Natasha had gotten herself up, showered, and dressed. Tip toeing to the white crib and plucking up her baby boy. Hoisting him up against her breast as she turns and leaves her bedroom. Taking the elevator up to party flat that is Stark's 'living room.' Needing to scrounge up some breakfast for herself before the others get up and raid the small pantry.
Making herself a cup of cocoa, she walks over to the couch and plops down. Adjusting her blouse for her small one to feed on his breakfast. Just then hearing the ding of the elevator doors. Turning to see Tony stumbling out, followed by a small toddler quick to stay on his heels. Natasha can't help but smile and calls Aiden over to her. He obeys with wobbly legs, but makes it to the couch without falling on his face. She then watches Tony pour himself a cup of coffee before he lifts his eyes to look at her.
"Oh, hey, morning," he mutters, bringing his cup over to the couch and sitting down beside her and Aiden. Upon looking at her breast, he seems to snap awake.
"Morning to you too, Stark," she looks at him from under her thick lashes.
"Whoa, you know you're breast is just...hanging out...there.."
"So, you're that observant in the morning," she arches a brow and turns away from him a little. "This...wet bar...is not for you."
"What?"
"Don't 'what?' me. I can tell what is on your mind, Stark. It's the same as all other men," she chuckles softly. "No, it's not for anyone but Misha here...and maybe Clint," she whispers the last name and is sure Tony didn't catch it. Again, the elevator chimes and she looks over to see who it is. Blushing slightly when Clint comes out, running a hand through his hair, sticking up the front in a stiff quiff, followed by Loona. The little girl is quick on her feet and has no trouble with walking, unlike Aiden.
"Is there any cereal left?" Clint asks, opening the cabinet with a frown etched hard into his brow.
"No. Pepper will make a trip later today," Tony waves his hand. "There's bird seed out side on the ground," he jokes and Clint turns to give the death glare. "I was only joking, Barton."
"Your jokes are horrible, Stark," he comes sauntering over to them and eyes the space on the couch. Tony scoots over, leaving Clint a spot between Aiden and Natasha. She watches as Loona catches sight of her father sitting down and is quick to join him, even pushing Aiden away to sit in Clint's lap and eye the new baby. "So, does...he have a name yet, Tasha?" he asks with a slight blush across his cheeks.
"He does," she smiles softly, looking down on her little one suckling hard for his breakfast. It has been a grueling few weeks, adjusting to sleeping with an infant in her room. Nothing she ever imagine would happen in her life. He cries at night for about ten minutes, then is as quiet as a door knob for the rest. "His name is Misha."
"Is it Russian?"
"Yes, it is," she turns to meet Clint's hazy blue eyes. "'He who resembles god'."
"Why'd you pick that?" he arches a brow at her.
She gently tugs off the infant's blue beanie to show a head of soft black raven hair. "He looks a lot like Loki, doesn't he?" Clint leans in close and the babe cracks open an eye to judge how close Clint is getting. Those irises are as green as the sea, like fine polished jade. The small infant in Natasha's arms is pretty much a mini Loki. She works on pulling his little beanie back on his head as the babe shivers a little. "See, now you know why I named him 'Misha'."
"Natasha..." Tony pipes up and she looks to him, blinking her green eyes in confusion. "Did you see...did you ever get to see the little girl?" She look at him long and hard before looking back down to her little boy.
"No."
"She's still...alive." Her head snaps back up and she stares at Tony again. "Bruce was able to take her from the hospital and bring her back here. She's down in the lab...but...I don't think it would be a good idea..."
"Take me to her," she frowns, adjusting her blouse and Misha, standing up. "Now, Stark." He stares at her for a minute before getting up too, telling Aiden to stay with Loona, and the three of them head down to main lab.
Bruce looks up from being hunched over a microscope when he hears them enter the lab. Pushing his glasses up his nose and looking at the determination in Natasha's sharp eyes. "Show her to me, Bruce. Please, show her to me." He is hesitant before turning and leading them to the incubator room. Able to peer in on a small figure, laying on a bed of blankets. Her skin is a palish blue, her hair as raven dark as Misha's. She has dressings around her midsection and markings covering her body. Natasha stumbles back and Clint catches her. She turns and hides against him.
"I'm sorry Natasha. The bullet lodged itself into her spine, damaging her nerves and has left her paralyzed from the waist down," Bruce informs her sadly. She turns back to look at the good doctor and friend, and shakes her head 'no'. She feels she doesn't have time to take care of one baby, let alone two. One with such a hard case as being paralyzed. "Then...it would be best to...put her out of her misery. I will make it so she doesn't feel a thing, Natasha, I promise," he lays a hand on her right shoulder. She stills, her whole body feeling frozen and she turns in against Clint.
"I want to leave. I want to..."
"I understand, Nat," Clint holds her a second longer before leading her out of the lab and returning to top floor, to Loona and Aiden.
Clint has unfinished business with Loki and he believes he knows just where to find the god. Pushing the double doors to the roof wide open and he sides out over the gravel.
"Knew I'd find you here," he calls out, as Loki is once more sitting on the edge of the building roof and peering down at the street below. "You are one sick twisted bastard, you know that? Have you met him? Have you met your son?" He watches as Loki gracefully rises to his full high and turning to face him.
"No. What did she call him?"
"Oddly, and I don't know why, she is paying a homage to you. His name is Misha." He watches Loki for a minute before sighing, of course the god knows nothing of human cultures and different languages. "It's Russian, since Natasha is Russian. It means 'he who resembles god'. God in this case, being you." A smile tugs on only on corner of Loki's mouth as he slowly approaches him and Clint stands his ground.
"She shouldn't have," Loki brushes past him.
"And you had a daughter too!" That stops him dead in his tracks.
"'Had'?" Loki questions, turning slowly to face Clint once more.
"She's dead. She..." Clint sighs, remembering the little girl in the incubator, the markings, the bandages. "She was taken off life support only a little bit ago. She wouldn't have lived much longer anyways." He is shocked when Loki approaches him once more, green eyes narrowed in determination. "She," Clint has the feeling to spit it out,"...she had markings covering her body, much like yours when you slip into your Jotun form," he shivers, feeling almost scorned by Loki. The god then just turns his back on him and takes his leave of the roof top.
Clint follows quickly on the heels of the god before he is able to grab his wrist and leading him to Nate's room. Knocking once before opening the door.
Natasha is sitting quietly on her bed, with her baby boy cradled with her right arm. She doesn't even lift up her head and look at them as they slip into the room. Remaining quiet and the only sound audible is the gentle breathing of little Misha.
"Nate," Clint whispers, letting go of Loki and approaching her slowly, as not to startle her or the little one. She finally lifts her head and gaze up to him. And her eyes go wide at the sight of Loki, her body trembling. "Hey, no, stop, Nate," Clint reaches out and rests his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down enough to focus on him. "You're okay. It's alright. He's not going to do anything to you while I'm here. He...just wanted to meet Misha," he rests a hand down on the babe's small head. She sadly looks down on at his hand resting on the infant's head.
"I wish you were his father," she whispers to him, causing him to blush brightly.
"No. Everything is going to work out, Nate, I'm sure of it." He turns to look back at Loki, calling him closer. Gently taking Misha from his mother's hold and turning to Loki. "He's your son." He holds out the newborn and Loki hesitates to take hold of such a small thing.
He shouldn't be feeling like such a wimp. It's not like this is the first time he has held a newling. And yet that is exactly how it feels in his heart. With his little hawk's help, he brings the babe against his chest, looking down at him with such longing. The child is beautiful, sleeping quiet and peacefully, different from Loona.
He hands him off as quickly as he received him, not wanting to squish the little one.
"He is special," he whispers before turning and leaving the room. Needing time to contemplate over his new son and loss of a daughter. Hearing Clint following close behind him as he heads for Stark's living area. Finding Loona and Aiden. Sitting down between them with a slight smile. He has a family to call his own now. Clint joining him ties it together.