Catch Me When I Fall // KateLena AU

Blaze

West Virginia was more beautiful than Kate ever anticipated. Rural, but not remote, rugged, but still charming. Yelena's trailer, furnished with a ratty couch and an old television, offered little except shelter from the rain, wind, and cold, but for now, that was enough.

For the first time in weeks, Kate felt an odd sense of calm. Being out in the woods reminded her of camping trips with her father, evoking nostalgia and melancholy. She was still no where near serene, and could not fully allow her guard to drop, but the soothing affect of nature could not be denied.

Antithetical to the calmness of the forest and Appalachian foothills was the activity Yelena now engaged Kate in. Finally seeing an opportunity, Yelena offered to teach Kate how to handle firearms, and Kate accepted.

"Two hands," Yelena chided, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

"Just once?" Kate asked. She stood with her feet shoulder width apart, gun sloppily aimed at a marked tree a few tens of meters away. Currently, she held the Glock sideways with one hand. "Let me feel like Tony Soprano for a little."

"Who?" Yelena sighed, waving a hand. "Whatever, no way. I don't want you to develop bad mechanics. This is all muscle memory."

Kate glanced behind her, eyebrow raised in challenge. She fired off a round one handed and instantly regretted it, as her arm was too floppy and the recoil nearly sent her stumbling.

"I told you," Yelena continued, unimpressed. "Mechanics."

"You talk about guns so clinically. Like scalpels or something."

"I am surgical with weapons, I suppose." Yelena stepped up behind the archer, hands gently placing Kate in good form. "Again. Properly this time."

The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them, and she staggered back.

"You okay?" Kate asked, almost concerned.

"This is.... hm." Yelena grimaced and took a few steps away, shaking her head. "Sorry. Just a memory."

Kate returned her attention to her form, copying Yelena's confident posture. "Memory of what?"

"Learning to shoot."

"Oh." Stance sure, Kate fired, and this time hit her mark. "In the Red Room?"

"Yes."

"How old were you when they taught you?"

"With rubber bullets? Probably six. They trained us with live rounds at around eight. It's all fuzzy, though, so I'm not sure."

"Eight?" Kate fired another short volley, connecting each time. "At eight I was building legos and playing freeze tag..."

"As most children did. I was playing with knives and widow bites."

With a frown, Kate emptied the rest of her magazine, not missing once. Yelena nodded in approval, then extended a hand to retake the weapon, tucking it neatly into her waistband.

"You are a good shot, Kate Bishop. One day you may be as good as me."

"Hey, they don't call me Hawkeye for nothing."

"No one calls you that."

"They will."

With a sarcastic, "sure," Yelena retired to her trailer, tidying up after crashing for a few days.

As she knew full well, it would be time to travel again soon, but this place was tough to abandon. Once upon a time it belonged to Natasha, who had a penchant for quaint trailers placed in the middle of nowhere. Traces of her older sister lay scattered throughout; her VHS collection underneath the couch, one of her old leather jackets hung in the closet. Unthinking, Kate slung it over her own shoulders, and Yelena allowed it. She deserved it more, anyway.