Chapter Text
1
The last time Yelena stood atop a skyscraper with no parachute, she was wondering what it would feel like to jump. It wasn’t the feeling of freefall that interested her, nor was she curious about the feeling of her body hitting the pavement, her world cutting to black.
What intrigued her was the act of surrender. How would it feel, to know that there was nowhere else to go? That she could stop worrying and stop fighting and just let herself fall?
She has come a long way since then, but she doesn’t think she’ll ever forget that feeling. That darkness. It lives inside her now, tucked away behind her ribcage, twisting itself into knots every so often to remind her it’s still there. She takes a shallow breath and feels that familiar twinge.
It’s still there, that’s undeniable, but it’s easier to deal with. More of an inconvenience than a devastation. She can usually shake it off by talking to Bob, or going on a run, or throwing knives. But in the past few months, she’s found comfort more and more through the one and only Kate Bishop.
Even now, there’s a lightness in her chest as Kate’s words from just a few minutes ago echo in her mind. She had been telling Yelena about Franny and Greer’s exciting plans for the night, something called a ‘bar crawl’. Why are you spending the night up here alone on a rooftop when you could be with them? Yelena had asked her.
I’m not alone, Kate had responded immediately, I’m with you. And then, when the worried twist of Yelena’s mouth hadn’t faded: Trust me, Yelena, I’m exactly where I want to be.
Like she can read Yelena’s thoughts, Kate picks back up on the conversation now as if it had never ended. “What about you? I’m surprised the gang isn’t doing anything tonight.”
The gang is presumably Kate Bishop’s newest way of referring to Yelena’s team. More commonly known as the New Avengers or the Thunderbolts, both names which Yelena has repeatedly vocalized her distaste of.
Yelena chooses to let the gang slide for now. It’s certainly better than Kate’s previous few attempts: the squad, the bros, or worst of all, Yelena’s friends.
“Ah, I think they are doing something or other. I did not pay attention to the details. I decided I see enough of them as it is,” she shrugs.
Kate hums and turns herself to face Yelena, abandoning her previous position leant over the rooftop railing. Yelena is mirroring her before her brain has time to catch up, but she groans when she sees a cocky playfulness overtaking Kate’s expression. “So, what I’m hearing is... you don’t see enough of me.”
She fixes Kate with an unimpressed look, ignoring the traitorous warmth that spreads through her chest at the sight of Kate’s teasing smile. “That is not, in any way, what I said.”
“Mmm, you implied it, for sure.”
Yelena narrows her eyes. “This may come as a surprise, but not everything is about you, Kate Bishop.”
Kate, as always, is unphased by Yelena’s cold response. It would drive Yelena crazy if it were anyone else, because with anyone else, the coldness would not be an act. But Kate knows just as well as Yelena does that this brand of standoffishness is a part of a game they play, the push and pull that they’ve been perfecting. “Yeah?” Kate plays along, not missing a beat. “So how come you’re here with me instead of them?”
There’s a twinkle in Kate’s eyes that brightens when she spots the corner of Yelena’s mouth twitch, the beginning of a smile that Yelena suppresses just a bit too late. The fact that Kate notices this at all can be blamed on her unfortunate habit of flitting between Yelena’s eyes and lips whenever they’re talking close together like this.
Yelena tries her best to look stern. “Would you stop being ridiculous, please?” Kate makes a noise of protest but Yelena rolls right over it, turning away to refocus on the view of the city. It’s not nearly as beautiful as the alternative, but also not as dangerous. ”It is almost time.”
This proves to be a successful distraction when Kate checks her watch and twists back over the railing. “Shit, you’re right. 11:58!”
New York sprawls out in front of them, unimaginably vast despite their high vantage point, perched on some skyscraper that Kate had insisted they sneak to the top of, to Yelena’s easy agreement. They take it all in, settling back into the companionable silence that they’ve been weaving in and out of all night, both of them more introspective than usual given the occasion. The two minutes stretch on lazily. Finally, Kate, who has been keeping an eye on the time, begins a countdown as they both watch the city come alive.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
Kate nudges Yelena with a wide grin and Yelena joins in on the count, eager to be a part of this American tradition.
“Seven! Six! Five! Four!”
Over the last hour, the dark sky has been lighting up with the occasional firework, but now it fills with more and more color each second that passes. Perhaps Kate’s watch is a few seconds slow. Yelena doesn’t mind; as long as she and Kate are on the same time, she doesn’t much care what the rest of the world does.
“Three! Two! One!”
But Yelena realizes immediately that she had been mistaken: Kate’s watch is perfect, it must be, because the second they finish the count, a low thrum of noise rises up to them as thousands of voices shout in celebration, and the sky blooms into color.
Yelena has not had the opportunity to enjoy many fireworks in her lifetime, and she marvels at them now. Light bursts from the darkness like exploding stars, leaving behind bright colors which streak down the sky. Each burst is accompanied moments later by a booming pop of sound that echoes all around them. The sheer number of them, going off in such uncoordinated disarray, create a symphony of light and sound that leaves Yelena breathless.
Kate has surely seen many firework displays of similar magnitude, but still she watches this one with a childlike glee, like it’s her first time, too.
“Happy new year, Kate.”
Kate redirects her attention to Yelena, and none of the wonder in her dims despite the change in subject.
“Happy new year, Yelena.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, stupid grins on their faces, impossible to suppress with all of the beauty surrounding them. Yelena is the first to look away. “So tell me,” she says, “Was this year everything Kate Bishop had hoped and dreamed for?”
Kate rolls her eyes playfully at the teasing tone, but grows thoughtful as she looks out over the fireworks, mulling it over.
“Honestly? There were a lot of not-so-great spots, obviously, especially in the beginning. But lately? Life’s been good.” She looks back at Yelena with a certain air of disbelief, punctuating the last statement. “All the Bishop Security chaos is finally cooling off and the Hawkeye work keeps growing. I’ve got Clint, I’ve got Lucky, I’ve got great friends, I’ve got you.” Yelena tries not to be distracted by the fact that Kate apparently places Yelena in a category of one, separate from her friends. She’s only partially successful, but she tunes back in as soon as the white noise in her brain dissipates.
“...I think I just want life to keep doing its thing.” Kate shrugs, as if it’s just that easy. Maybe it is, for her. “What about you? How did this year treat Yelena Belova?” She bumps her shoulder and adopts the same light-hearted tone that Yelena had used to deliver the question, giving her an out in case she wants to joke it off. But Kate had given her something real, so Yelena wants to do the same.
If she’s being honest with herself, this year has been kind to Yelena, too. The problem is, she tries not to be honest with herself on this particular topic. After all, she’s only experienced some approximation of happiness twice before, and both times she had paid the price. Maybe, if she doesn’t look it in the eyes this time, it can’t be ripped away from her.
But it’s hard to deny it on a night like tonight. Color is still painting the sky and sounds of celebration surround them. She knows that her teammates are out there somewhere, making their own tiny contribution to the spectacle. Or in Alexei’s case, maybe a not-so-tiny contribution. They’re probably talking about Yelena, theorizing about where she had run off to. (Because let’s face it, they are all a little bit obsessed with her. It is incredibly embarrassing for them.) And on top of it all, Kate is here, huddled a little closer to her than necessary, looking at her with that soft smile that seems reserved just for her.
Yelena has to admit, it would be pretty cool if every day of the new year could look like today.
“I like what you said,” she finally declares. “I will say the same.”
Kate could easily call her out on a cop-out answer, push her for details, tease her for her lack of imagination. Maybe she would on a different night, but tonight, she accepts it easily, smiling brightly like it’s the answer she was hoping for. Then she slides her hand down the railing to cross the short distance between them, stopping short as soon as her hand grazes Yelena’s. “May this year be like the last, then,” she murmurs.
And there Kate goes again, looking at her eyes, then her mouth, then her eyes. She’s not entirely sure Kate is aware of it, but it affects Yelena all the same. Not to mention, it feels heavier tonight, weighed down by the expectations of a new year celebration.
Yelena allows herself to consider what it might feel like, if she were to kiss Kate right here on this rooftop. She has no doubt that Kate would respond enthusiastically, and it would be a nice time to do it, the perfect way to start the new year and to honor an age-old American tradition. But she thinks she’d like a little bit more time, at least, before she looks this thing in the eye.