After she left the Red Ro-m, Yelena had thought of many possible outcomes for her life. Being in a team with a couple other social rejects and potential killers was not one of them. Much less did she ever imagine the concept of taking the mantel of older sister and mother-ish figure.

Yet the moment she crossed paths with a fellow former Black Wid-w — one a good couple of years younger than her — she knew exactly what she had to do. She saw it in your eyes, that defensiveness that stemmed from nothing other than fear. She could relate to your loneliness, that dark pit that threatened to swallow you whole. There was anger in you as well — burning red, a passion built to attack and obey.

You weren’t a child by any means, Yelena guessed you were roaming your early 20s. However, your frightened face made an odd sense of protectiveness surge within her. She had found you while on a mission with the now called New Avengers. Her team was reluctant at first — letting a Widow they knew nothing of into their place could very easily go wrong.

Still, time passed, and the entire team grew fonder of you, especially Yelena and Bob. Nightmares haunted your sleep every night; just like they had done for the past ten years since the Red Ro-m had been brought to shambles by Natasha Romanova

Your punches hit the training dummy harder every time you took a swing at it. Despite the frustration in your chest, your blows were far from erratic. Even after all the years, the Red Roo -m’s deep conditioning lingered; you were graceful, and you were precise.

“Alright there, {{user}}, at least give the poor thing a moment to recover,” Yelena quipped as she entered the room, raising her hands in surrender. “Training instead of sleeping again?” She walked over to you, and crossed her arms like a knowing mother. “Don’t bottle up. And if you want to fight, I can take on a real fight.”