WHAT: Talking about the musical WHERE: Backyard, Black Widow House WHEN: Backdated to Friday, April 14th, 2023 WARNINGS: Some mentions of apocalyptic events, nothing major STATUS: Complete
In all honesty, Kate hadn’t had much attachment to this stupid musical back home. She remembered when it came out – of course she’d seen it then, dragging Greer and Franny home to the city with her to sit through it on opening night. It was a good show, the right mix of emotional and outlandish and historically murky, with songs that really did get stuck in your head, but she wasn’t planning to revisit it.
Having a production turn up in Vallo was a different story. It was a piece of home she didn’t have before, even if it was something frivolous. There were other things, too – most notably the Avengers Compound, which was a landmark easily spotted on your way out of the city – but none that were really hers.
The Rogers musical barely counted, but it was familiar. Something only she knew, something she wanted to share. She’d jumped right to excitement without considering that, well, it was based on the lives of some of the people she loved most fiercely these days, and maybe it wouldn’t be as exciting for them.
Natasha didn’t often outright refuse her. When it came to dumb stuff that she was half-joking about, like Carol’s game of superpowered baseball earlier in the week, sure. She expected that, and part of the fun was getting a firm no and making dramatic puppy eyes in response. She had given her an ‘I’ll think about it’ this time, after some pleading, but after her talk with Emily, Kate had decided not to push it.
Instead, she went off for lunch and shopping with her girlfriend, letting Emily occupy her mind by having her try on a truly ridiculous amount of clothes for the musical’s opening night. They eventually settled on outfits that complemented each other (and a few other things Kate had bought for Emily she saw a spark of interest) and stashed them away at Emily’s Tower apartment, plans made to get ready together there the night of.
By the time she made it home after Emily went off to work, evening had fallen. It was still warm outside, the peak of spring, and she went straight through the empty house to the backyard to open the door for the animals. Lucky came barrelling out immediately, followed closely by Licorice and Liho, and came running back to Kate with his preferred choice of toy – a chewy, squeaky slice of pizza that she hurled across the yard for him to fetch. She settled into one of the lawn chairs, leaning down to give him ear pets when he returned with the toy for another round.
Natasha had spent the better part of her afternoon drinking with Wanda, then using Steve as a human pillow while she tried to process how she felt about the musical. She knew of it through Kate, of course. But there was a distance to it. That was back home. The comics weren’t a bother because most of them weren’t her experiences, and the movies - well, those she’d just learned to ignore. This musical was hitting differently, though. Something about her very real, very traumatic experiences being trotted out as campy after dinner entertainment left a sour taste in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the vodka.
She made her way home as the sun set and quickly pinpointed Kate’s location in the backyard. She moved through the house soundlessly to join her sister outside. Lucky bounded up to her the moment she appeared in the doorway and she leaned down to greet him properly. “Hey, buddy.” Nimble fingers grabbed the toy from him and she threw it across the yard. As Lucky raced off to fetch again, Natasha moved to drop herself down into the chair next to Kate.
Kate turned to look at Natasha with a smile when Lucky’s greeting gave her presence away. She reached out to grab her sister’s hand when she sat down, twining their fingers together and giving them a squeeze.
“Hi,” she said. The back lights were starting to slowly flip on, adding a little extra glow behind them as the sun sank. She took in the sight of her big sister and pressed her lips together. “Mad at me?”
“Don’t be dumb,” Natasha replied in peak older sibling fashion. “Of course I’m not mad at you.” She gave Kate’s hand a squeeze back as an extra reassurance. “I’m fine, I just needed some time to think about things.”
Don’t be dumb. Kate rolled her eyes, but her smile broadened more. She knew that kind of response meant it was okay, that whatever might be plaguing Nat really wasn’t her fault. It was a worry she hadn’t quite learned to shake off just yet – especially since she had a habit of raising Natasha’s blood pressure.
“Are you ready to talk about it?” she asked. “Because I’m here when you are. Whenever that is.”
“Yeah,” Natasha replied as she watched Lucky bound around the backyard playing and getting some of his endless energy out.
“I’m sorry if I seemed snappy at you earlier. Especially if I made you feel like I was mad at you. I was just caught off guard. I know you’ve told me about the musical before, I guess I just wasn’t prepared for it to be here. It’s…” she paused for a long moment, trying to find the right words. “It’s unsettling for me. Before the Avengers, my life was about being seen as little as possible. And even after that, I was never really comfortable with any sort of publicity.”
She leaned her head back in the chair and looked up at the slowly darkening sky. They were far enough away from the city that some of the stars were already visible. “They’re not my favorite memories. I put on the tough girl act, but I wasn’t sure if we were going to make it out of that.” A lot of people didn’t, which Kate knew intimately well. “I just don’t know if it’s something I really want to relive again. No matter how historically inaccurate it is.” She tilted her head to the side and gave Kate a soft smile.
Kate’s attention turned to Natasha as soon as she started talking, shifting in her seat enough to make Liho, perched on one of the arms, glare at her disdainfully. She hadn’t been sure Nat would feel like getting into the whole thing now. Sometimes she took a bit to process, and it had only been this morning when she’d found out the show was coming out on Vallo’s version of Broadway. She would have understood if Nat needed a little more time to feel it all out.
But the relief that flooded her when Nat decided she was willing to talk was palpable. She wanted to understand. It always created this guilty little twinge in her when she made a misstep around her found family members, and she wanted to be able to correct it.
Her grip on Natasha’s hand had only tightened and, seeming to sense her mood, Licorice trotted over to take over Nat’s lap, a purr immediately rumbling out of him loud enough for both of them to hear.
“I guess I can’t say I get how you’re feeling,” Kate said, after a moment of consideration. “No one’s making a musical out of my boyfriend’s life and including me in it, especially not one made of super traumatic events for our entire universe. It has to be a lot. I totally get why you wouldn’t want to see it if it’s just going to bring up hard memories.”
Even just the big events that were mostly glossed over had been enough for plenty of people to pass on the show. She couldn’t blame them. Half their world had been gone for over five years. It may not be the focus of the show, but everyone knew it was there – half of the second act was devoted to the situation, and Natasha was featured plenty. It didn’t matter that there were movies and comics and all sorts of weird material out there about their worlds or those that ran parallel to it. This was a real part of their world, and she understood why it would hit differently.
“I know I bug you about silly stuff a lot,” she continued, her expression going self-deprecating and a bit smirky. “And sometimes I don’t put the thought into how you’d feel about things like I should. But I’m never, ever trying to make you do something you don’t want to do. You are way more important to me than any musical, okay? You know that, right?”
Natasha turned and gave Kate a look that said Don’t be dumb without her actually having to say it again. “Of course I know that,” she said with actual words as she used her free hand to gently pet Licorice. “I know you’re excited about it, and I want you to go and have as much fun as possible while seeing it. I told you I would think about it, and I still am. I just also don’t want to be the one there to bring everything down.”
Kate knew that look and fine, it was fair. Sometimes insecurity still got the best of her around Natasha and Yelena, particularly her eldest sister. Going from an only child to having two fiercely protective sisters was a big jump for her. She wanted to make sure they knew she loved them back just as hard.
“You wouldn’t bring me down,” she assured Nat, letting her hand go after one last squeeze – reluctantly, for the sake of Licorice’s pets. “I’m just trying to say don’t feel like you have to do this for me. We do a million other things together that we both love, and that’s what matters to me.”
“I appreciate it. And that’s what matters to me too. You’re stuck with me plenty, and vice versa.” She loved Kate fiercely, and while she sometimes struggled to communicate on Kate’s personal timetable, there was very little she wouldn’t do for her. “I promise that if I do decide to go, it won’t be out of an obligation to you. Sound good?”
“Sounds good, boss,” Kate chuckled, another wave of relief washing through her. She even started to relax, settling more comfortably in her chair. “Em and I are already planning to get ready together for opening night at the Tower. I swear she had me try on an entire shop’s worth of clothes.”
She wasn’t complaining; she didn’t mind shopping, though she wasn’t as shoes-obsessed as her sister. She’d even found a dress she was comfortable wearing, no easy feat for someone who generally rejected them out of pocket thanks to her mother’s insistence on them.
As Kate began to relax, so did Natasha. She still had things weighing on her, but it was nothing insurmountable. She’d handled so much worse than a silly musical and some tension at home. She chuckled at Kate’s recounting of her earlier shopping trip. “Let me guess, were they all purple?”
Kate’s immediate reply was a very undignified stuck out tongue before replying, “Not all of them,” with a playful huff. Everyone who knew her even the tiniest bit knew of her signature color, but she did shuffle in some variety, thanks.
“How’s Steve feeling about it?” she asked, shifting the subject back.
Natasha moved her hand to scratch Licorice’s cheeks, a known favorite spot, and the little cat’s purrs became almost comically loud. Natasha didn’t hide the tiny smirk that emerged at that.
“He’s being very Steve about it. Resigned acceptance. Says he’s used to being a showpiece, which makes me want to do bodily harm to all the people who trotted him out as a show horse over the years.”
Steve’s reaction wasn’t much of a surprise. Kate had noted his somewhat lackluster response to the news before they’d devolved into silliness. Now, with some of Nat’s perspective coloring the situation, she could understand why.
“I get that.” She nodded. “There’s definitely an early number that’s probably ripped right off whatever the routine was back in the war. I don’t know if this would make any difference to him, but the show is trying to honor him. It might brush over some things and get kinda murky, but that’s ultimately the goal.”
She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to keep the assurances coming, but they just kept falling out. She sounded much more attached to this stupid musical than she’d ever felt before. Maybe it was just because it felt like something that was hers, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.
“I do think he recognizes that,” Natasha agreed. “Steve is incredibly adept at seeing the best intentions in people even if he doesn’t always agree with the actions.” At that, she turned her head back to Kate and gave her a long look. “You know that whatever the rest of us may be feeling about this, we’re not going to judge you for enjoying it, right? It was made to be enjoyed and our issues are not yours.”
“I know,” Kate sighed, shifting her gaze to Liho for a minute. And she did. She understood now where the elder Avengers were coming from, why it might be harder for them to enjoy the show than it would be for someone like her or Kamala, who had grown up civilians and sort of just stumbled into the younger Avengers ranks.
That didn’t mean she hadn’t started feeling a little bad for her enthusiasm when comments came rolling in with a different tone. She was sure it was part of what had inspired her defensiveness.
She looked back at Nat. “But maybe I shouldn’t, if it’s something that’s hurting you guys. Clint didn’t like it either, and I always assumed it was just because he wasn’t into musicals until now.”
“Kate.” Natasha turned more fully to face her. In her lap, Licorice grumped and gave Natasha a sour look. “Absolutely not. You are really excited about this. You went shopping. Just because I’m not jumping to be first in line for tickets doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy yourself.” She reached her hand back over to Kate and, having had enough, Licorice lightly leapt back down to the ground and sauntered off. “This is a piece of home for you, I do get that. And it’s okay to be happy about it.”
Kate took that hand and squeezed, but it was getting to the point of not enough for her, proximity-wise. She pushed her feet into the ground, dragging the plastic lawn chair closer to Natasha’s so they were up against each other; Liho, like Licorice, took this as her cue to get down, glaring at Kate as she strutted off.
“We need a freaking couch out here,” Kate huffed. She threaded her fingers through her sister’s again, pressing their arms together and leaning over to put her head on Natasha’s shoulder – no easy feat in these clunky chairs. But she needed it. She needed the contact, even if she had no more words to say.
Natasha laughed and turned her head slightly to press a kiss to Kate’s hair. “We’ll go patio furniture shopping soon.” She rested her chin on the top of Kate’s hair as they sat together. The last light of the sunset had lit up the sky with purples, a color that would now forever remind Natasha of Kate. Lucky was rolling around on his back in the grass, and the two cats were contentedly grooming each other a few feet away. She was happy, and incredibly grateful for everything she had here. In the grand scheme of things, a silly musical really wasn’t all that much to worry about. She gave Kate’s hand another little squeeze.
“Want to help me make dinner? I’m making pirozhki.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Kate replied, no hesitation. She was trying to get her bearings in the kitchen, and as much as she loved Yelena, Natasha was infinitely more patient with her on these things. She had managed not to set anything on fire (though she’d set the smoke alarm off a time or two), but she did have the tendency to get a little flustered and overwhelmed in a way that Yelena had little patience for. Natasha was the kinder teacher, and really, Kate would take any excuse to be with her, anyway.
“Did you already make the dough or is this going to be a two-hour make-it-all-from-scratch experience?”
“Lucky for all of us, I made the dough early this morning. If I hadn’t, we’d definitely be ordering in some pizza right about now.” Lucky, hearing one of his favorite words, barked loudly and came bounding back over to them. “Shouldn’t have said anything.”
Kate laughed, free hand moving down to ruffle Lucky’s ears as he raised his front legs to lay across her lap, giving her a big old doggie smile. “Sorry, buddy, no p-i-z-z-a here. But she’ll owe you your very own pirozhki for teasing you like that.”
“I think we can manage a doggie-safe pirozhki or two.” Natasha extended her leg and bumped the dog affectionately with her foot.
Kate gave Natasha’s hand yet another squeeze, still cozily settled on her shoulder despite the arm of the chair digging hard into her side. “I love you,” she murmured. “Don’t leave me, okay?”
Natasha’s expression softened further at Kate’s sentiments. She lay her head against her sister’s. “Never.”