#corpscs

2:00 PM

You had been practically drowning in paperwork for weeks. Days filled with the endless streams of words and numbers on a screen, phone calls and minor mental breakdowns. Just when thought you were ready to start on this set of files you had been putting off. You noticed something about the charts. Or lack there off.

With all your extra work, you had completely forgotten about your earlier memos, which had clearly gone unnoticed. It’s not like you fully expected them to be received, the Emergency Department is always busy with something new. And with all your work piling up, you were really not as on to of things as you should have been.

The filing deadline was fast approaching and it was already after lunch. Your only reasonable option now was that you had to make a personal visit downstairs and search for the assigned physician yourself. You had not been lucky enough to meet her face to face yet, but you have heard of the reputation of Doctor Santos. Tricky and abrasive, with a confident personality of the biggest dick in the locker room. Despite the rumors her overall patient satisfaction has all been mostly positive from what you had seen.

When you finally slipped through the doors of the Emergency Department, and made a beelline for the most trusted face in the room.

“Knew I heard those fearsome finance footsteps, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Dana greeted you as she continued to read the tablet in front of her.

“C’mon Dana, if she swam all the way downstream…What we really should be asking is who is the next victim?” Doctor Langdon added.

“Well unfortunately it’s not you.” You flashed him a sickening customer service smile. He gave you a playful middle finger, inconspicuously hidden close to the top of the desk.

“And actually, I’m looking for Doctor Santos.” You turned to Dana and offered her a real smile, knowing she would help you out.

Doctor Langdon didn’t bother to hold in his cheerful laughter.

“This day keeps getting better.” He smiled brightly to Dana before pushing off the desk. “I hope you have a field day with Doctor Santos.”

Your eyebrows crunched in confusion, staying silent and allowing Doctor Langdon to go return to his patients.

“Good Lord,” she sighed as she watched him walk away. “Santos is in with a peds burn in North 2.” Dana answered.

Your eyes floated around the stream of curtains and empty medical beds before returning to her with a puzzled look.

“That one.” She pointed with a laugh.

“Thank you.”

You waited idly by the curtains Dana pointed to, shifting your weight on your feet to ease your idle jitters. Each minute wasted down here had you only visualizing your work upstairs backing up higher and higher your plate. After seven agonizing minutes Doctor Santos had finished talking with the family inside about care instructions for the wound and exited the bay.

“Doctor Santos,” you grabbed her attention. She turned to you with a puzzled look, eyes turning to read your hospital badge. You introduced yourself regardless before you began to explain your visit.

“I’ve sent a few reminders about charts all addressed to you this past week and I don’t want to believe that all five were unseen or accidentally lost, but I know it could be possible-”

She cut you off with a snort. “So you’re the Piranha?” She asked completely disregarding what you had just stated.

“I have a name.”

“Piranha.” She stated like you were hadn’t just shared your actual name with her.

You blinked twice, lips slightly parted in surprise.

“I need your charts submitted by 4PM.” You snipped.

Someone from across the room shouted for Doctor Santos’ help. She began walking in that direction, leaving you to frustratingly follow her steps.

“I’ll be sure to put it at the very top of my to-do list.”

You sighed quietly, not wanting to give too much attitude with your next statement. Your words came out softer, less bite to the words. They came out scripted and bored.

“If I do not receive them today, I will be reaching out to the attendings to see how we can fix this issue going forward.”

Her steps halted.

“Wow…” She said slowly, expression souring. “tough crowd.”

“By 4PM, please, Doctor Santos.” You give her a customer service smile.

“Yes, Miss Piranha, ma’am.” She gave you a salute with a playful smile.

“Thank you.” You quickly shuffled your way out of the Emergency Department, not exactly privy to witnessing some gruesome scene on accident.

4:00 PM

Nothing.

And thirty minutes later… Still no updated forms have been submitted by Doctor Santos.

As if you didn’t have an enough work to finish up, you spared the time to go back down to the Emergency Department. This time your steps were fast and pointed, irritation clearly oozing from you like a gloomy toxic cloud.

“Uh oh.” Dana’s voice echoed as you bypassed the desk completely.

“Watch out.” Another voice echoed.

“Doctor Santos!” You caught up to her.

“Little Miss Piranha.” She greeted, not slowing down her pace. You ignored the name and kept up with her steps.

“It’s past 4PM.”

“Sorry, I’ve been kind of busy.” She floated her hands around the bustling room.

You waited only a moment to steep in your irritation before continuing to speak.

“I understand that you’re kind of busy, and I kind of have deadlines to maintain in order to not compromise patient’s care based on an easily avoidable financial hiccup with an insurance claim. All because their physician was too busy to give them the time.” You sighed dramatically.

“Or maybe somewhere in your eight years of higher education you never learned how to time manage as well as you thought.”

“Wow. Ouch,” She stopped to turn and face you now that she was at her station. “Has anyone told you that you’re kind of a bitch.”

“All the time.” You nodded, peachy expression still in tact.

You were constantly being berated by unhappy patients and families, always working with patient advocacy. You had grown very thick skin.

“And for your information, I do know how to manage my time.” Doctor Santos informed.

“I just wanted an excuse to get you back down here.” She admitted with a small smile. Your irritation spiked, the poised expression on your face cracking with a flash of disdain.

“You wasted more of my time on purpose?”

“Only a waste of time if you choose to see it that way.” She shrugged.

“Is that not what I just said?” Your eyes darted down to your watch. “It’s taken me six minutes to get down here- six minutes back up, that’s almost a quarter of an hour alone on travel time gone.”

“Okay well, your line of thinking is kind of a nightmare.” She pointed out with a look of surprised disbelief.

“Noted. Why are you holding me hostage Doctor Santos? Have you updated the charts?”

“Oh yeah!” She pulled them up on her screen.

“So, submit them?” You gaped.

“First.”

Your eyebrows raised.

“You have to agree to have drinks with me after work.”

Your entire system seemed to malfunction. Thoughts shut off as you read her expression for any evidence of a jest or mockery. She looked like she hesitated for just a moment, but didn’t back down.

“… Unless you don’t drink. I’m sure we could figure something else out.”

You cleared your throat.

“That is very forward of you, Doctor Santos.”

“Trinity; and is that a no?”

“No...” You hummed in thought, trying to regain control of the situation. “but if you submit your charts you can ask me again later. When my brain stops feeling like it’s going to start melting out of from my eyes.”

Trinity clicked the submission button where her mouse had been hovering without another thought.

“Deal.”

7:00 PM

You could even feel your own anger bouncing off the walls of the elevator as it traveled back down to the ground floor. You were out of the doors before they had even fully opened and began your very direct walk to the Emergency Department for the third time today. Ahmad just so happened to be at the doors, immediately clocking the energy and opening the door for you.

“Everybody look out!” Robby chuckled lowly as he watched your speedy steps travel into the Pitt.

“Piranhas in the water!” Doctor Langdon announced.

Boo! It’s the evil billing department again! You didn’t mind the pointed attitude you received, Someone has to do the job. Surgeons did the real cutting, but nothing really cut quite as deep as the final bill.

Only today the stupid nickname irked you even more. By now, you were well into overtime for the umpteenth day in a row and your eyes felt like cotton balls from staring at your screen for so long, blue light glasses be damned. The look on your face could only be described as something resembling homicidal.

You took the direct path you remembered that lead to Doctor Santos’ station, hoping to see her colleague and roommate hovering somewhere nearby.

“Look who it is,” doctor Santos greeted as you approached. “I really hope that unhappy face isn’t for me.”

“No, I’m not here for you, Doctor Santos.” You gave her a small strained smile with what grace you could find.

“Trinity.” She corrected again. You sighed lightly.

“I’m here looking for Doctor Whittaker.”

Her face pulled into a grin. “Fuckleberry?”

Hearing the explicite version of the rumored nickname out loud almost made you laugh.

Like she was a saint performing a miracle, Doctor Whittaker appeared from somewhere behind her. Your unsuspecting victim politely greeted you as he approached.

“Santos, still not up to date on your charts?” He asked while laughing.

“Honey, no.” Santos gave him a very sarcastic pout, sadistic glint in her eyes.

“Doctor Whittaker, I’m here for you.” You turned back to Doctor Whittaker. His face paled, like he was next up on the execution stage.

“Me?” He looked panicked. “I’m all up to date.”

You gave him a sad smile, handing him a thin folder of printed copies of charts.

“Entirely illegible.”

Doctor Santos continued to wear a smug grin, chucking behind her closed lips.

“I can’t file shit if I can’t read shit.” You explained, voice fatigued. “Punctuation is not suggested. It is mandatory.”

Trinity began to laugh.

“Nice job Fuckleberry! How bad is it?”

“Could be a NASA equation for all I know- I’m not the doctor. I need your revised version in my inbox by yesterday.”

“Yes, sorry, sorry! I-I’m on it!”

“On it, in it, over it. I’ll be here late.” You informed him. “I do expect a call when you update everything.”

“Absolutely, yes sir- ma’am- miss.” He coughed and sputtered over the words.

“Thank you.” You sighed in relief, like feeling a large weight fall off your shoulders.

“I’ll see you later, Trinity.” You offered her a softer smile before turning on your heel and heading back upstairs.

Only when you had turned the corner to exit the Emergency Department did Dennis release the tension from his body.

“What the hell was that?” He asked his roommate.

“What was what?” She kept her eyes glued onto her computer.

“That?”

“Wow,” she extended the vowel, “I can see how your notes were so illegible.” She dodged the question.

“She was totally being flirty with you.”

Trinity pretended she didn’t notice.

“Was she?” Trinity was up and out of her seat before he could say anything else about it.

Dennis might have been right, but for all she knows, he’d do something to jinx it. She just needed to finish out her shift and hope that you’ve completed enough of your own work to agree to go out.

Trinity couldn’t help the grin that spread onto her lips as she smiled at the floor. Already feeling the massive ego boost that she’d gain if she somehow managed to bag the most evil bitch in the building.

10:00 PM

The sun had long set and your paperwork seemed under control for the most part. After a sudden firing and an already planned paternity leave of your colleagues had left you and what remained of the department scrambling to keep up. A knock on your office door had you pulling your head away from your digital work calendar.

You had expected to see Doctor Whittaker, but instead Trinity stood at the door. She had her bag slung over her shoulder, clearly on her way out.

“You’re still here.” She pointed out.

“That I am.” You rubbed at your eyes tiredly.

“Huckleberry fixed his charts.” She raised her right hand. “I even double checked it myself before he submitted, 100% legible- scouts honor.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief, posture relaxing.

“Thank you, so much.”

You quickly busied yourself with double checking the submissions from Doctor Whittaker, ensuring that it gets filed out tomorrow after all the effort you went through to get it today.

“Do Piranhas sleep or?”

“I don’t want to still be here.” You groaned. “I’m salaried anyways, the overtime means nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” Her words surprised you.

“Hm?”

“Dana told me how much work you’ve been putting in this quarter.” She explained. “Almost a one woman show up here.”

There were more empty offices than those occupied on your floor.

“Nina’s been a big help.” You shrugged. You couldn’t take all the credit. “And I don’t mean to be a bitch, I swear.” You laughed.

“This job takes a backbone- I can’t bend rules and deadlines for everyone. And tripling the work doesn’t exactly help.” You sighed. “You get it- Doctoring is hard.”

“I do.” She nodded with a chuckle. “If it’s worth anything I find the bitchiness endearing.”

“That’s sweet.” You giggled, the foreign sound was infectious spreading to Trinity.

“I do believe you still owe me an answer to my question. That is if your eyeballs are still in tact.”

Your head finally dropped, shoulders shaking as you fully laughed and began shutting down your computer. Trinity watched you pack up your bag that was tucked under your desk and pull out your set of matching food storage from the mini fridge to the side. She made a mental note of it because she fully expected to take advantage of it during your work days if this date went well.

“If I’m saying yes, you have to find me a better nickname than a fish.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s kinda cute.” she plucked your lunch bag off the table, leaving you to worry about your purse and work bag.

HAPPY PRIDE 🏳️‍🌈 my goal is to post as much gay shit as i cam this month. first pitt fic,,, i have a few drafted trinity fics that might see the light of day if i’m confident enough ♡ bones

· · ─ tags: yelena belova x f!reader ⋆ nondescript reader ⋆ no use of y/n ⋆ sapphic ⋆ enemies to lovers ⋆ amnesia trope ⋆ angst ⋆ blood/injury ⋆ reader was an original avenger

⋆ track one ⋆ track two ⋆ track three ⋆ track four ⋆ track five ⋆ track six ⋆ track seven ⋆ track eight ⋆ track nine ⋆ track ten ⋆ track ten and a half ⋆ track eleven ⋆ track twelve ⋆ track thirteen ⋆ track fourteen ⋆ track fifteen ⋆ track sixteen ⋆ track seventeen

⚰︎ 𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔢: my requests are open for any of the characters already in my masterlist, as well those not; just ask! · · ─ [ i will not write: rape, incest, age play, pedophilia, zoophilia, vulnphilia, skat, vore, ... ]

⠀⠀

The subway was crowded. You could see the backup from the turnstiles all the from the top of the steps. While you were busy distracted with the group of people, Yelena began pulling you in the direction of the escalator.

“Hey!” Your voice grabbed her attention. “Do you know when I was on the subway last?” You asked.

Yelena halted in thought when she realized there was no follow up statement and you were genuinely asking Yelena this because you didn’t know the answer.

While she was scrambling for a response, she was painfully reminded of your very weird relationship. Yelena also had no idea the last time you had been on a subway. There was still so much about you that she really didn’t know. She regretted her adversity to learn even a shred of real detail about you. She knew the basics- your relevant professional history, your fighting capabilities, preferred food choices when you grumbled at meals. Your favorite color? Favorite type of music? Favorite food? Hopes? Fears? Dreams? All things she had previously never bothered to know. And the one she regretted the most- your relationship with Natasha. You spent years by her side. There were so many of your memories of her sister full of things that she could have learned through you if she had maybe given herself a chance to know you- now all gone for the foreseeable future.

“I don’t know.” Yelena finally blurted. “I’m sorry.”

When she felt herself spiral further when you shrugged off her answer while nonchalantly taking in the different advertisements and artwork lining the walls. Yelena hated how normal that was for you. Living in this constant state of unknowing confusion. In your current state of mind, it did make her feel better that you trusted her so much to be your guide today in the world that you had forgotten about.

“I think I liked the subway.” You suddenly said.

Yelena had an idea.

“Do you have your wallet?” She asked.

“Yeah?” Your eyebrows furrowed at her question, but still, you fished for the item and presented it to Yelena like a gift.

She opened it and sifted through your cards, eventually pulling out a moderately worn out metro card.

“I think you like the subway enough.” She surmised from the wear and tear.

You shrugged again, instead your attention falling on a receipt in a pocket. Your eyes brightening in curiosity- excited to see what you had done recently.

It was a receipt for a cafe. Your eyes skimmed the type printed on the narrow transfer paper successfully locating the date of the transaction. It was fairly recent- maybe only a week or two before that last mission. Order number 417, taken by a Michelle. The contents of the order looked like something you would probably get for yourself based on the coffees that Yelena had been making for you each morning.

“Hey! Maybe we could stop here before we go see the dogs.” You proposed with hope while lowly waving the paper in your free hand.

“It’s your day out.” Yelena reminded. “We can do whatever you like… within reason.”

Your face broke into a grin, already planning to get whatever what listed on the receipt in some lame attempt to magically fix your brain.

“Watch your step.” Yelena grabbed for your free hand that was not occupied with the receipt and pulled you over the bottom lip of the escalator.

You stumbled lightly when your bad knee buckled from the sudden turn. You tightened your grip on the hand Yelena had guided you with, now becoming the one thing preventing you from hitting the hard flooring.

The crowd of people kept bustling around you, receiving no curtesy to your unknown disadvantage. You didn’t fall though, Yelena tugged you out of the surge of people allowing you to clamber against her side for balance when you stumbled free. You were close enough to smell her warm scented perfume that clung to her. The cafe receipt crumpled slightly in your hand as you grabbed onto her jacket.

Yelena had only slowed her pace down to a brief stop while you regained your footing. Only when she was sure you were still stable before she continued to walk, hand still holding onto yours. They stayed tightly linked as you waited in the busy crowd for your turn to use your card.

Yelena seemed unfazed by your joined hands. Instead she stood calmly, eyes scanning over the crowd like a security guard. Meanwhile you stood stiffly and tried to control your nerves. You were growing painfully aware of how sweaty your hands had grown, but she seemed blissfully unaware. Or at least unphased.

Once you had finally gotten through the turnstile and boarded your subway car did Yelena part her hand from yours, but your embarrassment was far from over. She had tugged you into the back corner of the car seating you somewhere against the wall where she could stand in front of your legs and almost block your entire body from view of other passengers.

The position was precarious, your face reaching the height of Yelena’s waist, but once again she didn’t seem phased at all.

“You don’t want to sit?” You asked, neck craned up to her. “We’re getting off at Atlantic…”

“I am fine,” she shrugged, chin turning down to look at you properly. “but if I may ask, where are we going?”

You playfully rolled your eyes.

“Have you ever been to Coney Island?”

Yelena blinked in thought.

“I have not.” She answered while observing your thoughtful expression.

“Is that where you’re taking us?”

You offered a shy smile.

“Maybe….”

“Alrighty then.” Yelena shrugged.

You paused cautiously gauging the tone of Yelena’s reaction, almost as if you were bracing for her rejection. Maybe it was nothing or maybe it was muscle memory of what your relationship had looked like before your accident.

“You don’t think visiting Bucky’s old stomping grounds sounds like a stupid idea?” You asked her in a low tone. You wanted to clarify, still fully expecting to be shut down.

“It really might just be the last place he would think to look.”

The smile on your face was irreplaceable.

“BUT- I’m placing down some rules. No running, or jumping, or riding the rides. I will not be returning you broken.” She listed off activities like she had when you talked about walking the dogs.

“Heard. Absolutely, totally understand.” You agreed, more excited that she was on board.

You could barely contain your excitement the rest of the ride. Yelena never moved from her spot in front of you, it was only halfway through the ride did you realize she was standing there to block your injured knee from other passengers...

⋆ ⋆ ─

The abandoned service station smelt like dirt and old oil. Depending on what direction you faced when you moved, you got a whiff of some sort of animal that had been long dead.

Bucky had instructed his captives to sit in the pit of a broken car lift while we waited for his evac. You didn’t blame them for deciding that running from the pair of you would not be worth it. A former Avenger and the former Winter Soldier. Bucky could handle the two super soldiers and the assassin, but you were confident you could figure out how to take down the Ghost if you had the chance.

You found yourself a seat on one of the worn out metal stools. You had chose one out of the four that looked the least destroyed. The red vinyl seat was faded and taped up. Long unused hardware creaked when you spun yourself in a disinterested circle. You weren’t really paying attention to whatever Bucky was talking about. You were irritated. Tired from being pulled from your slumber abruptly, tired of the headache that Bucky’s motorcycle seemed to give you and on top of it all- in the middle of nowhere with a less than savory cast of characters.

You leaned your elbow on the dusty work desk, eyes drooping closed. Maybe you could sleep through his little speech until it was time to go…

“Sorry, I have to ask… Have all of the Avengers gone into politics?”

Your head lolled to the side, eyes cracking back open to see Yelena Belova staring at you from where Bucky had restrained them all. You had almost wanted to giggle at the fact that she was the only one restrained with a rope. No rebar, no fancy electric current to keep her in place. Just a little rope.

You could bet that she could actually find her way out of it if she really tried, but you chose to have faith in Bucky’s ability to tie a knot.

“She’s my backup.”

“I’m his hostage.” You started speaking over him in a flat tone. He gave you a disappointed look.

“Ahhh.” You faked a scream.

The group stared at you in an almost ambarassing silence until the Red Guardian began to laugh loudly.

“Hostage!” He shouted, body lulling forward in his restraint. “That is funny!” He laughed. The cackling echoed off the wall of the old car shop.

“Oh my god.” Yelena groaned.

“Because you can stop hearts! AND- AND blast the planes out of sky!” He was wheezing.

Your jaw parted in awkwardness, eyes shifting to Bucky who wore an exasperated expression.

“No, I am not a part of his congressional staff.” You gave Yelena her answer.

She looked unconvinced.

“You are now.” Bucky suddenly informed.

“The fuck I am!” Your seat creaked loudly as you turned your body to him.

“Your word still means a lot on Capitol Hill. You know that.“

“My word?” You echoed in disbelief. “That is the biggest load of-”

“You’ve got your own set of loyalists, trust me.”

It was Yelena laughing now. You did have some powerful people left that trusted you, but to call them loyalists was one thing. While helping with his online social media presence, you had quietly used your political sway to help Bucky’s campaign. Being one of the last original Avengers currently physically still on the Earth held some weight to it.

“Of course the Avengers have government officials in their pockets.” Yelena said like it was a matter of fact.

“I’m just a likable person, that does not mean I have anybody in my pockets!” You almost shouted.

You felt a flicker of electricity jump through your fingertips as you clenched your fists. You didn’t mean to snap, but the raise of her eyebrows mid sentence had made you angry. The last time you really got personally involved in politics, you ended up a prisoner on the Raft. Not that you regretted most of the decisions you made back then, but sticking your nose into these issues was not something you wanted back into.

Yelena made a pointed hum of disbelief. You scoffed.

“I think my hostage should maybe take a walk.” Bucky suggested.

“And I think I should be asleep in my bed, but apparently we can’t all get what we want today.”

Bucky’s arms crossed, feet shuffling to face you fully. The intimidation you felt had your spine straightening in your seat, lips pinching into a line.

The room grew a little brighter

“I think that’s enough.” You heard John Walker speak up for the first time. You almost felt your eye twitch at his words.

“Nobody was talking to you.” You snipped.

“Knock it off.” Bucky placed his hand up.

The sound of a low ringing began in your ear.

“-Mister soldier, you are making terrible mistake!” The Red Guardian tried to plead.

“Save it for the committee.” Bucky said flatly.

“What committee?” Yelena asked him carefully.

“All of you are evidence in the impeachment against Valentina.” He informed. The Ghost and John Walker began laughing- Yelena signed.

“We don't even work for Valentina anymore,” Ghost tried explaining, her tone bored. “she tried to kill us.”

“We were ordered to destroy all of her secrets.” John Walker began, “but really, we were just sent to kill each other in this vault.”

The ringing grew louder, audible barely above a vibration of a cellphone. The daylight outside of the dirty garage door grew brighter.

“But then we met Bob.” Yelena added.

“Yeah, Bob.” John echoed.

You released a muffled bark of laughter.

“There was a man in the vault.” Yelena spoke carefully. Her tone had you more curious of this Bob. “She's done something to him. It's called Project Sentry.” She continued.

“He shot up into the sky, he exploded and then crashed into this mountain,” Ghost explained further, “and then he died, didn't die-”

“So, you met a mgical man in an underground vault named Bob?” You echoed back sarcastically. Yelena and John grumbled about your attitude while Bucky shifted his gaze to you like he wanted to laugh along, but was trying to remain collected. The growing brightness behind him made it hard to read his expression.

“Sounds pretty special to me… Does he have laser vision too?” You asked. Clearly they all were unaware they had been describing a Superman comic.

“Yes, we got it. He's very, very scary.” Bucky cut your train of thought off.

“Okay… “ The ringing was almost as loud as the low tone of John Walker’s voice as he spoke. “Congressman Barnes.” The light started to bleach out your vision.

When your vision cleared back up, Yelena was not tied up ten feet away. She was sat beside you, one hand holding your wrist on your pulse point. There was a constant pain throbbing at the front of your brain.

“Do not do that ever again.” Yelena stated sternly.

You continued to blink rapidly, body lulling forward, only stopped by her hand gripping the back of your sweatshirt tightly. You pulled yourself back up unsteadily.

“Do what?” You asked almost automatically, eyes carting around your unfamiliar surroundings. A lamp post… a brightly painted trashcan… food stands… people walking...

“Where are we?” You asked another question, more important to you than waiting for an answer for the first. You didn’t know where you were. This was not where you last remembered being, at least that is what you think you thought. In fact, you couldn’t remember where that was.

Yelena blinked at you, eyebrows relaxed, lips parted slightly- you couldn’t quite read the expression, but she looked stressed.

“Coney Island.” She answered slowly. The sounds of echoed music began to register, people and children talking, laughing or some screaming.

“Why?”

“You wanted to.” She continued, tone of voice still in the same low range. You nodded slowly, mindful of the pain in your skull. You were sat on the ground beside a row of plant boxes and a metal fence.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded again.

“Sorry.” You apologized, heavy hands reaching up to rub at your eyes. Yelena pulled the hat from your head, giving you more space to wake yourself up.

“Don’t be sorry.”

“We were in Utah.” You mumbled out. Yelena didn’t say anything immediately, you counted three breaths in before she did speak.

“Utah?”

You nodded again.

Yelena watched your expression shift as you began to wake up more from your episode.

“In that stupid gas station..” You continued, pausing before you spoke again.

“It smelt so bad.” Your voice was almost choked with tears with the admission.

“It did.” She agreed, but didn’t dare move a muscle from where she was sat.

That gas station was your first official meeting face to face. Yelena had stalked you when she learned you had relocated back to the East Coast to lobby for Bucky’s campaign. She ever dared approach you then, instead she built herself a false persona of you that she knew she could hate.

Afraid of the sudden possible confrontation of whatever you may have remembered of that day, she changed the subject.

“Maybe we should head back...”

You shook your head this time.

“No, I’m fine.” You reassured her. “I got it… museum, lunch… here?”

You seemed to be trying to put the day together. She nodded, still unconvinced.

“I’m fine. I just need a minute to… reset.”

Yelena watched your breathing return to a slow pace while the slight sway of your upper body had had stilled. The backs of your hands reached up to your forehead, patting at the sweaty skin before scratching at your scalp. Your posture straightened up with a sigh. She didn’t want to force you back to the tower, but she didn’t want your condition to continue to worsen.

“I really think we should go back.” Yelena tried again.

Your head snapped over to look at her, expression stern.

“I said no.” The bite of your tone was enough to make Yelena back off. It resembled the type of attitude that she was used to hearing from you. Yelena had feared for a moment that your memory had all came back at once, but she doubted you’d ever be so cordial.

Yelena decided to buy you a bottle of water from the stand that was still within her sight. She excused herself to allow you a moment to decompress by yourself. Hoping that it may be enough to bring you back down. When she returned to you with the overly expensive water, you had shifted positions. Back to the fence, one leg outstretched with the other crossed and tucked under your bed knee.

Yelena sat down beside you along the fence and you thanked her for the water when she handed it off to you. She watched you uncap the bottle and take a few greedy gulps of cool liquid. When you had emptied half the bottle, you stretched your arms out. Yelena could clearly hear the series of small pops and cracks from your joints from years of physical wear and tear.

“We still have to walk the dogs.” You sighed, eyes trained on the grass. Yelena wanted to laugh.

“And don’t you dare tell me no.” You followed quickly. “I deserve to see dogs.”

This time Yelena did laugh, “You’ve made your point, no going home yet.”

She could tell you were more alert now. Your expressions were deeper, eyes no longer glassed over.

“Did we ride the Farris wheel?” You asked her another question.

“I said no to rides.”

“It’s barely a ride!”

“It’s 40 meters tall.”

“Even if it’s the only thing I want to do?” You begged, “I swear we can leave after… Please?”

Yelena looked back over to the large rotating carnival ride. You both had agreed on the rules of no rides, or anything that would bring you more injury, but if riding the Ferris Wheel means that it would eliminate you from taking more unnecessary steps around the boardwalk...

Your lower lip was pouted outwards, eyes wide and peeking over to Yelena. She wanted to argue. You had never looked at her like that before and the soft expression on your face was wearing Yelena’s resolve down. She now wondered if her sister had been able to build the resolve to ignore the heartbreaking expression and tell you no. Yelena looked over at the large colorful structure and released a defeated sigh.

“Alright, you win.”

hi divas! i feel like i owe you all some sort of explanation of my sporadic absences but my health has not been the best place so things are weird. life is hard but we truck on. happy pride!! 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️ ♡ bones

⋆ ⋆ ─ thank you so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed my work, likes comments & reblogs are very greatly appreciated and super motivational ♡ ♡ ♡