1992, Ohio
In hindsight, eight-year-old Natasha was probably not a great cook. Cooking was not considered a key skill in the Red Room. Yes, it was useful under some circumstances, but it could be taught later when a specific mission required it. For the younger agents, combat and espionage took priority.
But to three-year-old Yelena, her big sister was the best cook in the world.
When Mama and Daddy went on their date nights at the North Institute, they left Natasha in charge of dinner and bedtime. And dinner was always boxed mac n' cheese.
"All right, darling, we'll be home late so Nat's in charge, okay?" Melina would say, kissing her on the forehead and giving her a hug goodbye.
"Be good for your sister," Alexei would say, as he picked her up and raised her high into the air, then spun around before putting her down again.
"Yay!" Yelena would exclaim, because she loved being at home alone with her sister.
They would spend the evening running around in the garden, playing on the swings and climbing in and out of the treehouse. Natasha would teach her cool acrobatic tricks, like how to reach over backwards so that they were both upside down. And just as the sun began to set, Natasha would put her in a corner with some toys while she cooked, glancing over every three minutes to check that Yelena was still all right.
Then, when the smell of processed American cheese filled the house, Yelena would clamber up into one of the dining room chairs and dig in to the delicious plate of mac and cheese that her sister placed in front of her. They'd talk nonsense and laugh while they ate. And they were happy.
2016, Budapest
Food was a good idea, Yelena decided. She'd travelled four continents and countless countries to get here, and there wasn't much time to eat. She finally shaken off the agent tracking her somewhere in Asia, although she knew it was only a matter of time before they found her, and now she was starving.
She was starving, and Natasha was taking forever to do something about those vials.
Supplies were scarce in the Budapest safe house. No one had lived there for a while. Yelena decided to risk a dash to the supermarket, and she almost cried for joy when she saw the instant meals section. Good old American boxed mac and cheese. Who'd have thought they'd have this in Hungary?
She bought a dozen and hurried back to the safe house.
It had been twenty-one years since she'd last eaten mac and cheese. Twenty-one years since she'd seen the sister who cooked it for her. This sort of instant meal was frowned upon by the Red Room, and it's not like Yelena had any ability to make her own food choices. They called it "soft food", which sounded accurate because indeed it was easy on the teeth, but they actually called it that because it "would make you soft".
Yelena almost burned herself in her haste to cook the mac and cheese. She could even feel her heart beating faster as it simmered on the stove, and she vaguely realised that this was what it felt like to be excited. Not scared, but properly, happily, excited.
She liked this feeling. She hoped that she'd be having more of it.
When the sauce had thickened sufficiently, Yelena took the pot off the heat and unloaded its contents onto a plate. She closed her eyes when she took the first bite, and instantly she was transported back to the giant dining table in the Ohio summer heat. She could almost see it - the garish yellow cupboards, the magnet-covered fridge, the scattered books and crayons all over the place...and Natasha, sitting opposite her, eyes sparkling, smile lighting up the room. Yelena felt her lips tilt upwards, and she was surprised to find that she was smiling. Not pretending to smile for an undercover role, but genuinely smiling for the first time in many, many years. It felt so foreign to her that she thought she might cry.
But then Yelena opened her eyes, and she was in Budapest, not Ohio, and there was no one sitting across from her at the table. She was alone.
2024, New York
Yelena was angry. Not the kind of bonfire anger that burns ferociously then quickly simmers to nothing. No, hers was the middle-of-a-volcano kind of anger, searing hot and relentless, scorching everything in its path. It was a never-ending anger - there was no time of day when she was not angry. It was 24/7.
Because if she wasn't angry, then she'd have nothing.
She held onto the rage, because it held her together. It gave her purpose and focus, a destination to get to. That destination was vengeance.
So she let the anger burn constantly, never easing, never ceasing, even as she broke into the burned-out apartment and realised that she was starving.
She was starving, and this Kate Bishop was taking forever.
Yelena began rummaging around the cupboards until her eyes fell on a familiar cardboard box. For the first time since the graveyard meeting, Yelena's anger subsided a little, enough for her to register the meaning of that box.
She stared for a long moment, and one hand slowly reached out to take it from the shelf. She held it gingerly, as if it was something precious and fragile. Because it was.
But as soon as the first hint of tears began to find their way into her eyes, Yelena blinked them away impatiently and set about cooking. This was not an emotional moment. This was food, and this was important because Kate Bishop was her best shot at finding Barton. Now, the girl was innocent - Yelena would not hurt her. In fact, Yelena somewhat liked her. She could fight, she could shoot, and she risked her life to rescue a dog. No, Yelena would not hurt her, but she would have to be interrogated.
It turned out that Kate Bishop really liked mac and cheese. That earned her a few more points in Yelena's book. It also turned out that she really didn't know where Barton was. Yelena was good at telling lies from truth, and Kate had yet to tell a lie.
Okay. Time to find a new lead then. Business as usual.
Yelena finished her meal, bade her farewell, and exited out the window. The flames of her anger burned strong and fierce again, and she cast the mac n' cheese out of her mind. It was food, sustenance, and a chance to interrogate a suspect. Nothing else.
2027, Somewhere in the middle of nowhere
Well, that was a disaster. Bombing a whole building to destroy some nuclear missile plans, shooting it out with the Russian special forces, hiding in a vent for three days, then traipsing into the Siberian wilderness. This sounded an awful lot like Nat's old Budapest story.
Kate was apparently thinking along the same lines. "You know, Clint told me about this mission that he and Natasha did in Budapest...and I think we just did a Budapest," she commented as she poked at the fire. It was a bit of a stretch to call it a fire, in fact, as it was more just a pile of embers. They were now huddled in a tiny mountain cabin, both wearing half a dozen layers and still shivering.
"No kidding," Yelena muttered, rubbing her hands together to try and stay warm. "I'm starving. Do we have any more supplies?"
"In my backpack," Kate said, pointing at her backpack with her free hand. Her other hands was still poking at the fire, trying to get it to burn a bit more enthusiastically.
Yelena rummaged in Kate's backpack. She pulled out a bunch of sticks. No. Not sticks, arrows. "Foldable arrows?" Yelena cried. "Since when do you use these? What use are they going to be in a fight? 'Oh, sorry, just a moment, bad guys, I have to unfold my arrows.'" Yelena mimicked pleading with an imaginary enemy while fiddling with the arrows.
"They're just in case," Kate said, rolling her eyes. "You know, this is exactly why I didn't tell you, because I knew you'd make fun of-"
But she was cut off by Yelena exclaiming, "Kate Bishop, you are a genius!" Yelena reached a hand into the backpack and pulled out a pair of zip lock bags. Each bag was filled with dried macaroni and powdered cheese. There was no box because they had stopped using them years ago. Boxes took up too much space, and neither of them needed instructions to make mac and cheese anymore.
Half an hour later, they sat by the fire, which was burning much more steadily now, and balanced a pot between them. There had been only one fork in the cabin, but there had also been a spoon, so they were both able to eat out of the pot at the same time. Yelena squirted some of the hot sauce that she always carried into the pot, and Kate, having finally learnt to eat her macaroni this way, enjoyed her meal immensely.
"You know what?" Yelena commented when they were done.
"What?" Kate asked absentmindedly, feeling quite content and very sleepy.
Yelena grinned. "This is just like New York all over again."