Her palms were sweaty. She realized this suddenly, looking down at her hands in her lap. Actually, her whole body was sweaty, causing her clothes to stick to her skin. And her heart was racing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this nervous. She wasn't even this stressed before a mission.
Jesus, she had to calm down.
But she couldn't. Her heart kept pounding and her body kept sweating and she could feel the anxiety creeping up her body, into her throat, threatening to choke her. And all she could do was sit there. Sit there and take it and ask herself for the millionth time what the fuck she was going to do.
For the past few weeks she'd felt weird, off. But she couldn't understand where the feeling was coming from. Her routine was the same, her motions the same as they'd always been. Still, the feeling was there. And she couldn't shake it.
So she went to the hospital, just to be on the safe side. She told them what she'd been feeling and they ran the tests that they deemed appropriate. When they'd called her in a few days later she was certain that she'd been right. Something was wrong. The doctor led her into his office, and she was surprised to see that when he turned around he was smiling.
"I have some good news." He said.
Huh. Not what'd she'd been expecting to hear, but it was certainly better than having him struggle to deliver some kind of horrible bombshell.
"Miss Romanoff, you're pregnant."
Natasha blinked.
Once.
Then twice.
Then she'd smiled. "You're kidding, right?"
Obviously this was some kind of joke. Probably Stark's idea.
The doctor frowned. "I'm sorry?"
"You must be joking. I'm infertile, I can't get pregnant." She known he was probably well aware of what the term meant but it seemed important to say the words anyway. He had to understand that he'd made a mistake. That this was impossible.
"It's difficult, I'll admit. You probably had less than a 10% chance of getting pregnant. But for whatever reason, you were successful." Then he'd smiled again, fully expecting her to be overjoyed.
But all she'd felt was nausea.
No. No there was no way. This wasn't happening.
Not to her.
"I'm telling you th….there's been a mistake." The nausea had started to build up and she'd suddenly felt dizzy.
Then the doctor showed her the paperwork. The tests.
It wasn't a joke. Or a prank. It was real.
She was pregnant.
Looking back, she didn't remember leaving the doctor's office, taking the files with her. She didn't remember getting in the car and driving back to her apartment. She didn't even remember unlocking the door.
All she knew was the doctor talking to her, telling her to calm down, and then she was in her apartment, sitting on the floor.
It didn't take long for the nausea to become overpowering and soon she was rushing to the bathroom.
Afterwards she sat against the wall, where she was now, slowly becoming aware of her sweaty body and increasing heart rate and the reality of the situation that was threatening to pull her under.
Orphan. Assassin. Agent.
Killer.
Murderer.
Mother?
She put her face in her hands and tried to tell herself to calm down. Her hands started shaking so she just pressed harder.
Maybe if she pressed hard enough she could block out the voices, block out the whispers that had started the minute she'd left the doctor's office.
Then she felt a hand on hers and she jumped, her eyes flying open. Clint was kneeling down next to her, staring at her anxiously. "Nat, what happened?"
She was so caught off guard, not just by him, but by everything, that at first all she could do was stare at him.
"Natasha." He said. He shook her slightly. "Natasha, are you hurt?"
Physically? No.
Mentally? Maybe
Psychologically? Yes.
Definitely yes.
"Natasha, talk to me."
She just kept staring at him. Tears started running down her face before she could stop them.
Clint exhaled sharply and sat down next to her.
"Baby, you're scaring me."
The nausea that she'd been trying to control flared up the minute he said that one little word.
Baby.
She was going to have a baby.
Natasha stood up, pushing past Clint, her hand over her mouth. She leaned over the toilet and was violently sick again. She vaguely registered Clint holding her hair back. A few minutes later she knew it was over. For the moment, at least.
She leaned back from the toilet and felt Clint wrap his arms around her torso. He helped her stand up slowly, keeping his grip on her even after she was steady. She turned around in his arms and looked at him.
She couldn't do this.
"Nat, for god's sake, you have to tell me what's wrong."
The tears were still wet on her face. He lifted his hand and brushed them away.
"Clint, I have to tell you something."
Clint tensed slightly but he didn't say anything. Just waited.
She wondered what he was thinking, what he expected to hear. Probably some kind of health issue, some kind of side effect of an old injury.
Something that they could still fix.
"I'm…" The words were caught in her throat. She tried to swallow but couldn't do it.
"What, Nat?"
"I'm pregnant."
He froze, just like she knew he would. His face went completely still. She let out a sob, ducking her head so that she didn't have to see his face.
Eventually she felt his hand under her chin. She tried to pull away but he kept it there until she looked back up.
"Are you sure?"
She just nodded. His face was too composed, too calm. She couldn't read it at all.
'You're not happy."
It wasn't a question. It was stated matter-of-factly, as if he were talking about the weather.
This wasn't what she'd been expecting at all.
She couldn't answer him, so she did what she did best and avoided the question.
"Are you?"
Clint sighed in frustration. "Answer the question, Nat."
She was shaking again. He was holding her so tightly that she knew he must have felt it.
"I can't." she whispered.
"Can't what? Can't tell me?"
"No, Clint, I can't do this. Any of this."
Her hands drifted down to her stomach instinctively. He saw her movement and put his hands on hers.
"Why are you so scared, Nat?"
She looked at both of their hands on her stomach before she looked up at him.
"You're not?"
"Of course I am. Fuck, I'm scared shitless." He was smiling now, like a little kid. "But, Nat, we're having a baby. Us. We're gonna have a baby." He ducked his head and kissed her, keeping his hands on her stomach. She kissed him back, trying to feel what he was feeling. He felt her hesitation and pulled back.
"Talk to me."
It was easier now. Maybe because he was here, holding her. Maybe because he was so excited it was practically radiating off of him.
But for whatever reason, she knew she had to tell him.
"What if something happens? To the baby?"
He frowned in concern. "What do you mean?"
She looked back down at her stomach. "Clint, my body was made for one thing. Not to give life, but to take it away. They programmed me like that." She could taste more tears in the back of her throat. "What if something happens while I'm pregnant? What if I hurt the child? Our child"
Clint pushed her hair back from her face. "Baby, you won't."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I do!"
"That's not good enough." She backed away from him, clutching her stomach. "Clint, I can't be responsible for this child. If something happens I—"
Clint pulled her back to him, keeping his fingers in her hair. "Nothing is going to happen, okay. Nothing."
"How do you k—"
"I don't, okay. I don't. I don't know that for sure." His grip tightened on her. "But I swear to you, I will keep you safe. Both of you. I'll protect you, Nat."
She looked into his eyes and she saw that he meant it, with everything he had. He would keep their child safe. And maybe he could help her to do it to.
On her own this wouldn't have been possible, on any level. She never would have been able to handle this. But with Clint, maybe they could make it work. Maybe they could actually do this.
"We're having a baby." She said. For the first time she could feel herself starting to smile. "We're having a baby." Now that she'd finally said the words, she felt like she had to keep saying them.
"Yeah, yeah we are." He was grinning again. This time when he leaned down to kiss her she put her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer. Their lips met and she knew he was smiling just as much as she was.
They were having a baby. And they would make it work.
