Catch Me When I Fall // KateLena AU

Malificus

To Kate, a barrier had formed in between herself and her deadly blonde counterpart. Beyond just the murder, the betrayal, Kate resented her own naïvety, and it drove her away from much conversation as the two bussed, biked, hiked miles and miles down into Tennessee.

Yelena could not change overnight, and perhaps it was foolish of Kate to expect that kind of radical soul searching from a woman who had just slain Clint Barton with little hesitancy.

Perhaps it was idealistic and childish to search for silver linings in this dire situation; no matter how much kindness Kate saw in Yelena, Clint was still cold in the ground.

Perhaps it was stupid to ever think she was a worthy successor of the Hawkeye mantle. She had just advised Yelena that the Valentina situation was not her war, but perhaps Yelena was not Kate's either.

Still, though, Kate felt an obligation to the woman, but was deeply in over her head. Yelena needed more than just a few heartfelt fireside chats. She needed intervention, counseling, real guidance. Kate could be a good influence, sure, an angel on a shoulder, but sincerity was tough when Kate harbored so much hatred.

And boy, did Kate have hatred. She was not even sure what exactly she despised- Dreykov, Valentina, every other warlord who felt entitled to other people's bodies and services. She hated the machine that churned people like Yelena and Natasha out into the world, giving them few options besides kill for pay or die.

She did not want to fully absolve the blonde of responsibility- she took the assignment, she delivered the blow, but really, what chance did Yelena have? Had she not killed Clint she would have ended up killing someone else, and without the personal toll taken on her afterward, probably many more.

Deep down Kate knew hatred and rage had little practical use, like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die, but right now, in the dead of January, the contempt warmed her chest, fueled her fire for just a little longer.

Next to Kate as the two trudged along a highway in the middle of nowhere, Yelena was similarly quiet, fighting her own demons.

Horrifyingly, Yelena was coming to the conclusion that she had no real way of making things right. Death could not be undone, nor the pain she caused, and she struggled to think of real paths to redemption, if any existed.

Every route to recompense that Yelena concocted involved violence of some sort. Killing Valentina, torturing her for information, fighting whoever ranked above the shady woman. For the blonde, the blade was inescapable, blows synonymous with justice.

On the other hand, simply swearing off violence felt too cheap, as that was how most lived normally. Most people don't feel moral superiority because of their choice to not commit horrendous acts of violence, but then again, she was not most people, and a life of pacifism did feel like a way of sparing the world the horrors of her capabilities.

"Can we get something to eat?" Kate asked, nearby mile markers signaling a town up ahead. "I haven't had a meal since Pittsburgh."

Lost in her own world, the words nearly passed Yelena by. She half-heartedly replied, "I don't know. We are almost to Valentina."

"She's another state away. Let's just fuel up."

Resistance thin, Yelena relented. "Fine. But we have to either dine and dash or steal. I spent the last of my money on your new socks."

"Whatever. I'm just starving." Kate almost laughed, walking a few paces behind the woman, hands in her leather jacket pockets. "Don't tell me you're hesitant to steal. What's a few bucks to you after what you've done?"

"I am not proud of what I have done, Kate Bishop. Nor do I revel in thieving."

"Turning over a new leaf? Fucking rich."