to all of you who requested a follow-up to everything in the last chapter - thanks for lighting a fire under my muse.
this one jumps around a little in terms of perspectives, just FYI.
enjoy.
Laura glances down at her phone and swipes open the notification informing her movement on one of the perimeter cameras. Probably another deer, she thinks as she waits for the phone to load the video clip. The system is pretty good at filtering out the movement of wildlife, but every so often it still flags one as a potential security risk if it was positioned in such a way. She blinks in confusion when instead of a deer or a bird or some other wild animal, she sees a blonde woman staring straight at the camera. The woman blinks a few times before she moves and heads in the direction of the farm.
Laura feels tension ripple through her as her mind instantly begins assessing the scenario and putting together a plan of action. She and Clint had prepared for this years ago, having known that both their careers meant they'd gained a few enemies over the years. Enemies who would like to inflict pain on them through whatever means they deemed necessary. They'd chosen this farm deliberately for its remoteness — even the closest neighbours are farther than a comfortable walk away — since it allowed them the privacy to live their lives without having to try and hide parts of themselves in the name of security. It also let them install a state-of-the-art alarm and security system without any questions from neighbours.
Her phone chimes with another notification, this time a text from Clint telling her the woman in the clip is Yelena, Nat's sister.
Oh. I guess she did decide to come, Laura thinks as her muscles relax and she blows out a breath weighted with her worry and adrenaline. She types out a quick response to Clint, acknowledging his text and telling him not to rush home on her account.
Laura pulls out two mugs and puts the kettle on before leaning up against the counter and crossing her arms to wait for Yelena to arrive. Honestly, she hadn't expected her to agree to visit. While their last conversation the week before had been civil and even enjoyable, she knows that on some level Yelena is still angry at Clint. Laura doesn't blame her for that — grief manifested in people in many different ways. Clint had been angry at Natasha in the early days after they'd reunited. She'd watched as he had tried to rein it in and hold it inside because he knew he could never truly blame her for what she'd done for him. But that anger had leaked out in moments and flashes where the pain and grief had been written so clearly on his face. Eventually, she'd forced him to take a walk with her and she'd let him vent his anger. She'd listened as he'd spit frustration and disbelief at the choice his best friend had made, and how she'd forced his hand. He told her how Natasha had admitted she hadn't really wanted to do it, that she was trying to save his life, and that he could still hear her final words to him, echoing in his head over and over again in his nightmares. He'd been overwhelmed with grief at that moment and Laura had held him as he mourned the loss of his best friend.
She'd been angry with Natasha too. Clint had told her what she'd done, how she'd saved his life and given her own to bring back everyone who'd been a part of the Blip. She remembers wanting to scream in frustration that Nat had traded her life without a second thought, the fact that Nat's trade meant her husband had lived fading away for that moment. Laura had always known there was a risk that one of them wouldn't come back from a mission, and that there was a possibility that they might die in an act of saving the other. But it didn't mean it hurt any less when Clint told her Natasha was gone. She'd wanted to scream and sob and hit something when he'd told her. The grief had ripped through her and she'd been in disbelief. But slowly — painfully slowly — she'd begun to process the loss.
She's startled out of her thoughts by the whistling of the kettle and she reaches over to turn off the burner and lift it to pour the water into the two mugs. There's a knock at the front door just as she finishes pouring water into the second mug, and she takes a moment to set the kettle back down and smooth out her shirt before she makes her way to the door. She opens it and smiles at the sight of Yelena.
"Hi, I'm Laura," she says with a smile. "Clint's just in town with our youngest, picking up a new baseball glove. He should be home in an hour or so."
"Oh," Yelena says flatly. "Then I'll wait out here—"
"No, no. Please, come in. I made us some tea. I thought you might have some questions about your sister that Clint might not necessarily have an answer to. The two of them spent a lot of time together, but I was lucky enough to get to know her too."
Yelena seems to consider the offer for a beat before she nods once and says, "Okay."
"Please, come on in. Leave your shoes on, it's a bit of a mess. Clint's in the middle of a renovation." Laura sees a small smile play on Yelena's lips for just a moment, and she wonders what had made the young woman react that way. "Do you want some pie with your tea?" Laura asks once they reach the kitchen.
Yelena sniffs the air. "Apple. Natasha's favourite, right?"
Laura nods as she gestures for her to sit, not at all surprised that Yelena had remembered that tidbit from one of her conversations with Clint. "Made it fresh this morning."
"I have never had apple pie," Yelena says as Laura slides one of the mugs across the table to her.
Laura smiles. "That's what Natasha said too. So, you want to give it a try?"
Yelena nods. "Please."
Laura serves her a slice of pie and then slides into the seat across from Yelena. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."
"I know all about you," Yelena replies as she picks up her fork and digs into her pie. "Former SHIELD agent, married Clint Barton in—"
"I know you're well aware of our history," Laura cuts her off. She'd assumed Yelena knew all about them, kids included. She'd figured it came with the territory of being related to the man who'd been her target. "Natasha told me you were no slouch, and I heard from Clint and Kate about New York, so I'm definitely not doubting your skill."
Yelena stares for a moment before she drops her gaze to her fork and then takes a bite. Laura watches as she chews and then an appreciative expression settles on her features. "My sister was right. This is good," she says, gesturing to the pie with her fork. "Did she know how to cook?"
Laura runs her hands around the warm mug. "Some," she answers. "Nothing fancy, but she knew the basics. The kids tended to con her into making french toast when they were young." Laura pauses for a moment as she remembers how Natasha would often corral the kids in the mornings when she stayed with them, giving her and Clint a break and a chance to sleep in. "She made a pretty good pizza, and Clint swears her stir fry was the best he's ever had. She made me borscht once. I don't have anything to compare it to, mind you, but I enjoyed it."
Yelena takes a long drink from her tea before she responds. "Did she enjoy cooking?"
"I think so," Laura answers before taking a sip from her mug. "She never had much luck with baking though."
Yelena looks up at this. "No?"
"No idea why, but she always managed to burn stuff. Cooking was no problem, but baking eluded her."
"I bet that pissed her off."
"Oh yeah. She attacked it like it was a challenge at first, but eventually, she gave up and left the baking to me," Laura explains with a chuckle. "Oh, I have some pictures if you want to take a look," she offers, suddenly remembering Clint had mentioned he wasn't sure if Yelena had any pictures of her sister.
Yelena takes another long drink from her mug. She looks conflicted and Laura wonders if she's uncomfortable showing her grief around someone she doesn't know. Laura decides to give her an out rather than push. "If you prefer, I can just leave the pictures with you and give you some time to—"
"No, it's fine. You have stories about her, I think?"
Laura nods. "Oh, yes. No shortage of those. Let me just grab the photos. I'll be right back."
Laura watches as Yelena flips through the pictures, pausing to scan each one. Her face is mostly neutral, but every so often, Laura can see a tiny smile pull at the corner of her mouth. Occasionally, she'll ask for the story behind a photo and Laura will happily oblige. If she's honestly, she's glad to have the chance to look through and reminisce. Clint and the kids hadn't really been up for it, and Laura hadn't wanted to do it alone.
When Yelena reaches one of Natasha holding Nathaniel, she glances over to Laura. "When was this?"
"Would have been 2015," Laura says, taking the photo and flipping it over to confirm. She'd always been pretty good about dating most of the photos that they printed out. Not that she doubted her ability to remember in the short term, but you never know how long that good memory will last.
"Traitor?" Yelena asks with a frown of confusion as she spots the writing on the back of the photo.
Laura smiles warmly. "That's our youngest, Nathaniel," she explains, even though she's certain Yelena already knows enough about the kids to be able to identify them in the photos. "Originally, we'd been told he was going to be a girl, so we were going to name her after Natasha. But when we found out we were having a boy, we decided to go with Nathaniel instead. And when Nat found out it wasn't going to be a girl, she started calling him a traitor."
Yelena blinks slowly and Laura can see the shock on her face. "He— He's named after her?"
"Yeah," Laura answers softly with a nod.
Yelena's breaths quicken, and Laura watches as her brow furrows and jaw clenches tightly. Yelena looks away as she tries to regain her composure, and Laura hears a pained little sound of grief — poorly disguised by a cough — escape her.
"Nat was—" Laura starts but then stops abruptly as she tries to find the words to explain how important Natasha had been to them all. "Clint knew early on in their partnership that Nat was gonna be someone special in his life. He didn't tell anyone about me, or the farm, but once she started to trust him, he told her about all this. Not long after that, he brought her here to visit."
"She really was a part of your family," Yelena says quietly, her gaze turning back to face Laura. She sees tear tracks on her cheeks and smiles gently.
"Yes," Laura agrees softly, feeling a pulse of grief of her own. For the most part she'd moved beyond the kind of grief that made her heart clench, but every so often, there'd be something that would trigger some that would grip her heart ruthlessly for a moment.
Yelena clenches her jaw again for a beat before she speaks. "I'm glad she had all of you; she deserved a family."
Laura scrutinizes the young assassin. She can see the grief carved in her expression and knows she can't understand the depth of what she's lost. Nat had been like a sister to her, but she was a sister to Yelena. And they'd been torn apart more than once now. "Even if you two weren't together, you were always her family, Yelena," Laura offers gently. She wants to offer some comfort to the young woman who looks lost in the same way that Natasha had once been — drifting without any family to act as a tether. "Once she trusted us, she started telling us about you. She told us stories about your time together in Ohio and how you had dreamed about growing up in houses beside each other so you'd never be far from one another."
"Mine would be blue and hers would be green," Yelena says with a sad smile, clearly having remembered.
"She always had a family," Laura repeats softly. "She always had you, even if you two were far apart."
Yelena nods once, and Laura takes that to be the end of that line of discussion. "What was she like when you met her?"
Laura smiles at the memories as they rise to the surface. "Polite and cordial, maybe even too much so. It was a little unnerving, actually. I could see in her eyes the disbelief at the trust Clint was showing her, and it was clear that she was shocked at his choosing to include her in our slice of life. But it wasn't all smooth sailing."
Yelena's brows raise in a silent question and a prompt for an answer.
"She struggled at first with the programming the Red Room had instilled. SHIELD ran her through reprogramming sessions, but they'd warned Clint that it wasn't as easy as undergoing a few sessions. They'd said that she'd more than likely have to break through some of it by herself. Whatever the Red Room did to her — and Nat never really told us what it was — it left her with splitting headaches bad enough to get her vomiting when she managed to break through some of it."
"I thought it was all psychological conditioning," Yelena says bluntly, a little bit of surprise colouring her expression. "I only know parts of what they did. The program..." she trails off for a moment, seeming uncertain of how to explain things. "It changed after she got out. What I experienced and what she experienced were different, but there were always rumours the best of the older girls had also been test subjects for doctors."
Laura's stomach churns. She supposes that part of her had always known this about Natasha's past, even if the woman had never been able to articulate exactly what had been done to her. But to hear it confirmed from an undeniably reliable source was painful.
"I never thought about it until now," Yelena continues. "She never mentioned anything, not even when we took down the Red Room."
"That was Nat," Laura agrees with a sad smile. "Always listened more than she talked. Most of the time it was like pulling teeth to get anything out of her." Laura's smile brightens then. "Except when it came to you. You, she would talk about endlessly. She was so proud to be your sister."
Yelena looks down at the photos again pointedly, beginning to flip through them again. Again, Laura takes that to mean that avenue of discussion was done.
Clint arrives home to find Laura and Yelena sitting on the couch, mugs of tea on the coffee table in front of them, and pictures and albums strewn all around them. He'd been a little trepidacious about Yelena visiting, still not totally sure how she felt about him, but the fact that Laura had hauled out the photo albums tells him the woman had come with no obvious ill will.
He meets Yelena's scrutinizing gaze and offers a nod in acknowledgement. His gaze slides to Laura then, who gives him a smile that confirms everything's fine.
"Go on upstairs, buddy," he tells Nathaniel.
"But someone's here," he says, his curiosity beating out his usual shyness.
"Yeah, alright. I'll introduce you, but then you go upstairs, okay?"
Nathaniel just nods, and then Clint gives him a little push toward the two women. "Nate, you remember your Aunt Nat?"
He nods, his stare at the stranger in the house unwavering. "Uh-huh."
"Well, this is her sister. Her name is Yelena."
His expression scrunches up in doubt. "You don't look like Auntie Nat."
Clint shakes his head at Nate's bluntness. It seems all his children had been blessed with his gift of sticking his foot in his mouth. Yelena surprises him by laughing at Nate's comment, though.
"I guess I don't," she concedes. "We were sisters though, I promise."
"Prove it."
"Nate! That's not polite," Laura scolds. "I'm sorry," she says, rushing to apologize to Yelena.
"It's okay," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It is reasonable to ask. Here," she says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a photo strip that looks like it's from a photo booth. She holds it out to Nate and nods once encouragingly. "This is your aunt and me when we were small. It was at a fair at our school."
Clint smiles because he knows those photos. Nat had told him how she'd given Yelena two and kept two for herself before they'd gotten separated. Nat had lost hers a few years after returning to the Red Room, having had to destroy them to avoid being found and her being punished.
Clint gives Nate a little push forward, recognizing the trust in Yelena's gesture. He watches as his son takes a few more tentative steps forward, his shyness finally beginning to to take over. Eventually, he gets close enough and snatches the photos from her to scrutinize them. Clint sees Yelena smile at Nate's actions, clearly approving of his brashness.
"Auntie Nat didn't have blue hair," Nate declares skeptically.
"What?" Clint says with a frown because Nat had never mentioned that. He steps forward, snagging the photos from his son's hands and then scanning them quickly. He laughs heartily at the sight of a young Natasha sporting blue hair with red roots. "Oh my god," he says with a grin. "Laura, did you see these?" he asks, holding out the photos to his wife.
She shakes her head and then grabs them from Clint's hands. She, too, laughs at the blue hair but then scrutinizes the photos a moment longer. "You can see it's her from the eyes," she says, beckoning Nate to come closer. He does so with a wary eye toward the stranger, but then focuses on where Laura is pointing out the similarities between Yelena's photo strip and a more familiar picture of his aunt. "See? Same green eyes."
Nate shrugs a little but seems to accept the explanation. "So you're her sister?" he says, looking at Yelena once more.
Yelena nods, accepting the photo strip that Laura is handing back to her. "I am."
"I miss her," Nate declares bluntly. Clint's expression twists into one with grief, regret, and a little pride too.
"Me too," Yelena agrees.
And then Nate is apparently done with the conversation as he skips toward the stairs. "I'm gonna try on my uniform," he declares, grabbing his new glove from Clint on the way.
Clint watches him disappear up the stairs before he refocuses on Yelena. "So, you guys seem to have unearthed all the photo albums we have, but did you show her the digital stuff yet?" he asks, directing the question to Laura who shakes her head in reply. "Want me to get that set up? We've got some videos of her."
"Yes, please," she answers politely with a nod.
"You got it," he answers with a nod of his own, heading toward the office where the air-gapped computers and hard drives are stored.
They'd spent hours going through photos and videos, and Yelena had felt a mixture of grief and joy at seeing her sister documented so prolifically in the family she'd found herself. Clint and Laura had offered story after story of Natasha, and each one had served as both a barb and a balm to Yelena's soul. Knowing her sister had found happiness while they'd been apart gives Yelena some peace, but a part of her grieved for all the time they'd missed out on together while Natasha had been with her other family.
"Hey, there's one more thing I wanna show you," Barton says as he slips on his shoes. "It's out in the barn."
She eyes him carefully, a part of her wondering if all this had been an act to lull her into some sort of sense of safety. She dismisses the threat, knowing she could best him if it came to it and follows suit by slipping on her shoes. She follows him out the door and heads over to the barn she'd seen when she'd arrived.
When they get there, he — somewhat dramatically, in Yelena's opinion — pulls a tarp that's covering up something. Underneath is a beautifully sleek and expensive motorcycle that she doesn't associate with Barton and his practical-for-the-farm truck. No, she thinks, this was Natasha's.
"She always loved riding her bike when we were children," Yelena says with a fond smile as memories bubble up of her sister flying down the street with uncharacteristic whoops of delight. Once Alexei had taught her how to ride it, there was no getting her off it. She rode it late into the evening until Melina had threatened her with having to clean bathrooms or floors. And even then, it had taken some stern words to get her to agree to come inside.
"One of the first big things that she bought herself after defecting was a motorcycle. It was a sweet one too. Never let me ride it, though. She said I'd crash it," Barton says with a rueful grin.
Yelena returns the smile, imagining her sister's dry, sarcastic tone telling him he wasn't allowed to touch her bike.
"When things got to be too much for her — not that she ever admitted that — she would take her bike for long rides. She'd disappear for hours and come back with a map she'd marked up with roads she had covered that day. She had one at a safe house we had in France that she loved to ride too — the roads in the countryside were always empty and picturesque."
Yelena smiles again at the mental image of Natasha riding on roads that wound through mountains and forests and vast fields. She doesn't remember seeing a bike at any of the safehouses from the list Mason had given her. Maybe it's one he didn't know about, she thinks and makes a note to ask Barton about it.
"I think she'd want you to have it."
Yelena is startled from her reverie at his words. She feels a bubble of grief rise in her throat at the gesture. She has a couple pictures of the two of them together, and access to her safehouses, but other than that, she has nothing of her sister's. To have something truly tangible that Natasha had owned and used… It brings a warmth to Yelena she hadn't been expecting.
Barton smiles gently at her loss for words, and she can see the grief lined in his expression and the sadness in his eyes. "If you're not ready, we can keep it here. Cooper and I can take care of the maintenance until you—"
"I want it," she blurts out. "I mean," she amends hastily at his widened eyes, "I'm ready for it now."
He smiles and nods, throwing her the keys from his hand. "Helmet's in that cupboard over there. Oh, and hang on a second," he instructs, holding up a finger and then jogging out of the barn. He returns a few moments later carrying a beautiful leather jacket. "This was hers too. She kept it in the closet in the house. Goes with the bike," he says with another smile as he hands it to her.
Yelena reaches out and takes the jacket from him, fingers squeezing the leather gently. It's soft and well worn, but clearly well-cared for too. She feels tears sting her eyes as she tries to hold it together, but the physical reminder of her sister tips her emotions over the edge, and she hastily wipes away a tear. "Thank you," she says genuinely, and he nods in reply. Then a thought occurs to her. "Did she keep those maps?"
Barton looks thoughtful for a moment. "Might have a few of them here for the area around here, yeah. I can root around some boxes this afternoon and see what I can dig up."
"Thanks," she says. Her mind wanders for a moment as she pictures riding the bike on those same roads her sister had travelled once upon a time. She'd never gotten a real chance to ride a real bike before their time in Ohio had come to an end. Natasha had promised when she was big enough, she'd let her ride her bike, but they'd left before she was old enough. Maybe this was a way to have that chance.
"Look, I know you don't really know us, but…" Barton trails off as he searches for the words. "Nat was family to us, and you were her family, so that means you're family to us. I know it's hard and probably awkward as hell, but…we'd be happy to have you visit now and again. As much as you want."
Yelena stares down at the jacket in one hand and the keys in the other.
"No pressure, of course," he continues. "If you wanna take the bike and the jacket and never come back, that's your prerogative. But you don't have to be alone. And if you ever need anything, let me know. Nat never asked me to look out for you, and lord knows you're more capable than I'll ever be, but if you need me and I can help, I'll be there. No questions asked."
She looks up and meets his gaze, though he looks slightly distorted through the tears she's holding back. She considers his offer. These people are not her family, and yet there is something about knowing they had been Natasha's family that pulls at her. They, it seemed, had known the real Natasha, the one she'd kept hidden from most of the world. Aside from Alexei, Melina, and Mason, they are the only links she has to her sister.
"I know you are retired," she begins slowly, "even if you are doing a shit job of being retired," she can't help but add, "but if you need help, you can call me. I will answer."
He nods solemnly, understanding the weight of her offer. It wasn't often that people like them made such promises, and she knows that he knows this.
"I really loved her," he says, and she sees the tears in his eyes the same as she'd seen on that night in New York. "It should have been me that day, and I've spent every single day since wishing that it was."
Without thinking, Yelena shakes her head. "No. You were right in New York. She made her choice." Yelena looks around them, clocking every detail that screamed family to her. "She chose to save you so you could come back to this. To them. We need to honour that choice." He nods, hastily wiping at the tears that had escaped. "And I think," she continues, "that it would not be so bad to visit sometimes."
He smiles. "I'll see if I can find those maps. Could use a tuneup before you take her for a spin," he advises with a nod toward the bike. "If you want, I can bring Cooper out when he gets home later. Kid's a genius with that kind of stuff."
Yelena nods. There's a small part of her that is eager to meet the other Barton children that had wormed their way into Natasha's heart.
"And I think Lila might have a few of Natasha's clothes if you want. Honestly, it's mostly jackets though. That woman had more leather jackets than any one person should ever own, I swear."
Yelena chuckles along with Barton. It's not what she wants — to have her sister back with her — but meeting the Barton family and getting these tangible reminders of her sister...it's something.
so...would love to hear your thoughts. as always, comments and feedback are welcomed.
