Title: I Think I've Got It Right
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~5,800
Characters: Steve/Natasha
Prompt: "Would it be too much to ask if you could write a story where Steve and Natasha find out that Natasha is pregnant (possibly with James)?" + "Steve getting up in the middle of the night because a very pregnant Natasha is craving something crazy and must absolutely have it now" + "Steve and Nat arguing about who's turn it is to take care of their newborn James and end up both doing it" + "Caring for 3 year old james after a nightmare" + a gifset by veji
Summary: "You're pregnant," he says. In truth, she probably should've eased him into the subject a little better, but whatever.
For: darrax, veji, and the anons that left those prompts
I Think I've Got It Right
She takes the test while he's out with Sam and Bucky. Not because she doesn't want to tell him. Of course she does.
She just needs a little time to process it for herself.
Part of her already knows the answer before she even buys the test. Well, before she takes it, because she couldn't go out herself and buy one without drawing attention, and she'd rather Steve not find out that she thinks she might be pregnant thanks to a celebrity gossip blog. Darcy offered to stay with her while she waited for the results, but Natasha asked if she could get her something to ease her stomach, instead, so that's where she is as Natasha sits on top of the toilet seat and waits, playing with the engagement ring on her finger.
The funny thing is that she doesn't feel all that nervous. At least this explains what's been wrong with her, and for that, she knows Steve will be relieved.
She'd been feeling a little off during her combat class with Maria and the new recruits last week, so much so that, in the middle of demonstrating a takedown maneuver, Maria had to rush to her side and steady her, looking over her with a spooked expression. She'd felt a little dizzy, but after sitting down for a few minutes and drinking a whole bottle of water, she was good to go. She'd felt perfectly fine for the rest of the week, even when Nick had dispatched her with Clint and Sam on a mission to Dubai, but shortly after arriving, she threw up in the hotel bathroom and nearly passed out on the job. Tony called in a favor to have her privately checked up at a clinic, but her tests came up fine and they cleared her to fly back.
Not that this had put any of them at ease, but they couldn't really argue with inconclusive test results, either.
Wonder what this test will say, Natasha muses, glancing at the plastic stick sitting on the counter. She'd turned it over so she couldn't see the results just yet.
Her missed period hadn't even crossed her mind until this morning, when she'd been reaching for her flat iron in the cabinet underneath the bathroom sink and happened to notice the opened box off to the side.
After a moment, she glances at the clock, then picks the stick up and flips it over.
Well, shit.
... ...
Darcy takes her out for a late lunch afterward, so Steve's already home by the time she gets back to their floor. He's sitting in the living room, their laundry spread out on the couch and coffee table as he folds, and he smiles when he sees her, picking the remote up so he can lower whatever TLC show he happens to be watching. She walks over to him, moves the towels aside so she can sit beside him. He cradles the back of her head as he kisses her temple, but then she grasps his collar and tugs him closer, pressing their lips together.
He blinks at her when she eventually leans back, and he gives her a surprised smile.
"Hi," she greets.
"Hi," he echoes with a chuckle, smoothing a hand her hair. He seems to wait for her to say something else, but when she doesn't, he pulls her legs over his lap, drawing her even closer as he presses their foreheads together, cradling her face in his hands. "What is it?" he asks.
"I'm pregnant," she breathes.
He tenses slightly, and a beat of silence goes by before he pulls away a little, just enough to get a better look into her eyes. "You're pregnant," he says.
In truth, she probably should've eased him into the subject a little better, but whatever. She reaches up and grasps his forearms. "I just found out this morning," she offers. "I just realized it was even a possibility this morning," she adds as an afterthought, because he'll want to know when she figured out she needed to take a test in the first place.
"You took it by yourself?" he asks. She wants to laugh, and she kind of wants to cry, too. He's always worrying about her and she loves it a lot more than she thought she would.
"I wanted to," she admits. "I wanted to wrap my head around it. Darcy was with me right after, though."
"Oh," is all he says at first, and for a quick, slightly terrifying second, she thinks that he might be mad that she took it without him or didn't call as soon as she found out. But she tilts her head back to get a better look at him and she realizes that there's something hesitant about his expression – like he's trying not to react right away.
Then he asks, "How do you feel?" and she clues into what the problem is.
She and Steve have never really talked about kids before. He knew she was scared, and she knew that's why he wouldn't bring it up. But she also knew that he wanted one—more than one, actually. Even if he never said as much yet, she could just tell. It's also pretty obvious that he's meant to be a father. She was just never sure if she was meant to be a mother. Honestly? She still isn't, and whenever she'd entertained the idea, it used to terrify her, the thought of having to raise this little person into an adult. Again, she never had to say this out loud for Steve to get it, so that's probably why they'd gone so long without talking about it. He really is more than she deserves. But she knows better than to say this.
Even now, when he can probably tell for himself that she's not as nervous as she could be, he still asks, because he doesn't want his reaction to pressure her in any way.
Seriously, he's so much more than she deserves.
She leans her forehead against his once more and closes her eyes. "Terrified," she breathes, but she can feel herself smiling, too. He skims the pad of his thumbs over her cheeks and she lets the gesture soothe her, giving her comfort. "Is it stupid that I'm also kind of excited?"
He exhales a laugh, and before she can open her eyes, his lips are on hers, and he lowers her back against the couch, on top of the laundry they'll have to refold, but whatever.
He pushes his hand underneath her shirt and splays his fingers across her stomach, and she can't think of anything other than the way her body flutters under his touch.
... ...
She reapplies a coat of lip gloss before leaving the bathroom, and Steve gives her worried look as she rejoins him in the room. "I'm fine," she reassures, letting him pull her into his arms and rub circles over her back as she leans her head against his shoulder. "Good thing we've already signed the paperwork for this place because I've already thrown up enough times in that bathroom for it to be considered used," she mumbles into his jacket, and he lets out a laugh. Maybe it's stupid, but she already feels better, just standing in his arms.
"We can go back to the Tower if you want," he offers. "Or let me finish up the measuring. You can sit and rest."
"Steve," she laughs. If she thought he hovered before, it's only gotten worse since her pregnancy started. It's more endearing than it is exasperating, but still.
"Sorry," he replies immediately, grinning as he kisses her hair. She smiles and shakes her head, because he doesn't need to apologize at all, but he does, anyway. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable," he tells her, which, yes, she knows. But she also knows she wants to move sooner than later.
They're picking out all new furniture (an engagement present from Tony), which she wants to do tomorrow, and they came to the house today so they can measure the rooms and doorways. She's already through her first trimester, and she can feel that, for the most part, her nausea seems to be ebbing, and she doesn't get as dizzy for the time being, so she wants to get most of the major moving while she's still able to help. She knows without a doubt that Steve will put his foot down when it comes to the strenuous things, and yeah, she won't fight it. She has more than just her own health to think about and she doesn't take that lightly. That's why she wants to be settled in and comfortable as soon as possible.
"I'm fine," she repeats, tilting her head at him. "So let's hurry before I get the urge to throw up again."
"As you wish, ma'am," he says, and then hands her the tape measurer.
... ...
She tries. She tries really hard, honestly, and she draws the covers over her head, hoping that she'll go back to sleep.
It's almost two in the morning, and she wakes up exhausted more often than not these days, so there's really no reason for her to be up and craving anything now and definitely no reason for her to entertain the idea of waking Steve up so he can get her something to eat. When her nighttime cravings had first started, she'd just slip out of bed and get herself something. Yeah, she'd almost always come back to find Steve half-awake, because he's always been strangely attuned to her, but at least he didn't actually have to get out of bed.
She feels the baby kick and she holds back a sigh.
Let your old man get his beauty sleep, kid, Natasha thinks, smoothing a hand over her belly.
There's another kick and Natasha purses her lips, shutting her eyes and trying to draw herself back into sleep, but then she gasps as she feels a hand slide over her belly, coming up to cover hers. "Ass," she mutters, swatting his arm, and Steve chuckles sleepily, eyes blinking open to stare back at her. "I didn't know you were awake."
"I could tell you were up," he admits, threading their fingers together and squeezing gently. "I think it'd be more surprising for you to sleep through the night at this point."
"Sorry," she whispers, making a face.
"It's no one's fault," he murmurs, and, after a moment of quiet, he pulls his hand from hers and sits up. "Can I get you anything?"
He sounds like he's tired and she feels bad enough as it is. But she knows the only thing that'll really upset him right now is if she doesn't eat like he knows she wants to.
"Can you reheat some of the tuna pasta from earlier?" she asks, and he nods and leans over, pressing a soft, languid kiss to her lips. Then he switches on the lamp and helps her move to sit up against the pillows, patting her belly before finally getting out of bed.
She closes her eyes, listening to the soft sounds of him moving around the kitchen. It almost lulls her to sleep, actually.
"Just couldn't wait until morning, huh, James?" She traces her fingertips over her belly, smiling. "But it's alright. If your old man can handle me pregnant, he can handle you."
James moves within her, and she imagines a little boy with dimples and blue eyes, grinning up at her.
Steve walks back into the bedroom a few minutes later, her pasta in one hand and a glass of iced water in the other, and he sets the water on her nightstand and hands over her pasta, then settles into his side of the bed once more and draws the covers over his legs. She knows he won't let himself fall back to sleep until she does, so he grabs the remote and turns the TV on for her with the volume down low, and she twirls pasta around her fork and watches a rerun marathon of Friends while Steve starts a new drawing beside her.
... ...
She sits outside on the patio with Pepper, Darcy, and Sharon, sipping iced tea and watching the little kids run around in circles on the grass while Maria and Bobbi and the boys are painting the nursery and putting together all of the furniture upstairs. The backyard is huge, with a large tree that Natasha can already foresee Steve turning into some sort of tree house. It's one of the things they love most about the house, honestly – all the open space. So, yeah, she is that woman that moves from the city and into the suburbs for the comfort of her family. It's not like they have a white picket fence, but they have a long driveway and a cobblestone path to the front steps and a patio that wraps the entire house. There are pictures hanging the hallways and shelves filled photo albums and souvenirs, and each room has a different color scheme and design to it than the rest of the house.
She's not sure when the hell her life came to look so domestic.
But it's also not. Not really, anyway, because she's still herself, and Steve's still Steve, and once the baby is here and they've settled into a comfortable routine, they're going to go back what they've always done. It'll be a little different, since they can't be away as often and for as long anymore, but they'll still be putting on the suits.
They're herding the kids inside the kitchen for an afternoon snack when Steve and Bucky come downstairs to grab waters for everyone.
Steve leans in for a kiss, but Natasha shifts away, making a face. "You smell like paint and sweat."
He chuckles and grasps her hand instead, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of it. "Well, one of us has to be useful in putting this nursery together," he teases.
She tugs her hand back and punches his arm, but she's grinning, too, so he knows she's not actually pissed about his comment.
(But, seriously, another comment like that and she's going to cut someone's hand off.)
... ...
"Natasha," he says, hand grasping her arm before she's barely moved to get up, and she looks over glare at him, though he's not looking at her as he pushes the blankets off and swings his legs over the side of the bed to stand.
"You just got up two hours ago," she reminds, kicking the covers off, but he just rounds the bed and tugs them back into place. "Steve," she says.
"Just go back to sleep, Natasha," he insists, though his words are slightly slurred together with the sleep he hasn't completely shaken off yet. It's amazing, just how stubborn he can be even when he's only half awake, though, considering how many nights they've gone through this routine, the words are probably second nature to him by now.
Most parents have to argue which one is going to get up to lull their newborn back to sleep, but she and Steve argues which one is going to stay in bed. Pepper actually calls them ridiculous, and, yeah, Natasha can see where she's coming from. It's tiring, having to be awake every few hours when James is, and it's not like it's all that appealing to her to get up out of their warm bed in the middle of the night and stay with him until he's drifted off again. But all it takes is to hear those little whimpers coming from the baby monitor and she's awake and making her way over to his room to calm him down. It's common for the kid to be fussy every other hour considering he's only a few months old, but it's still unsettling.
And, alright, maybe she's having some weird form of separation anxiety now that he isn't with her all the time. Sue her.
She lays back down, drawing the covers over her shoulder and closing her eyes as she listens to the sound of Steve's voice through the static of the monitor.
He's humming a soft, lilting tune, quieting James rather quickly and almost lulling Natasha back to sleep as well. She's almost out again when Steve finally makes his way back into the room, but she's just awake enough to feel him curl around her and press a kiss to her bare shoulder.
"You have to learn to share the little guy," Steve murmurs against her skin, and she wants to laugh, but she's asleep before she can.
... ...
If they were any other couple, Natasha might think Steve is only doing this now because Sam is over.
But she knows Steve wouldn't try to pull something like that on her, and she knows that he wouldn't even consider thinking that she'd hold anything back just because one of their friends happens to be over, especially Sam. In terms of them as a couple, even before they realized (admitted) to themselves that something was happening between them, Sam has been there since the beginning. It seems like they only see more and more of him since becoming James's godfather, which is why she doesn't really think twice about coming downstairs on a Tuesday to find him having breakfast with Steve and James in the kitchen. She barely even notices, honestly. She's too busy staring at the papers in Steve's hands.
"Bruce dropped these off in the mailbox last night," is all he says at first.
She crosses her arms. "I already told him no."
"You said no, but I haven't. We haven't even talked about any of this," he points out, and Natasha glances away from the pointed look he gives her, watching as Sam stands from his seat and swaps the empty bowl in James's hands with a set of plastic car keys to distract him.
Sam meets her eyes as he passes her, and somehow she can tell that he and Steve have already discussed this, at least a little bit. She feels like she should be irritated that Steve talked with Sam before her, but, well. She had been asleep, and Bruce cornered her yesterday to talk about this, so she already knows exactly what those papers say.
"Bruce believes it would be a good idea to do some routine tests," Steve says, shuffling the papers in his hands. "I think he might have a point."
"No," she replies shortly, shaking her head. "There is no way I'm going to allow them to do some test on my son." He raises an eyebrow. "Our son," she corrects.
"It's not just some doctor," he reminds, voice gentle, soothing. It pisses her off that that's all it takes for her to feel a little less irritated by this conversation. "It's Bruce. You know we can trust him, especially when he did this with his own kids."
"That was his and Betty's choice, and whether or not we can trust him isn't the issue."
She holds his stare for a moment, until then he glances over her. "What do you think about this, Sam?" Steve asks.
The guy makes a noncommittal sound, busying himself for a moment with pouring himself more coffee. Then he exhales a bit of a laugh and shakes his head. "Sorry, man, but no," he tells Steve, peeling open a banana so he can slice it for James. "I fully support Natasha in this," he declares. "Little James isn't some lab rat."
"It wouldn't be like that," Steve argues, though she can tell by his voice that he knows neither of them will be swayed. After a pause, he murmurs, "Two against one, huh?"
"You aren't going to win this argument, Rogers." She walks over to James in his high chair, wiping the smeared banana on his cheeks, and he tilts his head back, staring up at her with his bright blue eyes. She feels herself smile. "I won't let anyone experiment on you, alright, kid?"
"Natasha," Steve says.
She keeps her eyes on James, brushing her fingers through his thin hair, until Steve reaches over and grasps her other hand, making her look at him.
"This won't be like you or me," he promises, squeezing her fingers gently. She holds his gaze. "We're not trying to turn him into anything. There's just a lot we can't be sure about."
"Same could be said about any kid," she argues weakly, feeling her heart squeeze. Because, yes, she's fucking terrified, alright?
James was born with traces of serum in his DNA and they have no idea what that may mean for his little body. The fact that he was even conceived at all was a miracle in itself since she'd thought the trauma her body had been through made it impossible. It was in the back of her mind the entire pregnancy, whether she'd be able to carry him through the whole way, and it was a very strong and very real possibility that something could go horribly wrong during the delivery, or that he could be born with a fatal medical condition of some sort.
So she knows that keeping him under some kind of observation is probably a good call. If anything strange develops, they want to be able to find out now and deal with it.
That doesn't mean she has to like the idea of her baby being subjected to all of those procedures.
"He's not just any other kid," Steve reminds, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. "We should at least try to be prepared."
She wants to laugh. Nothing in the world could've prepared her for the way her life has played out these last few years. The stupid part is that, she knows if she could do it over, she wouldn't change a thing. That's how sure she is about the choices she's made.
"We take him in only at the first signs of alarm, and not a second sooner, understood?" she demands, eyes narrowing.
He nods, kissing the back of her hand. "Understood," he replies. Beside them, James smiles.
... ...
James goes from walking to running in the same step, practically, and takes off at any chance he gets, mostly because he loves being chased. He giggles like crazy whenever one of his aunts or uncles catches him, but when it's her or Steve that scoops him up, he kisses their cheeks and then throws his arms around their necks and squeezes them with all his might. There was no doubt that he would be a precious kid (god, just look at his dad) but he's fucking cute and only gets more charming with age. It'll be a problem when he's older.
"James!" she blurts out. She tries not to raise her voice at him, but shit, he's going to snag his little foot on something and fall face-first onto the floor at this rate.
He looks over at her, face lighting up when she holds up a bundle of grapes, and he toddles over to her and climbs onto the couch. She sets the grapes between his legs and taps his nose, making him burst into giggles. Then she settles back against the couch and breathes out a sigh.
Every minute of rest she can squeeze out of the little guy gets savored.
She flips through the channels for a moment until settling on Lilo and Stitch, which catches James's attention, so this is how Steve finds them when he comes home.
"Actually got him to sit down for a few minutes, huh?" Steve asks, even though, as soon as he hears his dad's voice, James all but pushes himself off of the couch, making his way over to him and hugging his leg. Steve lifts him up and kisses his cheek. "Trying real hard to drive your mom up the wall, aren't you, buddy?"
Natasha laughs, and James giggles in response. He's big on mimicking them these days.
"Hate to break it to you, kid, but it'll take a lot more than what you've been dishing out to crack your mother," Natasha chimes in.
Steve chuckles and walks over to her, kissing her lips as he sits beside her on the couch, moving James to sit on his lap. Natasha hands the bowl of grapes back over to James and smiles as she watches James feed one to Steve. A comfortable quiet settles over them for a moment, and she finds herself actually watching the movie, grinning when Steve leans over to whisper things into James's ear every so often. Then her heart stutters when Steve absently tells James to make sure he treats his little brother or sister the way Nani does.
He's always had scary good intuition.
"James," she says, so he'll look at her. "Want to give Daddy his surprise now?"
"Yeah!" he exclaims, hopping off of Steve's lap, and Steve catches the bowl before it can flip over onto the floor. James gives them a cheeky grin and an apologetic shrug before rushing forward once more, into the kitchen to grab the card they'd left on the island counter.
Steve turns to look at her, one eyebrow raised, and she shrugs a shoulder and pretends that she's actually interested in this animated movie she's seen a dozen times already.
James comes back with the envelope in hand and Natasha lifts him onto her lap as he sticks out the card towards Steve.
"Surprise!" he cheers. He's too cute for his own good, honestly.
James wanted to draw on the front, which is more of a collection of crayon swirls than actual drawings, but she stuck a few Fourth of July stickers of American flags and fireworks in whatever empty spaces he left so it would make a little more sense what he was trying to get at. Steve glances at them. "You got me a card for the Fourth of July?"
"Open it, Daddy," James prompts.
(He is so her kid.)
Steve chuckles and flips it over, running his finger underneath the seal to get it open. The card itself is pretty generic, with stars and stripes and a cute, cartoony bald eagle wearing an Uncle Sam hat on the front. There are certain holidays that Natasha thinks are ridiculous people actually make cards for and Fourth of July is definitely one of them, but it works in her favor, so whatever. Steve smiles, amused, and James swings his legs in excitement as Steve opens the card to find a picture of her positive pregnancy test taped on the inside.
Yeah, she explained what was going on to James when she took the test this morning, and then had to make it a surprise for James to be in on so that he wouldn't blurt it out to his dad at the first chance he got.
He breathes out a laugh, giving her this bright, beautiful smile.
"I think I'm a month along already," she says, knowing the question before he can answer it. Then she kisses the top of James's head. "You're excited, aren't you, kiddo?"
James bobs his head as he nods, and Steve grasps her arm above the elbow and presses a kiss to her lips. James giggles between them, and Steve pulls away after a moment, tilts his head to meet James's eyes. "Daddy's excited, too, bud," he says. Natasha just laughs at her boys.
... ...
They take James with them to the store when they're picking out the theme for the new nursery. They know that they'll be having a girl, but James doesn't, because Steve wants to keep it a surprise for a little longer. James is just excited for the new baby, and, for the most part, hasn't said anything about wanting a brother or sister more, other than a passing comment here or there where he automatically refers to the baby as she. He's probably not even aware that he's doing that, but it makes her and Steve smile whenever it happens.
"You like that one?" Natasha asks, glancing at the blanket in James's hands. It's gray with little white birds and pink and blue music notes.
He nods, squeezing the material between his fingers. "Can we get it?"
"Sure, buddy," Steve says. He lifts James so he can put it in the cart himself and then sets him back down and ruffles his hair. "That can be your very first gift to the baby."
James gets this little smile on his face. It's gentle, but still bright, and he's been getting it a lot lately whenever he thinks of his coming brother or sister.
(Natasha snapped a picture of it once and sent it to Steve. It's been his phone wallpaper ever since.)
... ...
She's up the moment he is, because his scared yelp wakes her up, and now there're these little whimpers coming from down the hallway.
It's heartbreaking to hear, but also fucking terrifying as hell to wake up to, and her heart's still thumping in her chest as she switches on the lamp on her nightstand. Steve's awake, too, and her alarm is reflected in his expression as he throws his legs over the edge of the bed and gets up. She follows him out of the room and then stands in the hallway outside James's bedroom as Steve turns on the light. James is sitting up in his bed with tears on his face and Natasha feels her throat tighten. She knows nightmares are different for kids because it's all relatively innocent, but she's woken up from her fair share of them before and it's awful. She can't imagine feeling so scared that young that it actually wakes you up.
James burrows himself into Steve's side, clutching at Steve's shirt tightly.
"You're alright now, James," Steve murmurs, smoothing his hand in circles over his back. "It's alright, buddy. Just let it out. Mommy and Daddy are right here."
His tone is so soothing, so comforting, that it ebbs her alarm, too. She can feel her heartbeats slowing back to a steady pace.
When James's cries eventually fade into soft sniffles, Steve tilts his head to meet his eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.
James presses his lips together. She thinks he's going to shake his head, but then he whispers, so quietly that she almost misses it. "It was the aliens again," he admits, and Steve's eyes quickly find hers as she exhales heavily.
There'd been a TV special for God knows why about that battle in New York, when the world first discovered that things like aliens and magic even existed. They were over at Pepper and Tony's and it was playing on the big screen in the entertainment room, mostly for background noise, because none of them were paying attention. Except for the kids, of course, because their parents were being shown, and they seemed fine for the most part. Most of what alien footage was cut down significantly, so it seemed harmless to let them watch it.
They should've known the kids would start getting nightmares. It's not like it was just some cartoon to them.
That was their parents getting hurt.
"Want a small snack before you go back to sleep?" Natasha asks. That usually cheers him up, though he grumbles, every time, about having to brush his teeth again.
He nods, and Steve scoops him up, holding him at his hip as they head downstairs for the kitchen.
Natasha peeks into Tatiana's nursery before following them, and, sure enough, the little girl is up, staring back at her through the bars of her crib. This isn't the first night either of them has found her up at such an odd hour, and sometimes Natasha wonders just how long she'll lay there before deciding that she wants to be carried, because she doesn't cry right away. These little noises will just come from the baby monitor, and if she doesn't start crying, she and Steve will just lay in bed and listen to her babble herself to back sleep.
She smiles as soon as she sees her mother, rolls over and sort of reaches for her, and Natasha grins and goes to pick her up.
"Come on, babe," Natasha murmurs, kissing her cheek. "Let's go comfort your brother."
... ...
Tatiana trips and scrapes her knee at the park like Natasha knew she would soon enough, considering she was tumbling all over the place and practically throwing herself off of the play structure. Natasha wasn't too worried, because the kids are only playing a few feet away from the tables they're occupying, and James is with her. He hovers over his sister the same way Steve hovers over them and Natasha and it's totally endearing. It's a big help, too, because it's another person that can keep an eye on Tatiana when she goes running.
If James loved to get caught, Tatiana loves to escape, and she's pretty damn good at it, even only at six years old.
She's her mother's daughter. Of course she's good at it.
Steve and Natasha are both up as soon as they see her stumble, and she sort of just sits on the grass, eyes wide. It's always a surprise, whether or not she'll cry. Most of the time she'll just brush it off and keep going, but sometimes she gets hurt so quickly that it startles her.
Before she can make up her mind, though, James is kneeling down and brushing her hair from her face. "You alright, T?" he asks.
She looks up at her brother, lower lip still quivering, but then he gives her this little smile and she beams and nods a little, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Natasha breathes out a sigh and she glances at Steve, who shares a relieved smile with her. James takes Tatiana by her hands and helps her up, and then Tatiana winces.
"Does it hurt?" James asks.
"A little," she admits. Natasha almost wants to laugh. It will never stop amazing her, honestly, how stubborn Tatiana is about admitting something is wrong, but the second it's James asking, she doesn't even hesitate. She adores her brother.
"Come on," James says with a laugh, getting down on one knee, and Tatiana giggles a little as she hops onto his back, and then squeals when he jumps up and spins a little. If it weren't for his enhances strength because of the serum, they probably wouldn't let James piggyback Tatiana and play around like that, but whatever.
Steve comes to stand beside Natasha, and she doesn't even realize that she still has her hand pressed over her heart until Steve traces his thumb over the ring on her finger.
"It's scary, huh?" Steve asks, and she knows that he's talking about James and Tatiana, and the abilities they're quickly picking up from their parents.
"Fucking terrifying," she breathes. He chuckles and kisses her cheek. "But it's also exciting."