No Tears | NR

Chapter 55

Avengers Compound, USA

Classical music was playing through the speakers in a spacious room. A Russian Composer: Rachmaninoff. The lights were just bright enough to see the floor and the walls. But Natasha didn't need more light. Her eyes were closed as she moved her arms gracefully. She had difficulty letting go of her thoughts and focussing on the music, but still, she slowly but surely felt her head get clearer. Memories of long-gone times resurfaced.

She remembered her ballet lessons in the Red Room. Those could hardly be described as good memories. The perfection that had been demanded from her was inhumane and almost impossible to accomplish. Yet, those were some of the least terrible experiences she had at that place.

Still, even then, she had never felt as helpless and hopeless as she did now. Natasha found herself missing those gruesome ballet lessons and felt a sense of comfort in repeating those motions that were engraved in the brain and her muscle memory.

As the Avenger continued moving to the music, she kept her eyes closed for the most part and let the music flow through her and guide her. This was the best, or rather the least terrible, she had felt since Wakanda and since Yara had left. And Natasha intended to soak every little piece of it up.

That's why she didn't notice the door to the room opening, letting in a slither of bright light, and closing quickly again. Nobody was at the compound other than her, so she had no reason to expect anyone to come here.

The music came to a quiet end with Natasha kneeling on the floor. She stayed there a little longer, catching her breath. Her muscles were tired and sore. She had overworked herself lately during her workouts which started to show.

A sound somewhere in the room that had definitely not been caused by her finally caught Natasha's attention. She opened her eyes and looked around to see what, or rather who, had caused it while she stood up.

"I would have clapped but that just didn't seem right, " a familiar voice said from a dark corner of the room. Even though Natasha couldn't make out her face, she could practically see the smirk on Yara's face. The Avenger slowly walked towards the other woman's silhouette.

"That was absolutely beautiful, Natasha", the same voice added in a sincere tone while its owner stepped forward. The dim light barely illuminated her face, but that's all, Natasha needed. They stopped in front of each other and just stared. Neither of them could quite believe that they were finally together again.

"Steve said you're lonely", Yara joked to break the tension, but it didn't work. What happened with her liking uncomfortable, awkward silences, she asked herself, remembering her first car ride with Natasha back in Norway. Even though that had only happened a few years ago, it felt like a completely different time and world to her. So much had changed since then. That was probably the one time, that she had been in the right place at the right time; the day she met Natasha.

Something pulled her forward which interrupted her train of thought. It took her a second to realize that Natasha had her arms wrapped around her.

"This is nice", she commented teasingly but meant it sincerely as she returned the hug.

"Shut up", was Natasha's quiet response. Yara didn't need to see her to know that she had rolled her eyes.

Yara had just dropped her luggage (of which there wasn't much) off at her room. It was the same one she had used before she had left a few months ago. Then, she went to the kitchen to find something to eat. It seemed that Natasha had the same idea.

Yara put together a simple sandwich and took a seat at the high table. Natasha sat next to her with another sandwich on her plate. 

"So ... Any news on Clint?" Yara took a bite of her sandwich. She didn't dare to look at Natasha, knowing full well that this was a dangerous topic to bring up. This could end in a few ways. But Yara couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment, or at least nothing else that she personally wanted to talk about.

"He's alive."

"But?"

"Remember the guy you met in Moscow?"

Yara finally turned her head and met Natasha's eyes. "The one with the hood?"

The blonde Avenger nodded shortly. "That's him."

Yara hadn't finished processing that answer when her mouth went rogue and she blurted out, "What?!"

Natasha's eyes were as unexpressive as usual, but Yara still noticed a faint look of worry.

"His family is gone. His wife, his kids..."

If Yara didn't know better she could have sworn that she heard Natasha's voice tremble just a little bit.

"That's... that's..." Yara stopped talking and turned her head forward again. She didn't know what to say or how to react. This whole thing just didn't seem fair. Why did he have to lose everyone? And why did she have to survive when so many others didn't? Yara would have gladly traded places with any one of Clint's children or wife. But that was impossible.

It made sense now, why that person had been so good a fighter. And Yara couldn't really blame him for what he has become, even though she knew that it wasn't good. In the end, it's the survivors who suffer and not the dead.

The only reaction that Yara could muster, after what felt like minutes of silence, was to grab Natasha's hand and squeeze it lightly. The brunette turned her head again and got her first good look at the other woman since her arrival here.

The first thing she noticed was the look of exhaustion that was evident in Natasha's eyes even though it took a skilled person who knew Natasha very well to notice it at all. Yara knew that the Avenger hadn't given up. She needed to fix everything even though it seemed like everyone else had lost all hope.

Then she noticed that Natasha's hair had gotten longer and her hairline was red. She must have not dyed it ever since Wakanda. Yara felt a pang of grief as she was reminded of the Avenger's blonde sister who was gone now. She assumed that was why Natasha didn't dye her hair. Or it was probably at least part of the reason.

Otherwise, on the outside, Natasha looked as strong and stoic as ever. But Yara knew that wasn't the case. The more-or-less blonde Avenger was good at upholding a facade, but Yara was sure that there were times when even Natasha's walls wavered and crumbled. How could they not?

Natasha, too, was taking in Yara's appearance. The brunette's hair had gotten longer as well but it was still too short to do much of anything with it. Instead, loose strands of it kept on slipping in front of Yara's grey eyes. And just like her own, those eyes told Natasha instantly that Yara was absolutely exhausted. Otherwise, they didn't give Natasha much of a clue about what the brunette was thinking. That wasn't unusual since the Avenger had always struggled to figure that out, but that didn't stop her from being curious.

Natasha's eyes wandered down to take in the rest of Yara. The brunette looked like she had lost weight which had Natasha worry about Yara's lack of self-care.

"I missed you, you know?", Yara broke the silence.

AN:

Short, but I quite like this chapter. It's a day late, but I really wanted to post this as soon as it got done.

Hope you guys like it.