THE ELEVENTH HOUR » tony stark ²

22 | the law of diminishing returns

Between the good news, Steve had returned the shield to its rightful owner. Sam Wilson was ecstatic to see that it was still in one piece, demanding a refund if he caught a scratch on it. Steve had followed the soldier out, a situation in Washington had come to his attention. The god of thunder had taken his leave the same week as well, bidding his fellow associates adieu and returning to his rebuilding realm. His second well-wishes were fairly normal, promising a more festive return as soon as the baby was born. I took his word for it.

On that note, Tony and I weren't on speaking terms for some odd reason. I didn't ask either, providing him with the space he needed for recuperation. He had been through enough hassle and I respected that. That didn't stop me from checking in on him when he was asleep or thinking about permanent term. A break.

Coming back from the dead had its weights. Undoubtedly, if the baby was not in the way I would've gone for the kill, striking my point across. But with the family card entering the ring, I had never felt more vulnerable in front of him. 

What was my role in his life? A girl he knocked up while entangled into the mess of situation over the past few weeks. I was confused, scared and lost, all the same time. As soon as the baby was out, I was horrid to think about this, but I was no longer needed. Not that we had made our relationship serious. Marriage would always be light-years away with our stances. 

'Look at that,' Tony said, interrupting my reverie. 'You got fat.'

My heart skipped a beat when I swerved to him, with wide eyes. Frowning, I turned sideways to gauge the bump and bunching up the shirt up to my ribs. I scrutinized myself in a floor-length mirror, trying to locate what he was seeing. A tiny bulge had sprouted under my navel. Aw, the little blip wasn't too little anymore.

'I think I did.'

'I think the notion of kidding escaped you,' he murmured, making his way to me. 

He was lucky he hadn't broken a leg and his healing process was faster than usual. The shattered bones near his ribs were still mending, the black-and-blue bruises still adorning his face like war scars. His hand was supported by a cast and a sling, which he still rolled around as if nothing happened. 

'Here,' he used his healthy hand to shift my shoulder into position. I was now perfectly angled to the side, the bump more prominent than ever. 'See, that's all flab.'

'That's the baby,' I glared playfully for the nth time. 'Not me.'

'The baby,' he echoed. 'Why is she the baby? It's our baby. Ours.'

'Our baby,' I corrected, indifferently. 'All the same.'

'No. No, it's not. Hey, look at me,' he beckoned under his breath, looking at me through the reflection in the mirror. I met his gaze, trying to be as blank as possible wrenching my waist from his grasp. 

'You don't see it, do you?'

'See what?'

'How much this means to me,' he muttered, his eyes brimming with seriousness. 

'I was,' I breathed out. 'I was thinking of something else.'

'Uh-huh.'

'I was thinking of going back to my place,' I let out a small sigh. 'Staying there until the baby—'

'What the hell are you on about?' 

'I know how you feel about marriage, Tony,' I whispered. 'It's not on your agenda right now. And I—I want to have this baby while in a proper position to support her.'

'So,' he swallowed, 'what you're gonna leave me? Leave me and raise this—our kid alone because I'm not a contender regarding pledges?'

'I don't want to,' I shook my head. 'But, that's what you want.'