Post Infinity Wars II, for like, a year or so. It's coming somewhere in 2019, this is set in May/June 2020.
She still couldn't understand how it happened. The mission had gone without a hitch, the terrorists were apprehended and the bombs secured. But suddenly one of the supposed hostages had jumped and all hell had broken loose. A suicide bomber, they told her. And the shockwave had sent him crashing against a wall. It had crumbled over him and it had taken the team twelve minutes and forty two seconds to get him out of the rubble. Too long, too fucking long.
A broken leg, a dislocated shoulder, two broken ribs, a cut on his forehead and a considerably deep gash on his side. And a few concussion; four, the last time she asked. The doctors still didn't know how severe and wouldn't until he woke up.
Steve. Her partner. Her best friend. Her husband. The f–
He's laid in a hospital bed, a double because they couldn't stretch him comfortably in a small one. And he looks small, if that's even possible. He's pale, with circles under his eyes and covered in bandages. The open wounds will be healed in a day, the broken bones in four. The concussions... is still to be determined.
She's seated in a chair at his bedside, his hand cradled gently between hers. It's so big, so strong yet so gentle and smooth at the same time. She raises it to her lips and kisses his knuckles, just over his ring –the one she had put back on him after the surgery to reset his ribs– and keeps it against her mouth, closing her eyes and gripping his fingers a bit tighter.
"Natasha..." she looks up and to the door, where Bucky stands with a tired look on his face. "You should be resting. You know he wouldn't like for you to stress yourself." He walks to her and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. She takes a deep, trembling breath and closes her eyes again, a tear escaping and rolling down her cheek to fall onto the bed sheets. He grabs her arms and helps her stand. "C'mon, lets get you to bed. All this worrying isn't good for any of you."
She lets him steer her out of the room and into the elevator. She presses her hand over the scan and tells ECHO to take them to her and Steve's wing. She lets Bucky support her and is unashamed of the tears that fall silently down her face, her eyes lost somewhere in her reflection. When the doors open he guides her across the living room towards the hall and to the final door, her room. Their room, her and Steve's. She shakes Bucky's hold at that point and lays herself on the bed, on Steve's side of it, and curls into herself as much as she can at the same time that she buries her face into his pillow.
"He'll be ok, Natasha. He's Steve, he'll heal and will be fretting over you again in no time." He says, trying to lighten the mood but the woman doesn't budge.
"You heard the doctors, Bucky: his body might heal, but they don't know if his brain will. Four concussions and at least one of them severe. A normal human would be dead or at least in a vegetative state. They don't know how Steve will fair." Bucky sighs and rubs his hands over his face in frustration. She's just like Steve, so fucking stubborn!
"You have to stop being so pessimistic..." she doesn't move, and he groans. "Natasha!"
"I'm being realistic. I have to accept the fact that there's a possibility, a considerably big possibility, that I won't get my husband back." Her voice is quiet, defeated. "Please leave me alone, I want to sleep."
Bucky wants to protest but knows it won't make a difference. Even in her condition, she's still able to kick ass. With a murmured 'goodnight' he leaves the room and then the wing. He enters the main building, finding Thor, Clint and Wanda there, nursing mugs of coffee. Wanda is the first that notices him and gives him a strained smile.
"How is she?" She asks and he sighs, plopping down on the seat across from her and laying his head over his crossed arms.
"A wreck. She just laid on his side of the bed and curled into a ball. Didn't even have the chance to suggest a light meal or a change of clothes before she kicked me out." Clint chuckles mirthlessly and sips his coffee.
"That's Natasha for you, pal." He stares into his mug before raising his eyes and looking at everyone in the table. "I've only seen her like this once, guys: when we met, and she asked me to kill her." Wanda sucks in a breath and Thor flinches but stays silent.
"Mrs. Rogers," Natasha grumbles, curling harder over her stomach. "Mrs. Rogers, wake up. You requested for me to inform you of any change in the status of Mr. Rogers." Her eyes snap open and she struggles to sit up.
"Yes, ECHO. What is it?" She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and stands up.
"He's awake and slightly distressed. He's requesting to be released from his bounds," informs the AI. "Should I do as he asks? Do I inform the others?"
"No, don't. In both questions. I'm going to him, please tell him to stay calm." She combs her fingers through her hair and calls the elevator.
"Right away, Mrs. Rogers."
The elevator arrives and she gets in it, telling the AI to take her to the medical wing. Her stomach flutters and she strokes her hand over it, soothing. There's a ding and the doors slide open; she gets off and walks to the room Steve occupies. She hears voice inside, and at first she thinks ECHO disobeyed her order to not inform anyone, but then she recognizes the voices of the AI and Steve's.
"... you?" He asks and Natasha pauses in her strides to listen.
"I already told you, Mr. Rogers, my name's ECHO."
"Yes, you did, but where is FRIDAY? I wasn't aware that Tony had changed the AI." She frowns. What is he saying?
"Mr. Stark created me seven months ago when FRIDAY started showing signs of being outdated."
"I think you are malfunctioning, ECHO, because I spent all day last week training and FRIDAY was the one registering my hear-rate and breathing patterns."
"I'm sure my information is accurate, sir. FRIDAY was deactivated and I activated on August 12, 2019." There's a stifling silence, and Natasha knows what he's going to say even before he does. She closes her eyes and bites her lip, waiting.
"2019?! Oh, God you really are malfunctioning. Today's September 19, 2015."
Natasha exhales shakily and closes her eyes for a second before opening them again. They're glassy, but she refuses to let the tears fall. She walks away until she's sure that her voice won't reach his room.
"ECHO, call Helen. Tell her we have a situation." She says, her voice trembling.
Steve looks away from the window when he hears the door open. Dr. Cho walks in, followed by Sam.
"Dr. Cho, please untie me." He smiles and tugs on his restrain and frowns when none of them either move to do as he asks or returns the smile. "Is there something wrong?" Sam fidgets and clears his throat.
"Well, you see, Steve... um..."
"You have amnesia, Captain Rogers. You have lost all memory of the last five years." Tells him the doctor in a calm voice. "The shockwave of an explosion sent you crashing into a wall and it collapsed on top of you. You had four concussions that already seem to have healed, but your amnesia tells us that they left some residual damage."
Steve frowns and looks at his friend. He nods and passes his hand over his head. That's when Steve notices the golden ring on his finger.
"When did you get married?" He flexes his hands and looks down, tensing when he sees another ring, this time silver, on his own finger. "When did I get married?!" He starts tugging harder on his restrains, his breathing getting hard. Sam steps forward and puts a warm hand over his shoulder.
"Relax, man. We'll explain everything, ok? Just stay calm." The soldier nods and gets his breathing under control. "Good... ok. You got married about two years ago and I'm not married yet, I'm engaged." Steve nods, but is confused. Weren't women the ones to wear the engagement ring and the man the one that proposed? But, then again, times changed and now women could propose too. He'd even seen engagement rings for men, so he shouldn't have made himself that question.
"Who's the lucky lady?" He says, motioning at the ring and Sam frowns before realization dawns in his eyes. He smirks before answering.
"Oh, he's no lady." Steve blinks.
"Oh! I didn't know you were gay. Weren't you after that girl in the coffee shop a few months ago?" He pauses and sighs. "I mean, five years ago?"
"Well, I didn't know I was into men until I met him, so..." the doctor clears her throat, interrupting them and then is when he notices that she's been checking his wounds and vitals the entire time.
"Your wounds seem to be healing nicely, Captain, but before you ask: no, I will not release you or discharge you. I know you're made of tougher stuff than me, but you still suffered a lot of damage and if you don't let it heal, it'll get worse and I'm the one your wife will be after." She says the last comment carelessly, but Steve freezes and she realizes her mistake.
"My wife? Who...?" His eyes bounce from Helen to Sam and to the door –as if expecting her to waltz right in– and back again. His friend is chewing on his lower lip and the doctor is distracting herself away from his prodding stare by scribbling on her StarkPad. He locks is eyes on his friend. "Sam!"
"Natasha." His head turns so fast that Helen is surprised he doesn't get whiplash. There, standing at the open door is none other than Bucky Barnes. He turns and nods to somebody outside before entering and closing the door. He walks to Steve's bedside, shares a look with Sam and then smiles down at the blond man. "Hey, punk. How's it going?"
"Bucky... what...?" Then the shock of seeing his best friend lets his words sink in. "Wait, wait... did you say I'm married to Natasha? Natasha Romanov?"
"Well, it's Natasha Rogers now, but yes." Bucky smirks, amused by the shocked look on the man's face. Sam doesn't show so much restrain and laughs outright.
"Oh, God, that's the same face he made when Nat told him she–" Helen elbows him on the ribs and he clamps his mouth shut. Steve ignores them and looks at the door, hoping she's at the other side.
"Can I see her?" Sam and Bucky look at each other for a few seconds before turning towards the doctor. She ponders it for a few seconds before sighing.
"I don't think that's a wise idea, Steve. She's not the Natasha you remember and she can't take much stress right now." Steve frowns, worried.
"What? Why? Is she hurt?" He tugs on his restrains again and tries to calm down when Bucky puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Easy, punk; she's ok. It's just..." he looks at his companions and shares another look with Sam before turning to Steve. Dr. Cho sighs in defeat. "Ok, just stay calm." There's a beat of silence before Bucky speaks again. "She's eight months pregnant."
Ok, so what do you think?
PS: This doesn't have anything to do with Back in Time –which I'll be updating as soon as possible, btw– so ignore any incongruences that you may find cause it's not the same universe. Also, this was supposed to be a One Shot that I was making to get out of my recent Author's Block, but it turned out to be super long –20 pages and it's not even half way done– so I'm just posting the first 6.5 pages to see what y'all think.
Kisses & TTYL, Lovers!