Natasha has never really believed in - fate or destiny or some higher force behind it all. How could she, with the way they were raised? With the things they've both been through? But there's a small part of her, just a sliver, that wonders if maybe the universe brought her back to finally right some of the things it got horribly and completely wrong.
She stays quiet and lets Yelena cry it out. One arm is locked around her, her other hand rubbing her back. Its clear that she's been bottling up a lot and she can only be grateful that she's here as it all finally comes bursting out.
Once the tears seem to be subsiding, she waits for a moment that Yelena is taking a breath in, and then whispers, "you better not get any snot on my shirt." Look, its a bad joke. But she's pretty sure that's exactly what she's going to need to loosen her grip on the things she's been holding on to.
She has always been more emotional than she likes. She can bottle it up, batten down the hatches and compartmentalize as much as the next one, but eventually? It always leads to something like this, and some part of her always feels so weak for it.
But at least Natasha won’t judge her. Her sister won’t see her as somehow less because of it. If anyone could understand it, it’s her.
It’s the arm curled tight around her, the warmth of a hand gliding across her back, that manages to keep her grounded. As calm as can be expected in a moment like this.
And it’s the sound of her sisters voice that disrupts the moment enough she laughs. A soft, slightly strangled sound, but still technically a laugh. “Shut up,” she murmurs.
It’s still another moment or two before she finds the will to let go of Natasha. What if she just disappeared when she did? What if none of this was real, just something she made up in her head, and when she steps back from it all, she will have to face a world without her sister again?
But she can’t just stay clinging like a barnacle to her sister all night on a ‘what if?’, so eventually she pulls away, swiping her hands under both eyes. “я тебя люблю…”
It all circles back to the Red Room. To those long years of training and conditioning. Even now, there's times that she feels more like a weapon than a woman. She's always both, of course, but on good days it all sort of...balances out. There's a peace in letting all the facets of herself co-exist. Sometimes she wonders if she'd have gotten this far without that time in Ohio. Without Melina bloody on that sand washed landing strip telling her not to let them take her heart.
When Yelena finally lets go, she leans back in her chair, smiling a little as she watches her sister try to wipe her face clean. "Aww, you big sap..." her voice is low and teasing, another buffer the same way her last joke had been. They've spent so much time apart. More than they've ever spent together, really. Which means they've missed so much time that she'd be foolish not to take this opportunity for what it is. A second chance. Her tone softens as she answers, "И я тебя люблю."
"No more than you," she quips back, but she can't stop the soft smile at her sister's response. She knows, of course she does, but it's nice to hear it anyway.
Her eyes are puffy from crying, but the time from the oven pulls her more out of her head, gives her a solid thing to focus on doing for a few minutes. Remove the pizza from the oven. Find the pizza cutter, slice it up, plate a few slices for both of them.
"Ta-da," she declares as she sets one plate in front of Natasha, setting the other one down and perching in a seat across from her.
"Can't prove it," she counters, and it's almost an automatic call and response. That affectionate, meaningless bickering that identifies them as siblings more readily than any birth certificate ever could. She snags the bottle to take another quick sip while Yelena tends to the picture and tries not to think about how...normal this all feels. The urge to find a thread to pull, to try to figure out why she's back among the living is like a persistent scratch at the back of her mind.
She'd walked by a pizza shop earlier that day advertising pickle pizza. This one looks considerably more appetizing.
With a quick thanks, she picks up one of the slices but doesn't bite into it yet, giving it a moment to cool down. "So, what'd I miss?" There's dry humor in her voice, like she can't help but be aware of how absurd a question it is. But it's still an important one to ask.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yelena you sweet baby angel 😭
She stays quiet and lets Yelena cry it out. One arm is locked around her, her other hand rubbing her back. Its clear that she's been bottling up a lot and she can only be grateful that she's here as it all finally comes bursting out.
Once the tears seem to be subsiding, she waits for a moment that Yelena is taking a breath in, and then whispers, "you better not get any snot on my shirt." Look, its a bad joke. But she's pretty sure that's exactly what she's going to need to loosen her grip on the things she's been holding on to.
I love you;
But at least Natasha won’t judge her. Her sister won’t see her as somehow less because of it. If anyone could understand it, it’s her.
It’s the arm curled tight around her, the warmth of a hand gliding across her back, that manages to keep her grounded. As calm as can be expected in a moment like this.
And it’s the sound of her sisters voice that disrupts the moment enough she laughs. A soft, slightly strangled sound, but still technically a laugh. “Shut up,” she murmurs.
It’s still another moment or two before she finds the will to let go of Natasha. What if she just disappeared when she did? What if none of this was real, just something she made up in her head, and when she steps back from it all, she will have to face a world without her sister again?
But she can’t just stay clinging like a barnacle to her sister all night on a ‘what if?’, so eventually she pulls away, swiping her hands under both eyes. “я тебя люблю…”
no subject
When Yelena finally lets go, she leans back in her chair, smiling a little as she watches her sister try to wipe her face clean. "Aww, you big sap..." her voice is low and teasing, another buffer the same way her last joke had been. They've spent so much time apart. More than they've ever spent together, really. Which means they've missed so much time that she'd be foolish not to take this opportunity for what it is. A second chance. Her tone softens as she answers, "И я тебя люблю."
no subject
Her eyes are puffy from crying, but the time from the oven pulls her more out of her head, gives her a solid thing to focus on doing for a few minutes. Remove the pizza from the oven. Find the pizza cutter, slice it up, plate a few slices for both of them.
"Ta-da," she declares as she sets one plate in front of Natasha, setting the other one down and perching in a seat across from her.
no subject
She'd walked by a pizza shop earlier that day advertising pickle pizza. This one looks considerably more appetizing.
With a quick thanks, she picks up one of the slices but doesn't bite into it yet, giving it a moment to cool down. "So, what'd I miss?" There's dry humor in her voice, like she can't help but be aware of how absurd a question it is. But it's still an important one to ask.