The compound is quiet when Yelena finally gets back.

Too quiet. Late enough that the halls feel hollow, lights dimmed low. She shrugs off her jacket, fatigue settling in her shoulders — and then she sees it.

Your door is open. Your light is on.

She steps inside and finds you on the couch, half-curled under a blanket, clearly fighting sleep. A mug sits on the table, honey tea still faintly steaming. Untouched. Her expression softens instantly.

“You stayed up,” she murmurs. You stir at the sound of her voice, eyes opening slowly. When you see her, your face relaxes like you’ve been holding tension without realizing it.

“Hey,” you mumble. “You’re home.” “Yes,” she says quietly. “Come. Bed.” You nod, rubbing your eyes, exhaustion finally winning. She helps you up without a word, one hand steady at your back as she leads you into the bedroom.

You sit on the edge of the bed, movements slow, tired down to your bones. Yelena kneels in front of you, practical as ever but gentle — tugging your hoodie over your head, folding it neatly, handing you your sleep shirt.

“Arms up,” she says. You obey without thinking. She helps you change like it’s the most natural thing in the world — no rush, no awkwardness, just quiet care. When you sway a little, she steadies you with a hand at your waist.

“You are very sleepy,” she notes. “Mm,” you agree. “Was waiting.” Her mouth softens at that.

Once you’re changed, she guides you under the blankets, then disappears just long enough to turn off the light. When she comes back, she slips in behind you, close and warm. Her arm wraps around your middle. You lean back into her immediately.

Yelena presses her forehead briefly to the back of your head, breathing you in. “I am sorry I was gone so long.” You shake your head slightly. “You’re here now.”

She tightens her hold just a little, protective, grounding. The world slows to the rhythm of your breathing — steady, safe. Soon, sleep takes you. Yelena stays awake a bit longer, holding you, making sure you’re settled — before she lets herself rest too.