She stood barely believing what she’d learned. He hadn’t killed her sister. More than that, they’d been close, she could see in his eyes just how much Natasha’s death was hurting him even now. She couldn’t hurt him, make him pay, because he was already paying and more than that, she realised now that as they’d fought, he’d avoided every chance he had to hurt her seriously. He knew their whistle; Natasha must have told him that, must have told him about her.

She turned away, feeling the last of her rage at him fade away, leaving her alone again. With nothing. Without that rage, she truly had nothing, no sister, no family and now no purpose.

“Yelena,” his voice was quiet, loud enough for her to hear, but the sound wouldn’t carry, this moment was just between them. She wasn’t ready to face him again.

“Yelena, when you are ready, if you ever want, I’ll be there, just get in touch.” She sniffed back a tear and didn’t acknowledge his words. “If it helps, I can make the offer in Natasha’s memory, she wouldn’t want you to be alone, or I can make it because I’ve been in a similar place, I can understand more than most.”

“I have friends,” she said, keeping her tone sharp, hoping it hid how brittle she was feeling.

“You have a family, Natasha was family so when you’re ready, we’ll be there. You don’t have to be left behind again.”