Bishova Oneshots

Hold Me Like a Knife

Summary: Yelena and Kate have some late night chats on a rooftop in Manhattan.
Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
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Kate found her on accident the first time.

The archer, forgetful as always, left her bow on top of Fisk tower after a mission. Half lucid, she haggardly ascended to the rooftop, knees aching and fists swollen. Unthinking, she brazenly opened the rooftop access door, stumbling upon a sniffling Yelena Belova.

Frozen, Kate could only stare wide eyed as Yelena whipped around, eyes red and expression petrified. Clearly, she did not expect company.

On that breezy winter night, Kate had quietly asked her what was wrong, and to her surprise, Yelena answered with candor.

"I'm just..." Yelena stuttered, breaths uneven, shallow, never quite deep enough to fill the hole in her chest. "Sometimes I remember things and I cannot tell if they are real. I do not know if I am remembering the programming, or myself, or something else entirely."

Yelena regretted the words almost as soon as tumbled from her lips. She frowned, crossing her arms and folding in on herself, wanting to sink into the cold hard ground and disappear. Kate couldn't possibly understand what she meant- Yelena was glad for that. After Kate did not respond, Yelena risked a glance up, fearing a look of discomfort, disinterest, or worse, pity.

Instead, as Yelena's eyes met Kate's, all she found was compassion. The archer, bow loosely in hand, set it down again, inching forward. "Do you want to, I don't know... talk about it?"

Yelena, with her bleeding heart feeling like a wound that would never close, a scar that would never fade, nodded feebly.

They talked for three hours that night. Well, Yelena rambled a flowing stream of consciousness while Kate listened, nodding intently along, not possibly understanding but wanting to so desperately. Eventually, Kate's eyelids drooped and her nods grew heavy and Yelena had to walk her home, guiltily helping her to into her apartment.

Kate collapsed tiredly into bed, not even bothering to take off her boots. Feeling intrusive and awkward and regretting her earlier diatribe, Yelena turned to leave wordlessly, resigning herself to never see the archer again out of sheer embarrassment.

But, as Yelena stepped away, Kate took her hand, slender, innocent fingers lacing their way through Yelena's. One of Kate's rings nicked a cut on Yelena's middle finger, though the sting only made Yelena squeeze harder.

"Yelena," Kate said, on the verge of sleep, glazed eyes staring at their hands. "Call me if you need me."

Chest pounding, Yelena had to pull away, but she tucked a blanket over Kate's shoulders before slinking silently back into the night.

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It took three weeks for Yelena to call. It was nearly midnight, freezing cold, and Yelena thought there was no way in hell Kate would pick up. She called anyway, mostly just to say that she had, she tried, oh well. The archer, however, answered on the first ring, subsequently meeting the blonde on another rooftop, two hot chocolates in hand.

"What's on your mind?" Kate asked, hint of naivety in her bluntness making Yelena grin.

Tightly gripping the flimsy paper cup in hopes of hiding the tremors in her hands, Yelena replied, "I'm honestly not sure. I don't know if I can put it into words."

"That's okay."

"But... I called you. Don't you want me to talk?"

Kate shrugged, wrapping her coat tighter around het waist. "I'm here for whatever. If you want to talk, cry, sit in silence..."