You're not sure where the time went.
You've been in New York for twelve months already.
SHIELD is officially gone, yet unofficially rebuilding.
HYDRA is gone and you still wish you had snapped his neck.
You see them all on a daily basis; you live a few blocks over from Stark Tower with your wife and you're now an SO.
You're also an Avenger.
You think you struggle at times to adapt; you seem to be losing your skill to manage multiple personalities at once even though your wife disagrees.
At the Tower you slip into the role of 'Agent' quite easily; it's comfortable and easy and familiar.
At home, you find it a little harder.
You can be her wife because you have been for well over a year; it's a foundation of safety and love.
But soon you will be a mother too; you're terrified because you can't remember your own and you have no role models.
When you're alone, you're researching how to be a mother; it all says the same thing, that it comes naturally.
You're Natasha Hill and you're positive it's a conspiracy; you don't have a maternal bone in your body.
You have four months to prepare yourself; she's six months in and is the epitome of nonchalance and pregnancy glow.
She's beautiful and it's cheesy but you fall a little further each day.
Of an evening, you discuss names and nursery colours and she drags your hand across her stomach to follow the flow of kicks; you don't know gender.
You don't discuss your fears.
Until she looks over your shoulder one night; you thought she was in the shower washing off the residue of pressed suits and Stark Industries.
Your laptop is removed from your grasp and she settles herself between the arm of the couch and your body; you've become her favourite resting place recently.
You're forced to listen; you will be able to do this; you will be a great mother; if you struggle she will be there.
You hear her say the two of you are a team.
You nod, and you're kissed long and soft.
Your heart is beating against your chest.
You know how to hide it.
For now.