The Soldier's Spy

Chapter 10

Steve pulled out the cellphone from his pocket, ready to dial Tony.

"Don't call Tony," Natasha gasped as another wave of pain wracked her body, "Just call a taxi."

"But Natasha," he spoke, "You're in labor!"

"And I'm going to be that way for the next few hours!" she seethed, fingers clenching Steve's wrist.

He nodded, acquiescing her request.

___________

He should've called Tony. Even better he should've called Dr. Banner.

With every wave of pain that spread through Natasha's body he could hear her curse. Russian obscenities fluidly pouring from her lips.

It was a good thing that the taxi driver spoke English and was driving fast with the promise of extra money.

"Nat," he spoke, "Just breathe," he whispered, Natasha's hands clenching his. The spy nodded as she began to inhale deeply before exhaling.

Steve began to grow worried as her contractions became closer and closer.

However, he grew relieved when the taxi parked right in front the hospital doors.

Without waiting for Steve to open the door for her, the spy stepped out, one hand clutching her stomach and the other supporting her weight against the the metal railing.

Steve quickly handed the driver a one hundred and a twenty before darting to Nat's side and guiding her towards the ER reception.

"Help!" he said, the weight of Natasha's body leaning heavily against his, "She's in labor!"

A nurse rushed to their aide, a wheelchair in tow, "How far apart are the contractions?"

"Six minutes," he spoke, wanting to follow Natasha who was being wheeled down the hall. The nurse nodded, "She's close then. Come with me. We need to change you into something more suitable," she spoke, eyes going down his expensive suit.

It wasn't till he was finally dressed in a blue nurse garb did he realize what was happening.

He was going to be a father.

"Hurry!" the nurse said, pushing Steve into the room.

On the bed laid Natasha, beads of sweat pouring from her forehead, red hair sticking against her skin.

"Nat," he spoke, rushing towards her side, taking her clammy hand into his, "Just take deep breaths."

Green eyes meet his, fingers clenching his.

A cry left her lips, her back lifting up from the bed just as the last contraction left her body.

"Alright!" the doctor said, "I want you to push on the count of three. One, two and three!"

He watched Natasha cry out in pain, her hand cutting the circulation from his fingers.

You can do this Natasha, he thought, as he tried to remain calm as possible.

A few pushes later, he heard the most beautiful sound ever.

***
Natasha never thought she would ever become a mother. For months she questioned if she would even be a good maternal figure for the child that grew inside her.

But that first cry sealed the deal.

A gasp of relief left her lips, her heart swelling.

"Wow," the doctor said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile which remained hidden behind the mask, "That's a good set of lungs."

She watched Steve take the child in his arms, blue eyes filling with love.

"It's a boy," Steve murmured, blue eyes glimmering with tears, the child quieting in his arms.

"Let me hold him," she rasped, raising her arms weakly.

With Steve's help, she held her child for the first time. Tufts of blonde hair covered her child's tiny head, green eyes blinking up at her.

She watched the child's eyes close, tiny hands clenched into fists. He looks much like Steve, she thought.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, as she traced the curve of her son's face, "James," she whispered softly.

*****
"Alright," the doctor spoke, "We need to get the child to get him cleaned up and provide him some necessary procedures."

Steve nodded, turning to take the small bundle in his arms, however he noticed a sudden paleness to her skin.

"Natasha?" he spoke, his voice laced with worry.

"Take him, hurry," she rasped, her voice strained.

He knew that tone. Something she used when something terrible was about to happen. He took James into his arms, his first thought being that she had possibly spotted danger through the window or among the doctors.

What happened next was something he had never been prepared for.

Green hues dulled before rolling to the back of her head, her back arching as a seizure suddenly shook her body.

Everything was a blurred frenzy. James was taken from his arms, a nurse quickly ushering him from the room.

"What's going on?" he asked, heart clenching with fear. The nurse said nothing as she went back inside, followed by two more doctors.

Fear of losing her shook him to the core. They were just taking the first step into being in a relationship.

Fingers trembled as he dialed a number, the phone ringing in his ear.

"Hello?" a masculine voice said from the other side.

"Clint, it's Steve. Nat-," he choked, tears, tears flowing freely from his eyes.

"Steve," Clint spoke, "Calm down, tell me. Is Nat okay?"

He rested his forehead against the wall, "No," he managed out, unable to say more.

"Okay," Clint said, his tone serious, "I've traced your location. I'll be on my way."

The phone call ended just as a doctor left the room, her hands clenching her stethoscope.

"Mr. Rogers?"

His body tense, bracing for impact, "How is she? Is she okay?"

He could see the mask that clung to her middle aged features, "I'm sorry but your wife has entered a coma."

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