Chapter Text
The sun rose slowly over Manhattan. Yelena’s legs, tired from hours of sparring, hung over the edge of the building. She hadn't slept at all last night, Natasha's face showcasing every time she closed her eyes. She reached up, attempting to rub the tiredness out of them as the emerging sun's rays hit her face.
Life had been all but strange since they became the new Avengers. Deep down Yelena had wished they had remained under some silly name like the thunderbolts. As the name of the Avengers came with such large expectations—expectations her sister was able to fulfil, but not Yelena. She was not her sister, she was no match to replace her. No one ever could.
She yawned, taking in the icy morning air. Goosebumps from the cold air sprung up along the exposed skin of her neck. The less sleep she got, the colder she felt. She looked over the city and she saw vast buildings, cars billowing through the streets, and birds dancing with each other through the skyscrapers. She watched as the city slowly began to bustle to life, with lights flickering on in rooms across the high-rises. Inside people began their day, taking part in regular people activities—such activities so foreign to her. They went about their days knowing that they were safe. A sense of security brought about by the very building Yelena sat on—rather what the building stood for.
In recent weeks Valentina had ensured that the building would return to its previous symbol of security with the placement of the Avengers symbol back onto the building. The sign’s light shone brightly across the city for all to see. Broadcasting that the Avengers were back, or rather a knockoff version of them—providing some sense of security. This city, getting brighter by the minute, was their responsibility. Yelena’s responsibility. Such a sense of responsibility sent a weird feeling throughout her chest, and down to her gut.
She could run and not look back. She’s not ready for this. She is not Nat. She's not even a good person. She has blood on her hands. Blood, which no matter how many people she saves, will never wash away.
— — — —
“Good morning, Lena! How would you like your eggs?” Alexei sings as he cracks eggs over a pan.
The kitchen was filled with steam, from a pot bubbling away on the stove. As Yelena reached over to turn on the extractor fan she saw what seemed to be some version of what a poached egg is meant to look like cooking away in the boiling pot. She swiftly turned the stove down slightly, hoping to avert an overflowing bubbling pot.
“I’m good, I ate already this morning,” Yelena lied as he cracked a second egg into the pan on the other hob on the stove.
“Oh, early morning. You know I used to get up before the birds, however I can not hear the birds here. So now I wait for the voice in the walls to wake me up….” She listened to him rant on about his new living quarters as she walked over to the coffee machine on the counter. She failed to mention she hadn't slept last night, or even the night before. In her eyes it is fine, she will eventually pass out from exhaustion, and she will sleep then. However, till then she will have a cup of steaming hot coffee. “...I asked Val to change the blinds as they were letting in too much light. She said she’d help me but its been three weeks…Yelena are you listening?”
As she poured the coffee into the cup Bucky entered from the hallway, dressed in a black suit, tailored snugly to his body, and a blue tie. In one hand he held a briefcase, and the other held what looked like legislation. Lines and lines of legislation.
“I’m heading down to DC, hav’ a few things to tie up.” He explains as he grabs a travel mug from the cabinet. “I'll be back on Friday after the session is over. When I'm back, Val has some silly mission for us. Probably another one of her PR stunts.”
“Mandatory?” Yelena sighed, her eyebrows pulled together in annoyance. Alexei turns away from his concoction on the pan, a large grin setting across his face. He has been begging Val for a mission in recent weeks, something about wanting to show the world how big the Red Guardians ‘guns’ are.
“Ah yes! Lena, I told you America needs the Avengers” Alexei cheers, with a fist comically punching the air.
“Yes, if you want a roof over your head.” Bucky gruffs back at Yelena's comment as he pours some of the coffee into his travel mug. “You’re all to be ready to go Saturday morning. That means everybody.”
“Even Bob?” Alexei questions as he turns back to the stove.
“Even Bob.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Walker asks as he smoothly walks around the island unit, beelining for the freshly made coffee. “Did I hear something about a mission?”
“Yes, details will be sent out in the next day or so…” Bucky stops momentarily in his words, focusing on tightening the lid on his travel mug, attempting to avoid the mistake he made last time. “... familiarise yourself with the plan. Yelena you're running point.”
That certainly wakes Yelena up, and her eyes dart to a leaving Bucky. “What? No you've made a mistake.”
Bucky sends her a small smile as he makes his way to the hallway. “As I said—familiarise yourself with the details, and I don't make mistakes.”
Then he was gone, travel mug in hand. Yelena could hear the sound of a quinjet starting up down the hall, on the dock. She sighs, and grabs her forehead, attempting to rub the stress lines away.
“What’s got you looking like you're about to die?” Ava calls out to Yelena as she saunters into the kitchen.
“Bucky gave her point on our mission, " Walker grumbles as he spoons sugar into his coffee. Yelena can sense the sourness in his world. For the last few weeks, he has been trying to establish himself as the team's mastermind. He thinks of himself as a new sort of Tony Stark-like figure, the brains of the team. Yelena doesn't have the heart to tell him that his image of himself could not be further from the truth.
“Mission? You mean another one of her silly public performances. I'll pass.” She chuckles cynically as she pours the last of the coffee from the pot into her mug. Ava had taken on the main role in the Val hate club. There is not a day that passes where she does not critique Val’s antics. She doesn't even spare Val when she's in her company, instead, she uses it as an opportunity to communicate her dislike for the villain who had cornered her into the role in her puppet show. Yelena, however less vocal about her dislike of Val, felt the same about the woman.
“It's mandatory.” Yelena grumbles as she hops off the seat she had been sitting on. She slowly shuffles to the coffee machine, setting it up for a fresh second pot.
“Mandatory my ass.” Ava mumbles as she almost skips out of the kitchen.
Yelena sits back down in her chair. She watches out the window at the city which has now come fully alive, to the side she can see Bucky’s ride taking off. To the left of her, the TV on the wall showcased the news channel. Although the audio was muted she could see the images behind the host's head, images of herself and the team. She didn't need to hear what they were saying to understand what they were discussing. It more than likely followed suit to the general discourse in recent weeks, about whether they were capable of replacing the Avengers.
Suddenly, her attention diverts to the figure who had just entered the Kitchen. She hadn't heard his padded footsteps making their way up the hall. His feet, only covered by socks, slowly made their way to the coffee machine. Yelena studied the back of his figure as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet above the machine. She watched as his white t-shirt strained across his muscular back as his arm reached up for his favourite blue mug on the top shelf, his shirt rose slightly, and she focused on the bare skin that was now exposed just above his sweatpants band.
“Thanks, for sticking on a fresh pot.” He thanks Alexei as he places the mug on the counter. Yelena watches the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles at Alexei. The way his mouth formed a sort of strained smile, closed but welcoming all the same.
“Robert, how would you like your eggs? Fried? I can even do scrambled—just for you?” Alexei blabbers as he scrapes an overcooked egg that had stuck to the bottom of the pan onto a nearby plate.
“Scrambled sounds good.” He turns towards Yelena, the blue mug held with both his hands as if he were trying to retain some of its heat. “Morning, Yelena.”