Chapter Text
Phil Coulson stood in his kitchen, his fingers drumming lightly on the counter as he watched the coffee brew. The familiar smell of freshly ground beans filled the room, comforting in its routine, but his mind was elsewhere. It had been weeks since the girls arrived on base and SHIELD was still trying to decide what to do with them. Melinda entered the kitchen, her usual composed demeanor masking her exhaustion from work. She noticed the tension in his posture before he even spoke. “What’s on your mind, Phil?” she asked, pouring them each a cup of coffee. He glanced at her, hesitating. “The girls that SHIELD brought in.” Melinda raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of her coffee, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve been working with the older one, basically taking her statements and everything.” Phil set his mug down, running a hand through his hair. “It’s horrible, Mel. What those two have been through... they’re so young.”
Melinda’s expression softened, a rare occurrence that only Phil was privy to. “The Russian’s Maria found?” Phil nodded, his eyes clouded with the memories of the things Natasha recounted and the files he’d read. “They were trained as assassins, practically raised in that hell. They didn’t have a choice. No one is willing to take them, all our foster connects are unequipped.” Melinda stayed quiet for a moment, digesting his words. She had been able to read a few reports, the rest blacked out only for the highest clearance. A deep, familiar ache settled in her chest, but she pushed it aside. “What do you mean, no one’s stepping up?” “I mean no one wants to take them. They’re both volatile, triggers are seemingly random but it’s just because they’ve got so many. It took almost a week for the little one to eat. I met her for a little bit with Bobbi and we only just convinced her, and she’s only eating prepackaged food because she’s terrified to be drugged.” Phil leaned back against the counter, his tone heavy with frustration. “The younger one is eleven and the older girl is only seventeen. They’re kids, we can’t just keep them on base like prisoners or let them go, the KGB is looking for them. They’ve been forced to take care of themselves for so long.”
Melinda stared into her coffee, her mind running through a thousand possibilities. She’d given up on the idea of children long ago. The life they led, the constant threat of danger—it wasn’t something she could bring a child into. She and Phil had agreed, focusing on their work and they both fell into the habit of treating their rookies like family. After Bahrain, she had eliminated it entirely. But hearing the way Phil spoke about the girls, something rose in her throat. “You’re thinking we should take them in,” she said, her voice steady despite the uncertainty.
Phil met her gaze, only a little surprised by her directness. “I am. I know it’s not what we planned, but they need someone. It doesn’t have to be forever, just enough time to find them somewhere permanent.” Melinda took a deep breath, setting her cup down. Her thoughts flickered briefly to Bahrain. She never wanted to be in a situation like that again, she didn’t want to hurt these girls who had already been through so much. She had spent years perfecting the ability to compartmentalize, to detach herself emotionally. “They'll need more than just a roof over their heads, Phil,” Melinda said, her voice quieter now, the weight of her thoughts thickening the air between them. “They need someone who can handle their trauma. They’ll need stability, consistency, and we both know they’re not going to trust easily. What if we can’t give that to them?” Phil sighed, nodding. “I know. But no one else is giving them a chance, and I think they deserve at least that.”
There’s a long pause as Melinda’s mind runs in circles, memories mixing with reality. Bahrain was an example of a child beyond help. If SHIELD was willing to go through all of this to protect them, they weren’t gone. And if she couldn’t help Katya Belyakov, she needed to help these girls. “Okay,” she said, voice soft but strong. “Let’s give them a chance.” Phil met his wife’s eyes, looking for a sign she wanted to take it back. When all he found was her solid resolve, he let out a breath and smiled. “All in?” he asked, embracing her from behind and pressing a soft kiss to her hair. Melinda turned around and returned the hug. “All in.”
Only a day after the girls tried erasing themselves from SHIELD's database, with a deep breath, Phil opened the door to Fury’s office. Fury barely looked up from the stack of papers on his desk, but his tone was sharp and focused. "Coulson. You need something?"
Phil closed the door behind him, uncharacteristically nervous. "I wanted to talk to you about Natasha and Yelena." At that, Fury’s eye flicked up from his work, narrowing slightly. "Go on." Phil straightened, his resolve solid. "Melinda and I are willing to take them in. Just until a more permanent solution can be found, of course." Fury leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing Phil as if weighing the offer against the risks. “Taking in two ex-child assassins. You know what you’re asking, right?” “I do,” Phil replied. “But they need stability. They need someone who can understand what they’ve been through, and who better than agents who’ve seen the worst of this world too? I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but we’re prepared for that. For however long it takes.”
Fury tilted his head, considering. "And May? She agreed to this?" Phil smiled, though it was tinged with seriousness. "She did.” Fury let out a long breath, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "You’re aware they’ll need new identities, it’ll be like witness protection."
Phil nodded. “We figured as much. We’ll help them come up with new names, whatever they’re comfortable with. And we'll keep them close. New Jersey’s far enough from SHIELD HQ, close to the Academy, we’ll still be within reach if needed.” For a long moment, Fury didn’t speak, just watching Phil with his piercing one-eyed gaze. Then, with a sigh, he stood up. "Okay. But understand this, Phil. They’re going to be on you and May. These girls are walking weapons, and the world they’ve been pulled from doesn’t let go easily.”
The agent nodded in acknowledgment. “Yes, sir.”
Fury cleared his throat when the girls entered his office. “We’ve found a place for you to stay.” Natasha’s sharp gaze flickered toward Phil and then back to Fury, distrust clear in her eyes. Yelena, though quieter, leaned into her sister, as if bracing herself for his words. “You’ll be staying with Agent Coulson and his wife,” Fury said, watching for their reaction. “Together. You won’t be separated.” Natasha’s shoulders loosened the slightest bit, and Yelena’s expression, though still guarded, showed a glimmer of relief. Fury continued. “You’ll have to change your names, so take some time to think about it. When you’re ready, go back to your rooms and pack. New Jersey, close enough to headquarters, you’ll be safe for as long as you need.”
Natasha was the first to speak, her voice carefully controlled. "What’s the cover?" Fury smiled internally, she was extremely pragmatic. "Phil’s nieces. Your parents died, and he and his wife are taking you in. Simple enough, but you can be you. Just a different, more American name.” Natasha nodded, her mind already working through the logistics. Yelena, for her part, stayed silent, though her hand twitched slightly against the chair’s arm. "You’ll have some time to think about your new names," Fury added. "Go back to your rooms, pack up. You leave tomorrow morning.” Yelena tuned out the rest of the conversation, Natasha was asking questions, but she was unable to focus. She was really out of the Red Room. They were going to New Jersey. Would it be like Ohio? Would she go to school and pretend that she wasn’t a murderer?
After more details had been discussed and her sister seemed satisfied with the answers Yelena trailed behind Natasha as they walked toward their rooms. Despite having shared the space since their reconciliation, they knew they’d have to return to their own rooms to pack. Natasha hesitated at Yelena’s door, sensing that the younger was lost in her head. But she brushed her off, squeezing Natasha’s hand in assurance and going to her own room to pack her meager belongings.
A knock sounded on Yelena’s door a few minutes later, and she opened it to find Bobbi standing there, holding a SHIELD duffel bag and some toiletries. “I thought you could use these,” Bobbi said, offering a tentative smile. Yelena looked at the bag, then back at Bobbi. “Thanks,” she said quietly, the words coming more easily than she expected after her prolonged silence. Bobbi shifted her weight, fidgeting slightly. “Listen, Yelena… I just wanted to say, if I ever overstepped, I’m sorry. I’d never expect anything in return at all, let alone for basic conversation.” Yelena studied her for a moment, trying to parse the sincerity in her tone. There was something unfamiliar about Bobbi—something different from the adults Yelena had known in the Red Room. She’d never made it seem like Yelena had owed her. After a moment, she spoke in Russian, her voice quieter as she turned away to pack. “People always want something. The guards, instructors, targets. A Widow’s body is a weapon, something to be used. I started seduction training at nine with the Twelves. Nothing’s ever free.”
Bobbi felt a tightness in her chest as Yelena’s words sank in. The way Yelena spoke about it so plainly, as if it was just another fact of life, made her stomach twist. Nine . Bobbi had to fight to keep her face neutral as the young girl continued. “Natasha knows that, she just thought— We both expect it. It’s part of life.” Yelena took a breath, then added, “But thank you. For talking to me. For treating me like a person.” Bobbi’s heart ached at Yelena’s words, but she smiled gently. “I’ll always treat you like a person, Yelena. You deserve that.” Yelena suddenly stopped packing, turning to look at Bobbi, searching her face as if trying to determine whether she truly meant it. "Will I see you again?” Bobbi smiled, “You can’t get rid of me now kid, who else would let me ramble so much?” She had always hated being called a kid—it felt dismissive, like she wasn’t real. But she found that she didn’t mind when Bobbi said it. “Plus it’s always good to keep my Russian sharp.” Bobbi flashed her a playful smile and Yelena ducked her head. “I lose words in English. We had to do a lot of training with accents, but Russian is my own.” Her voice quieted like she was scared to admit something. “My mama taught me.” Bobbi’s expression softened even further. Yelena had never mentioned her mother, Bobbi wasn’t even sure if the girl remembered her. “Well, I need the practice so I mean it when I said I’ll keep in touch. I’m close with May, you know.” Yelena frowned slightly, tilting her head in confusion. “But it’s August?” Bobbi chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Not the month, the name. Melinda May. Phil’s wife. She was my supervising officer when I was a rookie. She’s a good person, Yelena. You’ll be safe with them, I promise.” Yelena nodded slowly, taking in Bobbi’s words. “Okay.”
Bobbi took a step back toward the door, giving Yelena some space. “You take care of yourself, okay? I’ll keep in touch, I promise.” As she headed for the door, Yelena interrupted her. “What’s your last name?” The question seemed out of left field to the agent but she answered anyway. “Morse.” Yelena nodded again, a quiet “thank you” slipping from her lips, barely more than a whisper. Bobbi smiled again, giving her one last look before she slipped out of the room, leaving Yelena with her thoughts.
When she knocked on her sister’s door, Yelena waited for a beat before opening it. Natasha was sitting on her bed, mostly packed, though her eyes were distant as she folded and refolded the same shirt. Yelena lingered in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside. “I’m packed,” she said simply. Natasha looked up, snapping out of her thoughts. “Me too.” Her eyes briefly flickered to the window, the soft light filtering in casting long shadows across the floor. “It feels strange, doesn’t it?”
It felt like she was preparing for a mission, but she was allowed to be almost her. And she didn’t know if she knew how to do that. Unsure of what to say, Yelena shrugged but nodded. She sat down on the edge of Natasha’s bed, picking at the corner of her sleeve before finally speaking up. “They said we need new names. Something American sounding.” Natasha let out a small sigh, leaning back slightly. “Yeah, it’s not like we can keep ‘Natalia’ and ‘Yelena.’ It’s too Russian, too connected to…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but they both knew what she meant. Yelena’s eyes flicked toward Natasha. “Do you know what name you want?” Natasha frowned, thinking for a moment before shrugging. “I guess I’ve gotten used to how you call me Natasha. It feels right. Natalia feels like someone else now.” She paused, glancing over at Yelena. “And for a last name… I don’t know. It needs to be simple. Uncomplicated.”
Yelena nodded, silent for a few moments as she considered her own options. “I want to be Lena,” she said finally, her voice quiet. Natasha looked over at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Lena?” Yelena nodded again. “I like when you call me that, it feels familiar. But different enough.” “What about your last name?” Yelena shrugged, as if she hadn’t given it much thought, though her answer came quicker than expected. “Morse sounds good.”
Natasha watched her for a moment, processing Yelena’s words. She nodded slowly, understanding what Yelena wasn’t saying. She’d felt bad about accusing Bobbi before, almost jealous that her little sister had connected with her while she was isolated at the facility. When Yelena had still hated her . Yelena had spoken quietly about the sealed food the agent would bring and how her insistent talking kept her grounded. “Lena Morse. It sounds good,” Natasha agreed softly. “Then I guess I’ll take it too. Lena and Natasha Morse.”
Yelena looked up at Natasha, her eyes briefly widening in surprise. “You want to take the same name?” Natasha smiled and it reminded Yelena of blue hair and photostrips. “Of course. We’re sisters, aren’t we? We stick together.” There’s a pause before Yelena whispers the question that has been gnawing at her since she woke up with the bandage around her leg. “What if they find us?” She was now the same age that Natasha was when they left Ohio, and they still took her. What if she wasn’t strong enough now?
Natasha’s smile faltered for a moment, her gaze lowering as she set the shirt aside. The room fell into a thick silence, the weight of Yelena’s question pressing on both of them. “If they find us, I’m stronger now. I wasn’t before, but I swear I won’t let them take you. I’d kill them all before they ever had a chance.” Yelena shifted on the bed, her fingers gripping the edge of the mattress trying to ground herself. "I’m scared too, Lena." Natasha’s admission came out softly, like it was something she had been holding in for too long. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached out, gently resting them over Yelena’s. "I’m scared every day. But we survived this long. We’re here, together. We’ll take care of each other, and that’s all that matters." Yelena looked down at Natasha’s hand on hers, the warmth of her sister’s touch grounding her, but the fear still lingered. "What if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?" Her voice wavered, barely heard.
Natasha’s heart ached at Yelena’s words. She leaned closer, making her sister meet her eyes. "You are enough. You’ve always been enough. You aren’t alone anymore." Yelena’s eyes glistened, but she blinked back the tears, unwilling to let them fall. "I don’t want to go back," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I don’t want to be like them." Natasha pulled her into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around her sister as if she could protect her from everything—from their past, from the world, from the nightmares that still haunted both of them. "You’re not going back. I won’t let them touch you, ever again. I promise.”
Natasha tightened her arms around her, resting her chin on the top of Yelena’s head. She could still feel the fear that it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down again. But she wasn’t a helpless kid anymore, and neither was Yelena. She wouldn’t let them take Yelena. Not now. Not ever again. “We’ll be okay,” Natasha murmured, her voice steady despite the uncertainty. "We’ve been through worse, right?" It was a weak attempt at humor, but it still brought a small huff of laughter from Yelena. The younger sniffed, pulling back slightly but still close enough that their foreheads nearly touched. “I don’t want to be alone again,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it was barely audible.
“You won’t be,” Natasha replied without hesitation, her voice firm. She cupped Yelena’s face gently, making her look up again. “No matter what happens, Lena, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Yelena stared at her, searching her face, and for the first time in a long while, she believed her. She nodded slowly, blinking back the moisture in her eyes, and finally let out a long, shaky breath. Natasha reached out, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from Yelena’s face before leaning back, releasing the tension from her own body. They didn’t need any more words. They just laid side by side, Natasha’s hand running through Yelena’s hair like when they were kids. It wasn’t perfect, and the fear hadn’t completely left either of them. But for now, being together was enough.
The next morning came quicker than expected. The night had passed with quiet conversation between the two sisters, neither quite ready to sleep but also not wanting to dwell too long on the future or the past. When the dawn broke through Natasha's small window, they knew it was time. Yelena braided her hair tightly and got ready the same way she always had for missions. When a knock sounded at the door, both got up with their scant belongings and followed an agent to Fury’s office. When they entered, Fury glanced at the girls, then at the mostly empty bags slung over their shoulders. “Everything settled?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, sir.” He gestured to the documents on his desk—new birth certificates, passports, and other identification papers. “Phil and Melinda will be your guardians, at least for the time being. You’re their nieces as far as anyone is concerned, and your parents died in a car accident. A tragic story for anyone who asks.”
Yelena listened, her stomach tightening slightly at how easily their lives could be reduced to lies. I guess it already was , came the tiny voice in her head. In the back of her head, Yelena thought about her mother. Melina . And now she’d be with Melinda. She looked over to her sister to see if she was thinking about the same thing but Natasha’s face was blank as she listened. The younger girl zoned out as she thought about her mother for the first time in years. It was always easier to pretend the Before didn’t exist. It had made the present easier to survive. She remembers her getting shot, her own shirt being covered in blood from trying to keep pressure on her mom. Yelena had accepted that she had died a long time ago, but now she wondered if things would be different if she hadn’t. Would she have protected her daughters? Her father certainly didn’t. The sterile, distant tone of the conversation barely reached her ears. She wasn’t sure why now, of all times, her mind was drifting back to Melina. Maybe it was the idea of new guardians, of someone else stepping in to fill a role she had stopped believing in a long time ago. Could anyone really protect them? Could anyone really care?
A nudge from Natasha brought her back. “Lena,” her sister’s voice was low, gentle but laced with concern. “Are you okay?” Yelena blinked, pushing away the fog of her memories. Natasha was watching her with the faintest hint of worry, her eyes scanning Yelena’s face as if looking for cracks. Yelena nodded her head slightly, forcing a small smile. “Yeah” she whispered, her voice steady, though it felt like her chest was tightening. She had to be fine. She had to stay strong. Natasha didn’t press her, though her eyes lingered a second longer before she gave a small nod. They turned their attention back to Fury, who was now looking at his watch as if keeping to a schedule. “Coulson’s waiting for you downstairs,” Fury said, his tone brisk, serious as ever. “Jersey’s not far, there’s another base close by if needed. Settle in and then we’ll make contact about the rest.” With a few final signatures and a glance at their new identities, they were handed over to Phil Coulson, who was waiting with a faint, reassuring smile just outside the office. “Ready?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever. Natasha exchanged a quick look with Yelena before nodding. “Ready.” The ride down in the elevator felt longer than it should have, the air heavy with unspoken anxiety. When they finally reached the garage, Coulson’s black SUV was waiting for them, engine idling softly. Yelena tossed her bag in the backseat and slid in, her body leaning against the cool glass of the window as Natasha followed close behind.
Phil climbed into the driver’s seat, glancing back at them briefly before pulling out of the garage and onto the road. The cityscape began to blur, buildings growing smaller as they left the heart of the SHIELD base and began their journey towards New Jersey. As they drove, Yelena let her gaze drift to the world outside. The sun was rising higher, casting a soft golden light across the streets and buildings, making them seem less cold, less distant. She rested her head against the window, feeling the soft hum of the car beneath her, and something akin to hope in the pit of her stomach.
The spark had burned out years ago, buried beneath the horrors of the Red Room. But as the sounds of the radio and the city surrounded her, she let herself believe in it again.