After

Chapter 11

In the end, it was Natasha's call to Assemble for what Tony had deemed "Operation Crowning Achievement." Wanda snorted when he had announced the name with a flourish. She made a pointed comment about how it would be Laura, not any of them, doing all the work. Steve had only muttered something about the name's crudeness before leaving the room. Pietro followed after him, inquiring about the significance of the name. "Well, ahhh ... " Steve stuttered, an unfamiliar red rising to his cheeks, "uh, when the, well, the head of the baby ... uh, comes out of, well, out of the mother's ..." Steve's voice trailed off as he left the room, Pietro with him.

The plan itself was simple. Upon getting the call at the first sign of labor, Pietro and Wanda would head directly to the Barton farm to handle Cooper and Lila. This was Phase 1. Subduing the older Barton children, excited that both Aunt Wanda and Uncle Quickie were visiting and that their little brother would finally be making an appearance, proved to be nearly too much for the super-powered twins. Apparently the Barton kids were diabolically strategic when they joined forces. Cooper distracted and Lila pounced, and the ensuing giggles would ensure they never got in trouble.

Phase 2 had Steve and Tony awaiting the go-ahead from Natasha when active labor was confirmed. At which point, they and an adamant Pepper - who refused to be left behind again - would go directly to the hospital until the staff allowed them in. Keeping Tony occupied and calm during the hours between Phase 1 and Phase 2 had not been thought necessary. They had been mistaken.

Tony's pacing across the living room of Avengers' Tower and Steve's continued and near-constant litany of "Tony. Tony. Calm down, Tony. Sit down, Tony. Tony, stop pacing" had worn on Pepper's nerves so badly that at Steve's tenth iteration of "you'll wear a hole in the floor", she finally stood, snatched Tony's phone out of his furiously texting hands, and strode out of the room, informing Natasha that she, and not Tony, would be main point of contact moving forward.

Natasha's texted response was a quick, "Oh, thank God."

It was not the quick and uncomplicated labor and delivery that they were hoping for. Once Tony, Steve and Pepper had been called in, there were still several hours of waiting to be had. Natasha, with Laura on the other side of the double swinging doors that separated the waiting room from the delivery ward, gave regular updates of progress, of frightening dips in fetal heart rates, and of something called nuchal cords that had Tony, Steve and Pepper pacing the floor in agitation.

At least once, Steve had to physically restrain Tony from calling his OBGYN contact in NYC. "Steve, I gotta know," Tony said. "This is Clint's wife. His baby boy. I gotta know what this stuff means."

Pepper gripped Tony's arm, eyes pleading for more information as well. "Tony's right, Steve. Clint was close. Laura's close now, too."

Steve put his hand up to stop the discussion. "You think I don't get that? I'm concerned, too. Laura and the kids are family. But we have no power here." Tony grunted in response, but Steve continued. "We know nothing about this."

"Exactly!" Tony and Pepper said together.

Steve nodded again. "But the person who does, whose decision it is - Laura - is calling the shots on this. We've already had this discussion, and you know it."

"Steve, c'mon!" Tony persisted. "We have to figure out what's going on. We can help."

"Laura will tell us how we can help," Steve said, raising his voice.

Tony threw his hands up, made a half turn, and then stepped back up, sharp, panicked brown eyes glaring upwards into strong, firm, blue. "Damn you, Rogers. I won't lose another Barton because ..." Tony spat.

Steve's arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed at the implication Tony was making. "Because what? Because I respect Laura's wishes?" Steve shot back, eyes flashing. Tony snorted and Pepper moved in between the two men, hands on Tony's chest as she tried to guide him back.

A firm authoritarian voice carried through the otherwise empty waiting room. "We won't lose another Barton," Nick Fury said, striding through the doors from the delivery ward. "At least not today."

"How'd you ..." Stark stuttered as Fury approached dressed in a pair of canary yellow scrubs complete with paper gown and little pink booties. His hands swung by his side.

Steve took a step back and titled his head at not only Fury's sudden appearance but the blatant change from his usual wardrobe. "That's a good look for you, Fury."

Fury raised an eyebrow and half-smiled, but otherwise ignored the comment. "There's something the two of you need to understand and it's very simple." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Your egos mean nothing here. This is about that woman," he pointed over his shoulder to the double doors he had just come through, "who is doing her damndest to bring her child into this world."

Rogers looked down as Fury continued, but Tony stepped up to meet Fury's gaze. "That's what we're trying to help her do and if they would let us back there ..."

Fury leveled a withering look with his one eye. "You would only get in the way," Fury said, finishing Tony's sentence. "Which would distract Laura and cause her more stress than she already has. No one wants to watch Natasha take you down and carry you both out of here, at least not right now. So you," he jabbed a finger into Tony's chest, "sit down and let the people who actually know what they're doing take care of Laura. You think that with her contacts we don't already have the best of the best back there?"

"Her contacts?" Tony asked, taken aback and confusion on his face.

Fury titled his head in disbelief. "Yeah, Stark. Her contacts. You think she just appeared out of thin air? That she had no identity outside of being Barton's wife and mother of his children?"

Tony and Steve exchanged surprised and embarrassed looks. Pepper hid an amused smile behind her hand. Tony looked at her. "You knew that? How did you know that?"

Pepper smiled openly. "I asked her."

"Hawkeye wasn't the only one in the Barton family who liked to keep secrets." Fury continued. "That woman is one of the finest forensic psychologists we've ever had on the payroll. Did you think she stayed married to Barton for so damn long without psychological training?"

"Well, I thought ..." Tony started, but Fury cut him off, already rounding on Steve.

"And you, Cap," Fury's rant continued. "Stop riling him up! Laura doesn't need a knight in shining armor. She needs to focus on herself and not have to worry about you two acting like junior high kids. We can hear you screaming at each other from down the hall."

Steve's jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Tony followed Pepper back to an uncomfortable chair and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. Fury looked expectantly at Steve, who also sat obediently in the closest chair. Fury spun in his yellow scrubs and paper gown - with pink booties - and strode through the doors, sighing and shaking his head. He muttered something about "super egos," "annoying the shit out of me, " and "maybe I should let Romanoff ..." before the doors swung shut behind him.

Ten minutes passed in silence as the hospital staff, stunned into watching the entire proceedings, resumed their previous activities while keeping a wary eye on the two overly muscled men sitting two seats away from each other in the first row of the light blue chairs.

Tony took a deep breath into the quiet. "I still think ..."

Rogers sighed and dropped his head into his hands before shooting Pepper a pleading look. "Tony," Pepper admonished lightly, smoothing the hair on the back of his head. "Just don't."

Tony looked at her, a sour expression on his face, before taking her hand. "You're right, Pep. You're right." Steve sighed in relief and joined in Tony's vigil of staring pensively at the double delivery ward doors. Together, they waited.

It was Fury who strode through the doors 90 minutes later. The paper gown was gone, but the yellow scrubs remained. His smile was wide and beaming and Steve marveled at how natural it looked on him. Steve shot to his feet at the sight of him and Tony nudged Pepper, who was dozing against his shoulder.

"Nathaniel Clinton Barton. Nine pounds, ten ounces, twenty-one inches. Laura is doing well. There were some complications during delivery, but Little Nate is doing well now. Laura's cleaned up and Nate's had his first feeding." Fury smirked. "Laura's asking for you guys."

They clustered together as they followed Fury through the swinging doors, taking several turns down the hallway, grim-faced suited SHIELD agents stationed at every corner. They reached a private suite at the far end of the hall. They opened the door and blinked at the sight.

Laura, exhausted but smiling softly, watched as Natasha held Nathaniel in her arms, rocking him back and forth and singing a quiet Russian lullaby. The newborn was swaddled head-to-toe in a white blanket, his face scrunched up in sleep. Some fuzzy straw-colored hair peaked out from under the small lilac beanie on the top of his tiny head. His mouth was pursed into a tiny rosebud as his tongue worked in his sleep. Natasha looked up at Steve's quiet gasp, smiling and walking over to them. "Nate," Laura said sleepily from the bed, "meet your Uncles Steve and Tony and your Aunt Pepper." Steve took a small step forward and reached out to touch the newborn, hesitating when his hand reached halfway. He looked between Laura and Natasha questioningly. Natasha smiled, reaching out to Steve with one hand to move his massive arms into the appropriate position. She then deposited to newborn into the cradle of his biceps and forearms.

Steve stood rigid as the baby opened and closed his lips in response, but otherwise didn't move. Steve shot a panicked looked at Fury, who laughed. "Relax, Rogers," Natasha said. "He doesn't bite."

"At least not yet," Laura said whimsically.

Steve's huge form looked both ridiculous and terrified as he peered down into the face of Clint and Laura's son. The newborn was smaller than Steve's forearm and Steve held him like he might shatter in his arms. He felt Tony and Pepper come up beside him, peering into the child's scrunched up face. Pepper cooed at the boy, and Tony tentatively brushed his finger across the baby's cheek. Steve searched the boy's face. Under the pink pudginess, he recognized the square bone structure, the jaw line, and the nose.

"He looks like Clint," Tony breathed.

Steve's brow furrowed at the fantastically bittersweet moment, staring into the face of Clint's son. It was a privilege that Clint himself would never get. Steve swelled with pride and at the same time felt like he had been punched in the gut. His met eyes with Tony, and between them they knew. Clint's children would remind them what they were meant to do.

Clint's absence would be the reason they would stay together.

TBC