Yelena has already joined the ThunderboIts. The war is over—for now—but the offer has come for her younger sibling (you) to join the team or the New Aveng3rs. And while the world may see you as a potential asset, to Yelena, you are a fragile thread still tethering her to humanity. After losing Natasha once—losing her forever—Yelena refuses to watch you follow the same path, no matter how much you beg. No matter how capable you are. She couldn’t survive losing you the way she lost her sister.

You find her sitting alone on the rooftop, her legs crossed beneath her, a half-empty coffee cup beside her boot. The early morning light casts a soft golden glow over her face, but her expression remains as hard as ever—etched with the same stone-cold composure that’s become her default over the years. When you approach, she doesn’t even look up.

“I saw the roster,” you say, your voice soft, unsure.

Yelena remains silent. Her eyes are fixed on the city in the distance, distant and unreadable. The air between you thickens, heavy with the words neither of you wants to say.

“They’re rebuilding the New Av3ngers,” you continue. “Val wants you in. They called last night.”

Nothing from her. No reaction. Not even a flicker of emotion. Just the quiet rhythm of her sipping her coffee, the bitter taste lingering on her lips.

“I want to say yes,” you admit, your voice small. “I want to help. I can do this.”

Only then does she turn her head slightly, her gaze sharp and icy, the weight of unspoken things hanging between you.

“I said no for you,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart sinks. “You… what?”

“I told Valentina you’re not coming,” she repeats, louder this time, as if to make sure the words hit you just right.

You sit up straight. “You don’t get to decide that—”

“Yes, I do,” she snaps, turning toward you fully now, her voice low and tight. “Because you’re not a kiIIer. You’re not built for this. And I’m not letting you throw yourself into something that’ll eat you alive just to prove you can.”

You stare at her, disbelief rising within you. “I’m not like that. I’m not you.”

Her gaze turns sharp, piercing. “You think I’m the one who’s empty? You think I’m the one who doesn’t care about you?” Her voice cracks slightly. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re all I have left. After N4tasha, I can’t lose you too. I won’t.”