You hate hospitals.
You're made to stay for two weeks; lounging in your own bed with Theo sounds much more appealing but Maria won't leave you alone with him while your ribs are healing.
You know she's angry at you; she's grateful you're alive and hoping your child won't learn to be so stubborn.
You're released to the Tower only because of JARVIS and you are met with a round of hooray's and gentle hugs.
You smile politely; May calls you brave, Tony calls you stupid, Bruce is just glad you're alive and Thor is too busy wiggling a finger on Theo's belly.
Your chest stings; Skye calls you friend, Steve calls you family, Coulson calls you daughter, Clint calls you his best friend.
You break down the moment you are alone; Maria calls you the love of her life and Theo's mama and you're in tears and begging for forgiveness.
She holds you while you cry; your ribs sting but they're not on fire.
You spend your first day of unofficial freedom is spent lazying around with your wife in bed; the village downstairs watching your son.
When she drags you into the shower she examines you; your ribs are still coloured darkly and a there are healed scratch marks across your back.
You feel her smirk against your lips under the hot spray.
You end up cuddling on the couch and falling asleep; there's the smell of food in the kitchen that wakes you.
And the hungry baby crying for a bottle.
One is thrust into your hand and you swing yourself from side to side gently outside the kitchen; you smile as he sucks greedily and promptly falls asleep.
You're Natasha Hill and you're not sure where the time has gone; you used to be nervous but now you revel in the normalcy of married life and parenthood.
You mutter something about his sleeping habits; your wife hits you with a tea towel for noting the similarity.
You wink.
She laughs.
You kiss her.
She kisses you back.
You're happy.
