I don't own Young Avengers

Her

America didn't speak. She had remained silent ever since they met earlier that evening, herself and her current companion. They went about their usual routine, and the fairer-skinned one did most of the talking as always. America didn't mind Kate's constant banter much. It was a refreshing change from the fanboy mutter that filled the ship she could never relate to, and helped get her mind off the trickster demigod she had to keep constant watch over. Kate was at the very least a good distraction; America liked to think she was more.

That night was different than the others, though. She had overheard the boys talking, and couldn't get the thoughts out of her mind even hours past. She knew, of course, that the team had lost members not that long ago, but the more she heard, specifically about the other girl they knew, the more uneasy she felt about this bond between herself and the archer, whatever it was supposed to be. The fact she learned of it not from the girl herself was all the more distressing, and when Kate asked why she was quieter than usual, she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I can't replace her" she whispered, effectively calling a silence on the both of them. Every second in which that lasted was agony, and when Kate finally replied, she didn't even look at her.

"You couldn't be more different from her if you tried." It was an attempt at reassurance, perhaps, but one that worked poorly at best.

"So there is a 'her'." America concluded, not sure how to feel about what she could only take as an admittance.

"...there was." Kate corrected, for what it was worth.

Neither said anything for the rest of the evening, not to each other, at least.