Natasha and Nikolai
It had been one of those winters, the type which felt colder than any other of Natalia Romanova's sixteen within her lifetime. This winter was important, it was vital. The stalemate was broken, they had gained ground on the Nazi soldiers and now all hell had broken loose.
Natasha knew she shouldn't be there, that now she struggled to run fast enough, that she was losing her breath faster and probably should not have been lifting the heavy rifles. It was her duty, to her country but more so, to Nikolai. He was the first man in her life to be truly kind to her, to treat her as an equal and the first not to use her body solely for their own pleasure.
If she had been superstitious she would have believed that was how it happened, that was how his seed had bet its target and why her belly was now large and stretched beyond what she would have thought possible. Growing up in the confines of the Krasnaya Komnata she didn't believe she had ever seen a pregnant woman. She had experience with men, it wasn't uncommon for the Muscle to pick a girl out for 'practise'.
Those men had always told her to jump up and down at least ten times after and that would prevent a baby from being made.
When Nikolai had initiated sex, she had felt different, he had been soft and gentle, he had looked her in the eyes and held her hands not in force but in a sweet caress. She had forgotten to jump afterward, but - when lying in the scratchy sheets on a camp bed in some forgotten farm building – she remembered it had somehow been ok. She had felt naked, but not exposed, her lips tingled from his kisses and she felt loved.
She didn't know much about how a baby was made, she knew the white fluid that came out of a man was filled with many seeds, but how they grew into babies she didn't know. She had known, when with Nikolai, that if one of them buried down and began to grow, it wouldn't be so bad.
They had managed to get back to the make-shift Barrack without being seen, this was all they could pray for. The German troops were closing in on her little band of soldiers - not enough remained to call it a regiment. They would bide their time; the cold would get the soldiers. The Snow was knee deep on the men when between the trees, on Natasha it was higher. She struggled to walk in the snow let alone run but she believed that was because her belly had got so large it was almost hard to hide from the other soldiers.
She remembered back when the snow was starting to settle when she had confided in Nikolai that she thought she must be sick. She felt tired, dizzy and seemed to be getting bigger despite the extreme lack of rations between them all. She had shown her stomach to the young soldier, shown him how it seemed to move. Nikolai had put his hand to his mouth. She remembered the feeling of total horror, that she had been right and that she was very ill but his expression turned from shock to a smile he struggled to hide.
He had reached out with shaking hands and laid them on her belly, they were freezing from the minus temperatures but she was too aware of his eyes to notice. He moved one hand from her belly to cup her jaw, drawing her against the rough fabric of his uniform and kissing her deeply. Natasha had never been so confused, why he would be happy she couldn't imagine. Once he broke the kiss he slipped her hair away from her ear, the color so fiery red against his pale hand. He whispered, his voice trying to remain steady.
"Natasha, you are going to have a baby."
The idea there was a baby inside her had taken a lot of getting used to. Nikolai worried that Natasha would cause herself injuries, or hurt the baby, by carrying on as she had been doing but she had insisted on pretending everything was as it had been.
Now, lying on the small cot with Nikolai wrapped around her, his hands resting on her belly and crawling around a little as if he may be hoping for more, she could not think of a better life. Her ring finger had a black ribbon tied around it, his promise that one day she would become Natalia Starkovska for real. That their child would be made true. She turned in his grasp, facing him properly.
"You and I, and our baby, we will make a good family, a perfect family."
Nikolai had kissed her then, kissed her sweetly before peppering kisses along her jaw and further. She later would swear the rest of the men in the camp heard their antics on that evening as they made love for the very last time.
The morning would come, Natasha would feel unwell, sick and her stomach uncomfortable. They would be ambushed, Nikolai and she would run hand and hand, then his grip would loosen, his hand would slip from hers. She would keep running, running and running until she dropped in pain into the small camp.
She had screamed then. Her body had felt as though it was breaking, crushing itself from the inside out. She cried as the pains got faster and stronger, cried even after she was found and carried to the small cottage where, after an 18-hour labor, her baby girl would arrive in this world. Like her father, Rose was not part of the world anymore. Once she was able to walk Natasha buried her baby in the snow, near the barrack where she had been conceived. The Barrack is long gone, but the memory will always remain.
Natasha and Clint
She knew from his face that something was up. Clint looked like a kicked puppy in equal measures with someone who was drunk. Something was up and Natasha – not one to blow her own trumpet – could tell immediately that his 'I'm fine' was an attempt to lie to her. You couldn't lie to a Red Room girl, they couldn't even lie to each other, and definitely not to Ivan.
They had sparred in the morning, all part of her training and learning to play nice in order to be a proper S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He had looked at her with confusion when she placed her old Pointe shoes on her feet but other than that he had shown no emotion until she bit him. He had yelped out loud and instantly dropped her from the choke hold he had. She had dropped neatly to the floor, landing on the balls of her feet like she had been taught. Clint grasped his, now bleeding hand, and glared at her.
"Fuck's sake Nat!" He scowled.
Oops. She was still getting used to what qualified as dirty fighting, and as things you didn't do to a sparring partner. Still, a few weeks ago she had shot Clint on a mission – it had been a complete accident, she had misjudged his movements and got a tad cocky. The Bullet had brushed his arm, going to the muscle but there had been no other damage.
She knew this was what she wanted. She needed to be S.H.I.E.L.D. needed a clean start and a chance to put things behind her. She needed to stop being other people and learn who Natasha Romanoff was.
"Crap." She noticed the blood was now dripping off his fist and jogged to the first aid kit in the corner of the small gym. Taking Clint's left hand in hers she cleaned and dressed the wound, trying her best to look as apologetic as any ex-assassin could.
Her eyes paused on his large hand for a moment. She swore she had never seen him wearing a gold wedding band before. Clint must have caught her looking because he snatched his hand back, unraveling the untied bandage in the process.
"Shit!" he called out.
Nat pulled the hand back to hers, looking directly at him this time she sighed.
"Clint, sit down and either tell me what's going on or sit still."
He did as he was told, dropping to the padded floor with a sigh and a hiss from the gym mat. Natasha followed him, neatly crossing her legs and taking back the injured hand to re-wrap the bandage.
She kept her eyes on the bandage as she spoke.
"So, you're married?"
Clint sighed, causing her to look up.
"I've been married a year – Laura, her name is Laura."
"And I'm getting a hint that there might be a problem there."
He shrugged.
"Come on Clint, I know I'm not exactly the most trust worthy but I thought we were getting past this."
"She's Pregnant, Nat."
Natasha froze, her stomach shriveling and convulsing, she felt like she would either cry or throw up. Neither was an option. She had never been close to another person enough to care if they had kids. It wasn't that she fancied herself with Barton, he was good-looking enough, large hands so he should have been a decent one-nighter but that was all. No, instead she thought of her body, of her baby and her losses.
Natasha swallowed, trying to compose herself before making eye contact with her partner.
"And, something tells me that's a bad thing?"
Clint shrugged, looking away at the distant wall,
"We just thought we'd see, no precautions, just-"
"Have as much sex as you wanted, see what happened?"
"Exactly. I just, I didn't think it would be this soon." He paused, looking her straight in the eyes.
"I can't be a dad in this job Nat, think about it, what if an op went personally? I love this job, I love being needed, knowing I'm doing something for my country."
That was something Natasha understood, really understood.
"Clint, do you really think you are the first high intel S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to put a baby in someone? Fury will sort something out. If anyone knows how to do secret, how to keep someone safe, then it's S.H.I.E.L.D."
Clint snorted,
"You're not the romantic type are you Ms. Romanoff?"
Natasha shrugged,
"Not really, I have never witnessed a love that lasts. But I do know that love for children, that never dies."
Clint turned serious for a moment,
"Are you, do you have, I mean, have you had kids?"
Natasha thought, she longed to tell someone, to have someone to share the pain she knew she had never truly addressed but the risk was too great. No one knew anymore, the woman who had delivered Natasha's baby girl would be long gone. They had been alone. Rose Romanova was pure, innocent and outwith her mother's mistakes. She was better that way, even if it meant feeling the loss for the rest of eternity.
"You must be joking Barton, hate to say it but a body like this doesn't last after a kid."
Clint laughed,
"You'll be a good Dad Clint, I know you will be. You just need to get your head around it. And Speak to Fury, he'll sort it, I'll make sure of that."
As she spoke Natasha got up and walked, swaying her hips in a way that was always too exaggerated, leaving Clint with his bandaged hand and his thoughts.
The truth was, and Clint didn't really acknowledge it for many years - not even to himself, Clint had known there was more. Reading Natasha's medical report, he had later discovered she had been sterilized at some point. Later still he became aware of a tattoo of a black rose at the apex of her thighs. Natasha wasn't the type to risk her cover that easily, the tattoo was the type that would mean nothing to the men she slept with but clearly meant someone to her.
Clint was sure Natasha had been a mother, whether she had been forced to give up her child, or perhaps aborted it he would never know but the strength she had, to carry the memory of another life was something he would always respect the strong and elusive woman.
He named his second son after her, a wish that Nate would grow up strong and righteous with a kick-ass approach and a ridiculously dead-pan sense of humour, but only Clint would know he named his baby boy for another reason, for a baby he was not supposed to know about, for a lifetime that Natasha chose to forget and for love which had once been lost.