The mission called for disguise and that's just what they delivered. Incognito. Sneaking into one of New York's finest Gala's. He dressed in a fine cool gray Valentino suit and she in a long, body forming fire red dress, wearing fresh water pearls around her neck and black strapy high heels on her feet. Looking all the more stunning with her matching red locks. Clint can't help that his heart is beating harder and quicker than normal. But now is not the time to get wrapped up in Natahsa's good looks, they are on a mission.
Making their way out onto the ball room to listen to a speech given by the mayor himself. Clint reaches back for Natasha's hand to hold but she pulls away quickly and all he hears it the clapping of her high heel shoes as she runs the other way, weaving through the crowd. He sighs and follows, sure she's only sick, watching her dart into the women's bathroom. So he waits outside, with his back against the walk and feet crossed. Seems their mission has been compromised and he'll just have to call up Coulson to have someone else come in and finish the job.
After twenty minutes, Natahsa slips out, looking a little worse for wear. The loose of colour in her face has Clint a little worried about her.
"Hey, you feel better? You sick?" he asks, concerned for his partner.
"No. I wanna head back. I don't think I can finish this mission, Clint," she looks up at him with sad silver green eyes pleading.
"Alright. I'll call up Coulson, he'll send someone else in. Come on, lets head back to Stark tower," he lays a hand against her back and the two leave the gala undetected. He has valet parking bring around their SHIELD vehicle. Driving to the nearest air field where they left their quinjet parked. The flight back to Stark tower is quiet and he watches from the corner of his eye, Natahsa sleeping. Gently parking the large air craft on the top of the tower. He helps her down the ramp, carrying her high heels for her. She all together runs inside and down a few floors to her room. Clint sighs and is about to follow her when in the dim light, he sees Tony Stark is up and about.
"So, how'd it go? I'm damn upset I wasn't invited," Tony steps forward to him with two glasses. Clint shakes his head side to side.
"As you know, we're back early. So it didn't go as planned."
"Did he admit to not paying his taxes?"
"Natasha got sick," Clint shrugs his shoulders. "She comes first in my book, you know?"
"Yeh, I totally get it."
"Good, then you will not bug her about it," he informs Tony before slipping past the billionaire and down to Natasha's big room. Finding her already in her bed, the red dress shed from her body and laying crumpled on the floor. "Hey," Clint sets down her shoes on the floor and approaches her bedside slowly. "We're home now, feeling better?"
"No," she groans, turning to face him before shooting up and slipping out from under the covers. Already dressed in a pair of comfy pajamas. "Oh gods, there's something I have to do, Clint!" Watching her race into the bathroom and wincing at the door slam. Five minutes later there's a scream of pure frustration and the door reopens. She drags herself back to the bed and under the covers, hiding.
"Nate?" he asks softly, worried about her.
She did not want this. Not now and maybe not ever. This will only compromise her work with SHIELD and put a damper on her current life style. She knew from the moment she had to run to the bathroom at the gala to throw up, that it was not because she was sick with the stomach flu. And this only proves the future of the next nine months of her life, if all is to come out true. Having darted into the bathroom and shutting the door so Clint wouldn't follow her. She opens the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and takes out a small box. This will prove her deepest darkest fears, bringing them into light and her life. In only a matter of a few minutes she has the result. Watching the small viewing window on the plastic strip when a '+' sign appears, followed by 'PREGNANT' in capital letters.
She's quick to throw it in the trash bin and returning to hide under the covers of her bed, though Clint is still there. He looking so painfully worried about her that it makes her heart sink lower into her gut. Maybe tomorrow she'll talk to Bruce, maybe have him preform an abortion on her.
"Nate?" comes Clint's soft voice and a hand on the blankets before she feels him leave the bed. Knowing he's heading to the bathroom to see what she was so upset about. She should have screamed like that.
She hears him returning, loafers shuffling across the carpeted floor. Then feeling his weight sinking down onto the bed. "Natahsa?" She slips he covers down and looks at him, face flushed red. "Natasha...you're...pregnant? Pregnant and didn't...tell me?"
"It's not what you think, Clint," she looks away from him. Not wanting to see his face, not wanting to see him get angry. She knows the baby's father. She knows and she does not want to tell Clint. It would break his sensitive heart.
"Not what I think? I only am thinking that you're pregnant. This...this is important, Nate. This is..."
"It's not your's, Clint," she pipes up and then hides back under the covers.
"What?" he questions and there's wavering anger in his voice. Upset to hear news that the babe is not his.
"I said...the babe is not your's," she repeats herself and feels Clint's weight lift up off the bed. Listening to him pacing the floor now.
"Then whose is it, Nate? Tell me who!"
"No," she croaks, shaking her head, in turn her whole body shaking too.
"Is it...Stark's?"
"Oh gods no! I would never touch Stark, not even with a yard stick."
"Is it one of the other's...?"
She stays silent and Clint curses. She feels her body begin to shake once more, picking up on Clint's tension.
"Tell me, Tasha. You have to tell me. Please, gods, tell me whose it is. Please," he begs of her.
She pulls the blanket down, tears streaming down over her reddened cheeks. "Loki's. It's Loki's." She hides herself again. She knew this would break his heart and ruin his own family relationship with the god of lies and deceit.
"Loki's?" he pants, almost laughing. "My Loki? Thor's brother, Loki? My daughter's..."
"Yes. It is Loki's! Oh gods, it's Loki's! Please, Clint, don't be angry. Please don't take this out on poor Loona. She's just a precious little thing..."
"You...you really think this would make me hate my daughter? No, no, I love Loona... but Loki on the other hand is going to get it. Oh he is going to have some explaining to do to me." She cries and cries, not knowing what much else she can do under the stress as Clint gets up and leaves her room. Doomed, all is doomed, even the fetus growing inside her. She finds herself moving her right hand under the covers and under her shirt, sweeping her fingers across her flat belly. She really needs Bruce to preform the abortion.
He had stormed out of Natasha's room as quickly as he could, with the pregnancy test in his pant's pocket. He had to get out of there, get away from her. Opening his bedroom door quietly as not to startle Loona. His daughter asleep in her crib, oxygen mask tightly fitted over her small innocent face. Clint walks over to the crib and dips his hand down, brushing his fingers against her forehead and cheeks. She stirs in her sleep, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, but she does not wake.
He turns and saunters over to his bed, turning on the bedside lamp. Taken aback to see Loki already there, curled up on his side and back towards him. The bastard has the nerve to crawl into the nest and expect a peaceful night. Clint is fuming, but he undresses first. He will deal with Loki later, in the morning. Stripping down and pulling back the covers to slip into his nest with his partner. Loki knows he is back, turning over to face him. Green eyes bright, even in the darkness after Clint turned off the lamp.
"Hawk," he purrs. "You're back early. I was expecting not to see you again till sunrise."
"Well, surprise, surprise. Nate got sick and we came home early."
"Sick?"
"Yeh, throwing up and all that."
"Is she alright now?"
"Why do you care? You don't care about anyone but yourself." He gets the vibe that Loki is frown at him, brows knitted down tight and forehead scrunched. "Look, it's none of your business. Go back to sleep."
"Oh, but it is, hawk. She is with young. Any female would know that."
"And you're female..."
"You know what I mean, Barton. Look, she is pregnant, and I know it. I sympathize with her."
"Does your sixth sense go as far as knowing who the father is?" There is a long drawn out silence, filled only by the sound of Loona's humming oxygen machine.
"Hawk..."
"Do you, Loki? Do you really know who the father of the baby Natasha is carrying, is? Do you!?" he finds himself yelling, quick to cover his mouth.
"It's none of your business, Barton, of knowing I have other relations. Especially ones with females."
"Females!? So there's more than one? Gods, Loki, you're a slut!"
"I do not know or understand that Midgardian term..."
"Ugh! You can be so infuriating sometimes!" he throws his hands up in the air, slipping out of his bed. Debating on going back to Natasha's room and sleeping with her.
"I am. I fucked your woman. She is with my young and I'm proud of it." Clint turns quickly on his heel to face Loki sitting up in his bed. Feeling too dumbfounded to open his mouth and shout anything toward the god. "I had with Natasha and she was begging me, pleading. I gave the female what she was craving and now she's with young. You can't blame me, Clint, it was during the time you were gone off on your missions. A female alone in a building of all males, it was bound to happen and you know it, Barton." He feels his whole body shaking with anger, wanting to strangle and maim Loki, to silence his lying. "Now, come back to bed, hawk, and sleep with me. I'll make it worth your while." Damn him and his still mind controlling ways. It has been about two years since he regained his own thinking from Loki, and now he feels as though he is back in that darkness or being controlled. Clint feels his his body being tugged by some invisible string, back to the bed and Loki. And he follows his gut and returns to his nest of a bed and Loki. Crawling back under the covers, feeling Loki's wandering fingers all over his body and dragging him to a deep slumber.
When Clint wakes in the morning, he is alone; besides Loona sitting up in her crib and watching him oh so quietly. He pants, regaining his composure before walking over to her. Slipping from bed and quickly pulling a pair of briefs on, having found he was completely naked. Shuffling towards the crib and picking up Loona. She coos happily and it makes him smiling. Loving her so deeply, the unique combination between him and Loki. And he loves her very much so, despite her condition. Gently setting her back in her crib. "You be a good girl, Loona, promise me that." She squeezes his hand with such strength that makes him laugh. "I love you."
He turns from the crib and heads into the bathroom. Pulling on a shirt and baggy jeans. No assignment for him today means that he can be as lazy as he wishes. When he opens his bedroom door, Natasha is there in her royal purple plush bathrobe, hair wet from the shower. He backs up and lets her inside. "What's...the matter, Nate?"
"Where is he? Where's that bastard!? Where's Loki?" she spins around to stare at him with wide star struck eyes.
"Loki? I don't know. He was gone when I got up. You know..."
"Oh, I know. That's just what happened to me too." Clint watches her slowly walk over to Loona's crib. Plucking her out and taking her to sit on his bed. Watching as she gently rocks back and forth on the bed, humming a little lullaby and singing in her native Russian tongue. She easily puts Loona back into a deep sleep.
"You seem like a natural, Nate," he can't help but smile.
"Don't get me started, Clint. I love Loona, but I don't want this young in me. It will only complicate my life. You know that I can't do my work with a baby," she looks up at him, saddened. "I want to ring Loki's neck."
"I'm sorry you can't do that," Clint sighs. "Loona needs both her parents alive and around for her."
"Whose side are you on, Clint?" she frowns up at him. "I'm pregnant...pregnant with Loki's baby!" He turns his back on her, clenching his fists tightly. He too is still quite angry towards Loki for even touching Natasha, let alone knocking her up.
"You can stay here, if you want."
"Thank you, Clinton," she whispers, and he turns to see her kissing Loona and returning her to her crib.
"So, are you going to...?"
"Get an abortion? I'm hoping to," she sighs. "If Bruce will allow me, but I'm sure he won't. But it is worth the try."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"That's why I came here," she walks up to him and takes hold of one of his hands. He blushes slightly and looks away from her.
"Okay, then lets go."
"No, I'm not going to do it." Bruce turns his back on them, leaving Natasha dumbfounded, sitting up on the exam table with Clint by her side.
"Why not, Bruce?"
"Because," he turns, pushing his glasses further up the ridge of his nose with his middle finger. "I don't believe in taking a life."
"Bruce," she whines softly and watches the good doctor turn to eye her sadly. "Bruce, you do know whose baby this is..."
"Yes, you told me," he bows his head and stares down floor.
"Then you will go through with this and preform the abortion for me."
"But Natasha, we are talking of a small little life. Aren't you at least a little interested in that?" he lifts and motions with his hands as if he is holding a baby bird.
"No," she frowns, "I'm not at all interested in this baby. It did not come about by love. As I've said, love is for children." She quickly slips down off the exam table. "Come on, Clint, we'll do it ourselves."
"Whoa, wait, that's...that's not safe."
"Well, you're not going to do it for me," she turns, pulling on her jacket against the sterile cold of the lab. She has Bruce wrapped around her pinky finger with this matter, watching him squirm inside with internal battle. "Do not trouble yourself, Bruce."
"I'll do it!" She turns to stare at him blankly; the doctor has finally caved in. "I'll do it. I'll preform the abortion on you." She holds out her hand to stop Clint from approaching Bruce and trying to do anything stupid.
"Oh Bruce..."
"Don't do it, Bruce. For the safety of Nate and the rest of the team, something could go horribly wrong, right?" Clint nervously approaches the dear doctor. Bruce looking down at the floor and then looking back to them, pushing his glasses back up the ridge of his nose.
"Clint is right. It is risky. For you...and I don't want anything bad to happen that you can't go out in the field with us, Natasha."
"Ugh! You two boys are conspiring against me and I don't like it!" she glues her hands to her hips and a stern frown on her face. "Clinton." Clint slowly turns his head to look at her. "You're going to get Bruce to do this..." He shakes his head side to side.
"Look, Nate," he approaches her slowly. "I still love you, always have, for as long as we live. And if a baby is to come between us, so be it," he sighs. "Even if it's...Loki's baby." She is dumbstruck, standing there and staring at Clint for the words that have just come out of his mouth slowly sinking in one by one till she has to step towards him and hug him tightly.
"Clint," she whispers in his ear and kisses his cheek softly. Her mind slowly being turned around on the matter of wanting to abort the defenseless little fetus growing inside her womb at this very moment. "Okay, okay, we'll keep the babe, I'll keep the babe," she strokes her fingers through his sandy blond hair and looks up into his eyes. "But I don't like that I'll have to be out of the field for nine months."
"Oh, I'll bring back the battle stories to tell you," he grins.
"Don't count me out that quickly." She turns away from the men and returns to her bedroom. But upon cracking her door and slipping in, she finds the god of mischief, sitting there upon her bed. Meddling with a small metal puzzle, trying to solve it. She stops short from approaching him, knowing that he has already detected her entering. He lifts his head and his pinning green gaze to her, a smile pulling across his lips. He slips the metal puzzle into the pocket of his jacket, standing up to his full height, towering over her.
"You didn't do it. You're a very good girl, my little mewling quim," he takes a few steps towards her and she feels she can't move, that she's frozen in place. His long fingers looping under her chin and lifting her eyes up to meet his. He smirks, then leans down to meet her lips in a tender kiss that ends with a nip and the taste of blood in her mouth.
"I was close. You don't know..how close I..." she holders up her index finger to her thumb to show the distance.
"Oh, but you didn't."
"Why are you taking such...pleasure out of this?" she glares, taking a step back from him.
"Oh, because I love to see you squirm. I love to break you. To punish you for being such a whore of a woman."
"Tsk!" she turns from him, lifting her hands up over her ears, not wishing to listen to him anymore. Wishing he didn't live here with the Avengers, wishing she had never met him. With her hands over her ears, she doesn't hear him sneak up behind her and wrapping his arms tightly around her. Before she knows it, her feet are above the floor and she's moving backwards before being tossed onto her bed. She scrambles and pushes herself against the headboard, further away from him. "Don't...stop, Loki..." she plays the scared female role, while slipping her hand under her pillow. Quick to pull out one of her small hand guns. The muzzle pointed and aimed right to Loki's heart, as the god is stripping himself of his clothing. He doesn't flinch, just smiles at her smoothly. She finds her hand shaking, she's not use to enemy acting so cool and collected with a gun pointed at their heart.
"Dear Ms. Romanoff, do you think that is a wise thing to do? Kill me? That would leave Barton heartbroken and little Loona even more so." His clothing slipping to the floor in a pile of leather and straps. Soon, standing bare, exposed, before Natasha. "Ask yourself again, is that wise choice, to kill me?" He approaches her in a quick manner, knocking the gun from her hand and it skitters across the floor. He pins her down with his body and begins strip of her of her clothing and dignity. She squeezes her eyes shut as tight as can be as she feels him entering and violating her body.
That is how she spends her next couple of hours as he body betrays her mind and she climaxes along with him, over and over till she feels like a used wet rag. He speaks no more and takes his leave just as quietly as he arrived. Leaving her just as he said, broken. Rolling over on her side, pulling the covers of her bed up over her head and hiding. This young inside her is not made of love, it is made of payback.
It is the same routine night after night for months to follow. All the while Loki gives her the silent treatment and he leaves as quietly as he arrived. There is never words exchanged between them. Just heated grunts and moans of roughness and pain of sex. Loki always leaving her a hot mess, to sleep it off the rest of the night. Just to do it all again the following night.
He slips in around midnight, when Clint is usually fast asleep and doesn't know that Loki is gone from the room they share. He is quick to strip out of his clothing before quickly removing hers. Forcing her against the headboard and never letting her look at him while he takes her from behind. The sex is never love, it's rape on her part.
She has learned to take a liking of scarves around her neck, as to hide the bite marks Loki leaves in her pale skin. Taking to wearing some of Clint's large shirts to hide her ever swelling belly, refusing to go out in public with her appearance. Knowing Fury frowns upon her for doing this, keeping her from working on missions with Clint and other SHIELD agents.
She now is sitting up on the top floor of Stark tower, looking out the large bay view windows, out on the city below. Sighing heavily and sipping on her cup of hot cocoa. Hearing the elevator doors chime and loafers scuffing over the floor.
'Sir, it would be best to remove your shoes so that you will not leave black marks on the newly waxed floor,' comes Jarvis' voice over the hidden P.A. system.
"Right, sorry Jarv. Didn't mean to twist your circuits," Tony replies and Natasha listens to his shoes hitting the floor with a thud and his socked feet shuffling across the carpet towards her. She turns her head and lazily looks up at him with one red brow arched. "Whoa! You look like you swallowed a yoga ball!" Tony exclaims.
"Thank you for summing it up like that," she turns back to her view and to sipping her cocoa while it's still warm. Hating Tony's smart remarks, every day he has something new. And every day he acts like he doesn't know she's pregnant till he has to say something about her stomach.
"So, how you coping with god of mischief's baby?" he grins as he sits down besides her on the couch and reaches out a weary hand to touch her stomach. She's quick to bat him away with narrowed green eyes.
"Don't touch, Stark. I don't want to hear it and you have one of your own, so stop bugging me."
"Sheesh, don't need to bite my head off, woman," Tony huffs and keeps his hands to himself now. Making Natasha feel a little bit better, but then there's a long drawn out awkward silence that leaves her a little more than unnerved.
"Don't you have something you should be working on building? Maybe tinkering on your IronMan suit?"
"Oooo, are you trying to get rid of me, ?" he's beaming a grin so big on his face now, it's almost reaching ear to ear, and makes Natasha roll her eyes.
"I would like you to leave me alone in peace to finish my cocoa and hope that it will stay down."
"Don't you want company for that?"
"Not really."
"You're not happy with Clint gone off on a SHIELD mission without you, huh?" he gets up from the couch now and she feels her heart drop. "Have you gone to see Bruce lately about your...?"
"No. I haven't seen Bruce for a check up since I went to him about giving me an abortion," she brings the mug up to her lips for a sip. Almost to the bottom, where all the chocolate stayed, there's a mark etched into the cup. She frowns and ponders on it for a moment before it dawns on her. It's the same mark that is carved into her lower back by Loki's nails. The god is watching her. A shudder runs through her body, along with the feeling she can't move and she drops the mug. The cocoa spilling on the floor.
'Sir, clean up.'
Tony turns quickly at the sound and moves to be at Natasha's side. Picking up the mug and cleaning the cocoa before it can stain. "Natasha, hey, maybe you should go and see Bruce." He suggests, coming back to help her up and leads her to the elevator. "I'll go with you, how about that?"
"Thanks, Stark," she answers, feeling her body shaking and allows Tony to lead the way. Jarvis unlocks the door to Bruce's lab and they enter, the lights flicking on with motion detection.
"Hey, Bruce! Bruce!" Tony calls out for his friend. Seeing the good doctor step out of a nearby room, rubbing his hands clean with a rag. Bruce pauses at the sight of her and stares. She feels her face flush red and she turns her head to the side, wishing not to meet his eyes. "Hey, Bruce, why don't you give her a check up."
Bruce approaches slowly, and with kind hands, takes her away from Tony. Leading her to an exam table and helps her up on it. Having her lift her shirt up and away from her swollen belly. It has only been five months and she feels as she is going to burst. Already having felt the baby inside her moving, but it's impossible. Bruce preps her silently for an ultrasound and she can only pray. While he slides around the wand stylus on her stomach and pulls the monitor close for her to see, they all hear there is more than one heartbeat inside of her; leaving her utterly speechless. Turning to stare at Tony, and he's just as shocked.
"Well, Natasha, seems you're having twins," Bruce turns to smile at her. But by then, she's focused on staring at the screen and watching the hazy black and white image of the two fetuses moving on the screen. She wants to both scream and cry. Loki had not just given her one babe, but two at that.
"No. No. No," she pushes Bruce's hands away, tugging her shirt down and slipping off the exam table. Wobbly on her feet for a second before regaining her balance and she shoots for the door. Wanting to scream to the heavens and to curse Loki to death for what he has done to her. Ruined her, her life, and her reputation as a top agent of SHIELD.
It was a stand off. She caught some of the meeting Fury was holding with the rest of the Avengers and she was out; so she decided to secretly follow them out of the tower. Getting back in her line of work. Sure her cat suit didn't fit her body any more, but she made her outfit of black work.
Now she's thinking this wasn't such a great idea. Sure she has a pin down on one of the enemy's henchmen, but he has her right back. Guns drawn, muzzles aimed right for major arteries, one quick blink and you're dead.
She's hiding, with her side against the door frame, gun up and level, pointing into the room at the henchmen. He too has his sharp eyes on her and the two are locked into a forever standoff.
She feels sweat begin to tickle down her brow. She's loosing her focus and train of thought. Her surroundings coming and going out of focus. Her enemy takes this as his upper hand and shoots. The bullet hitting her and she stumbles back into the hallway, dropping her gun as it skitters across the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse.
"Eh, you're a cheeky girl. You can't possibly be the Black Widow. Look at that belly!" he mocks, coming around to check on her, standing over her with his gun aimed at her head. "You're as pregnant as any bitch I've ever seen. Can't even keep that gun of yours in your hand for more than ten minutes. Worthless whore. I should do you a favor and kill you right now." She glares up at him, trying to will herself to hike her right leg up and get him in the balls, but she can't move it. Paralyzed with fear.
Just then the ceiling above them gives away and all it it crumbles down on them, along with dust and rebar. IronMan, Tony Stark, comes blasting through. Raising up his hand to the henchmen and blasts him away. Then he turns and looks down on her and she looks away from him, blushing. His face plate slides back as he frown upon her properly.
"Natasha!" he scorns. She continues not to meet his gaze, holding a hand to her stomach, where she was shot. The blood is seeping out, causing her to hiss at the pain. Besides that, she is slipping into labour, feeling her water has broken and drenching her legs.
"Not...now...Stark..."
"No, now is a good time. What are you doing here? You're suppose to be back at the tower, resting."
"Couldn't...help myself. I needed to do...this, Tony. Now please..."
"You're...you're...going into labour?" he blinks, staring at her, dumbfounded.
"Yes and I've been shot, you dumb...ugh.." she groans, keeping her hand to her wound, trying to slow the bleeding. He takes a step towards her, leaning down and scooping her up in his arms.
"You better hold on tight, Nate. This is going be a rocking fast ride." The face plate slides back down. "Jarvis, put everything into the thrusters and look for the closest hospital. And you should tell the others 'sorry' but I have to get Natasha out of here."
'Working on it, sir.'
And with a jerk, they leave back through the hole in the ceiling that he made earlier. She hides her face against his suit and holds on tight as the wind blows around her. They quickly land and she feels herself being pried away from Tony.
"Someone should get her quickly her to the delivery room. She's about to have a baby and she has been shot." She feels herself strapped down on a gurney and is quickly wheeled away from Tony. Passing out from blood loss before she can even tell him 'thank you.'
Clint was informed by Steve about Natasha being out on the field and that Tony just flew her to a hospital. He curses throws his bow around himself and quickly runs out on his allies. Needing to get to Nate, as Loki is not around to be with her. Damn that slippery god of lies. Scrambling into one of SHIELD's cars and he speeds off into the heart of the city, having been informed on what hospital Tony took Natasha too.
Drifting and skidding up to the front curb and jumping out. Running into the hospital, not caring everyone is staring at him, but they quickly move out of his way. He skids at the front desk, panting.
"I need you to tell me...where is the delivery room and...where you guys are holding a Natasha Romanoff." The lady behind the desk just stares at him, blinking her big blue eyes in shock. "Fine, yes, I am Hawkeye! Now will you please tell me where she is?"
"Delivery is in the west wing of the building and on the fifth floor. You'll need this," she holds out a pass to him and he is quick to snatch it from her fingers. Clipping it onto his uniform and quickly runs to the elevator. Slipping in with a crowd of people, making the ride up quite awkward. A new born in a stroller staring at him the whole time, reminding him of his little Loona that he can't help by smile. When the doors open once more, he slips out quickly, darting down the hall and bursting into the room where they are keeping Natasha. Seeing her as pale as a sheet and laying there in a hospital bed. He curses Loki internally as he approaches her bedside slowly. Reaching out and taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers. Watching her green eyes flutter open to look up at him.
"How could you, Tasha? How could you...?"
"I couldn't help myself, Clint. I had to head back out in the field. I needed that feeling of being needed. For helping..."
"You were listening in on the meeting, weren't you, Nate?" Her head bobs up and down and he lets out a pent of sigh. Glad at least she's still around with them. Reaching a hand out to her stomach and she gently pats his hand away.
"No..."
"No, what? Were they able to get the bullet out?"
"Yes, I was lucky, it wasn't that deep."
"And the...babies?" There is a long drawn out silence that makes Clint uneasy. Just squeezing her hand gently and kissing her fingers.
"One, Clinton, one."
"One baby? Not..."
"One died. The bullet...one babe stopped the bullet and...didn't make it. The girl." Clint stares at her now, speechless.
"Where's...?"
"Over there," she gestures with her hand to the other side of the room, in a small bassinet, lays a bundle of blue. He leaves her side and slowly walks over, peering down on the little one for a moment before slipping him out and into his arms, cradling the small little boy gently. Kissing his blue beanie on his head. That soft coughing cry almost music to his ears. Bringing the small infant back to Nate's side and gently hands him over. "I don't...want him, Clint," she tries to push him away, looking up at him with sad green eyes.
"How...could you...say 'no' to him? Nate...I know...I know what Loki did to you was wrong...and I am still angry at him for it, but that doesn't mean I hate you. I know this babe is a part of him and it should make me sick, but..." he sighs, holding the babe against his chest, "I don't. Just...give him a family, give him us."
She feels like Clint is the one on some weird medication and not her. Talking crazy talk about keeping the baby. The babe that was created not out of love, but out of rape. Not consensual sex.
Keep the babe of the god of lies. Keep him and raise him like any other child. Raise him among superheros that he will look up to and aspire to be, just to be told he is the product of rape and is a sin, there's no heroism there. He shall be forever tainted with the knowledge that Loki is his father.
She can't take this. Having Clint return the young to his crib and to leave her to sleep. Sleep is something that happens quickly and pulls her under. When she wakes, she's in her bed back at Stark tower, in a pair of her pajamas. She sits up quickly, blushing brightly before gripping her stomach in pain. Looking about her room with squinty eyes before slipping from her bed. Leaving her room and heading to the door, about to leave when Loki appears in front of her. She stumbles back from him, but he catches her.
"No! Let go of me," she lashes out at him and regains her balance. "I hope you're happy," she turns around from him. "You've done what you have planned out, you broke me. You did it, congratulations. You can leave and return to Asgard now and never return."
"Natasha," he speaks softly before pulling her into his arms and holds her against his chest, holding onto him tightly. She blinks quickly, feeling trapped by him and unable to do anything about it, stuck against him. Shaking uncontrollably like a rabbit in the clutches of the wolf. "You're free. I will no longer haunt you," he lets her go, turning and leaving the room, leaving her standing there confused. She forces herself to go after him, reaching out to the back of his jacket and stopping him. Making him stop and turn around, standing on her tippy toes and kissing him gently on the lips before stepping back.
"He's...with Clint, isn't he?"
"Yes, he is. With Clint and Loona. He's safe with them, Nate."
"Nice to hear," she whispers, walking past him to Clint's room. Upon opening the door, she sees Clint with the small babe in his arms and a bottle in his other hand. He looks up at her as the door opens, shocked. Loona is at his side and trying to get a good look at the baby. Natasha can't help but blush and smile. "Hey, you boys," she walks over and sits down next to Clint, kissing him on the cheek. "Think, soon, we can return to work."
"Once you're healed up and all better," Clint turns to look at her with worry in his eyes.
"Yes, agent Barton," she replies with a smile and takes her baby into her arms. Knowing Loki is leaning in the door jam, looking in on them. Watching her ever so closely. She understanding now, he was stitching her into his and Clint's life this way, wanting her in with them. Making a family.
-FIN