Catch Me When I Fall // KateLena AU

Journeymen

Yelena was rattled. Not just from the dust up, the close call, the premature abandonment of a prime safe house in the city. Not even from the less than smooth ride the Greyhound bus to Pittsburgh offered, her head bouncing off the window pane should she try to lay it to rest.

No, what had deeply shaken Yelena was the crumbling of her own self conception. Introspection, awareness, having a keen instinct on what others thought about you, were skills she honed through years of careful observance and training. Or at least, she thought.

Kate Bishop's inquiry, wondering if she would have been slain alongside Clint, it gave Yelena pause. Apparently, the other woman viewed her as just a ruthless, violent weapon of destruction, and the blonde struggled with a quandary- was she?

Once upon a time, she unquestionably was. When she was with Dreykov, controlled by chemicals, made subordinate ever further by brainwashing and indoctrination. Back when she was a nameless, faceless instrument of chaos no different than a knife or a gun.

Yelena thought everything had changed, thought she had changed, upon her release. She freed other widows, she did good for once, but benevolence could not last forever. The Blip, losing Natasha, Valentina's proposition, finding Clint... it all happened so quickly, and being so blinded by grief, she never stopped to question things, never paused to rationally reflect.

Maybe she naïvely thought that the mind control alone was what made her a monster, not the killing or the violence or the sabotage itself. Maybe the alternative was too painful. The crucial question Yelena asked herself now as she sat at the back of the bus, one seat between herself and Kate Bishop, hands shaking- was she still a monster without subjugation?

She had the same skill set, lethality, and much, much more rage. The key difference now was her free will of where to direct that rage, and so far, the outcome remained constant. She killed now, just as she had then, and in a way, with her choice to do so, maybe she was worse.

Above all, Yelena hated herself for turning out exactly how Dreykov intended. Even with him long dead, his control left in the past, Yelena could not shake him. Here she was, a contracted killer. The patron changed, sure, but disappointingly, maddeningly, Yelena realized she had not.

Glancing out the window, Kate caught Yelena's consternated expression in the reflection, saw her trembling hands sitting atop her lap.

"Are you good?" Kate asked flatly, more out of courtesy than anything.

"Hm?" Yelena looked over in confusion, then down to her hands, wringing them to soothe the shaking. "Yes."

"If you say so."

As Yelena made no further conversation, returning to her brooding state outlooking the passing forest scenery, Kate settled back into her seat, one leg outstretched into the aisle.

The bus, with its grumbling engine, nauseating wobble, and less than ideal heat, was sort of charming to the archer. A few other haggard passengers occupied the vessel, and Kate could not help but wonder what their stories were.

Perhaps the young couple up front with their large, worn backpacks were on a cross country road trip, or perhaps the middle aged lady with frizzy white hair was on a journey to visit her grandchildren. Somehow, though, Kate had an idea that her story may be the most harrowing.

The passengers most eye catching to Kate, though, were the two a few rows ahead- a father and his young daughter. The girl, dark haired and clad in a yellow hoodie, slept curled up against her father's side. The man, with similarly shaded dark curls, read a book and tried to keep still despite the bumpiness of the carriage lest he wake his daughter.

An unexpected smile broke onto Kate's face, and she realized it was the first one she had worn in days. She could not help the soft grin as she watched the duo, slipping into memories of happier days.