The morning after Christmas, Kate lingered in Clint's family home, still replaying the previous days in her head. The guilt over her mother's arrest weighed heavily, even though she knew she'd taken down one of the most powerful enemies she had ever faced — Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin.
From the doorway, Clint appeared, holding two mugs of hot chocolate. He handed one to her with a small smile.
"Thinking about your mom, huh?" he asked gently.
Kate only nodded, staring into the swirl of cocoa. She had already lost her father, and now her mother was gone too. Clint had a family to return to — she couldn't lean on him forever.
"Sorry if I'm being presumptuous," she finally said, her voice low, "but... how does it feel to lose someone you love? Even when you gave everything for them?"
Clint exhaled slowly. "You're asking about Natasha." He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small, arrow-shaped necklace.
"Nat gave me this. I thought it was ridiculous at the time. She shoved it in my hand and said, 'Wear it, you idiot.' I didn't, of course. Not until... Vormir. After everything, I found it again among her things. Since then, I wear it for her."
Kate smiled faintly. "Guess she knew you better than you knew yourself."
"Yeah," Clint said softly. "She always did."
Later, Kate returned to her New York apartment, greeted by Lucky's wagging tail. As she knelt to hug him, she spotted a small wrapped box on her desk. Frowning, she opened it — inside was a necklace, not Clint's, but one crafted with a sleek arrow charm, distinctly different.
She dialed Clint immediately.
"Thanks for the gift, Clint. Didn't expect a present from an Avenger."
There was silence, then Clint's voice crackled through. "Gift? Kate, I didn't send you anything."
Her stomach tightened. She scanned the room, then spotted a small envelope on her bed with initials scrawled in the corner: Y. B.
Yelena Belova.
Hesitant, Kate opened the envelope. The note was blunt, the handwriting rushed but sharp:
Kate Bishop,
I know I was... not the best guest. Breaking into your place, eating your mac and cheese, pointing an arrow at you — all work. But maybe we start fresh? Consider this necklace my apology. Don't say I'm sentimental, or I will break your nose.
Merry Christmas.
—Yelena.
Kate couldn't help but laugh softly. "Yeah... still a crime. But I'll forgive you."
"Merry Christmas, Yelena." She slipped the necklace around her neck, its weight strangely comforting.
Across the street, Yelena stood on a rooftop, watching Kate play with Lucky. Her lips curved into a rare smile before her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen. Alexei.
"Hello, Dad," she answered. Whatever he said made her eyes darken. Without another word, she vanished into the night.
Kate, sensing something, glanced at the window. Someone had been watching. She turned on the television for distraction — but the news reported the Tracksuit Mafia reemerging, alongside a mysterious masked figure. Kate sighed, rubbing Lucky's ear.
"Guess the holidays don't last long, huh, Lucky?"
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.
The Marvel universe served as the inspiration for this work of fan fiction. Marvel and its respective creators are the owners of all characters, sets, and aspects. I don't claim any ownership, and I didn't write this narrative with any intention of making money—it was just for fun. Any resemblance to actual individuals or events is wholly coincidental, and any original characters or interpretations are mine.