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Bob, for the most part, has gained better control over his powers. The Sentry and the Void are kept under as much a lock and key as Bob can manage for them, but he can’t always control when one of the two like to show up.
Yelena understands all parts of him. Sentry is the side of Bob that holds its head higher than necessary. He’s much easier to influence this way, and much more insecure, believe it or not. Sentry might think himself a God, but the truth is that he simply wants to be accepted.
Void, on the other hand, is different. He’s the worst parts of Bob all wrapped up into one. It takes delicate hands to deal with him, and though Yelena has never quite been known to be delicate or gentle, Bob—no matter the version of him—always seems to bring that out in her.
The Watchtower is quiet. Most of the team is out—Bucky and Walker are on a mission together, Ava is visiting with the little Ant guy, and she knows for a fact that Alexei is passed out in his room several levels down. Yelena’s by herself on one of the training levels, pulling on her thick boots and tying them. She’s reaching for her gloves when a shudder goes through her, and there’s a bit of an unsteady feeling that’s creeping down her spine.
Carefully, Yelena sits up and cranes her neck towards the doors, squinting. For a moment, it appears that nothing is there, until her eyes adjust and she sees it. Him. Standing in the doorway is Bob—though, not Bob. It’s the Void.
Darker than the colour black. Devoid of any kind of light, except the pinpoint irises of his pupils. He stares at her, his head tilted, and Yelena finally relaxed her shoulder.
“Bob,” Yelena murmurs, knowing well enough that any side of him will respond to her calling him that. “What is wrong? Why are you just standing there?”
He floats towards her. Slowly, deliberately. He can walk, just the same as Bob and Sentry, but Yelena’s noticed that Void likes to glide. She’s just glad that Alexei hasn’t found out—she doesn’t want to deal with trying to keep Void from killing her father just yet. Even if he may deserve it for trying to literally ride Bob while he flies. Soon enough, Void stops in front of her, and Yelena peers up at him.
Quietly, Yelena presses, “Void?”
Despite his features being diluted, inky blackness that doesn’t cast a single shadow, Yelena can see Void’s eyes flash with recognition and… and maybe it’s just Yelena seeing things, but she swears there’s a happiness in his gaze. She stands up carefully and slowly holds her hands out, palms facing up.
It’s like a walking black hole. No warmth. No noise. No light. An uncanny existence, standing right before Yelena, yet she feels no fear. Not like before. Void is simply fragile. He is the most desperate part of Bob that craves something more, something deeper.
His palms are cold against Yelena’s own, the weight of them heavier than Yelena had expected them to be. She offers him a quirked half-smile, head tilting slightly to the side.
“Talk to me,” she murmurs, slowly curling her fingers against Void’s. “I’m right here.”
He sighs—nearly so silent that she almost misses it. It’s a barely there sound, like the whisper of a breeze flowing through the area. Yelena’s movements are slow as she pulls one hand back, reaching up to cup the Void’s cheek. It’s just as biting cold as his hands. He leans into Yelena’s touch, eyelids fluttering, those pinpoint pupils fading in and out for a few seconds.
“I missed you.” His voice is deep, low and rumbling. It’s so different from Bob’s usual tone—shy and reserved, higher in tone and pitch. Sentry and Void both speak with low baritones, but Void’s is the deepest. It should strike fear into anyone who hears it. Yelena finds her chest tightening with affection instead.
“You missed me?” Yelena teases, a quiet chuckle leaving her. “Bob, I am always here.”
Slowly, the Void shakes his head. He pulls Yelena’s other hand up to mirror her other on his cheek as his other hand covers the one already in place. Like this, Yelena is cradling his face, and Void is leaning into the warmth of her palms.
“I missed you.” He repeats, eyes falling shut.
Yelena clicks her tongue, teasing and quiet, as another chuckle leaves her. “You are like a child,” she mumbles, pulling Void’s head down until their foreheads meet. “A spoiled, spoiled child.”
A breathy laugh leaves him, brushing over Yelena’s cheeks. He turns his head, dark fingers curling around her wrists and holding them tight. “You’re the one who spoils me.”
Yelena smiles, stroking her thumbs across his cheekbones, and tugs him further down. His lips are colder than Bob’s usually are, but they’re just as nice. He sighs shakily into her mouth, and that’s when she notices he’s trembling.
“Can I stay?” he whispers, voice just as shaky, bordering on desperate. “Please.”
Yelena has been weak to Bob since they first met. She pushes her hands up a bit further, thumbs running near the corners of where his eyes must be, and she smiles against his lips as she kisses him again.
“Of course you can stay.”
She’s sure that Bob will come back when he wants—or when the Void has had enough time with her outside. For now, her training can wait. Spending time with Void for the day sounds much nicer.