Work Text:
Through Your Eyes, My Sunshine.
Normie is the coolest, most amazing dog in the world. And not just because he says so. No, his dad says so. His dad is amazing, the most incredible guy that exists. He's strong, fast, and unbelievably invincible. And Normie loves flying beside him through the vast skies. Playing fetch is fun, even when the ball ends up on the other side of the world and he has to cross oceans at top speed to get it back. But the truth is, what Normie loves most, what makes him endlessly happy, is being home with Dad. Curled up against his side or sleeping on his chest, feeling his affectionate hand rubbing his little head or back. It's his favorite part of the day after saving the world.
He also loves it when Dad takes him to the park. It's so much fun sniffing every tree he can with his little nose, chasing after annoying squirrels and other dogs at the park! Even if they're not as amazing as he is, Normie still has fun, being free and happy and enjoying his dad as much as he possibly can.
Normie loves him so much.
Though sometimes it's hard for Normie to understand him. It's easier for a dog: if you're happy, you wag your tail. Or you rear up on your hind legs, front paws pawing eagerly. If you're sad or anxious, on the other hand, you hide under the bed or cry until your dad comes looking for you and comforts you lovingly. "A brave boy like you, scared? Silly little guy," and then he invites him to lie down beside him and tucks him in just to make sure he's warm enough. And Normie feels safe. Because his dad adores him, and he's able to fight off those terrible thunderclaps that scare him so much.
His dad, on the other hand — who's usually all smiles and affection, who even shares his food sometimes — will sit alone for hours, sunk in his own thoughts, a sadness Normie can't quite explain clouding his eyes. Some days he looks tired, completely worn out. He drags his feet to his room and lies there staring at the ceiling light, or some spot on the wall. Normie wants to help, because he's a good boy, so he brings one of his treasures and offers it to him, trying to cheer him up. His dad gives him a sad little smile and pets his head like he's somehow thanking him for the thought. "For me?" he says, and Normie barks back. "Good boy," Dad answers, but his voice is so sad, so broken, that Normie doesn't understand what he did wrong.
It's strange — usually his squeaky carrot always cheers him up. Normie can chew and squeeze it for hours without getting bored of it. He tries something else — Mr. Banana doesn't work either. He tries Eddie the teddy bear, but nothing changes. Normie starts to think none of his toys can help. His dad's eyes stay sad, even as he smiles kindly. "We'll play another day, okay?" he says softly, and Normie barks, trying to climb up toward him. His dad picks him up carefully and sets him on his lap, and Normie licks the little drops falling from his eyes. They're warm and salty, falling steadily, without stopping. Normie doesn't understand — he couldn't possibly. He just tries to be a good boy so his dad will be happy. He nuzzles his damp little nose against his cheek, and his dad hugs him tight, his whole body shaking, the salty drops still falling.
Even so, Normie will keep loving him.
Sometimes the days are better. The sun comes out, the birds sing, and Normie wants to bark and run everywhere. (Come on, Dad, get up!) Normie is a happy dog, chubby and full of energy.
Dad looks so tired in the mornings. Sometimes he walks right past without even noticing Normie's there. He heads to the bathroom and Normie follows, because he refuses to start the morning without Dad's good-morning hello. "Normie, no. Wait outside." (But Dad, I want to be with you. I missed you so much.)
How much does a dog have to bark before someone understands him? So exhausting.
Time to save the world! What joy for a dog as amazing as him, and how fun it is to fly beside Dad. It's his favorite thing in the whole world. People cheer for them, the bad guys don't stand a chance. Normie the super dog has saved the day! It feels as good as a belly rub, because if there's one thing that makes Normie happier than his squeaky carrot and his dad's love, it's helping protect everyone.
Normie doesn't remember how he became so amazing and incredible. Sometimes, when he sleeps, he can't help shaking with fear until his dad is the one to comfort him. He remembers very little — the streets, how scared he was, the hunger he felt, the need for a friend. Then everything went dark all at once, and the last thing he remembers is feeling as tired as if he'd walked for days without stopping, and a pain that froze him completely. "Stupid dog, you got in my way!" Normie was so sleepy, and hungry, so, so hungry, but mostly sleepy. He just wanted to go home... wherever that was, he just wanted someone to love. Then, suddenly, he opened his eyes, and his dad's face was the first thing he saw — now that Normie remembers, that was the first time he saw that rain in his eyes. Wetting his dirty, matted fur. (Who are you, kind man? Why are you sad?) "Hey there, buddy. Don't be scared. You're safe now." Before Dad, no one had ever been gentle with Normie. And from that moment on, Normie never left his side again.
Somehow, though, from that day on, Normie became a dog who could do amazing things! Just like Dad. How strange.
Anyway. Isn't it a great day? Let's go play and be happy!
"Normie, be good and stay calm," his dad says, opening the cupboard and looking for Normie's favorite kibble. Normie wants him to hurry up, because he's starving, and also because after breakfast comes walk time. Normie wants to play and run and meet new friends. "Oh no, come on." (What's wrong, Dad? Where's Normie's kibble?) Dad walks out of the kitchen, dragging his feet like always, grabs Normie's leash, and clips it on. Yes! Walk time got moved up! Dad puts on his jacket, a cap, and something dark that covers his eyes. Normie barks, because he wants to tell his dad that fooling nobody. But as amazing and incredible as his dad is, he could never understand Normie.
Doesn't matter — his dad is still totally awesome!
It's fun walking through the city and greeting the neighbors. Normie loves them all. They pass the butcher, who once chased him off from his dumpster; then the electronics shop, where the young guy inside is super nice — he let Normie stay in the cool AC once during a hot day. Oh, and there's the fruit lady on the next street over, who gave him some water once. Yes, Normie knows them all, and he always makes sure to let them know he's doing great now.
They arrive at the place where Dad usually buys all sorts of delicious things. They grab a cart and walk through the aisles. Normie knows he has to be the best, calmest dog in the world. He can do it, because he's a good boy. Dad makes sure to grab everything they need — vegetables, cereal, some fruit, canned goods. They walk a little further and reach Normie's favorite section, the one thing that could make a little dog happier than anything else. There, on the top shelf, sits his kibble. His dad grabs two bags and puts them in the cart. Normie can't wait to get home. Wait — what's that? Amazing! It's a giant chicken! A chicken toy! Normie wants it! He pulls on the leash and darts toward the chew toy section. He's so excited, he wants his dad to buy it for him. Just as he's about to grab it, someone else beats him to it. Another dog. (Hey! That was mine! Dad! Say something!) Normie rears up on his back legs, trying to get his dad's attention. (Dad! The chicken! Look! Tell them that chicken was mine!) But Dad is staring at the woman. Normie tilts his head. He's never smelled this woman before. But Dad clearly recognizes her. Weird.
"White Widow?" Bob says, recognizing the woman in front of him. How could he not? It's obviously her. That plain disguise doesn't do her any favors — he can still see her long blonde strands falling past the edges of the cap, and those fake reading glasses aren't fooling anyone.
Not that it helped that she was still absurdly pretty.
"Sentry," she says, surprised to run into him, "what are you doing here?"
Bob glances at her cart, then back at her, answering the question without a word. The White Widow seems to get it right away. Of course she does — she isn't stupid. In fact, she's one of the most lethal and intelligent women out there. On the right side, she can be incredibly useful.
"I take it you're grocery shopping too."
"Yeah," she says, adjusting the glasses sliding down the bridge of her button nose. Bob lets out a light laugh, and the White Widow turns toward him. "I don't see what's so funny," the Widow's voice comes out sharp, dangerous. Anyone else would've tread carefully. But Bob was Bob, wielding the power of a million goddamn suns exploding.
"Sorry, but even you have to admit it's pretty peculiar, running into the world's best assassin doing her pantry shopping at the supermarket."
"You think I live on air or something? In case you haven't noticed, Sentry, as amazing and incredible a woman as I am" — she says that last part with pride — "I'm also a person with mundane needs."
Bob counts at least twenty boxes of mac and cheese in every variety imaginable, at least two bottles of hot sauce, and not a single sign of a vegetable or anything that grew from the ground. It's wild that this woman eats like a broke college student. Then he spots three bags of dog food and a bunch of basics — leashes, toys, grooming supplies, a special coat brush, and a ton of treats.
"Is she yours?" he asks, spotting the Akita resting near her with the toy Normie had been eyeing moments ago. A smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes appears on his face.
For the first time, he sees a small crack in that woman's cold shell. Right there, before his eyes. The assassin fading away.
"Um... yeah, she's mine. Something wrong with that?" She's back on the defensive immediately.
Bob shrugs, feigning disinterest, though he's not really disinterested at all — he's finding this woman a lot more fun and strange than he expected. So the fearsome, lethal White Widow has a secret soft side too?
"Didn't peg you as a dog person," he says.
"Me neither." The Widow's voice falters slightly, softens. It's the first time Bob's seen her like this. For some strange reason, he wants to keep seeing it.
"I don't get it."
"Some guys had her tied up in their backyard," she explains. "She was alone and scared. Crying a lot, and one of the bastards came out to hit her. So I decided I'd just take her instead."
"Wait," Bob says, genuinely thrown by her story, "you stole her?"
"What if I said yes?" She smiles like a cunning cat, her red lips curling in a way that makes her even more beautiful than she already is. "Are you going to turn me in, Sentry?"
"Depends. What did you do to those guys?"
"You want to know? You really want to know?" She smiles that same singular smile. Unsettling and terribly beautiful. A dangerous woman.
"Widow," he warns.
"It's Yelena," she corrects him immediately, "and don't worry, good boy, they're still alive. For now..."
"Yelena..." he repeats, ignoring everything else in favor of that one small detail, "that's your name?"
"You didn't actually think my name was 'White Widow,' did you?" She catches his embarrassment and bursts out laughing. "Oh my god! You actually believed that?"
It was the first time, since he'd taken the golden serum, that someone had dared to laugh in his face. Either Yelena was extremely brave, or dangerously overconfident.
"Sorry, I don't usually bother learning my enemies' names."
"I don't recall ever fighting you. So I wouldn't call us 'enemies.'"
"Fight me? You wouldn't stand a chance, no matter how hard you tried."
"Are you so sure, Sentry?" Yelena trails a finger along Bob's cheek in a suggestive gesture, that same teasing, pretty smile playing on her lips. "A girl has her ways of taking down a man. Even if he happens to be the most invincible being in the world."
Bob tries to look unaffected, though in truth, that touch stirs something unfamiliar in him. It's the way she talks, the way her lashes flutter, drawing him in to keep looking at her, the way she smiles without quite smiling, the way her voice, with that strange, charming accent, wraps around the word "Sentry."
"It's Bob."
"Sorry?" She blinks, thrown, her femme fatale act slipping. "What?"
"My real name is Bob. Robert Reynolds, actually. Not Sentry."
"Bob..." She goes quiet for a second, then bursts into a laugh so bright and genuine it's hard to believe this woman is a master assassin. "Bob! Oh my god, that's the most basic name I've ever heard."
"Not all of us can have a name as spectacular and well thought-out as 'Yelena.'"
"Belova. Yelena Belova."
"I suppose that's a kind of introduction," Bob says, letting his guard down a little.
"This is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me," she admits, offering her hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you."
Bob takes it, feels the warmth of her grip, the softness of her hand paired with a firm hold. Fitting, for a woman like Yelena.
"Likewise." He pauses. "So, are you going to tell me what you did to those guys?"
"Isn't it enough to know they're alive?"
"You said they still were."
"Technicalities." She smiles wider, looser now. "But if you really want to know, they're buried up to their necks on an abandoned beach, waiting for the tide to come in. Curiosity satisfied?"
"Satisfied."
"Aren't you going to go free them?" she asks. Bob shakes his head.
"I'll do it tomorrow, if I remember. Some people and situations take priority."
"That's why you're my favorite superhero." She flashes him another sweet smile, grabbing her cart and pushing it lazily down the aisle.
Bob follows, and they both walk slowly, each trying to stretch the moment out as long as they can.
"Is that right?"
"Yep," she says, tossing a can of Pringles into her cart. "You never poke your nose into my business. I like that about you."
"If I'd had the chance, I'd have poked my nose into your business a long time ago."
"You're a charmer," Yelena says, still smiling. Suddenly, her whole attention shifts to the Akita. "Fanny, come here. Drop it, that's not yours."
The Akita tilts her head, trying to work her charm. If she'd learned anything in the short time she'd spent with Mama Lena, it's that no matter what she did, that adorable little face of hers always managed to win over her mother's soft side. Fanny is a smart girl, a very lucky girl that this cool, pretty mama fell from the sky just to love her.
Normie stomps his front paws against the ground and starts wriggling like a worm, demanding that this chubby-faced little girl obey him. (Come on! Drop it already!) Obey your parents — that's rule number one. He turns back to appeal to his dad.
"Normie, Fanny's a little lady. I think this time you need to step back and be the little gentleman you are."
"Normie? Of course, so on-brand for someone named 'Bob.'" Yelena crouches down to the little dog's level, her hands stroking his little head affectionately, then scratching behind his ear. "You're a precious boy, way more handsome than your dad."
Normie isn't sure what to make of this, or who this pretty lady even is. But he likes the way she scratches his ear and how his paw twitches in response. Plus, now that she's closer, she smells amazing! And she has all those dog treats with her! Normie loves her already, wants to take her home with him. (Dad, forget the chicken. I want this pretty lady instead.)
"He likes you," Bob says, caught up in the way Normie seems to instantly click with Yelena. The Widow smiles, still showering the little dog with affection.
"What can I say? Natural charm."
Fanny takes the opportunity to trot over to Bob and drop the toy at his feet. She doesn't fully understand what's going on, but she knows if she gives it back, that tiny dog will finally stop hogging her mom's attention.
Bob smiles down at her — she's bigger than Normie, but just as sweet. He picks up the toy and puts it back in Yelena's cart. She stops petting Normie and looks at him, a little confused.
"What are you doing? Normie wants it."
"They could share it, you know? One week Fanny, the next Normie. Seeing as it's the last one left."
"Are you seriously proposing joint custody of a toy?"
"Sounds ridiculous out loud. But yeah, that's basically what I'm saying."
Yelena laughs — not because the situation is absurd, but because she never expected that the invincible, feared Sentry, terror of villains everywhere, would have such a sweet, diplomatic side to him.
"Fine," she agrees, "Normie goes first, then. Fanny's next."
"Deal."
"Should I swing by your place, or... do we meet somewhere?"
"Do you know the dog park a couple blocks up?"
"Actually, no. I've only had Fanny a little while, so I haven't had the chance to take her anywhere besides my apartment." Bob notices her look slightly embarrassed.
"We could go together, if you want. That way she gets to know it, you'll know where it is, and we can meet up there to do the handoff."
"Is this a date?"
"What if it is? Are you in?”
Yelena sighs, bringing a hand to her cheek, putting on an act of a shy, flustered lady.
"I'm blushing, Mr. Reynolds, but I suppose, for Fanny's sake, I could be persuaded" — she turns her attention back to little Normie at her feet, his expression sweet, silly, and confused. What an adorable little thing — "and also for this handsome boy right here."
Normie is thrilled! He wags his tail as hard as he can. A mommy! A pretty mommy who smells amazing! He jumps up onto her legs and licks her face. Yelena laughs like a girl who's never suffered, who's never known the pain of the Red Room. Her chest fills with something warm and wonderful, a love so pure it's almost impossible to put into words. Fanny isn't about to be left out either, pacing back and forth, letting out a sound somewhere between a bark and a howl, tail wagging wildly with excitement. And then, for the first time, Bob, Normie's dad, laughs. Genuinely. Freely. Laughs like he's never laughed before.
The weeks pass, then months, then years. Time itself moves on, and Normie isn't quite the same dog he used to be. He's more mature now, more tired. He's a big dog, and he knows it. He doesn't tear through the house restless and mischievous anymore — instead, he's grown fond of different things now, big-boy things. He likes, for example, sleeping curled up with Mom, or lying on the couch with Dad, or curling up next to Fanny, his sister. They've even started sharing other toys besides Mr. Crazy Chicken. Because they're both good and have to get along, so Mom and Dad can be happy. Still, even though Normie's a big dog now, there are certain things he refuses to give up. Like waking his parents up too early every morning by jumping on the bed. Or running and exploring alongside Fanny at the park. And flying! Normie loves flying! He loves flying with Dad to beat up the bad guys, and he loves it just as much when Dad scoops up Mom and brings her along too. It's a shame Fanny isn't quite as amazing as he is, but Fanny's incredible in her own way, and that's more than fine too.
But what makes Normie happiest of all is that ever since Mom came into their lives, the rain in Dad's heart stopped falling. And now the sun comes out every single day.
A radiant sun that warms the soul.
Normie is one lucky dog, that's for sure! And he has the best mom and dad in the whole world.