Baby America (Steve x Natasha) - Pregnancy Story

16

Unfortunately, Natasha hadn't slept much as of late. Little Morgan certainly knew how to work her lungs at 3am, and worrying about Steve going back to work didn't help - all on top of being kicked every time she got anywhere close to dozing off.

So when she headed down to the kitchen in sweatpants and a vest, she really didn't appreciate Tony passing judgement. "Sorry, did we keep you up?" He said, sat back in a chair, holding his new little girl in his arms, "You look like shit." Natasha was going to grace him with an aggressive response and a lecture on swearing in front of literal newborns, but she was exhausted. Instead she flipped him off before heading to the fridge to grab some yoghurt. She joined Tony and Morgan at the table.

"How've you been, these past few days?" Natasha struck up conversation, rather unlike herself. She could see Tony was tired too. "It can't be easy." She would know, all too soon.

"Easy is something it certainly isn't," Tony replied, "But it's worth it. I love her so much already." And it wasn't like Tony either to pick up on the subtle stuff, but he saw it in Natasha's eyes and he heard it in her words that she was scared. "You'll love yours too, Nat." Sincerity? From Tony? This kid was changing him already!

Natasha simply smiled gratefully in response, but fears were still amidst. Natasha had never had a mother figure in her life, she didn't have an example to lead from. She would need to learn, to prepare twice as much - but there was so much to be done. And how would she know if she was good enough? If she was doing the right thing? Would she ever know, or only realise her mistakes once it was too late? She knew how fucked up her childhood was, and her nightmare was recreating it, projecting it onto her own child. It was a lot to handle.

"This one needs feeding," Tony said, standing up, "Shall we go see mommy?" He tickled his daughter as the pair exchanged smiles. Tony was really shaping up to be a good father.

Natasha watched as they left, Steve walking in moments later. He took a seat at the table after toasting himself some toast, and greeted Nat. "Good morning," he beamed, looking bright and cheery, "How're you doing?" He asked as he took a large bite out of his breakfast.

"Hey, I'm alright," Natasha replied distantly. Steve picked up on it.

"You okay?" He said, reaching to take a hold of her hand from across the table. Natasha drew back. "What's bothering you?" Steve asked.

"We... We never finished our talk," Natasha said vaguely, Steve clearly not understanding, "You. Going back to work." Steve nodded in comprehension of precisely what the aforementioned 'talk' was.

"Oh, right..." He said.

"You still want to go back."

Steve inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a second as he did so. It was obvious he was considering his response, assessing it carefully. "Yes..." He sighed, "But I don't have to. If you don't want me to."

"Steve, I don't want to stop you doing something you love just to spite you," Natasha replied, now taking him up on his gesture of his hand, "But I need you to be safe. I-I... I can't afford to lose you." Natasha was looking Steve straight in his eyes, locking on. She seemed desperate, afraid. At first, Natasha mistook his look for pity, but soon realised it wasn't that at all - it was too respectful. No, it was something quite different. Something true and pure. Perhaps, it was love.

"Okay."

It was a plain enough response, in of itself, but for Natasha it was the response she needed. It might not be the right one, and it certainly had it's downsides, but it felt right enough for the two of them. A sacrifice from each, a giving of oneself. They were vulnerable to each other, and with each other but both liked that. Steve had spent so much of his life playing the war hero, sometimes he forgot he was allowed to be weak, to give in. Natasha had grown up on the idea that strength came from flying solo, shutting out others, that she saw emotion and help as weakness. Both came as a breath of fresh air for one another.

"Thank you," Natasha whispered in response. "Enjoy your toast," she said, before getting up and heading to her room to dress for the day.

It was a strange world to get used to, but Natasha quite liked it.