The time of year when the temperature dropped was always one of Kate’s favorites. The chill came with the reminder of Thanksgiving, of Christmas, of the opportunity to spend time with her mom after a long semester at school. It reminded her of that spike of excitement, even as the holidays themselves inevitably came with disappointment when galas and schmoozing took up most of the little one-on-one time she got with Eleanor Bishop.
Last year, the lead-up had come with a touch of bitterness – dealing with the revelation, once again, that her parents had made criminal choices and weren’t the innocents she’d always believed them to be. That feeling had been cleared out quickly by her very new girlfriend’s enthusiasm for Christmas. Having someone who matched her energy and wanted the quality time holidays was a breath of fresh air. The new home she’d made with Natasha and Yelena was filled with Christmas craze, and she thrived in the indulgences they offered her.
This was the homey, welcoming vibe she’d always wanted, and finally, she had it.
She’d tucked herself onto the porch swing out front this particular evening, one of the blankets from the living room couch tossed loosely over her shoulders. Emily was still at work, so was Yelena, and last Kate had seen, Natasha was off to change and shower after dinner. The stars sparkled out here in a way they just didn’t in New York – less smog, less light pollution, most likely – and she was, for once, enjoying the quiet, hands wrapped around a mug of hot coffee.
Still, when the front door creaked open, her attention shifted easily in that direction, lips curling quickly into a smile as Natasha walked out onto the front porch.
“You know the second you came out here, you signed up to get cuddled, right?”
Natasha shrugged in surrender before she moved to sit down next to Kate. “I’ve accepted my fate.” She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, leggings, and a pair of ridiculous fuzzy Christmas socks that Yelena had gifted her with at some point. She was still plenty warm, but it didn’t stop her from shouldering her way under the blanket next to her sister and swiping her coffee with one fluid movement.
“They’re pretty aren’t they? The stars.”
Kate made a perfunctory noise of protest when her coffee was stolen but let it go without a fight. With her hands now free, she took the time to wrap the blanket around them both properly. It was a huge, soft thing, plenty big enough to accommodate them both and keep them warm. As soon as that was settled she leaned right into Natasha’s side and slipped her hand into the crook of her elbow.
“They’re really pretty,” she agreed. “Almost two years here and I can’t get over how different they are.” She peered up at the sky again, looking for any sign of familiar constellations, but as usual there were none. “We must be really far away from home.”
As Kate wrapped the blanket around them and nestled into her side, Natasha leaned in and rested her head against her sister’s. It was warm, comfortable, and completely effortless. They just fit together. She took a sip of the coffee and passed it back over again as they both contemplated the sky above them.
“Do you think you’ll ever get to a point where this feels like home instead of there?”
Kate took a sip next, leaning away just briefly to set the mug on the windowsill beside her, so her hands were both free to attach to Natasha, wrapping around her fully. She always loved the way Natasha fit against her; it had taken her some time to get her this malleable and accepting of her clinginess.
“I think this feels like home,” she amended after a moment. “A different home but still home.”
She did love Vallo, despite its faults and the pain it caused. She had a whole life she loved – her sisters, Emily, an extended family in the Avengers, an extra dad figure in Daud. She had built a life here, brick by chaotic brick.
Sure, back in their world she had Clint. She had the Bartons’ whole family, if she was lucky. But she also had a mother in prison after she’d put her there. She had no idea where Yelena was or if she even truly cared about her past their dealings over Christmas. Natasha was gone, and the chances of getting to ever know her were nonexistent.
“Whatever’s back there, I don’t want it as much as I want to be here. Not even close.”
There was no denying the smile on Natasha’s face as Kate went into expert cling mode and wrapped both of her arms around her. She wasn’t always the most physically affectionate with others, but Kate was a unique case.
“Yeah, me too.” Of course it was an easier choice for Natasha, who didn’t have much to go back to in multiple timelines. Even if that wasn’t the case, though, she’d still feel the same. There was no retirement at home, not really. Clint and Tony had proved that well enough. With everything that she’d been through already, Natasha was content to hang up her superhero hat and just enjoy a semi-regular life with her sisters and family.
“Good,” Kate murmured. She worried sometimes that wasn’t the case. She knew Natasha didn’t have any desire to go back – and in the timeline Kate came from, at least, there was nothing to go back to anymore. But they’d also lost a lot lately. Steve was the first big loss, gone not even a year after he’d come back. Now there was Torunn and Peter.
“I wish there was a way we knew we would stay here forever,” she sighed softly, cheek against Natasha’s temple. “I can’t stand the thought of losing this. You, Lena, Em.” Her grip tightened and the next breath came out a little shaky. “That’s the only thing that scares me about this place.”
She hated to sound paranoid, but part of her was terrified Vallo was picking her people off. The three who had gone so far, they weren’t so bad. They had lives and could pick right up where they’d left off. Not everyone she loved was so lucky.
Kate’s words caused an ache in Natasha’s chest. She hated the worry there, and the fact that she was so utterly helpless to do much of anything about it. She could promise that she’d be here, but they were all at the mercy of Vallo’s whims. She sighed, then reached her hand out to gently squeeze Kate’s arm.
“Маленький воробей, you’re never going to lose us. Not really. Even if one day we’re not here, we’re always going to be with you. Just like you’re always going to be with us. That’s how this family works.”
Tears welled in Kate’s eyes against her will and her chest felt suddenly tight. She’d done a good job of acting like the losses hadn’t hurt her. For the most part, she really was okay. But the back to back of it all – not just Peter and Torunn, but Eddie, even Adam – had scared her more than she wanted to admit. She’d cared about those boys, but it was nothing compared to the sort of loss she could still suffer.
Could but hadn’t. Not yet, anyway.
“I know,” she murmured at last, pressing her face into the spot where Natasha’s shoulder met her neck. “But I don’t want it to come to that.” She knew her sister’s words were meant to be comforting, and they were, a little. But it didn’t make the thought of her being gone any easier to stomach.
Natasha was quiet for a long moment as Kate kept her face pressed against her shoulder. She could feel the warmth of tears through her sweatshirt and her heart gave another painful squeeze. When she finally did speak, her voice was lower and rougher than usual, an effect of the lump of emotion currently in her throat. “I don’t either.” She cleared her throat softly so that her voice returned to something a little closer than normal when she continued.
“If there was a magic spell, or some scientific formula to keep us here, I’d do whatever it took to get it a hundred times over. I love you, Kate. You, and Yelena, and James, and everyone else - you’ve given me so much here. You’ve pushed me to grow, made me a better person. I know it’s impossible not to worry when we’ve already lost so much, but we can’t spend our time here afraid of what might happen one day.” She turned her head to press a kiss to the top of Kate’s dark hair. “That’s not what Avengers do.”
Yeah, there was no stopping the tears anymore. Kate really didn’t know what had come over her, why she was letting this suddenly hit her. She had probably been avoiding it for too long. She was good at doing that – repressing – even when it didn’t seem like it. She knew she gave off the impression that she rambled out most of her feelings so there was nothing to hold back, but that wasn’t always the case.
No one knew that better than Natasha. Emily and Yelena were close seconds, but Nat beat them out. She knew the way she processed, that she got quiet and stifled sometimes when it was all so overwhelming. But that just meant the outburst was inevitable, too, and she was glad, at least, that it hadn’t happened in that losing-her-cool way it had before.
“I know,” she repeated herself, her voice still shaky and her face ridiculously soaked with tears. She should try to wipe herself down, but she couldn’t bring herself to let Natasha go when she had her right here. “I just love you so much, and the idea of losing you scares the hell out of me. I really, really try not to dwell on it, but everything lately–”
She let out a breath that was half sigh, half huff and lifted her head to meet Natasha’s eyes. At least she was pretty sure she met her eyes – tears were still clouding her vision.
When Kate finally raised her head, Nat gave her a soft look. In her heart she knew that she’d do anything for the woman sitting beside her. Except that she couldn’t give her the one thing she truly needed - security. She raised her free hand up and used the sleeve of her sweatshirt to dry Kate’s face. “I know. And I love you too. That fear that you have? That we both have. That’s all this love in our hearts, and that will never be a bad thing. It’s okay to let it out with me. Come here.”
She gently tugged her arm out of Kate’s grasp, but only so that she could firmly wrap it around Kate’s shoulders instead. She pulled her in close as her sister switched to clinging to her waist instead. She fixed the blanket around their shoulders, but never lessened her hold on Kate. It wasn’t much, but it was what she could give her right now.
Kate didn’t hesitate to sink into Natasha when she turned to her and pulled her in. She let her cheek rest on her shoulder, clutched the back of her shoulders, and forced out a few slow breaths as she clung to her sister. She had to try to regain just a little bit of composure. She knew Natasha wasn’t judging her, even without the gentle words she’d used to reassure her, but she always hated feeling this way, hated putting too much on her shoulders.
Being held, being so fiercely loved was felt and needed so much right now. She wanted to just be able to enjoy the moment – usually, that was exactly what she did, lived for what was right in front of her. But the feeling of dread had overcome her, and it was stupidly hard to shake.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. She sniffled and raised her head again. She tipped her forehead down against Nat’s and plastered on a smile – one that felt, and likely looked, exhausted. “Didn’t mean to get so dramatic all of a sudden.”
Natasha gave Kate another soft smile and a squeeze. “Don’t be stupid,” she chided. “As if anyone in this house ever apologizes for being dramatic.” Her smile morphed itself into a slight grin as she coaxed a laugh out of Kate.
Kate did let out a laugh, tired but genuine. It was true; the residents of Black Widow House were known for having a flair for the dramatic. Natasha was most controlled, of course, but Yelena and Kate both liked to put on a show sometimes. And sometimes, like now, the moment just got away with her altogether.
“I know,” she agreed, “but this was kind of a weird time to go down that rabbit hole.”
Natasha just gave a small shake of her head. “I don’t think it’s a weird time at all. Given everything that’s happened the last few months, it makes a lot of sense. I hope you haven’t been holding in too much.”
“I don’t know.” Kate sighed and shrugged, shifting to give Natasha a little more space, though her arm slid right across her shoulders again. “It affected others so much more than it affected me. You. James. It didn’t feel right to be down when you needed me. So, maybe.”
That made it sound like a much more intentional choice than it was. In truth, she’d just decided she was going to be available to lean on, and there hadn’t been a second (until now) that she’d strayed from that. Losing Steve and Torunn had been impossibly painful for two of her people, but she could manage. Even now, it wasn’t their losses she grieved so much as the potential it presented to her. It felt a little selfish.
Natasha couldn’t speak for James, who she knew was still struggling under the immense weight of losing Torunn, but she was another matter. “I’m okay, Kate, I promise. And if there’s anything else that you need to get off your chest, I’m here.” She gave her sister a knowing look. “And no, it’s not selfish of you.”
“Stop reading my mind,” Kate grumbled, leaning her head back against the swing and very lightly swatting Natasha’s shoulder. She wouldn’t be so easily convinced, but she appreciated the sentiment anyway.
“Okay, meltdown time over,” she declared. Then, grinning over at her sister, she said, “Tell me a story.”
Kate’s grumpy look earned a laugh from Natasha and she gave a small shoulder shrug. As she requested a story, however, Nat tilted her head and gave it some real consideration. “What kind of story?”
“One of your missions with Clint?” Kate suggested. She had nothing specific in mind; she just liked hearing Nat’s voice, and she always liked hearing about her S.H.I.E.L.D. days with her would-be mentor. She hadn’t really gotten the chance to connect with him the way she’d wanted back home before she’d ended up here. Getting to know him through Nat was as close as she could get.
That brought out another smile. God, Natasha missed Clint so much. All of the Bartons, really. She wouldn’t trade her life here for anything, but she missed her best friend and his family. “I’ve got the perfect one.” She readjusted the blanket around their shoulders and let Kate get comfy before she continued. “Picture it, Belgrade, 2005, we were sent in to deal with some criminal organizations that had started trying to get a little too much power after the Yugoslav wars. Clint bought some meat on a stick from a street vendor and it was not pretty.”
As Nat continued with her story, she pulled Kate in close and the stars seemed to grow brighter beyond them. When that story was done, she told another, and another. She’d happily sit on that porch with Kate forever if they both could.