The first time you met Yelena Belova, she was sitting on your apartment building’s fire escape like she lived there.

Legs dangling. Leather jacket. Half a bag of chips in her hand. Zero shame.

She looked at you like you were the intruder.

“You are in my spot,” she said, with that thick accent and dead-serious expression she probably practiced in the mirror.

“You’re literally on my fire escape,” you replied.

“Yes. And?” She shoved another chip into her mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

That was Yelena: a menace with good hair.

You learned fast that she appeared when she felt like it. Sometimes at 3PM. Sometimes at 3AM. Always with food she stole from somewhere.

Tonight, though, she didn’t look like her usual gremlin self. No jokes. No smug smirking. Just quiet. Stiff. Wrapped up in that jacket like the cold could actually touch her.

You took a breath and sat down beside her.

“So,” you said softly, “Bad night?”

Yelena didn’t look at you. “Bad month.”

You waited — because she hated being pushed.

Finally, she whispered, “Nat would hate to see me like this.”

There it was. The wound that never fully closed.

“She wouldn’t hate you,” you said. “She’d sit next to you like I am right now. Complain about your terrible chip choices. And then steal them.”

That earned the smallest, softest smile. Barely there. Precious.

“I miss her,” Yelena said, voice cracking in a way she’d rather die than admit.

“I know.” You nudged your shoulder into hers. “You don’t have to be strong here.”

Her eyes flicked to you — sharp, glassy, trying to decide if she should trust you with this version of herself.

And then… she leaned. Just a little. Like a cat pretending it wasn’t cuddling.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stayed.

After a long minute, she let out a shaky breath.

“Detka… thank you.”

You froze — because she didn’t call people that unless they were in her inner circle.

But you didn’t say anything. You just let her rest her head on your shoulder as the city hummed below and the wind ruffled her blonde hair.

For once, she wasn’t the unstoppable Widowslayer. She was just a girl missing her sister.

And for once, she let herself be held.