———
Yelena looks for comfort in places only she could afford. John continues to be haunted by the sins of the past.
———

{Ohio, U.S.A.}

Knock, knock, knock.

Three large Roast Beef Sandwiches, two fries, a soda pop, and a Jamocha milkshake. That was what Alexei Shostakov was waiting for as he watched Sunday Night Football in his little house in Ohio. Truth be told, as Russian as he was, he loved the simplicities and entertainment that America provided.

He loved watching people rough each other up. It was even better that he got to watch it as a form of entertainment. That was why he was eagerly waiting for his favorite team, the Philadelphia Eagles, to take on the Kansas City Chiefs. For him, this was as if the Red Guardian was going to take on Captain America.

He knew what the outcome of that would be.

Which is why a smile formed on his face when he had heard a knock on his front door. His Arby's would be here and it would be a Sunday night in heaven. He was truly living in that "American Dream."

"I'm here!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. Thus, he waited for the delivery person to leave.

However, three additional knocks followed once again. This annoyed him. Usually, these DoorDash interactions were much shorter and the delivery person would be much more impatient with his tardiness.

"I click leave on porch!"

Silence. That must have-

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

Alexei was debating on throwing his bowl of popcorn outside of the window. This was the nosiest DoorDash driver he had ever experienced. Even if the Eagles would have won that night, this interaction would bother him for the rest of the work week. This was his hell.

"Your subordinates will be reported to DoorDash HQ!"

"Alexei, it's me, open up." A familiar voice of a young woman echoed into his house.

That woke Alexei up. He had not heard that voice in so long. It instinctively made him sit up, lower the volume of the television, and stare straight at his front door. It could not be. The last time that they had seen each other, it was by coincidence at work last year. They were on good terms, but he did not expect her to show up.

He confirmed it by shouting once again, "Yelena?!"

"Yes. Your daughter."

Just like a dog that had been waken up, Alexei jumped at the opportunity to freshen up. He picked up a robe on the floor to cover his naked body and stumbled into his kitchen floor. There were some cabinets he may have smashed into while trying to look for the mints that he vaguely remember hiding in his refrigerator. When he could not find it, he tried to buy more time.

"Hold on~~~!" Accepting his defeat, Alexei settled for the dish soap that was on his sink. He sprayed it across his golden teeth, wiped it with his finger, and washed it off with water. That would do. "I'm coming!"

Exiting the room, he grabbed a few pizza boxes that were scattered along his front hallway and tossed it into an empty room to the side. Little did he know that he had thrown it into his bathroom. Alexei did not pay any mind until he reached the front door.

This was his daughter. He had to look responsible.

Fixing his beard and the last remnants of hair on his head, he straightened up. After all, he was a responsible father of two back in his hay day. This was like his daughter coming to visit with their significant other and some kids. Only for him, it was a daughter trained to be an assassin at birth.

"Yelena!" He opened the door and found that it was, indeed, his daughter. A little tired by the heaviness of her eye bags and a messy make-up, but it was her nonetheless.

As much as she tried, Yelena offered a sincere smile this time. "Hi, dad."

"Oh, dear." Alexei did not even have to try. He smiled seeing his daughter once again. Even more, he went into a hug that she absolutely melted into. Before long, he responsibly let go. "Well, would you like to come inside?"

"Sure."

"Come, come."

Alexei stomped his way to his living room where he was just positioned. He made sure to kick any of the boxes in the way and looked for a reasonable place for Yelena to sit. For her, she was caught glancing at the different posters and paintings that her father had put up. There was a lot of the usual Russian posters that he would regularly purchase, but there were also Red Guardian propaganda scattered through. In her eyes, it was just to boost his self-esteem.

He saw that one of his chairs just had his few robes lying around, so he threw them off and offered the place to her. "Sorry 'bout the wait. I was on important call, highly classified."

"Really?" Yelena checked the chair before sitting. Besides the area being not-so-nice, the chair did look comfortable, all things considered. "I assume you're busy?"

"Yeah... lot of work, lot of work. Many irons in fire." Alexei sat down opposite of her.

"That's good to hear. Especially since the whole... vanished... thing."

"Of course. Once we knew you were safe, we knew we had to go back to our lives. Become whole again, as they say."

"Speaking of 'we,' where's mom?"

"Mom?" Alexei puffed and leaned back on to his couch. "You know what mom is doing. Being 'normal.' Completely boring."

"What kind of job did she get?"

"Oh, you know, boring jobs. The animal resource person, or something."

"An HR manager?"

"Yes! That one. Look where she is, busy! She has that international work talking thing somewhere in Europe." Alexei shook his head, "She asked me if I would come. That is too boring for me. I have my own job here; why go there?"

"And your job is?"

"So much better. So much fun! Did you not see in back porch? I drive limousines. I get to go on these parties. People are paying me well. It's just great."

Yelena offered a glad chuckle. "You feel fulfilled?"

"Oh yeah..." Alexei chuckled himself and smiled widely. "So full. So filled. But, uh... why do you ask this?"

"Hm?" She scratched her mouth and leaned back in her own chair. It was as if she did not hear what he had asked.

"What brings you here?"

"I have... uh... work nearby. It's just a train ride over. I thought of visiting."

"Ah! That's nice."

"Also, I wanted to see if you are doing good. Glad to know you are."

"No need to worry about me, Yelena. I'm a free man. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." Alexei assured. All that did was make Yelena even more exasperated. "You are happy, yes?"

Yelena continued to look at him. It was obvious that she was not mad at him. Why would she be? There was an even bigger chance that he would he pissed off with her. This is the first time she has visited him willingly in so many months. But here he was, worried for her well-being. Maybe Yelena had underestimated how much she had missed the simple life.

She did not speak, so Alexei repeated. "It's yes or no. Are you happy?"

The words could not even get out of her mouth. Yelena shook her head instead, which made Alexei slump his shoulders in response. These touchy moments were not Alexei's forte. In fact, he considered himself out of touch. Sometimes he would be too proud of the fact. Still, this was his daughter who was admitting of her situation.

All Alexei could do was signal for her to sit beside him. She was too weak at that moment. The flight from Kuala Lumpur sinked her of all feeling. This interaction sent her back to when she was only six years old. Logically, it would only make sense to sit beside her father and let it sink in.

She stood up and walked over to Alexei. He offered her a generous portion of the couch and allowed her to have the folds of it envelop her. Just as a father would, he offered his arm to wrap around her and she allowed it. There, Yelena kept herself leaning onto her father as any daughter would at that moment.

She was vulnerable. She was weak. She was not acting as a Black Widow, but as a small girl from Ohio.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He could feel her nod as she kept on leaning on him, not looking in any other direction. Yelena closed her eyes, not wanting the same thing to happen from Malaysia.

"Is it about work?"

Yelena shook her head.

"Is it about your mother and I?"

She shook again.

Alexei sighed, "is it your sister?"

Yelena nodded.

She grasped onto her father even more. There are days where Alexei wished he forgot it had ever happened. That moment when his other daughter approached him and said that there was a possibility that Yelena would never come back. However, she was determined to bring her back. She even told him that she would bring everyone back.

The hardest day in his life was when he was told that she did manage to save the entire universe—only that the one telling her was not his daughter. He had almost lashed out. He had almost acted as he would have done back in his old days. It would only be Yelena who would calm him down. That was also the last day they were complete as a family.

To this day, he was shamed to admit that he had not moved on yet. It made him feel better that Yelena shared the same sentiment. They missed her.

"I understand, pumpkin. I am not over it too."

She nodded again.

"I don't think it is wrong to act this way. I was with her the first year of your disappearance. She acted same way."

Softly, Yelena whispered. "Was it harder then?"

He pondered that question. Many things had happened. Although his other daughter was busy doing the "Avengers" stuff, she looked to him for company. They even got to bond as a family along with Melina. That made it even more heartbreaking that Yelena was not there.

"It was hard." Alexei contemplated, "but it wasn't that hard. We knew you would be back. I've... I've gotten to the point that I accepted what happened to your sister."

"Mhm..."

"But, there is no shame in crying. Showing weakness only means you've been too strong for too long, yes?"

"Yeah..."

He glanced at the ceiling. All these things he was saying, he realized he was a hypocrite himself and would be lying if he was in the same place as her just years ago.

"You can cry, Yelena."

It was not loud; more so, it was whimpering. This built up frustration and sorrow was released into a few tears into the robe of Alexei. He could not see her, but he knew she was letting everything out. To her, this was what she needed after so many months on missions. Bloodshed and murder can get too familiar with some people, but this type of loss cannot be matched.

He was going to keep letting her do what she needed to do, but they were promptly interrupted by a knock on the door. Yelena sat up, turned away, and wiped her face without looking at Alexei.

"DoorDash!"

"The porch! I click leave on porch!" Alexei shouted, to which was followed by a few moments of silence. He looked to his daughter, inhaling and exhaling in long successions. "Are you still okay, Yelena?"

"Yeah." She sniffed, composing herself to finally look at him. "I'm okay."

Alexei carefully moved. At that moment, it felt like any sudden movement could upset Yelena and cause her to move away. He knew that about her. She wanted everything to be fine. Work and her way of life was already out of extraordinary, but if her life had strayed away from the slightest bit of normalcy, she would not know what to do. What he was scared of was what she can do.

"I will..." He grunted, standing up to prepare himself to get his freshly-prepared Arby's from his porch, "get my dinner. Would you like some?"

"I miss her." She blurted.

Alexei did not seem surprised at her comment, more that she had been able to put it in words, "We all do, Yelena, we all do."

She nodded again. That was all she needed.

"I'm still offering the food though."

"Uh..."

He waved, moving the door. "We can decide later. Food will get cold."

"Alexei!" Yelena stood up, which only garnered a curious look for him. "Can I stay here for the night?"

"Haha!" Alexei smiled like a five-month old baby being given a banana. "Of course, pumpkin. You can stay."

{Georgia, U.S.A.}

In a small suburban neighborhood that was busy with school buses driving around the block and the occasional neighbor mowing their lawn. Nothing much happens here. People led normal lives as they were never too affected by the ever-changing world dominated by super-humans. As far as they were concerned, they were only the few left that were left unharmed by many of the unfortunate events of the past few years.

It would not be the place, but the person who had suffered from the disastrous effects of super-humanism activity. John Walker had been a bright star of the state of Georgia. The fanfare that had surrounded him was similar to that of a five-star recruit in a sport. In actuality, he had been that prime pick to highlight the peak of human potential. He was given that chance. He could be Captain America.

That was what happened. He had became Captain America. The glory, honor, and power all came with it. Then he failed. He had been a serviceable Captain America, but the same sentiment bit at him over and over again—he could never compare to Steve Rogers.

He will never be Steve Rogers.

Steve Rogers.

Steve.

"John?" Olivia had managed to snap John out of his trance before too long. Still, he was staring at her despite finally acknowledging her presence. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great." John laughed and lightly slapped his wife on the back. "Why, what's happening?"

"You're slipping—again." It was concerning. It had been for months. It seemed like she was the only one able to bring him back down to Earth. "Seriously, I can't keep on 'Major Tom-ing' you."

"Don't you think that's sweet? I love when you sing Bowie."

"You know I've always been more of a 'Moonage Daydreamin' type of girl." She indulged in his positivity. Still, she could see that glimmer of emptiness inside of him. He had not let it go. "Are you going to stop with the staring?"

"I'm... it happens, you know." John nodded, almost to himself. "There's just times that I blank out. You know it."

"I do know it. I just want you to say it out loud. At least you know that it's happening. It makes me..." Olivia warmed his cheek with her hand, "a little less worried, in a way."

"God, you sound like my therapist."

"I hope your therapist doesn't do this." In a natural motion, she placed a kiss on her husband's lips—something that calmed down his nerves in an instant. "Hmm... better?"

"No to the first, yes to the second." He chuckled while tapping his wife on the shoulder. In the distance, their old 2018 Ford Ranger was nicely sitting in front of their lawn waiting to be driven. "By the way, how urgent is your work that you have to check in on a Sunday?"

"That urgent." She kept it vague, but John knew what type of urgent it exactly was. Those days where your career would be in for a major change if everything went right.

Unfortunately, his break did not.

"I should be asking you a question." The thought kept her from already starting up the car, "Are you okay with watching Julia? ...Okay, now I suddenly feel bad leaving her with you."

"Are you kidding? She needs some quality
daddy time. It will be fine 'Liv." He was practically pushing her towards the car, something that she could not fight both physically and mentally. "If it's urgent, then I won't budge."

"I'm just worried, 'yknow?"

"You're always worried."

"It's always you."

"You have me read like a book."

She tapped her head as she walked down, "Bookworm, remember?"

Olivia kept on walking to the car as John silently watched from their porch. It was the life he was accustomed to. For the past few years, this was the life he led. No more were the glory and praise that he had received long ago. He was just another regular guy. People might find him disappointing, but he was fine with the way of life he had.

Maybe.

He could attest that the main reason he has been able to survive was because of his wife. Always there. His number one supporter. It made the pain of losing everything a little less.

"Remember to check in with her always, okay?" Olivia called from the car. He nodded, simply returning a soft smile to her. "Does that mean pizza later?"

"Pizza Hut."

"I'll be back in a bit."

"Stay safe!"

"You too, soldier." Olivia chuckled and got into their car.

For a few moments, John watched his wife pull out of their driveway, steer out of the street, and get out of his view. He was just silent. He was just watching. It was one of those moments again. That helplessness of just staring off into the distance. Memories of his time when he served as both a soldier and Captain America came to mind. All those nightmares. He could only stare back at it.

It was only when he heard crying that John had snapped out of it. Rushing into the house, he quickly made his way to the top floor of his two-floor house that was sufficient for a family three in a suburban neighborhood. Passing by his bedroom, he saw the clock on his wall realizing that he had been standing outside for ten minutes after Olivia had left.

That long again, he thought.

It did not matter. When he came to the room, he saw his daughter scratching at the top of her crib begging for a drink. Julia was crying her heart out, attempting to flip herself off the crib just so she could crawl to the bottle that was unattended to on the floor.

"Hey, Jules. You're 'gonna fall off!"

"Da-da, sam midk!"

"I will, if you stop 'tryna hurt yourself." John gently grabbed his daughter by the hinges of her arms and placed her back on the center of the crib. "You want some milk?"

"Yah!"

"And what's the magic word?"

"Pwease!"

"One milk 'comin your way. Getting bigger everyday, little missy." He patted Julia on her head, garnering a bright smile from his daughter.

"Hehe!" She got back on her feet again and bounced up and down on the crib's mattress.

"You're getting too big, too soon for daddy, hm? I remember how little you were when..." There was a noise. It had came from the other room. It was a discussion of words that nagged at John's interest. Through the slightly ajar door, he saw the TV playing a news outlet covering a Senate Hearing. It was only when Julia kept calling him that he broke out of trance. "So-sorry, what?"

"Wah..!"

"Yea-yeah. I'll get to it."

It was the regular routine for making milk. Anyone knew that. Grab the sterilized bottle. Open the lid and keep it on a clean surface. Listen to the reporter talking about a gathering of Senators for that particular Sunday afternoon. Grab the milk powder off the container. Think about the implications of the Senate Hearing. Place water into the bottle. Hear the details about the meeting. It is about super-humans.

He could not focus.

Subconsciously, John grabbed the remote nearby and increased the volume to the TV in the other room. He still made the milk, but was beginning to ignore the growing cries of his child. Julia was getting unruly. She was not getting her deserved treat. Instead, John paid attention to the discussion going on.

"Much talk has been going around this Senate Hearing. Despite the Sokovia Accords being voided a few years ago, there is still an ongoing effort by nations worldwide in ensuring that super-human individuals are kept in check." The news caster approached the topic, turning to his co-host. "We've seen it with Attorney Walters and Sam Wilson—unmonitored actions of these vigilantes cause property damage and human fatalities. What do you say, Lee?"

"You see, Jenkins, if you let this keep on happening, we're going to have another New York. Worse, we're going to have another Sokovia. You can't let these individuals have the advantage when it comes to supervision. People will continue to rely on these people when in reality, they're most likely not. They will certainly never be there. That's just a fact!"

"But, you can also attest that it fails even when there is supervision. The New York Times just published an article about the former Captain America—John Walker—and his failure to live up to the mantle even under heavy supervision."

"Well, we all know that's on him, right?"

No, it was not on him.

It was on the Flag Smashers.

It was on Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes.

It was never on him.

John felt it upon shaking the bottle to mix the milk. It infuriated him. Years after everything that happened, they are still talking about it. Everything he did in that suit—it was justified. They just never understood.

They were wrong. It was just bait.

To prove it, John sat down on the rocking chair beside the crib and opened his phone. He scanned the New York Times for his piece. It did not take too long until he finally found the title of the article aimed at him: "Fall of a Hero—The John Walker Story."

Decorated as a soldier. Superstar coming out of college. Served several tours abroad. Prime candidate for the Medal of Honor. Elected as the new Captain America. Failure to abide by the orders of the U.S. Government. Publicly murdering an individual that was surrendering. Endangered dozens of lives in a brawl with the Flag Smashers.

Hero turned to nobody.

He had not noticed it, but John was already cracking into his phone screen. The utter rage of his strength seeped quietly and turned into an ick. Any more, the phone would be crushed into his hands and pierce through both sides of his hand.

Only a message notification on his phone got him to stop. Through the cracked screen, he read it.

Military facility at Great Basin. Burn all evidence at basement level. Kill anyone in your way. Be there at 20:15 sharp. Thanks xoxo.

There it was. His job. His purpose.

In return, John acknowledged the message by reacting to it with a thumbs up button before going to his other contacts and landing on his wife. He sent the usual text, "No Pizza Hut tonight."

After all the white noise faded away, the sound of crying replaced it.

Only then did Julia finally get her milk.

{Ohio, U.S.A.}

It was an awkward Sunday morning for Yelena. She never had the feeling of sinking back into bed after sleeping for so long, but this time she did. It was not an alarm or a phone that had waken her. Rather, it was the sun hitting her face that woke her up from slumber.

Despite all her thoughts on the state of the house, Alexei's "guest room" was particularly clean yet a small part that she admired. It was cramped with stuff on each side of the room with the bed really serving as the only furniture in there. However, she could tell that this was just her mother's room by seeing all the leftover outfits in the closets.

In fact, after rummaging through various shelves in Melina's room, she had stumbled across some of her old Widow's Bites. It was a weapon that was specially reserved for Black Widows, which made her feel even better when she gained the permission of Alexei the night before to use them. Now, she had never taken it off since receiving them.

Waking up groggy, she dragged herself out of the room and into the piling mess that was Alexei's living space. The boxes and contents of Arby's were still laid out on the kitchen table which had begun to smell by the time Yelena passed by. There were several dozen uncleaned dishes which she assumed would either be broken or forgotten—the result would still be the same.

It was not like she was expecting good breakfast, but she did not expect a letter to be placed on the table. From how scribbled it is, she knew that it was exactly Alexei who had written it.

Sorry I could not cook any breakfast. I don't expect visitors. If I'm not there, I went to work! P.S. here my number: +1(430)***-****

"Huh," Yelena shrugged her shoulders while looking at the letter.

With nothing else to do, she explored the house. There was not many things new she saw as she had practically seen everything from the night before. Alexei's house was never really special as he and Melina bought it from a previous owner. With Melina gone for long periods of time, Alexei treats this like a storage house all to himself.

Yelena found herself sinking, once again, to the chair she once occupied from the night before. It felt emptier without Alexei there. He was the person that made the house living. Everything felt like it was moving and interacting with her. Now, it was just an empty shell just like Yelena. Depressing.

Scanning the tables beside her, one particular photo came to her attention. It was their old photo as a family in Ohio back in the 1990's. The color had faded, but the quality was still superb for a picture that old. In her mind, she suspected it to be Melina's doing.

In the picture, everyone involved felt alive. Alexei had looked to be a proud dad with a big, bright smile as he towered over his two daughters. Melina, ever-so-the-elegant and charming mother, kept her pose very straight while looking the most beautiful. There was Yelena, who was so young that she would beg to return to that stage in her life where she would be finishing coloring books with ease and listening to Pearl Jam. And then, there was her sister.

Her favorite, favorite sister.

Her sister.

Sister.

Nat-

Before she could become hypnotized with the picture, her cell phone vibrated to startle her. Grabbing it out of her pocket, she slumped even further. It was one of those messages.

Military facility at Great Basin. Burn all evidence at basement level. Kill anyone in your way. Be there at 20:00 sharp. Thanks xoxo.

She sighed. It was work. It was killing again. It was more red on the ledger.

"So much for a train ride away from work."

Who cares.

Work was work.