227. Ghosts of a Borrowed Home. (Patreon)

Yelena Belova POV:

The house looked… normal which was the strangest part.

A wooden cottage, slightly worn at the edges with a greenhouse with fogged glass panes, a pigsty with a few pigs lazily moving about in the mud. Smoke curled gently out of the chimney, rising into the cold Russian air like nothing in the world was wrong.

“Looks so normal.” I muttered under my breath, arms folded as I studied it.

“Deceptively so.” Natasha replied beside me, her tone measured.

“There are three weapon vaults inside,” Peter added casually as he walked past us, “and at least twenty-seven scattered weapons hidden in structural blind spots. Kitchen, bedroom, basement, attic. Take your pick.”

I blinked.

“You counted?”

“I always count.”

That… didn’t surprise me.

What did surprise me was what he was wearing.

“Wait...” I pointed at him, squinting. “Where the hell did you get a tux?”

He didn’t even look at me. “Picotech.”

Of course the answer was Picotech because why not casually materialize a tuxedo in the middle of a war. And what's Picotech?

He walked forward like he owned the place, like he owned the world which might be true and rang the doorbell.

I leaned slightly toward Clint and asked, “What’s Picotech?”

“Don’t know,” he replied, not even looking up, “don’t care.”

Fair enough.

The door opened and Gwen's face peeked out.

No mask but still armored and dangerous. Still her.

She leaned against the doorframe with a smirk. "Welcome to spy central,” she teased. “How may I be of service to my lovely husband today?”

Peter didn’t answer instead he just kissed her and she kissed him back.

Like this was just… a normal evening.

“Service received.” Peter said calmly and then he picked her up bridal style then walked inside and I kept staring.

“I need a boyfriend.” I muttered. Natasha snorted softly and patted my shoulder. “Get in line.”

Inside, it felt even stranger. Thor, Tony and Rhodes were already there.

On the single couch sat Melina while Mjolnir resting squarely on her lap, pinning her down.

A god’s paperweight.

“Ah,” she said lightly, attempting a smile. “I feel underdressed. The entire Avengers roster in my humble home… someone go get the good vodka. This calls for celebration.”

Thor’s eyes flashed.

“Silence, evil mortal witch,” he thundered. “You will not slither your way out of this like the loach you are.”

“Hey!!!” Alexei suddenly roared, puffing his chest as he marched forward. “You do not speak to my woman like...”

CRACK.

Thor headbutted him and Alexei dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“That was satisfying,” I muttered.

Thor looked down at him, unimpressed.

“This… is the Red Guardian?” he asked, turning to Tony. “The so-called defender of the Soviet Union?”

“More like expired propaganda.” I said flatly.

Thor turned toward me and suddenly I was being hugged by a god of thunder.

“Worry not, Yelena, Sister of Natasha!” he boomed, squeezing the life out of me. “You are among friends! No harm shall befall you while Thor Odinson stands...”

“My ribs...!” I wheezed. “You’re...breaking...my ribs...!”

“Oh!”

He let go immediately. “My apologies.”

I coughed, straightening up. “…No problem.”

He nodded solemnly. “Once we slay Dreykov, all shall be well.”

I nodded.

“Let’s address the elephant in the room.” I said, turning to Melina. “Where is the Red Room?”

Melina sighed.

“It isn’t a place,” she said. “It’s a facility and a mobile one. Like a... helicarrier… only uglier. Built for a coward like Dreykov.”

Figures.

“Can you contact him?” Peter asked from behind me.

She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

I exhaled. “Good.”

Then I glanced at Natasha and we didn’t need to speak because we both knew.

“Give us a moment,” I said. “Just… me, Nat and these two.”

Peter studied me for a second then nodded and left without argument.

The others filed out one by one leaving us alone with ghosts.

The silence settled like dust. It felt heavy and unavoidable.

I walked toward the bookshelf, ran my fingers along the spines and stopped.

I pulled out an album.

“Remember this?” I asked softly.

Natasha stepped beside me.

We opened it and inside were photos from a life that didn't exist long enough to be real. It was a life that never existed and yet… it did.

She pointed at one. It was a photo from our first Christmas in the US.

“I remember this,” she said quietly while running her fingers over the old picture of our first Christmas. “I knew the boxes were empty. Every single one but I still wanted to open them.”

Her fingers brushed the picture. “I still felt happy.”

My throat tightened. “…Me too.”

I swallowed. “We both knew it was fake but we tried to make it ours anyway.”

I turned page after page showing pictures of fake family dinners, laughter and birthdays.

“Those three years…” My voice broke. “…were the best years of my life.”

“I’m sorry.” Suddenly apologised Melina. “I truly am.”

I clenched the album tighter.

“The cage is all I’ve ever known,” she continued. “But that doesn’t excuse what I did.”

Now I turned and looked at her. Really looked.

I didn’t see a handler, a scientist or a monster.

I saw a broken woman.

“I can’t undo it,” she said. “But I can help you end it.”

I took a breath. “Then help us,” I said. “Help us take down Dreykov.”

I stepped closer. “Help us save Peter’s mother and his little sister.”

I smirked. “The one he totally doesn’t care about.”

Melina huffed. “Of course he cares.”

Then she groaned, shifting slightly.

“And for the love of God someone remove this hammer.”

The moment broke because Alexei walked in wearing his Red Guardian suit and is suffed into it like a sausage casing.

“Ah!” he declared proudly. “Still fits like a glove!”

Melina didn’t even look at him. “I haven’t washed it in thirteen years.”

I closed my eyes. "I’m going to kill him.”

Natasha sighed. “Get in line.”

Peter Parker POV:

Outside, the air was cold which was a stark contrast to the mess inside.

“Tony,” I said without looking at him, “status on transmitters.”

He leaned against the fence, chewing on a leaf like this was a casual Sunday.

“All active and passive transmitters disabled,” he replied. “Signal dampening field active. No outgoing communication unless you allow it.”

“Redundancies?”

“Three layers.”

“Hidden backups?”

“Scanned and neutralized.”

I nodded.

“Also,” Tony added, gesturing at the pig I was controlling through my tablet, “this is the most disturbing RC car I’ve ever seen.”

I didn’t look up. “It’s efficient.”

“It’s a pig, Peter.”

“It’s a node.”

He sighed. “Of course it is.”

I flicked my finger across the screen and the

Always control.

Because lack of control meant variables.and variables got people killed.

“Banner,” I said into the comm.

His voice came through immediately. “Go ahead, Peter.”

“Status.”

“North America is done,” he replied. “One hundred percent of identified Widows secured. Frank and Hunter are stabilizing Saudi Arabia. Resistance is minimal. Global Mist deployment was… effective.”

Good. Very good.

“No anomalies?”

“None so far.”

“Keep scanning.”

“Always do.”

I looked back at the house, at the people inside.

At the past trying to claw its way into the present and I drew a line.

“Hey guys, come in!!!” Yelena’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“The time for battle is nigh,” I murmured.

Tony smirked. “Dramatic.”

“Accurate.”

I walked toward the house and it was time to end this.