You always hurt the one you love
The one you shouldn't hurt at all
You always take the sweetest rose
Crush it, till the petals fall
You always break the kindest heart
With a hasty word you can't recall, so
If I broke your heart last night
It's because I love you most of all…
You Always Hurt the One You Love by The Mills Brothers
"Where the hell is it?" Emily muttered, shifting around papers as her cell phone continued to chime. "Mother fu-AH HA! Hello?"
"Hello, love. I'm just calling to say congratulations."
"Congratulations? For what?" Em asked.
"You haven't seen it?" Carter chuckled.
"Seen what?"
"It's exciting news, Em. You really should know."
"Tell me or hang up, Falsworth."
"I'm astonished."
"Carter."
"Number eight on the New York Times Non-Fiction Best Sellers list."
"What?"
"Your book – 'The Avengers: An Analysis – made the Best Sellers list."
"You're fucking joking," Emily gasped as she spun her home office chair to face the computer. Her fingers flew across the keyboard before she shrieked. "Oh my god!"
"Congrats Em," Carter laughed. "One life goal accomplished."
"Oh my god, Cart! This is…this is…holy shit."
"You're so articulate; it's easy to see how you had part of a best seller."
"Shut up," she grinned. "Oh my god, I can't believe this. How'd you find out?"
"I've got you on Google Alerts."
"Nice to know your spying has gotten so high tech," she smirked.
"Only the best for my favorite mark. Listen, I'm running into a meeting now, but you and I will celebrate later, alright?"
"Definitely. If you see my long-lost boyfriend, tell him I said hello and remind him that tonight is our make up date night. And as much as I love you, if you show up instead of him again, there are going to be problems."
"I'll tell him," he chuckled, "And Emily?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really happy for you. I know how hard you worked for this."
"Thank you Carter," Em said, blinking against the sudden tears in her eyes. "Love you."
"Love you too." As soon as they disconnected, Em jumped to her feet and did her happy dance. She was a published author, and her contribution had commercial success!
Still grinning, she grabbed her cell phone and began calling people. Her mood was dampened somewhat when the call to Steve went to voice mail. With her mother, it had been expected because she had her high school classes to teach, but her dad was just as excited as she was and made sure that she knew he'd purchased his copy. Tucker had said that he would have a celebratory drink for her. Lauren had preemptively sent her a picture with the book opened to her chapter.
With a glance at her watch, she stood up and walked to her bedroom to change out of her sweatpants and into some actual clothes. Research could wait. Tonight's date night was going to be awesome.
OOO
Cooking at Steve's apartment was so much better than cooking in her own, Emily decided as she grabbed the pan full of pecan and breadcrumb crusted chicken and tossed it into the oven to keep warm. Tony had spared no expense with the appliances, and she definitely appreciated it. Plus, she thought with a smile, Steve's place had a dining room table, unlike her apartment where they ate on the couch.
With a glance at the oven clock, Em threw her hair into a ponytail and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. Steve was due to be home in half an hour, which gave her just enough time to get ready and whip together the rest of dinner.
Once out of the shower and put together again, Em slipped on the purple dress and black heels before taking the elevator up to Tony and Pepper's floor, which was vacant as the couple was in California. Em raided the well stocked bar for a bottle of Chardonnay and a tumbler of bourbon for the sauce she was going to make.
While she didn't cook very often, Emily could cook when she put her mind to it. Bourbon pecan chicken had been one of her grad school friend's go-to recipes, and she'd begrudgingly shared it with her when Em saved her ass after a computer crash lost the midterm exam she was going to give the next day. It had taken an all-nighter to write it again, but the payment was well worth it. The apple, cranberry, and toasted almond couscous was an Internet find that she loved.
With her last few minutes, Em set the table. She felt somewhat cheesy lighting two candles, but she and Steve hadn't spent much time together since he'd started with S.H.I.E.L.D. and she was ready to celebrate. During the last three week, Steve had been out on missions more often than not. In order to see each other, Em had taken to spending the night at his place regardless of her schedule. Her commute to the university was longer, but those few minutes she was awake enough to ask him about his day when he slid into bed with her and the quick conversations over coffee as she got ready was the most time they were guaranteed. They'd decided to have a weekly date night but it was a bust, as Steve had to constantly reschedule. But with the Fall semester over, Em didn't have to worry about classes, grading, office hours, or department meetings.
There were definite perks to being a professor, she thought with a smile.
When Steve was ten minutes late, Emily shrugged it off. When he was half an hour late, she started to worry. By the time an hour hit, she'd called him twice but without an answer and had broken into the wine. It was edging closer to an hour and a half when she got a text message.
Staying late, not sure when I'll be home. Sorry I missed your call. Love you.
Em read it over again before sighing and letting the phone drop back onto the table. She put her head in her hands and tried to blink back the tears of disappointment that – yet again – Steve had cancelled at the last minute. Hell, it wasn't even last minute. He had forgotten.
OOO
"Cap," Clint said, nudging Steve. "Your floor."
"Hum?" Steve grunted before swiping a hand over his face.
"Get some sleep. You've been busting your ass these last few weeks."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that," Steve nodded as the elevator door opened to his floor of Stark Tower.
"Mmmm, something smells good," Clint grinned, nudging Steve again. "Must be nice to have home cooked meals to come home to."
"Fuck. God damn it," Steve hit his head against the elevator wall and grimaced.
"Guessing that's not a good thing. I hope she's not to pissed."
"She's going to be."
"Have fun with that. Night."
"Yeah," Steve sighed. "Night." He dropped his bag by the couch and shrugged off his jacket while JARVIS brought up the lights. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he could tell that Emily had been there.
"JARVIS?"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Is Emily here?"
"No. She left approximately six hours ago after cleaning up from her dinner."
"Great." He clenched his fists and tapped them against his hips, trying to keep himself calm. He couldn't believe he'd done it – again.
"I believe she left a plate for you in the refrigerator." Steve crossed the apartment and pulled open the fridge. Placed on the top shelf was a saran wrapped plate with a folded piece of paper placed on top of it. He recognized Em's untidy handwriting.
Bourbon pecan chicken and Israeli couscous with apples, cranberries, and almonds. Enjoy.
When he opened the paper, it took everything in him not to punch something. It was a print out, and one line was highlighted – her book. Steve slammed the fridge shut and turned to lean against the kitchen island. "Fuck."
OOO
Emily frowned into her pillow and pulled the blanket higher against the winter chill, not quite sure what had woken her up.
And then she heard something rustling in the kitchen.
Heart in her throat, Em flung back the covers and reached for her cell phone. She dialed 911 as she crept over to her purse and pulled out her pepper spray, but didn't hit the send button. Her pink fuzzy socks muffled her footsteps, and the door thankfully didn't squeak as she pulled it open.
"Whoa!" Steve said, turning around from the refrigerator, milk carton in hand, to see Em with her pepper spray pointed at him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, lowering the canister and pressed the end button on her phone.
"I missed date night so I came over," he said, giving her a tentative smile.
"It's three in the morning," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm going back to bed."
"Emily, wait. I'm sorry."
"I'm tired, Steve. Let's just deal with this in the morning." Yawning, she turned to walk back into her room.
"Hey," Steve said, shoving the milk back into the fridge and hurrying out of the kitchen after her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. "Sweetheart, I'm really sorry about this."
"Tomorrow."
"Okay." After kissing her shoulder, Steve let her go. "I'll be right in."
"'K," Em mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She stumbled back into her room and left the door open for him. He, however, went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
As he was brushing his teeth, Steve noticed a purple box in the trashcan and a single word caught his eye – pregnancy. He felt his heart jump into his throat and spat out the toothpaste. "Doll?" She didn't answer. After putting his toothbrush away, Steve hurried to the bedroom. "Emily?"
"Hmmm?" she asked, not opening her eyes.
"Is there something I should know?" he asked, his voice slightly hopeful.
"Huh?"
"There's a…uh…test in the bathroom." He watched her carefully; her eyebrows furrowed as she rolled onto her back and rubbed her forehead.
"Don't worry 'bout it."
"You're…you're not…?"
"Nope."
"You sure?"
"Yup," she yawned. "Took the test a few days ago since I my period didn't come again, and we haven't exactly been careful."
"It's got nothing to do with your doctor's appointment tomorrow, does it?" After a moment, Emily opened her eyes and flipped back the covers for him before patting the bed.
"Nope. Just going for a check up."
"You'd tell me if something was wrong, though, right?" Steve asked as he slid into the bed.
"Yeah."
"It's just…you've been going to a lot of appointments recently…"
"The optometrist and dentist don't really count," she smirked, her eyes drifting shut again. Smiling, he put a hand on her hip and rolled her onto her side to face him. He slid his hand under her shirt and ran his thumb back and forth over her scar. She groaned, still uncomfortable with the attention he paid to the puckered wound.
"Congratulations." Em stayed quiet, but he could feel her tense slightly. "Number eight. That's impressive."
"Thanks." Steve shifted closer to her and kissed the tip of her nose and then cheek as his hand skated further upwards to cup her breast.
"Tired."
"Yeah?" He asked, brushing his thumb across her nipple.
"Yeah."
"Okay." His hand drifted back to her waist as he kissed her. "I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, babe."
"And I want to make it up to you for missing date night. How about you and I go for a nice dinner tomo – " He paused. "The day after tomorrow, and celebrate big."
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was actually going to make that one but she resisted and nodded, giving him a sleepy smile. "Now it's bed time. Night, mon coeur."
"Night, Sweetheart."
OOO
The breakfast Steve had made her that morning rolled in Emily's stomach as she jiggled her foot and attempted to read the magazine sitting in her lap.
"Emily Harthorn?" The nurse called, glancing down at her clipboard. Em stood quickly and gave her a tense smile before tossing the magazine back onto the coffee table. "How are you today?"
"Good, thanks. You?"
"Fine. If you'd just wait in here, Dr. Richardson will be with you momentarily." The nurse left Emily in the office and shut the door behind her. Her eyes darted around, looking at the degrees and artwork hanging on the walls. One section behind the glass desk was just pictures of babies and their parents – success stories.
The nerves were starting to build again when the door opened, and Dr. Richardson strolled in, chart in hand. "Hi Dr. Harthorn," the brunette smiled. "How are you today?"
"Nervous," Emily admitted.
"Well," Dr. Richardson said, taking the seat next to rather than behind the desk. "I won't keep you waiting on the results then. As you know, we checked to see if your fallopian tubes were blocked and, like I said then, they're clear. The blood sample we took, though, was to measure your anti-Müllerian hormone level to check your ovarian reserve. Now, I usually don't do this for women who aren't actively trying to get pregnant, but given your emergency unilateral oophorectomy, I understand why you wanted to do this."
"Thanks," she gave a tense smile before biting her lip.
"Alright, now," reproductive endocrinologist said, tapping the clipboard. "Your levels are lower than a woman your age normally, but that can be explained by having an ovary removed."
"Okay…?"
"A low AMH level means that your ovarian reserve is down. This means that it may be more difficult for you to get pregnant naturally. But –" she said quickly reaching over to put her hand on Em's knee, "not impossible."
"Oh."
"That being said, if you do have trouble getting pregnant after six months of trying, we can do some more tests and talk about other options."
"So I should start trying soon? Or start thinking about IVF?"
"No," Dr. Richardson said giving her a soft smile, "no, you still have time before worrying about it. I'm just trying to tell you that there are options."
"Okay."
OOO
Emily didn't talk to anyone about her doctor's appointment. It was made somewhat easier by Steve not being at home. Had he seen her, he would have known something was wrong right away. Instead, she dug into a tub of ice cream and took the time to think.
She'd always though that having kids would be easy. Yes, she'd known her mother had difficulties, but she didn't think she'd have those problems. There was always going to be time after she finished school, after she found a lecturing position, after she was successfully published…
The spoon stopped halfway to her mouth when she realized that she, Dr. Emily Rose Harthorn, had officially ticked all but one of the requirements necessary before thinking about having kids.
When, for god's sake, had she become an established adult? Em certainly didn't feel like an adult. Sure, there were bills in her name, and those horrible student loans to pay every months…she'd lived on her own about ten years… people actually trusted that what she was lecturing about was true…
But there was still the issue of making sure laundry was done. And a responsible adult would never eat peanut butter and jelly straight from the jar because they were too lazy to go to the store after the bread went bad.
Suddenly angry at being confronted with this massive life decision Emily stood up and began to pace through the apartment. "Fuck," she muttered, her voice half terror and half awe. Was she, at 27, really ready to have another human life dependent upon her?
And why was she even thinking about that? She and Steve hadn't met the last criteria she'd established before they even thought about having kids: they hadn't been married for a year. Hell, they hadn't even been dating for a year, not even half a year if you counted the their split.
As she passed through the living room for the seventh time, Emily looked over at the pamphlets that Dr. Richardson had given her and, after a moment, reached for them. Tears gathered in her eyes as she thumbed through Facing Infertility, so she tossed it aside and looked at Preserving Your Fertility.
Emotionally drained, Em collapsed back onto the couch and flung an arm over her head. She stared at the ceiling and lost track of time until she heard the key jingling in the door hours later. Startled, she sat up and snatched the pamphlets off of the coffee table. Without thinking, she shoved them into the couch just as Steve stepped inside.
"Hi," he grinned, lifting up a brown paper bag. "I brought over the dinner you made."
"Great," Em forced a smile as she stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Steve leaned down to peck her cheek before setting the bag on the counter. "You want to eat now?"
"Yeah, I'm starving."
OOO
Emily shifted and checked her phone again, trying to keep her face neutral. She could feel the waitress looking over at her again – that pitying look for someone who had been stood up.
It was one of the fanciest restaurants she'd been to, with dim lighting and twinkling chandlers. When Pepper had heard where they were going (and Em strongly suspected that she'd had a hand in getting them reservations) she'd raved about the food and atmosphere. Apparently Tony had rented out the entire place for her birthday one year, which spoke volumes about how good it was.
As the waitress walked towards her, a soft smile on her mouth, Emily took another gulp of her wine. "Ma'am, would you like to order, or are you still waiting?"
"I'll give him ten more minutes," Em said, attempting to muster up a smile. "He must have gotten caught up in work."
"Okay. Would you like another glass of wine?"
"Please."
Ten minutes and another glass of wine later, Steve was officially an hour late, and Emily was done waiting for him. After settling the bill for her drinks – with another pitying look, and an embarrassed flush on her cheeks – and retrieving her coat from the coat check, she walked out of the restaurant knowing that she'd never go there again. Em stepped outside and shuddered against the sharp blast of wind that lifted her dress and cut through her thick tights. It was threatening snow as she hurried to the train station, head bent and gloved hands shoved into her coat pockets. The first tear had slipped down her cheek when she heard him.
"Emily? Damn it, Emily, wait!" she turned around at the heavy footsteps behind her and saw Carter jogging towards her. "Em," he said softly when he saw how upset she was. Quickly, she reached up to brush away the tear and straightened her shoulders.
"What are you doing here? Did Steve send you?" It was hard to tell if it was a blush or wind burn that made his cheeks red, but the pause was very telling. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
"He got called away at the last minute," Carter sighed. "I – "
"'At the last minute'?" Em snapped. "I've been waiting for almost an hour!" He flinched and reached out to touch her shoulder but she jerked away.
"Emily, he's really s – "
"Don't apologize for him!" Another icy blast whipped down the road, and Carter took a step towards her and placed a hand on her elbow.
"Come on, let's go inside and – "
"I'm not going back in there."
"Fine, let's go somewhere else and get out of the cold."
"I just want to go home."
"Please? For my sake?"
"No, Carter, not tonight."
"Alright," he sighed, his shoulders sagging. "At least let me give you a ride."
OOO
"I said I wanted to go home," Emily huffed as they went further into Manhattan.
"I'll take you home, don't worry," Carter said, reaching over to pat her hand. "I just wanted to show you the progress they've made on my flat."
"Can't it wait?"
"It won't take long, love," he assured her, and then smirked when she rolled her eyes.
They parked in the underground garage after being finger printed and took the elevator up to the penthouse. When they stepped out into the living room, Emily had half expected the lights to turn on, as she was so used to JARVIS doing that at Steve's place.
"Sorry, don't have the electricity turned on yet," Carter apologized, holding up his cell phone. "There are torches around here somewhere."
"It's fine," Emily shrugged, pulling off her gloves as she walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Even this far up, the light from the city spilled into the apartment, illuminating the empty room. "Where's all of your stuff?"
"What I could salvage," Carter said, picking up a wrench from the kitchen countertop and flipping it in his hand, "is put into storage. The estate wants to hire an interior decorator and…"
"Really?" Em chuckled, turning away from the window. "An interior decorator?"
"It'll help with the resale value apparently."
"Are you selling?"
"Eventually," he shrugged, setting the wrench back down. "It doesn't make sense to keep the flat if I'm going to be spending most of my time at the manor."
"How's he doing?"
"He's…doing alright. Talking to Steve boosted his spirits but…He's still…"
"I know," Em said. "But he's your grandpa."
"Ha," he gave a sarcastic chuckle. "You had a 'grandpa'. I have a grandfather. It's all, 'Uphold the family name' and 'You're a Falsworth, it's time to act like it' and – this isn't why I brought you here."
"It's easier dealing with someone else's' problems." Carter smirked and walked over to join her, sliding an arm across her shoulders. Em leaned against him, wrapping an arm around his waist. They were quiet for a moment before he sighed.
"He is sorry, you know."
"Please don't."
"It's not personal, darling, it's work. He – "
"Doesn't need you to make his excuses for him," Emily cut him off. "And I know that he's busy with work but…I don't think a phone call is too much to ask for. I mean, it's one thing for him to stand me up when we're just going to hang out at home, but god, it's so embarrassing being stood up in public! All it took was him picking up the phone, and I would have gone back to the apartment and that would have been the end of it."
"I know," Carter said, pressing a kiss into her hair.
"And I feel like such a hypocrite complaining about him being at work all the time because I encouraged him to go back to S.H.I.E.L.D., and now I just sound like a needy girlfriend whose throwing a temper tantrum about her boyfriend not paying attention to her." Carter stayed quiet, knowing that she needed to vent rather than hear reassurances and, after a minute, she kept talking.
"I mean, I thought I could handle it, the whole 'dating a superhero' thing. I thought it wouldn't be that different from dating someone in the military. But I always knew when Garrett was leaving and when he'd be back. Steve…he's gone at the drop of a hat and who knows when he's coming home. Or what state he's going to be in, mentally and physically."
"And tonight," she gasped, trying to fight back a sob as she pulled away from Carter. "Tonight I just wanted to celebrate with my boyfriend. I mean, I know in the grand scheme of things," Emily said, her voice brittle as she swiped at the tears gathering in her eyes, "that it's not a big deal – it's not saving the world. But it's a big deal to me."
"I know that, darling," Carter said softly. "It's a huge accomplishment, and I'm proud of you."
"I just…I just wish he'd make me a priority. But then I think that's selfish because he is literally saving the world while he's away and – "
"You're not being selfish," he cut her off. "You should be a priority." Carter pulled her back towards him and enveloping her in a hug. "Emily, your book – it's huge. And I know that Steve wanted to celebrate with you; he's been bragging about you to the team."
"Team?"
"I can't tell you about that," he sighed. "But what you need to know is that Steve wouldn't be doing this if it weren't imperative."
"I know, it's just…I don't know anymore, Cart."
"Yes you do, Emily," he sighed, pressing a kiss into her hair. "And I'm saying this as someone who loves you dearly: you're being a bit stupid." Em pulled away from him but he kept a tight hold on her. "Now hear me out before you get angry, alright? We are not dating, but you come and speak to me about your problems instead of the guy you actually are seeing."
"Excuse me?"
"When something goes wrong, you don't feel like you can talk to Steve about it, so you turn to me. And I'm very happy to talk you through it, but I'm not who you should be leaning on. You and Steve plan on getting married some day, right?"
"Yeah…"
"If you ever expect to get to that point, you need to start talking to him or it's going to end badly."
"You're right," Emily said after a moment. "Sorry about putting you in the middle of everything."
"It's alright. Now," he said, letting her go and clapping his hands together. "Shall I give you the grand tour?"
"Of course," she smiled.
OOO
Steve hovered in the doorway, watching as Emily danced with her partner, wincing slightly when he stepped on her toes. While he couldn't hear it over the music, he knew that Em was assuring the man that it was alright – she did it every time Steve stepped on her toes.
When the song came to an end, the instructor clapped her hands to get the class's attention. "That was wonderful! I just wanted to say that I hope you have a wonderful holiday, and I'll see you in the New Year." Everyone clapped for a moment before talking erupted as the students gathered their things.
Emily's cheeks were flushed as she laughed with her dance partner, placing her hand on his arm as they stood off to the side. She was wearing that green dress that he liked, and her hair was pulled back from her face. After being away for five days, Emily was a sight for sore eyes.
"-Going to do fine," she said as she walked towards the door. "You're fiancée is going to love it, believe me."
"I hope so," the man smirked. "Have a good Christmas, Em."
"You too, Blake. See you in January." As they drew closer, Steve caught Blake's eye and gave a slight nod before pushing off of the doorframe. Blake returned it before smiling at Emily and making his exit.
"Hi," Steve smiled.
"You're back," she said, draping her coat over her arm and pulling it tight against her chest. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers briefly.
"Just finished debriefing. Listen, I'm really sorry about Satu –"
"I'd rather not talk about that here," she cut him off.
"Okay. Want to go grab something for dinner?"
"I ate before class."
"Oh," Steve said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Alright." Em shifted and moved to put on her coat. "Here, let me," he said quickly, taking it from her and holding it out.
"Thanks." They didn't really say anything as they walked out of the dance studio, and after Em had put on her gloves, Steve took her hand and kissed it.
"I missed you."
"I missed you, too. Everything go okay?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
The awkwardness continued as rode the train back to her apartment, and when they stopped at the deli so Steve could get dinner. Once they were back at her place, Em left him sitting on one of the bar stools while she went to her room and slipped off her heels and thick tights. He'd inhaled the sandwich by the time she got back, which made her raise an eyebrow.
Once he'd wiped his mouth and tossed the napkin onto the sandwich wrapping, Steve turned to face her as she walked past him to settle on the couch, pulling her feet under her dress as she reached for the remote. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"
Emily rested her elbow on the armrest and buried her hand in her hair, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah, a bit."
After her talk with Carter, Emily had been ready to talk to Steve about what had really been bothering her. But when he hadn't come back on Tuesday, she'd tried to get in touch with S.H.I.E.L.D. but the operator wouldn't tell her anything, or even acknowledge that they worked for the organization. Carter hadn't been able to find anything out either. Fast forward to Thursday, and she was more than upset.
"More than a bit," he countered. "You're really mad."
"Actually, I'm edging towards pissed."
"That bad, huh?" he asked, pushing off of the chair and joining her on the couch.
"Well, you stood me up three times. And by the way, sending Carter in your place doesn't make it any better."
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," Steve sighed. "I...It's just that with S.H.I.E.L.D. – "
"I understand that, I really do, but I don't think picking up the phone to let me know that you can't make it," she held up a finger, "before you're an hour late is too much to ask for. I want… I want to be a priority, Steve, not an afterthought."
"You are a priority, Emily. You're my first priority."
She scoffed and muttered under her breath, "Sure as hell feels like it."
"Emily," he said, his voice weary. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say."
"Never mind, Steve. Just forget about it." She stood up and walked to the kitchen, pausing to crumple up his sandwich wrapper and tossed it in the trash. Em got a glass of water, and when she turned around, Steve was right there; jumping, she said, "Jesus Christ."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Apology accepted, okay? Just don't do it again, and we'll be fine."
"You're lying."
Emily looked up at the ceiling, trying to ward off the tears gathering in her eyes. "Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be stood up? In that type of restaurant?"
Steve flushed, easily able to picture it. A few times Bucky had set him up on a double date, he'd ended up being the third wheel when his date had 'gotten sick' or 'had to take care of her mother/sister/brother'. "I'm so sorry, Sweethe – "
"And to send Carter? Like him being there would make it all better? Jesus, Steve, he's not your stand in."
"I know that. And believe me, Emily, I wanted to be there, but I had to go on that mission. I have to know that you're safe when I'm not here, and you're safe with an age - " He quickly cut himself off.
"With a what?"
"With Carter."
"You were going to say 'agent', weren't you?" Steve didn't say anything, which made Emily frown. "Carter's not with me all the time." And then something clicked in her head. "You have got to be FUCKING kidding me! You better not be saying what I think you're saying."
"It's for your safety, Emily." She slammed her glass down onto the counter and shoved him. He had the decency to take a step backwards.
"You've got someone following me?!"
"I have to make sure – "
"How could you do that?" she demanded. "How could you invade my privacy like that?"
He pressed his lips together as though he was trying not to say something, and she could see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to phrase something. "There's…right now, I'm…" he opened his mouth before closing it again and running a hand over his face. "There's some things I can't tell you, but you have to know that everything I'm doing is for the best."
"Peu importe," she huffed. "I'm going to go to bed. You should leave."
"I'm not leaving."
"Fine. I hope the couch is comfortable."
"Really? That's how you want to leave this?"
"If we keep going, I'm going to say something I'll regret and it's going to get worse, so yes, this is where I want to stop for now."
"Fine."
"Fine." Emily stepped around him and stormed to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
"Fuck," Steve spat, slapping the palm of his hand on the counter. Defeated, he hung his head and pushed himself up, walking over to the couch. With his leg, he pushed the coffee table out of the way, careful not to knock it into the Christmas tree. He was pulling off the cushions when Emily walked back out of her room, pointedly not looking at him, and retrieved her water. "What are these?"
Em turned around and felt the blood drain from her face. Steve was holding up the pamphlets from Dr. Richardson. "N-nothing, they're nothing."
"They're not nothing," Steve said, voice sharp as he held up Facing Infertility. When she flinched, his shoulders dropped, "Emily…" He took a step towards her, and she shook her head and held up a hand.
"Tomorrow."
"No. Talk to me now." When she shook her head and tried to make a beeline for her room, Steve let the papers fall to the floor and went after her, sticking his foot between the door and the frame when Em tried to shut it. He pushed it open and stood in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I can't Steve!"
"Can't what?"
"I can't talk to you about this, not now."
"When? At least tell me when you went to the doctors and got those."
"Last week," she said softly, and Steve spun on his heel, burying his hands in his hair.
"Last week? You've known for a week and you didn't say anything?"
"When were you here?!" Em snapped, slamming the glass down on her nightstand.
"Thursday. You had to have found out on Thursday, and I was here then."
"I couldn't…I couldn't talk about it then. I don't want to talk about it now!"
"Tough," Steve said. "We're talking about it."
"You don't get it, do you?!"
"No, Emily, I don't because you don't talk to me about this stuff! You don't tell me about your nightmares, you don't tell me about what's bothering you, and now this?"
"I can't!"
"Yes y – "
"No! I can't! Because you've got so much on your shoulders already that I can't put one more thing on them! Because you come home so upset about whatever it is you're doing that I don't feel like I can tell you what's going on with me!"
"Sweeth – " Steve took a step towards her, but Emily stepped back.
"Don't."
"Em – "
"Don't."
Scowling, he moved towards her, Emily retreating the entire time, until she was backed against the closet door and he put a hand on either side of her head. Tears were falling freely as she ducked her head, arms crossed over her chest, trying to avoid his gaze. "Would you just look at me, please?" When she didn't, Steve tipped her chin up, and growled in frustration when her eyes slid to the side. "Doll…" He wiped away her tears with his thumb, and gave her a soft smile when her eyes flitted to meet his briefly before she looked away.
"Listen to me: regardless of what happened while I was on a mission, I need to hear what's going on with you. Okay?" Em still didn't say anything, but she pressed her lips together and wiped her face. "I love you, Emily."
"You're having me followed?" Steve sighed and buried his face in the curve of her neck, brushing his lips against her throat.
"I need you to be safe."
"You're invading my privacy." Em shifted away from him and shook her head. "You know how much I hated it before."
"I know," Steve sighed. "I just…" He looked like he was debating himself before he let out a heavy breath. "It's HYDRA. That's why I've been gone so much, and why I'm going crazy about protecting you."
"HYDRA ended after World War II."
"They didn't," he countered. "They're getting more active, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helping me shut them down." Emily met his gaze and Steve shook his head before tentatively moving his hands to her hips. "I made a promise that I wasn't gonna stop until they were all dead or captured, and I'm trying to keep that promise now. But I have to know that you're going to be alright."
"I'm safe."
Steve shook his head again and let out a frustrated huff. "HYDRA killed Bucky and Erskine; they're not going to get to you."
"Why would they come after me? I'm a nobody." The corner of his mouth turned downwards.
"You're the expert on Captain America, for one. They might think that you know something." Em cocked her eyebrow. "And because they know who I am," he said. "They know that I'm Captain America, and I don't want them to use you to get to me."
"How do they know you're you?"
"I didn't exactly keep myself a secret with the USO," he smirked.
"Right," Em said quietly. "Institutional memory."
"I thought you were supposed to be the expert," Steve teased, succeeding in getting her lip to twitch into a small smile.
"So it's HYDRA? That's why you're away all the time?"
"That's it." Steve leaned down and kissed her, tasting the saltiness of her tears. "Now it's your turn: why'd you go to the doctor?" Em immediately pulled away and dropped her eyes to his chest.
"Steve…"
"No, Emily, I need to know." Em sighed and put her hands on his chest, pushing slightly against him.
"I need you to be away from me when I tell you." Steve raised an eyebrow but took a step backwards. "No, further."
"Alright," he said slowly, walking further away until she nodded when he was across the bedroom. This, he knew, wasn't a good sign; Emily had a thing about needing distance when she had bad news, needed to not be touched when she delivered it.
"Could you…would you turn around?"
"Sweetheart."
"Please?"
"Fine," Steve sighed, turning to face the wall. "Now what happened?"
"I went last Monday because I needed to know why I wasn't having my period yet," Em said, a blush flooding her cheeks. "I was getting worried that…that it was worse than Dr. Nadar said it would be. So I went to a fertility specialist who…" she paused when Steve raised an arm and braced himself against the wall. "She did a procedure to check that my fallopian tubes weren't blocked, and they're not, so that's good news. But she said she could do this test to – to see how many eggs I had left and give me a rough estimate of how long I have to conceive naturally."
"Okay," Steve said.
"I went back on Thursday for the results and – " Emily chocked back a sob, but when Steve moved as if to turned around, she shouted, "No, please! Don't."
"Emily," he groaned.
After a deep breath, she continued. "It-it wasn't the news I'd hoped for. Apparently I have 'a little time' left b-before I'll have to c-consider IVF or…" She shook her head, "but not much."
"Honey," Steve said, feeling slightly foolish that he was addressing the wall. When he looked over his shoulder, Em had her face in her hands. "Why didn't you say something?"
"Be-because," she said, lifting her head. "Please?" With a huff, he turned to face the wall again. Her next words came out in a rush. "Because you really want kids and now I don't know if I can have them, and I don't want them right now, and I didn't want you to get mad about that and leave."
He stood in stunned silence for a moment as Em sniffled before whipping around and striding over to her. She held out a hand to stop him from touching her, but he brushed it aside and pulled her into his arms. "You are so stupid sometimes, you know that?" he said, exasperation saturating his voice. Em kept pushing against him, but Steve leaned down and captured her lips before peppering her face with kisses. "Listen to me. Hey!" When she didn't meet his gaze, he cupper her face and forced her to. "I don't care, alright? If we don't have kids, we don't have kids. As long as I've got you, I'm going to be happy."
"You say that now, but in a few years…"
"In a few years, if we decide we want them, we'll go talk to your doctors, okay? And if that doesn't work, we'll adopt. Hell, your brother can walk us through the process and we can get a kid out of the orphanage."
"But – "
"But nothing. I love you, Emily Rose. I'm not going to let you push me away because of this. Got it?" he asked, using his Captain America tone.
"You're sure? Because I'd under – "
"I'm not going anywhere. Now get that through your thick skull, Sweetheart," he said, tempering his harsh words with a smile. After brushing away her tears with his thumbs, Steve leaned down and kissed her again before working his way down her neck as his hands slid down her sides. Em clutched at his shoulders, taking shaky breaths as she tried to get her emotions back under control.
"Love you," she said softly, running her hand across his jaw line.
"Love you too. Now," he smirked. "Do I really have to sleep on the couch?"
Author's Note: Hey guys, so sorry about the lapse of time between updates. My personal, professional, and academic life collided in a cluster f**k that made writing impossible. Also, would like to give a special thanks to pizzagirl and blown-transistor for being sounding boards for this one, and keeping me sane these last few weeks. And Abby! I don't know your FF screen name, but you've been an awesome cheerleader on Tumblr!
With the chapter not a ton to say. Blake, Em's dance partner? Definitely a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. And I'm sorry if it seemed like Steve was mostly in the wrong, I tried to balance it with Em keeping secrets.
As always, thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!