Chapter 8: We Got This

Nick's invitations for Fourth of July went out almost at the exact same time as the first picture of Bruce's baby. He apologized to all the Avengers for not telling them anything until it was over, explained that he'd narrowly avoided a panic attack and couldn't leave Betty's side. None of them cared about the delay, they were too busy commenting on how adorable the baby was. Nick wished he could see it. All newborns pretty much looked the same, so he had a general idea of what it looked like, but he still felt left out. He forwarded the picture to Dawn and asked her to describe it for him.

"It's a baby. It's got eyes, ears, a nose, and a mouth," was her reply.

"Very helpful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. But seriously, I'm not sure what to else to say. He's swaddled in a light green blanket. I think he's asleep. Looks healthy to me."

Nick adjusted his mental image of the baby to include the green blanket. "That's good enough. Thanks."

"Any time."

Not long after he put his phone down from that conversation, it buzzed with another notification. Nick opened the message. It was from Bruce. "I just realized that picture probably means nothing to you. Here's a video of Betty talking to him; you can hear some baby noises."

Nick immediately hit play. Sure enough, he heard Betty's voice telling Lanyon how much she loved him. He could also hear the baby breathing and making the occasional grunt or squealing sound. The video did more than Dawn's description ever could.

"Thank you so much for thinking of me."

"You're welcome."

Nick's heart soared. He couldn't wait to meet this baby in person so he could feel its soft skin, and maybe get him to wrap a tiny hand around his finger. Even after a month, he still hadn't held Carol May. The Weavers sent plenty of pictures, but they hadn't invited anybody over and Nick didn't want to be so forward as to invite himself. He knew he'd get to meet her eventually. Nick already had a plan for all his Avengers nieces and nephews: he would be the reason they learned the word motherfucker. If their parents questioned him, he could always say that he didn't see the kid was close enough to hear him say it. Kids were sneaky like that.

~0~

Betty did almost as much taking care of Bruce as she did taking care of Lanyon. Naturally, that created a steaming ball of guilt that sat heavily in his stomach, but he couldn't do anything about it. Without Betty's reassurance, that fear that had overtaken him at the hospital resurged with a vengeance. Bruce constantly worried that his paternal instincts had been destroyed by years of abuse, and that by parenting this baby he'd only perpetuate the cycle.

He was overly gentle whenever he handled his son, and always talked to him whenever he did anything. Every diaper change, every bottle feeding, every burping, he discussed so as not to accidentally scare him with sudden touch. Betty had to gently coax him to hit a little harder to actually make his burping technique effective; Bruce was so terrified of hurting him that he barely tapped his back.

After only a few days home, she bought him a book on parenting that he then spent all his free time reading. Most of the chapters dealt with things that he wouldn't confront for years. Dealing with picky eating, handling school and separation anxiety, how to give the talk. Bruce read them all anyway. He wondered if Parker had been this petrified to start raising his daughter, but he knew better than to ask. The answer was probably no. Parker was way more confident with this sort of thing than Bruce was. Fleetingly, he wondered if Lanyon and Carol May would get along, and how it would be partially his fault if they didn't.

Bruce took a full two weeks off work to help Betty with Lanyon; her maternity leave would last a while longer. They had a somewhat unusual arrangement planned for when she eventually returned to work. Lanyon would spend his days with Parker. MJ would go back to work about a month before Betty, giving him plenty of time to adjust to parenting alone during the day. Parker was actually the one who suggested it over a FaceTime call with Bruce during a rare hour when both their babies were asleep.

"You know, I'd be happy to babysit whenever you need," he said. "I know Betty really values her work, so if you're worried about childcare, our place is always open."

"Parker, you can't be serious," Bruce replied. The offer was so generous and so unexpected that he hardly knew what to think. "You'd double your responsibilities just to help us out?"

"Sure, why not? What's one more baby?"

"A lot, actually."

"I can handle it. And it'll be fun. Carol May and Lanyon will grow up being close like siblings. As a fellow only child, I'm sure you can relate to wanting to have someone your own age around the house."

"Yeah, I guess so." Bruce used to be grateful that he didn't have siblings, because he knew he'd either be throwing himself between them and Dad or feeling guilty that they took the beatings instead. Something in his expression must've suggested his dark thought, because Parker immediately changed the subject.

"I can bribe Tony into helping out some once he's recovered."

"You really think he'd do that?"

"If being the favorite uncle was at stake? Absolutely," he remarked with a grin.

With Parker, Tony, and Betty all raising Lanyon in conjunction with Bruce, any negative influence he had could be mostly canceled out. Bruce was elated. "Parker, you are the best. Thank you so much. I'll have to talk to Betty about it, but I'm sure she'll be just as grateful as I am."

"Yeah, of course. So, how's fatherhood treating you? I can already tell you wear it well."

"Thanks. Everything about it is terrifying but I don't think I've messed up too badly yet." There was that one time he made the bottle too hot, but Lanyon seemed to have forgiven him.

"I'm sure you're doing great. You have a PhD in biochemistry, parenthood should be easy-peasy compared to that."

"I wouldn't say that. It's a very different kind of brainpower. Much more emotional than biochem."

"I see. And I imagine Lanyon tends to cry a bit more than your average amino acid."

Bruce chuckled. "Yeah, a bit. Even when I know it's something fixable, hearing him cry is the worst thing in the world."

"Yeah, I can relate. I am not looking forward to eventually encouraging self-soothing, but MJ's adamant that we don't answer every cry forever."

The parenting book had at least half a chapter devoted to this. "Yeah, I don't think it will be easy."

"But we got this, right? The first Avengers to become dads, we gotta set a good example."

"Yeah. We got this." This time, Bruce actually started to believe it.

~0~

Bucky brought Alpine home on a Tuesday, and by Monday he was back at soccer. He wanted to make sure Alpine adjusted well to his new home before leaving for several hours at a time, but even with the cat for company, spending that much uninterrupted time in that house grated on his nerves.

He warned Lamberg, "I'm hopelessly out of shape. It's gonna take me a while to get back."

To which Lamberg had replied, "Take all the time you need. We're happy to have you back."

Josiah picked him up Monday morning at their usual time and the most awkward car ride of Bucky's entire life ensued. It was like Josiah had no idea what to talk about. Bucky understood that this was a weird and unfamiliar situation, but he would've appreciated if his friend at least made an attempt at normalcy. That was the whole reason he went back to work: a distraction from the shitshow that was the past two months. Josiah's silence only reminded him of the reason for his long absence.

And it wasn't just Josiah. The rest of the team greeted him with uncertain smiles on their faces. Nobody seemed that excited. Bucky understood why they were afraid. He'd been gone because he was taking care of Steve, and the only reason he was back was because Steve was dead. They didn't want their excitement over his return to be confused for excitement that Steve was gone. Bucky probably would have done the same were he in their shoes.

His teammates who had lost their limbs to cancer seemed to have the best grasp on how to handle the situation. Bucky figured they'd probably made and lost friends while in treatment, much like he had. When Lamberg blew the whistle, he quickly fell back into the routine of warm-up and their usual drills. As he expected, his strength and endurance weren't quite what they were before his leave, but not as bad as he feared they might be. Certainly not as much of a downgrade as before and after treatment.

In fact, being back on the field made him feel the best he had since it happened. With his brain and body busy, he didn't think so much about Steve. It also helped that he'd always done soccer independently. Steve rarely set foot in the facility, so Bucky being here without him was no different than before. But the distraction couldn't last forever.

By the end of practice, Bucky's limbs ached and his chest heaved. The sheen of sweat over his entire body was a well-earned one. "How was your first day back?" Josiah asked him in the locker room.

"Great."

"Happy to hear it."

"I missed exercising."

"I can imagine."

The car ride home was significantly less awkward than the way there. Josiah and Bucky spent it jokingly talking trash about their teammates—mostly Walker, as usual—and Bucky found himself smiling more than he thought possible. And then he arrived home. He used to come home to a house smelling like dinner. Today, the only thing there to greet him was Alpine.

The cat slinked into the entryway when he heard the front door open and rubbed himself against Bucky's leg. "Hey there. Did you have a good day?" Bucky asked, crouching down to pet him. "You didn't get into any trouble, did you?"

It was nice to have something alive to greet him, but it was a far cry from the glorious scent of Steve's cooking and a loving kiss after spending so many hours apart. Bucky stopped himself from glancing longingly behind the stove and instead headed straight to the shower. He still had ample supply of leftovers in the freezer, so at least he didn't have to muster the energy to cook. Now that the day's work finally caught up to him, he was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. If every day took this much out of him, Bucky didn't think he'd last long.

~0~

Wanda had hated the week of sitting shiva after Pietra died. Her family focused on Mama and Papa losing a daughter, not Wanda losing a sister, and most of them glared at her out of the corners of their eyes as if it was somehow her fault. Still, she knew the practice of having people visit the bereaved for a period would be worthwhile when those people were as empathetic and loving as the Avengers. Her suspicions were correct. Together, they kept Bucky company, kept him fed, and kept him from being alone in that house for an entire seven days straight.

A week later, she found herself blindfolded in the passenger seat of her own car. But not in a scary way. Victor apparently had a surprise for her. "I've been keeping this secret for quite a while, but I wanted to wait until the moment was right," he insisted. Wanda knew that meant he'd wanted to wait until Steve's imminent death no longer hung over their heads.

"I feel like I'm being kidnapped," she said when Victor presented the blindfold.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you."

"Then put on the blindfold and keep it on."

"Okay."

They'd been driving for nearly an hour now, by Wanda's estimate. She couldn't see the clock to check the time and Victor wouldn't tell her because it would be a clue. Wanda definitely wasn't smart enough to figure it out based on how long a drive it took to get there, but Victor probably was, which is why he was so hesitant to reveal that information. As the drive wore on, however, she started to get nervous.

"Victor, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"I know that, but I'm starting to think we might never come back from this surprise if it takes so long to get to it."

"We'll be back. I promise. You said you trusted me."

"I do."

"Then be patient, darling."

Wanda never could resist him when he called her darling.

The car finally came to a stop maybe another half an hour later. Victor stepped out, walked around the car, and helped Wanda out of her door. He guided her forward a few steps, turned her by the shoulders to face something in front of the car, and said, "Take off the blindfold."

Finally, Wanda reached up to remove the cloth tied around her eyes. She had no idea what to expect and her shoulders tensed in anticipation. With the blindfold off, she looked at this surprise Victor had been so carefully hiding for weeks, maybe months, and immediately her head cocked in confusion. They'd parked in the driveway of what might have been a house once, but nothing more than the foundation remained.

"Is this a joke?"

"No," Victor insisted.

"The surprise is…an empty lot?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Wanda didn't know what to make of it. She tried not to look outwardly disappointed because she knew this was important to Victor, but it clearly went over her head. Glancing around, she saw a lovely little suburb. "It's a nice neighborhood," she commented.

"Indeed."

He had a stupid smile on his face. Wanda glared at him. "Viz, what's going on?"

That smile only grew bigger as he fished around in his back pocket and handed her a folded piece of paper. Wanda took it hesitantly, still puzzled as to what this whole thing was about. She unfolded it slowly, revealing a property deed in the names Wanda Maximoff and Victor Shade for an address in a place called Westview, New Jersey. Right beneath Lot B, which must be the empty space before her, was a red heart with Victor's all-caps handwriting: "To grow old in, -V."

Wanda almost dropped the paper in shock. "Victor, you didn't."

"I did."

"This…this is ours?"

"Indeed."

"How?"

The smile fell from his face, replaced by the hollow expression she knew meant he was thinking of Simon. "My parents saved for both of us to attend university, and, well…you know, Simon never got to use his. I think he'd approve of me using the money to build a house for my wife."

"Victor…" Wanda's eyes shone with tears. She could only imagine how hard it was to part with anything set aside for a twin who would never get to use it. Victor using his brother's college fund for her was just about the most profound declaration of love she could think of. "Can I hug you?"

Victor hesitated. Hugs were always a hit or miss with him; Wanda knew to ask first after a near-disastrous incident in the early days of their relationship. Instead of answering verbally, he took her hand and brought it to his cheek. Wanda understood. Her only boundary when it came to physical affection was not touching the scar on the side of her head, but Victor was more sensitive when it came to touch. He gently kissed her palm and then released her hand.

"I love you," he said.

Wanda gestured for him to follow and stepped inside the lot. She wanted to tell him this from inside their new home. They stood face to face in the middle of the empty lot. Wanda could already picture the walls of their house around them, covered in pictures of their families and, maybe one day, their own children. "I love you too," she told him.