the world is divided into two types of people-

those who leave and those who are left

IT'S NOT ALWAYS GOING TO BE THIS WAY

2015

The tips of Jake's fingers gently dragged across Stacy's skin, eyes crinkling in joy as he watched the shivers that ran through her skin in response. He could almost map it- the way she reacted to his touch. He watched the tiny goosebumps as they chased after him, rising then falling just as quickly.

Hers was a body that he knew better than his own. The tiny moles that were scattered along her back were more of a continuous game of connect-the-dot that he was always ready to play and the scars in her hidden places- big and small, some new and some of them healed so well that there was only the slightest of bumps to give away their presence. Each of them told a story - a perp whose knife had managed to make its mark before being knocked down by her partner, things that happened in her childhood that she would rather not talk about- and Jake did not mind not knowing. Old burn scars, from her first job working at a local subway shop.

All of those things came together to form the beautiful woman before him- who snored a little through her nose, peacefully asleep, and it was as if she were a book, sometimes. Jake would read her over and over if he could- cover to cover. Stacy was incredible. And if he was very, very lucky (tough luck on that one), one day soon, she would be his wife.

Jake's mind wandered to the ring box, which was currently tucked safe in the back of his sock drawer having recently being relocated from his desk at the precinct to their apartment. If everything went to plan, tonight would be the night, and he had been praying to all the powers in all the universes- to whatever he thought could exist so that there was nothing that would hold them back.

His hand continued to wander, resting momentarily on the curve of her waist and Stacy's husky voice broke him out of his reverie.

"You know, if your hands keep moving like that, there is no way we are getting to work on time."

He looked up at her in surprise, having not noticed that at some point she'd woken up. Her eyes, warm blue like the early morning sky and full of love, gazed over at him and a small, secret smile was resting on her face. Instinctively, he leaned forward to lay a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Morning, Stace... didn't realize that I woke you up," He blushed, knowing that she couldn't hear his thoughts but still feeling as though he'd been caught in the act of fangirling over her.

"It was a pretty great way to wake up, so you're forgiven," she smiled over at him, blinking slowly as her mind woke up- fifteen-year-old her would have been jealous of the peaceful sleep she just had. "It's early, though, and your day off. Why are you awake?"

He shrugged, shoulders bunching up his pillow as his eyes roamed her face. Even just a few minutes from sleep, she was beautiful. "I was having the most amazing dream, where this incredible woman kept telling me she loved me." His hand began to move again, tracing the edge of her skin as a soft blush began to surface on her face. "And then," hand continued to wander, "I opened my eyes, and realized that you were actually beside me for real."

She grinned at him through her last yawn, "You're very smooth for six in the morning, Peralta."

"I know, who would have guessed?" he replied with a short laugh, wrapping his arm around Stacy's waist and pulling her closer. He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in deeply and smiling when her responding laughter echoed in his ear.

"I'm not even ashamed to say it's totally working for me, either." Her lips start to trail along his hairline, reaching for his mouth as Jake raised his head again. His grin wasn't entirely smug, but it was absolutely in love, and he pulled her impossibly closer under the sheets.

What a way to wake up.

"When you were a kid, what did you want to become?" Stacy asked all of a sudden. She was curious.

Jake smiled a bit before he answered, "John McClane."

She shook her head with a laugh, "I guess we can just pretend you're John McClane Jr., huh?"

Natasha once told her she wanted to become a doctor.

"Maybe," the man grinned before kissing her nose, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What did you want to be when you're older?"

Stacy blinked. A little dream of being an artist. A ten-year-old who would sing and dance and act and then tell her dad that she would become an actress.

Dark ocean blue eyes plummeted to the deepest of depths and drowned, only to be replaced by a veneer of calm and solitude.

A flimsy façade.

"Come on," Jake urged, noticing but not realizing, doing his best to figure it out while continuing her question, "White picket fence? 3 kids? Professor at some college? Super secret spy assassin?"

Stacy's face froze. And then it changed back to that happy smile as if nothing happened.

"I already got everything I was looking for."

Jake smiled.

"So," she said, giving a light kiss on his forehead, "I was cleaning a bit last night and I happened to see a certain something."

"Naked Jared is back?" he asked puzzled, sadly his thoughts drifting off to the crazy neighbor that Stacy used to have sometime before he moved in, "I thought you said you would never see him again."

"'I thought you would never see him again," Stacy grinned instead of answering, "Title of your sex tape."

"God," Jake grinned knowing there was no one who would be more perfect for him, and kissed her lightly on the lips, "No wonder I love you."

"You're a dork," Stacy giggled- something she was sure she wouldn't be doing if she never met Jake Peralta. It was kind of funny actually, how someone like her... an assassin forged in what she once deemed to be hell, could find someone as happy... as good as Jake Peralta- the man who seemed to find the light even in someone like her.

He knew things about her but at the same time he did not. He knew who she was now not who she was before. Not what she was before.

Sometimes, in the late hours of the night when they would both be home after a long day at the precinct, she would tell him a story. The story.

The story of three sisters who loved each other deeply through everything. The parents who were never really theirs. The house in Ohio that was just a mission. The real story of a fake life. Then the tale of what came after- the school in Russia, the murders, the sadness.... the abandonment.

Sometimes, in the late hours of the night, Stacy Kenner would recount the story of Anastasia Kuznetsov and her sisters.

"I am your dork," Jake hugged her close, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"True," she pecked his lips once again- something she really wouldn't mind getting further from but then Holt would probably kill them... or worse, make them listen to him talk about American Architecture in 1936. "And no this is not about Naked Jared," Stacy told him, "This is about us."

Jake's face was quick to turn into one of confusion, "Us? Wait, is something wrong? Did I do-"

"No, you didn't," the blonde assured him, "Hopefully what I have to say is good though."

He looked at her expectantly.

"It's been years of umm.. confusion and love and happiness since I met you," she said as she sat up, taking his hands into hers, "It's- " she laughed softly, "It's been a ride being your friend, your girlfriend, your crush and your partner. I never thought that someone like me could get someone as genuinely amazing as you. You're awesome and- and you suck at hiding things so I found the ring box."

"Oh no-" he started to whine, his face resembling a six-year-old whose toy had been taken but Stacy kept speaking.

"So, before you ask me to be your wife... will you Jake Peralta, the biggest Die Hard fan ever and the love of my life, do me the honor of being my husband?"

With tears streaming down his face [please don't anyone that I cried, Stacy!], Jake looked down at her with the brightest smile she'd ever seen. He nods quickly, and with a shaky breath, he responds.

"Stacy Kenner, I will marry you even though you proposed to me in bed only so you could be first," he kissed her face lightly, "But only if we can invite the cast of Die Hard to our wedding."

"Jake."

For better or for worse.

A part of Stacy knew that this wasn't real- as much as she loved Jake, he was just in love with someone who she pretended to be, the wall painted by the hoax of who she could never measure up to. Her typical wedding would have Natasha there but her sister was now a criminal against the country or something like that.

It's not like she would actually come.

Natasha had had hundreds of chances to find her, numerous letters sent in vain but the message had been clear. To Natasha, Anastasia was as good as dead and Stacy was not someone she would ever like to meet. Yelena was... Yelena was still missing.

Stacy had stopped counting the days now since she lost track of where her little sister is. Yelena, the little sister she promised to protect was probably dead by now or living her life out in a place that she would never be able to find. Yelena was still one of the best spies that had been of the Black Widow program- there was no way she would be found if she wasn't planning on it.

Natasha and Yelena weren't her family anymore- nor were Melina and Alexie.

But that was okay.

She had a new family now.

"We'll be okay," Natasha whispered in English with a slight Russian accent.

"How do you know?"

She shrugged, "I don't. But dad said that if you say something enough times, it will come true."

Anastasia nodded, "I want to go back home."

The girl sighed, "Me too."

"Firing place of three," Yelena spoke, "Five, four-"

An alarm rang in the distance and the shouting of kids alerted the target. In an attempt to fix what happened, the assassin threw down a smoke bomb.

Running at nearly lightning speed, Yelena made it down to the busy street and threatened a nearby driver with her rifle. He gave up his beaten-down car easily and she took his seat. Tires screeched as she left him behind, driving straight for the alleyway from which the target must have exited from. As Yelena had planned, the target appeared right in front of the car and she crashed into her.

Citizens screamed and scattered away from them and the woman jumped out of the car to get back to stealing back the package. The target obviously did not want to go down easily- they never do- she got back up as if nothing happened and grabbed the package, swinging it across Yelena's face. Her skin started to sting but she push back, delivering punches to the target's face. Then she pulled her towards herself and twisted the knife she was holding as it lodges itself into her abdomen.

Yelena moved to pull the woman onto her back to pry the package out of her hands. Instead, She was met with a cloud of sparkling red dust. Her normally green-brown eyes glowed red, but only for a second before they faded back to their normal color.

She looks down at the target and recognized the bloodied woman lying helplessly on the pavement.

"Oksana."

Yelena knelt down and pressed her hands onto Oksana's stab wound.

"Oh no, what did I do?"

Oksana holds up the package of red vials to her.

"Free the others," were her last words before her breath caught in her throat and she was gone.

Yelena whimpered.

"Yelena, we need a status report."

Yelena closed her eyes in defeat before knowing exactly what she had to do.

She had to send the packages to a safe place.

Well, now was a good time as any to disturb her sisters.

pls vote and comment what you think! I suck at writing fighting scenes and you probably noticed :(( I am not that happy with this chapter but I felt you all had waited long enough for an update!