made of steel," her sister whispered under her breath before she got up to grab some towels, some gauze, and a bowl of warm water.
"Don't forget the vodka!"
"Don't have any," Natasha muttered as she prepared to remove the knife.
"What kind of Russian are you?!" Yelena scoffed, but that made her teeth clench. She was really feeling it now.
"Stay still," Natasha barked, pressing Yelena's shoulder back. "I can get this out, but only if you work with me here. Understood?"
Yelena pressed her lips together and nodded curtly.
Natasha looked down at her and her expression immediately softened. "Do not be afraid, little one, I will look after you."
"I am not afraid," came the automatic response built into her system. No fear. No pain. As far as anyone else was concerned, Yelena was made of stone.
"Right. Then this will be a breeze." Natasha carefully grabbed the broken end of the blade and pressed the palm of her hand to the ground to steady herself. "Okay. Three. two-"
Yelena's eyes squeezed shut in anticipation.
"-one."
With a simple yet elegant technique, the dagger was pulled from its unwanted resting place without too much additional damage.
Yelena heaved a sharp breath and squeezed her hand into a fist. It was out, but now it was time for part two.
Natasha grabbed a towel and pressed it over the wound, noting how deep the gash was. Could be worse. "Can you hold that please?"
The Russian did as she was asked as she watched Natalia prepare to clean and wrap the area of need. "Sestra?"
Natasha paused and peered down at her.
Yelena smiled softly. She was lucky to have an Avenger by her side. "Spasibo."
"Ne za chto," the woman replied in Russian, placing her hand over her sister's. "I'll always look after you. Even if you are a pain."
Yelena childishly stuck her tongue out at her.
Natasha laughed and moved her hand away. "See?"
"You know you love me."
With a fond shake of her head, she moved the bowl of water closer and prepared to help clean the wound. "How's it looking?"
Yelena gently removed the towel from her side and assessed it. "It's beautiful, best one I've had in a while."
Natasha scoffed and leaned down to see for herself. The bleeding had lessened quite a bit, but it certainly was gnarly. "Ready for me to clean it?"
"Just get it over with, your floor is super uncomfortable," the blonde complained with a twinkle in her eye. She was enjoying this way more than she should.
"Alright, alright, hold still." Moving to sit Indian style first, the ex-assassin began to gently wash the blood off of her sister's body. She forced herself to focus on it, knowing that if she let her mind wander just a little bit, fear would take over. She couldn't let that happen, she needed to have steady hands for this job.
Yelena noticed Natasha's struggles, so she began softly humming "American Pie", a favorite of hers. Maybe it could give Natalia something else to think about.
Natasha froze suddenly.
Yelena opened her mouth to apologize for distracting her, but realized that the widow was looking elsewhere.
"Do you even remember where you got all those scars from?"
"Hm." The younger woman shifted uncomfortably and shook her head. Her torso was littered with scars, and as much as she loved to joke about receiving more, it was a pretty sight for no one. "No, not all of them. Probably for the best, you know?"
"Maybe..." Natasha's fingers traced over a few of the more noticeable lines.
Yelena shivered impulsively. "H-hey, your hands are cold!"
Natasha drew her hand back quickly. "Sorry, I..." She paused when she saw the look in her sister's eyes. It wasn't discomfort from her cold hands, it was fear. "Do you... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched you, I'll just-"
"No, I'm sorry, I want..." The blonde closed her eyes and breathed out of her nose. "I want you to touch me, but... You know..."
"I know." Natasha shook her head roughly and began cleaning the wound again. "I want that too, but it is hard. We'll start slow, okay?"
"Okay... I'd like that."
Humming in agreement, Romanoff worked on finishing up the job.
Yelena stared up at the ceiling, allowing her mind to wander a little. This wasn't the first time Natasha tended to her wounds, and she doubted it would be the last. She thought of Ohio, the time before pulling knives out of each other became a completely normal interaction. A small smile graced her lips. Even in Ohio, Natalia always looked after her.
"Alright...," Natasha muttered under her breath and she reached behind her for the gauze. "Can you prop up on your forearms for me?"
Yelena conceded with only a little bit of struggling. "What's next, you gonna test my planking skills? I promise you even with this beauty I could kick your butt."
The Avenger laughed. "Probably. I'll be quick with this one, I promise." She looked bandage, then back at the wound. Her eyebrow furrowed. Maybe she didn't think this through enough. "You might... I think you should take the rest of your shirt off. It's going to get in the way, and I don't want to accidentally drag it against the open cut. Are you comfortable with that?"
"You couldn't have told me that before you cut my shirt?" the blonde deadpanned.
"Well-"
"I know." Yelena pressed one of her arms more firmly into the floor and carefully removed her shirt with one hand.
Natasha bit her lips as even more scars were revealed across her midriff and collarbone. "Thank you... You can have one of my shirts later." Then, the wrapping of the wound commenced. Because of the uncomfortable position she left her sister in, she made sure to be as efficient as possible.
Yelena watched her sister out of the corner of her eye. It was entertaining to watch the master at work. Besides, she couldn't help it. She loved it when Natasha took care of her.
"Done." Natasha gently ran her hand over her handy work. "You can sit up now. But be careful."
"Okay, mom." Yelena took Natasha's outstretched hand and slowly sat up.
"Is that okay?" Her sister asked, inspecting her torso.
Yelena twisted her hips from side to side, testing it out. "Wow, poser, who knew you were such astute doctor?"
The poser in question chuckled softly. "Please don't make me your primary doctor."
"Nah." Yelena gave her a fond look, her eyes shining bright with the love only a younger sister could have. "No ty vsegda budesh' prismatrivat' za mnoy, verno?"
"Konechno," Natasha agreed, gently squeezing Yelena's knee.
The Russian's gaze averted. She suddenly felt young again, vulnerable. This was a feeling she had long forgotten about.
" 'lena."
Yelena looked into Natasha's eyes. She didn't realize she was crying until Natasha reached out and brushed a tear away. "I'm sorry, I just..." She sniffed and shook her head absently. "I'm not used to this..." She gestured vaguely. "Attention like this..."
Natasha nodded slowly. "Well..." She scooted closer and gently pressed her forehead against the younger woman's. "Guess it's time to work on that."
Yelena laughed a watery laugh and pressed her forehead more firmly against Natasha's. "Guess so, poser." It didn't take long for her to favor nuzzling into Natasha's neck instead of the forehead touch. Guess she needed this more than she realized.
Natasha held the back of Yelena's neck with one hand and gently grazed her uninjured side with the other. "I'll protect you, sestra, I promise."
It took a soft kiss to her head for Yelena's silent tears to turn to quiet sobs. It was as if every emotion had come to the surface and forced its way out.
"Shh, I've got you," Natasha whispered near her ear, stilling her hand on her side so she could hold her more firmly. "I'm here."
"This is so stupid...," Yelena complained against her sister's throat, hating how she couldn't gain control. "I don't know what's hap-pening to me..."
"Not stupid." Natasha carefully ran her hand down Yelena's still bare back. "We didn't get a whole lot of this as kids... but this is nice, right?"
"Mhm." The blonde hugged Natalia closer to herself, grunting softly when she accidentally moved too quickly. "I like it when you hold me..."
"Well then." Natasha nuzzled her cheek against her sister's and smiled. "Guess we need to make it a point to rendezvous more often. Preferably without involving any injuries."
"Yelena laughed and snuggled impossibly closer. "No promises."
xxx
Sestra - Sister
идиот - Moron or Idiot
Spasibo - Thank you
Ne za chto - My pleasure or you're welcome
No ty vsegda budesh' prismatrivat' za mnoy, verno - but you'll always look after me, right?
Konechno - Of course