"Stupid generator..." Natasha brushed a lock of hair behind her ear as she tried once again to jumpstart the back-up to her little hideout in Norway. She would have to switch locations soon if this kept up. Norway during this time of year could compete with Russia.
The generator sputtered and whirred for a moment before the lights back in the house flickered and came back to life. The Widow huffed and dusted off her hands. She would have to contact Mason soon; being on the run was such a pain.
Natasha stood from her crouched position, still eyeing the crappy hunk of metal with distaste before retiring back "home." At least she would be able to get a little bit of sleep in a heated house before the inevitable.
A yawn escaped the Widow as she closed the door behind her, but as soon as she did, every hair on her arm prickled and stood on end. She was not alone anymore.
Natasha fumbled for her gun, caught completely off guard in an odd moment of vulnerability. Why now? Maybe she was finally losing her grip-
A soft and somehow familiar laugh broke her out of her panic, and Natasha followed the sound with an ever-beating heart.
The Russian woman grinned widely when they looked at each other, but even that couldn't distract from her obviously broken nose. "Hey, poser, your locks suck. Who knows the kind of weirdos you'd get just walking off the street?"
The head rush Natasha experienced was indescribable, but her feet still carried her toward her sibling until her hands rested softly on Yelena's shoulders. "What happened?" Even with so few words, they were barely able to get out as she struggled to control her breathing.
Yelena was here. She was real and right in front of her. How long has it been now? Nothing compared to the 20 years it took last time, but Natasha couldn't ignore the emptiness she felt without her after they parted again.
"Hm..." All the wit Yelena usually had at hand left her the moment Natasha touched her. Everything hurt, and she just wanted to lie down. "You know how it is. Hero's work."
Natasha nodded absently, looking over Yelena's nose before they finally made eye contact. Yelena softened so much under her gaze that Natasha almost pulled away. So, the woman had missed her too. What to do with that information, Natasha wasn't sure.
"Do you need me to set your nose for you?" she finally breathed, her hands returning to her sides.
Yelena exhaled, blinked once, then offered a playful smile. "What, no, hi, how are you? How's the mission? I missed you, Yelena?"
"Hi," Natasha sighed, her lips tugging into a tired half-smile. "How are you? How's the mission?"
Yelena had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking for the rest of it. "Well, I'm injured and need supplies; do you know where I can get some?"
Natasha quickly looked Yelena up and down, looking for something that required more attention than her nose, then nodded. "Come on, let's take care of that." She led her sibling to the bathroom and had her sit on the closed toilet seat lid while she searched for any supplies.
Hands clasped awkwardly, Yelena looked around the cramped room before her eyes settled on Natasha, looking much too focused for a few minor flesh wounds. Dumb sestra...
"Alright." Natasha positioned herself in front of Yelena after she set down the gauze and saline solution. "Are you ready?"
"Pff, born ready. This isn't my first or last broken nose."
Natasha just shook her head. She had had plenty of broken noses herself, but imagining her little sister having to deal with the pain was harder to think about than it should be.
Her fingers lightly trailed along the sides of Yelena's nose, both feeling for where to adjust and using that as an excuse just to touch her.
Yelena tried her best to not melt into it.
"Okay, here we go," Natasha warned quietly before taking Yelena's nose and setting it in one quick movement.
"Arg!" Yelena flinched, ducking away and holding her nose with a displeased hum. "I wasn't ready..."
"But you just said-" The vigilante hummed fondly, rolling her eyes before she squeezed Yelena's shoulder. "You'll be alright, soldier."
She froze up, the temptation to bury her head against her sister's stomach and stay there stronger than ever. She hated this, wanting. Even the hand on Yelena's shoulder was enough to make her forget about the person she was brought up to be. She didn't feel like much of a killer while Natasha took care of her.
When Yelena turned away from her, Natasha pulled back, afraid she had accidentally offended the younger Widow. The quiet became that much louder when Yelena's jaw clenched as she sighed deeply. Had she really messed up that badly?
"Um..."
Yelena looked over a bit.
"Are you okay with me cleaning your cuts?" Natasha asked softly, uncharacteristically unsure of herself.
The blonde's mouth slightly opened as she hesitated, her unease disappearing in light of Natasha's anxiety.
'No, no, you did nothing wrong! It's not your fault, it's mine.'
But instead of an explanation, all that came out was, "Yeah, that's fine."
Natasha offered a curt nod, quietly clearing her throat before reaching for the gauze.
Yelena missed her smile.
Fingers slid under her chin before the Russian had any other chance to wallow, Natasha tilting Yelena's head back for a better angle. The freed Widows had been helping each other with things like this when they had the supplies, but this was already far more attentive. Yelena couldn't help but wonder if the Avengers had ever gotten this kind of treatment.
Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line as she focused too hard on every little mark on Yelena's face, fresh or not. Every beautiful imperfection.
A small hiss seeped through Yelena's teeth when the saline solution made contact with a particularly sensitive spot, but the hand kept her from pulling away.
"I'm almost done, you big baby..." Targeted as her words were, Yelena almost found them comforting, the tone lacking any sort of sting. They were the spoken equivalent of a fond shake of the head.
"I have you know, I'm about to turn 28, practically an old woman in the assassin world."
Yelena saw the slightest smile ghost across Natasha's face before she returned everything to its place. "Then what does that make me?"
Naturally, Yelena just had to smirk. "Basically bedridden."
"Ooo." Natasha pulled back in feigned disbelief, but her gaze was soft, and she looked like she was... having fun?
So why did Yelena feel like she had just been punched in the gut?
"Those are fighting words, Belova."
But suddenly, the younger Widow didn't feel like fighting.
"I... think I have to go now." Yelena got up a bit too quickly, brushing past Natasha on her way out of the bathroom. Their shoulders touched briefly, and the hole in the Russian's heart throbbed. "I mean, I probably shouldn't have come anyway, right? I just..." Missed you. "- thought you'd have supplies. And you were closer than my base."
Natasha found that very hard to believe, but she didn't have it in her to fight it. She followed her sister at a distance, trying to find the right words to say before they parted again. "Where are you right now?"
"You know I can't tell you that, poser," Yelena cautioned, the nickname a reflection to soften the situation.
"Well, you found me, didn't you?" Natasha knew if she pushed any more, she'd risk sounding desperate.
"That was easy." Yelena smiled and tilted her head, but Natasha could only really focus on her newly set nose, the dried blood still sticking just above her lip. "You know I can find you again. And I will."
Natasha nodded, her jaw tightening for a moment. "Find me."
Yelena's eyebrows raised, but she didn't dare say anything else. They'd see each other again. They had to.
xxx
Natasha exhaled sharply, her leg unceremoniously dragging behind her as she reached for the cabinet. "Damn it..." She had gotten sloppy and was paying for it now.
Grabbing sutures, a rag, and some gauze, Natasha limped into the corner of the kitchen and sat against the wall. Sighing, she hiked up her pant leg to expose the shoddily covered bullet wound in her left calf.
Supposed to be on the run, but she just couldn't help getting involved in an operation she technically wasn't even called in for. Maybe Natasha had missed the fight more than she thought. She had to admit the rush felt good, up until the part where she got shot.
Lacking any sort of painkiller, Natasha had prepared to bite down on the rag and deal with the pain, but then... An assassin jumped through the window.
"Are you crazy?! You can't just waltz in and save the day, идиот !" Yelena yelled, holding a bottle of... something.
Natasha didn't care; her sister was back and angrier than ever.
"Do you ever knock?" the redhead asked, even the pain in her voice unable to mask her relief.
"It's more fun to keep you on your toes!" Yelena was dirty, her breath ragged like she had run for miles. But she looked at Natasha with such concern, even with the fist clenched at her hip.
Yelena kneeled at Natasha's side, placing down what her sister now recognized as a pocket-sized bottle of vodka.
"How did you get that?"
"What, you run out of fake IDs or something?" Yelena muttered, turning to get a better look at Natasha's leg.
"Hey." Natasha reached out and held Yelena's forearm, pulling her slightly closer. "You're bleeding," she stated matter-of-factly, focused solely on the hole in Yelena's shirt, torn open by a stray bullet.
Yelena couldn't help but get distracted for a moment, but eventually, she scoffed and tugged herself free. "And you're about to bleed out. I was only grazed, but you just couldn't dodge properly. Thought you were a professional..."
Amused, Natasha tilted her head against the wall and smiled. "Bleeding out might be a little dramatic, don't you think?"
"Like how you just freaked out about me bleeding a tiny bit?" the Russian shot back, the bite noticeably gone from her voice as they really looked at each other for the first time today.
Natasha had heard from one of her sources about a couple of Widows camping out near her, and she knew that meant Yelena would be in the area soon. Acting purely on impulse was not normally her go-to, but she couldn't help it. It was boring here all alone, with no action in sight. She was actually getting tired of Bond movies.
At least, she'd blame boredom as the main reason she'd head straight into what ended up being a battle, earning her what was likely a new scar. Yeah, it had nothing to do with seeing her little sister. Only boredom.
Yelena had recognized her sister instantly, even from a distance. So when she saw the Widow drop, focusing on their mission had gotten that much harder. Stealing a vehicle right after the extraction probably hadn't been her best idea ever, but an injured Natasha blinded her to the consequences.
"If you're so concerned about me, what are you looking at me like that for?"
"Hm." Yelena blinked and averted her gaze. Oops. "So are you gonna let me help you, or are you just going to sit there being all helpless?"
No use doing this dance anymore. "Do your worst," Natasha challenged quietly, holding her hands up in defeat.
"Oh, I will." Yelena smiled a little to lessen the intensity, and hopefully slow down her heart rate. She didn't understand why seeing her injured assassin adoptive sister, while she herself had the same background, made her feel this way. Why was she so protective now?
Yelena slid closer to Natasha's leg, sitting criss-cross on the ground before gently taking hold of Natasha's ankle. "Did you even attempt to clean this, poser?" She tsk-ed, stealing the rag from her sister and taking the top off the vodka bottle. "You're hopeless, I swear..." Yelena carefully turned Natasha's leg until she could see the exit wound. "Got lucky. This should be a quick fix. But it's going to hurt."
An idea instantly popped into Natasha's head. "Well, I was born ready. This isn't the first or last bullet hole in my body."
"Ha." Her words came back to haunt her. Natasha remembered that dumb interaction? "Hilarious. Just for that, I'll make sure it hurts."
But she didn't. She couldn't, even if her younger sister mentality wanted to spite her stubborn sister.
No, Yelena tended to Natasha's wound as carefully and as gently as she could. Her hand instinctively squeezed her sibling's ankle every time she winced in pain. She wished it wasn't like this; she wished they could just be normal, but they were born into the wrong situation. The way Yelena saw it, patching each other up was now the only way they could be in each other's lives. So why not give Natasha the gentleness she never had?
God, maybe she was growing too soft...
"Okay." Yelena leaned back and admired her handy work. "Looks good. But no more infiltrating other people's missions for a while, alright?" She said that last part with a knowing smile and a fond shake of her head.
Natasha easily smiled back. Yelena didn't tell her to never do it again. "Yes, Ma'am." Pulling herself from her slouched position, she wasted no time beckoning Yelena closer. "Your turn."
"Nat..."
"Don't 'Nat' me. You're still bleeding."
"And?"
"Just c'mere."
With an exasperated sigh, Yelena joined her in the corner without another word.
"Was that so hard?"
"Shut up."
Natasha hummed, needlessly (at least, that's what Yelena thought) squeezing Yelena's shoulder before she began working to clean her wound. It wasn't long before the Budapest flashbacks started.
Yelena must've felt the same, because she refused to look at her sister the entire time. Too many memories from that forsaken place.
She felt Natasha gently blow on her arm when she had accidentally flinched, and Yelena could've easily cried right then. The urge to run away again made itself known in the pit of her stomach.
"It's done." Natasha smoothed out the bandage and reclined against the wall. "Be more careful next time."
"You're one to talk," Yelena instantly countered, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. But her gaze eventually drifted back to Natasha, who had already been staring. Instead of looking away, the ex-Avenger softened.
"See you on the battlefield?"
Yelena's mouth opened to reply, but the words got caught in the lump in her throat.
They'd see each other again. They had to.
xxx
The third time it happened, Natasha wasn't as surprised anymore. What was weird, however, was receiving a knock at the door as opposed to a Russian appearing in the middle of her hideout of the week. But she knew it had to be her. Nobody else had been so determined to find her, not even Ross. Yelena actually listened to what she had said last time?
"You have got to find a new hook-up for bandages, sestra; I need them too, you know," Natasha teased as she approached the door, hiding her enjoyment of their game behind a wall that she just couldn't seem to tear down. She hoped when everything had calmed down they would be able to be together for more than just patching each other up.
But when she saw her sister's face, there weren't any recent signs of a struggle. In fact, this was the cleanest she had seen Yelena since reunited, and maybe even before that.
Natasha's eyebrows raised when their eyes met. "Hey. What's-"
Yelena's face instantly crumpled, and she threw herself at the Widow without hesitation. "Natasha..." She whispered her name like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. "Nat..." Yelena's nose leaned against Natasha's neck, and an overwhelming need to protect her little sister washed over her instantly.
"Yelena?" Natasha hesitated before wrapping an arm around the blonde's shoulders, pulling her away from the door as she kicked it closed. "What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"
Yelena shook her head, her shaky breath tickling Natasha's skin before she hesitantly pulled away. She took the arm that wasn't still holding her and pressed Natasha's palm to her chest. "Right here... Here..."
"Your..." Everything clicked, and Natasha's mouth felt dry. Yelena's heart beat against her hand like she was terrified of even being here, let alone having to admit to how she was feeling. Sure, the injuries her sister had endured had been real, but Natasha hadn't been the only option to go to, had she?
"Have I hurt you, Yelena?"
"No!" Natasha's hand dropped away from Yelena's heart as the blonde carefully cupped the sides of her neck, her gaze more intense and alert just at the mere thought of Natasha thinking the worst of herself.
Natasha's throat tightened as Yelena cradled her, so painfully gentle and unabashed.
"No, you keep dealing with me, Natasha. I keep messing up, but you're always there! I just-! I don't want to be alone anymore!"
"You don't have to be." The words tumbled out of Natasha's mouth without a second thought, and the hands on her neck left immediately. "And I... I don't want you to be."
Time seemed to move slower after that. They were at a stalemate, all their cards on the table as they waited, waiting for the other to do something. They were just so tired. Tired of running. Tired of having to put on a good face all the time. But they didn't feel that way standing here now.
Finally, the Widows had a reason to stay put.
Natasha took a slow step forward, then another, until they were face to face. Then, she waited for Yelena to make the next move.
Yelena looked at her like she was capable of moving mountains, so loving and intentional. "You're a sap." She muttered the phrase with fondness, her smile lopsided as she gently pressed their foreheads together. It was easy to tease Natasha, but that didn't mean she wasn't about to burst into tears at any moment. Natasha wanted her. She wanted her.
"Maybe I am." Natasha laughed, leaning into her a bit harder as she started allowing her walls to drop. "Just don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold."
"Oh, right." Yelena poked Natasha's beauty mark, squinting at her suspiciously. "Your reputation of being a wanted criminal. Couldn't mess that up, could we?"
"Correct." Losing focus on their playful conversation, Natasha turned her attention to Yelena's nose, the injury that brought them back together for the first time after they parted again. She pulled back, gently running her finger down the bridge of her nose, checking if everything had healed correctly. "Have you and the Widows been looking out for each other?"
Instead of answering, Yelena closed her eyes and focused on her touch. After everything that had already happened today, what was the point in pretending anymore?
"Hm." Amused, Natasha brushed some of Yelena's hair out of her face, noting not for the first time just how much she had grown. Her little one was not so little anymore.
She eventually cupped the side of Yelena's face and carefully kissed her nose, and Yelena reacted instantly with a tiny whine.
Natasha jerked back, regret replacing everything else when she saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I wasn't... I'm sorry."
"You're such an idiot..."
Startled, Natasha slackened as Yelena took her by the wrists and placed her hands on her face.
The blonde nuzzled against her palm, hoping Natasha would overlook her using it to wipe away some of her tears. "You're not just an Avenger, you know... You're my sister."
Natasha's thumb trailed hesitantly across Yelena's cheekbone, her gaze completely fixated on her as she tried to think of something to say. She knew that, of course she knew that!
"Well, technically, I'm not an Avenger anymore." The words came out with a smile, but Natasha knew it was in vain. It was time to let her guard down for once.
"You don't have to be strong for me."
Natasha's eyes closed when Yelena began calmly stroking her face, and her heartache deepened every time the other woman swiped under her eyes.
Had she started crying, when had that happened?
To be cared for after all this time, instead of cleaning up everyone else's mess, it hurt a lot more than it should.
This all felt so new. These things, these normal things, had always been held just out of reach. Natasha couldn't claim not to have ever wanted it, but she had pushed that feeling so far away that she had almost forgotten about it.
"Natasha?"
"I wish you could stay." She opened her eyes and smiled at the Russian softly, switching to hold the back of her neck. "Maybe it's selfish, but life feels a little easier when you're here."
Yelena aimlessly shook her head, her lips curling down in that signature way it always did when she felt too much. "Not selfish..." Her voice didn't travel far much farther than the small space between them, and the grip on her neck tightened slightly.
Natasha took a breath, and the last shard of the bulletproof glass that surrounded her heart shattered into a million pieces. "I love you." It came out so clearly that she almost startled herself. "I love you so much, Yelena..." The second time felt thicker, the words cracking and dying off along with any dignity she had left.
Not that Yelena ever cared about Natasha's dignity.
"... Do you mean it?" The question was that of a little girl, asking if the monster under her bed had really been vanquished, that of an orphan child asking if someone was finally going to keep her. It caught in her throat, barely even a squeak, but Natasha knew what to do.
Easing up slightly, Natasha rested her lips against Yelena's forehead, prompting the Russian to lean into her harder than she had after Natasha had told her their family had been real to her too. She laughed, kissing her again before she tugged her into a back-breaking hug. "I mean it. I mean it, I promise."
Yelena shuttered, burying her face in Natasha's neck like she had when she arrived, but this time, she had no intention of ever leaving this place again. "I love you... I love you, 'tasha, please, please don't go... I want to stay."
Natasha's eyes squeezed shut, finally, after so long, letting herself forget everything that had happened in the last year. All she could think about was Yelena's breath and the warm tears trailing down her neck. She couldn't even tell whose they were.
Is this what home was supposed to feel like?