Catch Me When I Fall // KateLena AU

Woodland Vigil

Yelena Belova was genuinely, truly, falling apart. Kate's words that she spat like venom in Alexei's kitchen, that she created another widow, it hit her like a missile, shaking her foundation, cracking her very core.

Kate was right. Kate was unambiguously, inarguably right. Yelena was out of excuses, out of justification, and going out of her mind. Operating on faulty intel, she had slain an innocent man in cold blood.

Her worst nightmares were coming true. Valentina played her like a fiddle, relying on her unquestioning rage and lethal capabilities. As Yelena had feared, she was once again a harbinger of destruction, unable to shake off her past. No matter how long she was away from the Red Room, she was never truly free.

And not to mention, what would Natasha have thought? In a misguided attempt at justice, Yelena killed the only other person on Earth who loved Natasha as much as she did, and this absolutely crushed her. Imagine how many memories, how many stories Clint had of her late sister. Imagine what Yelena missed out on; imagine what tales vanished like the light in his eyes when she plunged her blade into his back.

Every part of Yelena portrayed this unthinkable pain. Her gait was haggard and wobbly, her face twisted with contemplation and at times, regret. Her fists clenched, shook, ran through her hair, clutched at her sides.

As for Kate, she watched this tragedy of seemingly Shakespearean magnitude play out as the two traversed endless miles of Appalachian forest. Yelena claimed her trailer was close, but the archer was not exactly confident in Yelena's navigation at the moment.

Averting her eyes from the crisis of the woman beside her, Kate directed her attention to the ground. Her feet ached as she trudged along the fallen leaves of the forest floor, boots well worn and rubbing blisters. Her hand still ached, surely broken but at the very least, stable. She was hungry, she was thirsty, she was tired, but somehow, all the physical ailments were a blessing. The more her body ached, the less her heart did.

The more focus she directed toward her swollen hand, her peeling feet, the less time she had to be the traumatized, scarred woman she knew she was now. She had to compartmentalize lest she unravel like Yelena, thoughts fractured and mind reeling.

Kate tried to focus on the few positives she found. It was somehow not too cold out, less hostile than New York or Pittsburg. The trees- ancient, imposing, were a welcome change of scenery from the city. Aromas of pine needles and dirt filled Kate's senses, much more pleasant than exhaust or cigarette smoke.

The cuts on her face were closing nicely; she could probably remove the bandages soon. She was also beginning to feel more comfortable on the run, although that may have been more sad than anything.

Ever the optimist, these silver linings provided Kate with a few fleeting moments of contentment, but they were soon overrun by contempt, anger, and exhaustion.

In a way, it was infuriating that Yelena had turned a corner. Perhaps if she was more calloused, truly stubborn, and dead set in her ways, Kate could absolve herself of any guilt, call it a day- there was nothing more she could have done.

But if Kate had just gotten through to her sooner, made her see reason, perhaps this could have all been avoided. Clint would be were he belonged right now, enjoying the holidays with his family. Nate, Lila, and Cooper would have their father for another Christmas; Laura would have her husband.

Where would Kate be right now had things turned out differently? With her mother deeply embroiled in so much corruption, she was not really sure. Probably just watching Christmas movies and snuggled up in her apartment with... oh, shit.

Kate stopped walking, throwing her arms above her head in defeat. "God damn it."

Yelena barely looked over as she struggled along. "What?"