The mission had gone sideways faster than either of you expected. Smoke from the broken pipes filled the abandoned factory, acrid and thick, making every breath a fight.

You started coughing, chest tightening, the unmistakable pressure building. Panic flared in your eyes as you patted your bag. Nothing. Your inhaler wasn’t there.

“Detka?” Yelena’s voice cut through the chaos, calm but sharp. She noticed instantly—the way your chest was heaving, your fingers clutching at your throat. “You didn’t bring it?”

Your eyes widened. “I… I forgot it!”

“Okay, okay,” she said, scanning quickly. Then she dug into her gear with practiced efficiency. “I’ve got an emergency one. Just breathe slowly and focus on me.”

Smoke made your lungs burn, and each inhale felt like shards. Your hands shook. “I can’t—”

She grabbed your shoulders, steadying you. “Yes, you can. Look at me. In… and out. In… and out.”

Her fingers pressed the emergency inhaler into your hands, and you fumbled to get it working. She guided your grip, positioning the spray just right.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you,” she whispered, her forehead brushing yours as you pressed the inhaler. The first puff hit your lungs, and relief started to creep in, slow but undeniable.

Yelena held you upright, rocking you gently as your breathing steadied. “See? You’re fine. That’s it. You’re okay.”

You leaned into her, chest still tight but easing. “Thanks… Lena… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smirked, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face. “You’d still be panicking somewhere in that smoke, and I’d be having to drag you out. But don’t worry—I like being the hero sometimes.”

You laughed weakly, still catching your breath. “You’re always the hero.”

“And you,” she murmured, voice low, almost teasing, “are mine. Inhaler or not.”

Even in the smoke-filled, chaotic mess of a mission, her presence grounded you. Your chest loosened, your heartbeat slowed, and for a moment, it wasn’t just survival—it was just you and Yelena, together, unstoppable.