THE THREE had left the air vent and were now walking aimlessly. Lana had healed Yelena to the best of her ability but there was still a cut, so Lana had wrapped it back in the shirt to stop it from getting infected.

Natasha saw a gas station and they made a detour. As they entered the shop Natasha asked, "If the Red Room's still active, where is it?"

"I have no idea," Yelena replied as she and Lana looked at the snacks, "He moves locations constantly. And every Widow is sedated on entry and exit for maximum security."

"Great," Lana muttered as she opened a bag of Doritos.

"I'm just finding it hard to believe that he could stay off my radar," Natasha said.

Yelena looked at her, "Well it's not smart to attack an Avenger if you want to stay hidden. I mean the clue is in the name. Dreykov kills you, one of the big ones come to avenge you."

"Wait, what are the big ones?" Lana asked.

"Well, I doubt the god from space has to take ibuprofen after a fight. Where did you think I was all this time?"

Lana shrugged, "You had sent me a postcard from Brazil, after New York saying 'I hope you aren't dead. That would suck cause you're my favourite.' So I assumed you were there." She washed her hands looking at Yelena.

Natasha looked slightly guilty, "I thought that you got out and were living a normal life," she went towards the small sink and started to wash her hands of Yelena's blood.

"And you just never made contact again?" Yelena questioned, "At least Lana sent me a postcard back."

"Honestly I thought you didn't want to see me," Natasha replied.

Yelena scoffed out a laugh, "Bullshit. You just didn't want another baby sister to tag along whilst you saved the world with the cool kids."

"You weren't really my sister," Natasha said.

Lana smacked her sister's arm, "We're half-siblings, that's still siblings," she whispered. Natasha rolled her eyes as she brushed past her. Lana looked at her younger sister, "She doesn't mean that. She's just bitter because I'm your favourite."

Yelena blinked away her hurt, "And the Avengers aren't really your family." She went to the counter and paid for the balm she had picked up, "Why do you always do that thing?"

"Do what?"

"That thing you do when you're fighting?" Natasha looked at her confused, "The... Like, the..." Yelena got on the ground and did a pose, "This thing that you do when you whip your hair when you're fighting, with the arm and the hair. And you do like a fighting pose."

Lana laughed, "You do, do that."

"It's a fighting pose. You're a total poser," Yelena finished.

"I'm not a poser," Natasha denied.

Lana patted her shoulder, "You are."

"Oh, come on. I mean, they're great poses, but it does look like you think everyone's looking at you, like, all the time," Yelena said getting up.

"All that time that I spent posing, I was trying to do something actually good to make up for all the pain and suffering that we caused," Natasha replied, "Trying to be more than just a trained killer."

Lana looked to the ground whilst Yelena was unbothered, "Well then you were fooling yourself because pain and suffering are every day and we're still trained killers. Except I'm not the one that's on the cover of a magazine. I'm not the killer that little girls call their hero."

She exited the shop and Lana looked at Natasha, "She means you because I've never been on the cover of a magazine."

"Thanks, Lana."

"No problem."