Natasha quietly opened the nursery door, crept inside, and shut it behind her. Steve lay in his crib, sleeping peacefully. She sat down in her usual place in the rocking chair, and sat there for a long time, just watching him dream.

It had been a tough, draining day for her. The widespread bloodshed across the city of New York as a result of the events of the day had exhausted and broke her. When the situation had finally gotten under control, she'd looked around her. Dozens upon dozens of people were slaughtered. Hundreds of threads of life were cut short in the fates loom. She'd had to step over so many bodies. Men and women alike, but it was the children that really got to her.

There was a little boy who couldn't have been older than four, with blonde hair and blue eyes whose forehead and face were bloody. He was curled into the side of a woman whom she assumed to be his mother, one hand holding the woman's shirt and the other gripping a stuffed dinosaur. He had a large gash on one side of his head, and she assumed he died from the head trauma. She looked into those innocent blue eyes and felt her heart wretch inside her. He looked just like Steve did when he was a baby.

She'd tried to fall asleep time and again tonight but her mind always came back to that boy. That poor, sweet little boy. The image haunted her and wouldn't let go. When she closed her eyes all she saw was the dead little boy in the blue overalls and tiny sneakers.

Tony had left by the time she'd finished wading through the sea of bodies, and Clint was nowhere to be found. Thor had presumably headed home already, and Bruce had not yet recovered from his time as the hulk. So she was on her own as far as getting home was concerned. The only reason that Steve hadn't been there was because she had insisted he stay home. She'd learned enough about the situation beforehand to know that it would give his little self nightmares for weeks. Men with machine guns and bombs, fires sprouting up like weeds, and city wide panic. It was much too violent for him.

Steve of course had protested. He wanted to help everyone. It was his job for crying out loud! He had begged, bargained, and pleaded, but Natasha had been unshakable. Even when he used his Captain America voice, she would not budge from her decision. After a while Steve had grown tired of fighting her and had conceded to her decision.

Now, so many hours later, she was glad that she hadn't budged.

Pale moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating Steve's face. It was innocent and peaceful, just as it should have been in sleep. He gave an occasional suck on the blue pacifier between his lips, but otherwise he was motionless. Natasha kept her eyes glued to his expression, constantly scanning for any signs of distress from her little one. None were there.

She knew she was being ridiculous, that her fears were completely unfounded, but she couldn't stop ticking away at the list of fears in her mind. Her imagination was going into overdrive, picturing awful things happening to Steve. Things that she knew rationally shouldn't happen, but did anyways. Steve getting shot in the heart, and dying before she could get to him and say goodbye. Steve being stabbed multiple times and the doctors being unable to stop the bleeding. Steve getting kidnapped while screaming for her and herself not finding him until he was dead. Every awful and bloody scenario she could think of ran through her head, and she had to take a moment to ground herself because she was getting so panicked over it. Steve was right here, perfectly safe and happy in his room. Still, it didn't stop her heart rate from jumping up and her palms from sweating.

She had brought herself in here to calm herself down, not work herself up more. So she tried to focus on Steve's breathing and watched his chest rise and fall to do it. The whole reason why she'd come in here in the first place was to remind herself that there was still goodness in people. One look at Steve's innocent little face reminded her of what she'd fought so hard for. It gave her a purpose and brought her so much joy.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hand twitch ever so slightly. She should have passed it off as a reflex, but instead she found herself worrying that he was having a nightmare. She sat perfectly still for a few minutes, watching for any sign of distress from Steve. When he gave a low moan and started sucking harder on his pacifier, she decided to intervene.

She put the railing of the crib down and gently pulled Steve into her arms and laid him across her lap as she sat back down in the rocking chair. Cradling him to her chest, she started humming to him quietly. Her love for this child was so enormous, so consuming. It took days like these to make her realize just how special what she had was. She pressed a kiss to Steve's forehead.

"I love you so much, sweetheart." She whispered, rubbing his back gently. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me." She promised. A few tears leaked from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. One landed on Steve's cheek. He'd been sleeping heavily up until that point, but some subconscious signal told him that he needed to wake up. Prying open tired eyes, he looked up to see a shadowy figure looming over him. But he wasn't afraid. He knew the arms that held him like the back of his hand, and the heartbeat he heard there was familiar and comforting. He knew it was Natasha. He snuggled up against her.

"Mommy." The word was a tired sigh. She made herself smile in case he could see her face.

"Hey sweetheart. Everything's alright. Go back to sleep, okay?" She whispered. Steve frowned and touched her cheek, feeling the wetness left behind by the tracks of her tears.

"Don' cwy mommy..." he murmured, words slurred and eyes filled with sadness.

Natasha smiled at his attempt to comfort her. "Mommy's fine baby. Don't you worry about me. Get some sleep now, and everything will be fine in the morning." She promised.

Steve shook his head. He wouldn't go to sleep Until mommy was happy again.

"Why sad?" He asked, looking up at her with teary baby blues. She wanted to gloss over the question, but Steve's eyes bored into her, screaming at her to tell the truth.

"Mommy had a hard day." She said, smiling to try and make light of it. Steve stared at her, expecting more. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't let it go until he got his answers. She cuddled him tightly and kissed his forehead. "Sometimes Mommy gets reminded of how lucky she is to have you." She whispered, running a hand through his short blonde hair, trying to not cry anymore. The image of the little boy ran through her mind again, and she held her breath, trying to stop the tears before they began.

She decided to sing for Steve, crooning sweet lullabies to him as she tried to suppress the urge to cry. Steve wanted to be awake and make sure Mommy was okay, but his eyes were losing the battle. In a few short minutes, Steve's breathing evened out again. Natasha was relieved, and finally gave into her tears, being careful to not wake Steve. When she felt like she couldn't cry anymore, she kissed Steve's forehead again, as gently as she could manage.

"I'll always protect you. I will never let anything bad like that happen to you. Ever." She whispered into his ear.

Steve moved to grip the front of her nightgown with one fist. He sucked his pacifier a few times, and sighed almost too quietly for her to hear: "Love you, Mommy."

A grin lit up Natasha's face. "I love you too, baby boy."

She stared at him a few moments longer, before returning him to his crib and carefully prying his fingers from her nightgown. Putting up the side of the crib, she decided to give sleep another try. She opened the door, gave one last loving look to Steve, and closed it behind her, before making her way to her own room. She crawled underneath the covers of her bed, and took a moment to thank God for her little boy before she finally fell asleep.