"(Y/N), Sam will cover you from the air while you get to the survivors and make sure they're stable enough to move them out. Clint and I have ground cover, so you should be safe to do what you need to do and call for evacuation whenever you're ready. Questions?"
"One sec," you said, holding your hand in the air to excuse yourself. A brief wave of nausea took you out of play momentarily and by surprise. You couldn't help but feel mortified when you ran behind a tree to throw up, returning only a few minutes later and feeling much better. "Okay, I'm good to go, Cap."
Steve looked at you and the spot where you had just been, then back to you, completely confused. "You okay? That didn't sound too good."
"Yeah, sorry guys. I woke up this morning with some kind of stomach bug, but I think I'm all good now." Slinging your supply pack over your shoulder, you pulled out your weapon and signaled the team to move in. "Alright fellas, we need to wrap this one up fast, I've got a hot date."
"Right! It's your anniversary, isn't it? Wow, I can't believe it's been a year already," Sam said, shaking his head as he pulled down his goggles over his eyes.
"Neither can I, Sam. Neither can I."
~~~
Thanks to your teammates, they made certain that the mission was completed as quickly as possible so that they could have you back home at the tower in plenty of time to get ready for your anniversary dinner. You had time to shower and apply your makeup, put on the new dress you had purchased for this occasion, and still had spare time to lay out your husband's clothes to complement your own outfit. When you glanced at the clock, it already said 7pm, but you had planned to meet here at 6.
He was almost an hour late now, so you tried to call him one more time. He had likely been stuck in another meeting that had run far too long, but you hoped that he would be able to answer his phone. It rang and rang without an answer until you finally hung up, completely frustrated. You threw your phone on the bed and decided to give yourself one last look in the mirror to keep yourself occupied until he either called or showed up.
Just as you applied a little more mascara and a fresh layer of lipstick, your phone finally rang from his number. You answered with the least annoyed voice you could manage, "hey, it's about time, I've been waiting for you."
The reply on the other end of the phone wasn't from the voice of your husband, but another male tone that you didn't recognize. After several minutes of listening without saying a word, when you were finally asked if you had any questions or needs, you clumsily lowered yourself to the floor to sit against the side of your bed and immediately called the only person you wanted to see.
"Uncle Tony," you said quietly with a tremble in your voice, "I need you."
The banging on your door was almost instant, but you had no strength in your legs and no will in your body to move to let him in. You could barely produce enough air from your lungs to call out for him to enter.
"FRIDAY, get me in right now," you heard him say anxiously from the hallway.
Tony paused for merely a few seconds when he saw you, looking dressed for a night out, but with large tears streaming down your cheeks. "Sweetheart, what's going on? What happened? Why are you crying?" He hurried to you and dropped to his knees at your side, putting an arm around you and pulling you to him.
"Honey, come on."
"He's...he's..." you tried to take a deep breath, but it only sounded weak and shaky as you gasped between your words. "I've lost him, Uncle Tony. He's gone."
"Who's gone?" Once the words had left Tony's lips, he knew immediately whom you had meant. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard against the lump that was building in his throat; he didn't know how to handle a pain like this. "Oh, shit," he whispered, "(Y/N), what happened?"
"But it's our anniversary," you mumbled, wiping the tears from your eyes in a weak attempt to stop them, but they only continued with as much tenacity as before. "This can't be happening, right? I'm going to wake up soon. I'm going to just wake up and everything will be back to normal."
Before he could reply, your door burst open with Steve pushing through into your room with a frantic look on his face. "(Y/N), there's been an accident..." he blurted out before he had a chance to see your broken form on the floor. "Oh, god, baby," he sighed, joining you on the floor and taking the other side next to you. Tony released you so that Steve could take you in his arms as you curled into him.
"I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay." He held your head against his chest and rocked back and forth slightly as he spoke, wondering if he were trying to convince you or himself with his words of reassurance. "I'm right here."
You nodded, but the tears only became stronger and your chest heaved with your ragged breaths, the pain in it only worsening as each moment passed and the realization of your loss began to hit you. Wiping your eyes again, you tried to clear your vision to reach into your small handbag, pulling out the anniversary gift that you had planned to give your spouse of only one very short year.
"Good," you sighed with an uncertain voice and a shaky breath, gasping between every few words, "because I'm going to need you now more than ever." Steve's eyes widened and he fell back from off his heels onto the floor as he studied the small plus sign on the stick you had just handed him. "We both are."
~~~
Each hand that touched your shoulder was meant to be one of consolation and understanding, but how could they be either when you couldn't even understand how you had come to this moment? You had been standing in the same spot for over an hour now, staring at the last view of him that you would ever have, a box covered in flowers from people that you didn't even know. Your fathers were standing behind you, waiting for as long as you needed, prepared for it to be forever.
"Hey guys," Tony whispered to Steve and Bucky, hoping to be quiet enough for you to not hear, "is she gonna be okay? We're all pretty worried. She hasn't spoken more than five words in the past five days."
Steve sighed and nodded, "she will be. And if not, then we'll be here."
"Wow, you guys are just the best at being sneaky," you said, still not moving your gaze. "how you've survived avenging this long is beyond me." You leaned forward and slowly ran your hand over the dark wood of the box and held it for just a moment before turning to face the trio. "Okay, I'm ready."
"Baby, we can stay..."
"Dad. I said, I'm ready."
~~~
As time passed, the loss of your husband was still painful, but it had lost its sharpness and was now more of a dull ache, worsening at key moments like seeing other couples on the sidewalk, eating alone at a café, or hearing your baby's heartbeat. Your parents and team of aunts and uncles were almost too supportive, but they were learning when you needed space quick enough. Each swing of hormones and mood brought changes from minute to minute; you could cry one moment, then laugh, then scream, followed by a numbness that could shut you down for hours. Since you were brought home as an adopted baby, no one other than Clint really had any experience in this whole pregnancy business, much less a pregnancy coupled with mourning.
"Okay, so which one of you big babies is coming with me to my appointment?"
Steve and Bucky looked back and forth to each other with wide eyes, forgetting that today was the day for your ultrasound and an exam that they would rather not be around for.
"Not it!"
"Not-dammit. Why do I always lose those?" Steve grumbled under his breath.
"Because you're old and slow?" Bucky laughed, looking at you for approval but finding only exasperation on your face. The smile on his face quickly faded and became sheepish instead, "sorry, doll."
"You know, you could both come along," you suggested, quickly grabbing a bottle of water and throwing it in your bag. "If you both insist on being there when this little gymnast is born, then you should probably be ready." You threw your bag over your shoulder and moved to stand between the two, "I hear it's pretty gross."
"Can't you, um, maybe bring Nat? Or Wanda?"
Shaking your head, you huffed and turned to leave, clearly looking annoyed with their reluctance to join you when they were the ones who insisted on being there for the delivery of their own grandchild. "This was your idea," you scolded, pointing at them as you walked away, "and I swear if either of you end up on the floor because you couldn't handle it, it will become a story that will be handed down for centuries. Reputations will be ruined."
"I'll be back soon," you yelled back as you exited the building, "but you're both coming to the next one!"
~~~
"Hey, gramps. Has she called yet? Do we know what she's having?"
"Gramps?" Steve laughed. "I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. And no, I haven't heard anything."
"Becoming a grandparent is quite a momentous occasion, Steve," Thor said as he walked past the Captain, landing a firm slap on his shoulder. "It's a thing of pride and should be carried as such."
"It also means you're old," Tony snickered. "Oh, hey, since we've got all the muscles here today, we should get (Y/N)'s baby furniture into the new nursery before we run out of time."
"Yeah, sure." Steve reached over the bar and grabbed a beer for himself and sat on one of the nearby stools. His face changed from jovial to solemn quickly, thinking about how in only two short months his grandchild would arrive, and without a father there to raise him or her. He shifted and leaned his arms against the bar, his back now turned away from the group.
"Hey, man, what's going on?" Bucky asked, taking a seat next to him and grabbing his own drink. "You okay?"
"It's not fair."
Without the need to ask for clarification, Bucky knew exactly what Steve had meant. "Yeah, I know. But she has us, and we did okay with her, right? We'll do it again, and this time we might even know what we're doing."
"Ha! Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Buck," Steve chuckled, "we faked our way through most of it." A buzz of his phone startled him slightly, setting down his bottle and quickly pulling the phone from his pocket, anxious to get word from you on how your appointment had been. When he looked down it wasn't a message from you, but rather a call from your clinic.
"Hello? Yes, this is Steve Rogers. Yes." He reached out and grabbed Bucky's arm as he spoke, "Is she okay? Okay, we'll meet her there. Second floor? Okay, thank you."
The team was now all standing attentively behind him, waiting to hear what he had heard on the other end of the line. Steve grabbed his and Bucky's bottles and threw them in the trash, making his way towards the door.
"Come on, gramps," he hurriedly said to Bucky, "guess we had better get used to that fast. Time's up."