Aunt Le
Synopsis: You're working part-time, especially after having your son. Your husband... He renovates houses. And I'm the cool single aunt. Somehow, we build our life.
Author's Notes: My first time writing here, so please be patient with me. Also, inglish is not my native language. be patient with me x2
Fluff
Afghanistan was a mess â that was one of the only thoughts around Yelenaâs mind since the US government sent her squad to support the armed forces there. Shelters were built. People were taken off the street. Bombs were detonated, too. Yelena swears she can still hear the noise of explosions in her ears, even though the jetâs noise was the only real sound she heard in the last thirteen hours of the trip. And she tried to sleep. Tried to rest. But as a soldier who is constantly on the field, she has lost the ability to nap peacefully in public spaces (a disturbing ability that saved her life and dozens of others more times than Yelena can really count).
Still, at times like this, she wished she had this talent.
The last six months on a mission, rarely alone, rarely resting, constantly rescuing people from high-rise buildings and battling extremists has taken a toll on her nervous system. Thirteen hours of travel and a time-zone break didnât do much to help either. But none of that matters. Not the incessant pain in her musicians, the aching twinges in her back that still canât handle the jetâs seats, the heavy dark circles under her eyes that Yelena swears have already become a natural tattoo set. No. When she parks her car and the first thing she sees beyond the manicured yard, with neatly trimmed green grass and a red tricycle near the porch steps, itâs like the last few months hadnât existed. Her heart swells up like a wet cotton ball and she opens the car door. A smile coming when the front door is flung open and a human beingâs project passes through it faster than the speed of light.
âAunt Le!â Hux squeals happily, shooting in her way like the small energy missile he is. Yelena leans over to catch the boy in mid-jump, ignoring the thud her suitcase makes when it hits the ground. She squeezes the boy a little tighter and is squeezed back in a death hug. His scent of baby shampoo and blackberry syrup has never changed.
âHey buddyâ She hums under her breath âHowâs my champion doing?â
âGood.â
âGood, huh?â
âYes.â Her smile grows even softer when she notices Natasha on the threshold, sneering affectionately as she does whenever Huxley is near his aunt. You see, since the boy learned to walk, he doesnât let anyone pick him up. Except for Yelena.
âPut me down!â
For a short time, of course.
Yelena laughs, putting the child back on the sidewalk.
âNice hat.â
âYou think? I asked Mom for a soldierâs helmet like yours, but she thinks Iâm too young for that.â He shares, tidying up the aluminum colander heâs currently wearing as a military helmet to hide his fatherâs inherited black hair.
Yelena peers at Natasha under her lashes before leaning in to whisper. âIâll let you use mine if you promise you wonât tell mom.â
Huxley smiles excitedly. A toothless smile, crooked teeth and wrinkled nose, while half his view is blocked by the barrier of the colander . Yelena barely has time to melt before Natasha finally approaches.
âStop corrupting my son.â Her hand lands on Yelenaâs shoulder with a firm grip and for a second, loneliness and emptiness are filled with shared brotherhood affection. "ĐĐŸŃ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ°, itâs good to see you.â
Theyâve never been very fond of prolonged physical touch, so their affection is portrayed with looks. Right now, Yelena is sure hers is mushy as hell when she nods positively, holding the older oneâs elbow to acknowledge the touch. âCome on. Lets go in. You need to eat and get some rest. Looks like you came out of a war.â
âHa!â She says, catching the irony of that choice of words in the air. Natasha rolls her eyes. âWhereâs Bruce?â
âMr. Gardner needed help fixing the roof.â
âAre the kids still causing problems?â
âItâs Halloween, Yelena.â Natasha shakes her head heavily âThe kids have their trick moment and the neighbors deal with the damage for the rest of the year. Just the usual.â
âRude. Hey, here, let the aunt-â
âNo!â Huxley protests âI take.â
His version of help consists of dragging her bag across the floor, since he doesn't have the strength to lift and carry it in his skinny arms.
"Want help bug?"
"No Mommy! I'm fine!" Shouts the boy back.
Yelena doesn't have time to think that she'll need another suitcase until the end of the trip when Natasha comments something in Russian about how this vacancy for a physical education teacher at the school where she works is open and how nice it would be if Yelena could reconsider her plan of career. Stay in Ohio longer. Yelena rolls her eyes, too in love with her profession to give it up to live a simple life in the suburbs, with a husband, kids and furry pets that would probably make her raise her kids on antihistamines.
She doesn't even like people that much.
"But I could think about the dog" she confides as she crosses the Hall "I want a dog."
Behind them, Huxley pulls her bag up the stairs.
+++
She wakes up the next morning with a tiny body scaling her waist and her reflexes, too fast for her slow mind, kick into action before she can think about it. Her body tenses in preparation for a fight, but instead, all she sees is Huxley's toothless grin and her extra-large helmet unbuckled along the kid's jaw.
âLook, Aunt Le! It fit!"
