**A/N: You may think this is late. It, however, is perfectly on time considering it's Steve's birthday! This chapter has some ups and downs, but it ends on a positive note, so I guess that's good?
Also, the dream in this chapter. I had this dream. Exactly the same. It was terrifying. I woke up sweating and crying and also sideways on my bed. It was intense.
Chapter 6- Apron Strings
"Then I wake up to my apron strings, cold and lonely, for time brings thoughts that only will be quiet when someone clings to my apron strings."
~Apron Strings, Everything But the Girl
As the elevator for the Tower moved up, Steve realized how exhausted he was. He couldn't remember the last time he got a full night's sleep. Even when the opportunity presented itself, he was too worried to actually rest his mind. He was hoping he would get at least a few hours of undisturbed rest that night, but he knew the chances of that were slim with a nightmare prone Bethany tossing and turning next to him, a crying Jamie waking up around the clock for food and a screaming Theo, trying to ward away the images seared into his mind. But with all of that happening elsewhere in the Tower, he couldn't really complain. He knew that he had it the best out of everyone in the apartment. And that was a terrifying concept.
The nervousness Bethany was feeling was radiating from her. She had, after much humming and hawing, agreed to join Steve at the Tower. The only thing keeping her away seemed to be the idea that her being with Jamie and Theo would only make things worse. Steve knew that this was a possibility, but he also knew the current situation couldn't stand much longer. Something had to change.
However, Steve felt an overwhelming sense of peace to know that Bethany seemed to want to help. Whether it was directly of the boys or Steve, she was thinking about someone other than herself, and that was always a good sign. All things considered, Bethany did think that Jamie was beautiful. He was hoping that one smile from his boy to his girl would make her fall head over heels in love with him. He was hoping for love at first sight. Photographs, in Steve's mind, didn't count.
He had once asked Bethany if she believed in love at first sight. She admitted that she believed in infatuation at first sight, but love derived from something deeper. More than just physical attraction. It rooted in emotion and communication. But when Jamie was placed in Bethany's arms for the first time, her hours of pain quickly forgotten, Steve knew that not only did Bethany believe in love at first sight now, but it also existed. He was hoping for the same effect. So, while he promised not to force Bethany into being who she was before, he was going to try with all his might for her to hold him.
"Maybe I should sleep on Tony's floor," Bethany spoke up, eyeing as the lights on the elevator wall rose, getting closer to their level.
"Beth, he's a baby," Steve reminded her. "He has very little expectations from you."
"That's what you say now, but I know better, Steve," Bethany replied stubbornly. "Babies need a lot. They can't do anything on their own."
"Is holding him and singing to him really that bad? It's effortless. You've always been more than generous to do both to me after a nightmare or a bad day. I'll do the rest of the work. Feeding him, changing him, baths-"
"Was I a good mom?" She asked nervously and very suddenly.
"Is that what you're afraid of?" Steve returned, turning to look at her as the elevator stopped on their floor.
"I know how to take care of babies," Bethany began, twisting her hands. "It's just… this isn't just anyone's kid. It's yours."
"And yours," Steve added, carefully directing her into the apartment before the elevator doors closed. "And yes. You were-are- an amazing mom. Much better than I ever expected, to be honest, and let's take a moment to be serious here. I once pictured you tied up in apron strings, baking cookies."
The look on her face said it all, and Steve couldn't help but stifle a laugh. The idea seemed repulsive to her, but Bethany did bake. Even the one in front of him. And she owned an apron. Lots of them, actually. Tony had once bought her an Iron Man styled apron, so naturally, Clint went out and bought her a Captain America one too. She had some that looked like a Santa Clause outfit, a Darth Vader one and a bunch in different patterns. They barely got used, but she owned them nonetheless. And damn, did she ever make good chocolate-chip cookies.
But Steve understood the look on Bethany's face. It wasn't the words. It was the idea. Of her, being a traditional housewife. The Bethany in front of him was still a hard-working SHIELD agent. She hadn't had the proper amount of time to soften up. Even then, it took Bethany a long time to even be okay with the idea of being a housewife. She had been ready to go back out in the field, if only for a little while.
"But the reason why you were such a good mom is for qualities you possess right now," Steve assured, putting the duffel bag down and placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm going to go check on Jamie. Make yourself at home, okay? Unless… unless, you would like to come with me?"
"I'll wait," Bethany replied with a small smile.
"Okay," Steve nodded, kissing her softly. He wasn't upset by her answer in the slightest. She was there. That was a huge step.
He remembered the moment it hit him that he was going to be a father. Excitement, of course. An overwhelming and slightly questionable sense of pride, yes. But fear? He would be responsible for a human being. He knew he could keep him safe, but he kept questioning what if he couldn't? Or what if he could, but couldn't do anything else? What if he became like Howard and his son like Tony? He had eight months to gear up to the challenge, and even then, anxiety still hit him while he laid in bed at night.
Stepping into the nursery, Steve moved up to Jamie's crib. The little boy was sound asleep, his long lashes casting shadows across his face and his little bow shaped mouth cracked open, just like his mom. His thumb was by his lips, as if he had been sucking at it. His Suzie had gone missing a week ago, right after Bethany's hospitalization, and they had yet to replace it. But apparently Jamie had found his own solution. Steve wasn't concerned about the 'ruining the shape of his mouth' thing since he himself had been a thumb sucker for years.
But if Jamie's lips stopped looking like Bethany's, he'd be disappointed. Right now, that was the only thing that made Bethany truly realize that Jamie was her son. She had recognized that Jamie's lips, which looked like a mesh between the two of them for the first little while, were now purely reflecting hers. Reaching into the crib, Steve carefully caressed the silky, tight curls on Jamie's head. You are beautiful, he thought before a loud bang caught his attention. Jamie, however, didn't stir.
Quickly making his way out to the living room, he saw Bethany pinning Jackson up to the wall. "Hey, hey, hey," Steve spoke up, moving to rescue the man. "Doll, Jackson is the Nanny."
"What?" She asked, confused, taking a step away from Jackson, who began to rub the back of his head.
"Who did you think was watching the boys? Tony? Natasha? Thor?"
The expression on her face was priceless and would've been hilarious if Steve wasn't more concerned on checking to make sure Jackson was okay. "Sorry, I just…" Bethany began, giving Jackson a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry."
"It's all good," Jackson coughed, trying to clear his throat. "No harm."
"Are you sure?" Steve pressed, his brow furrowed. With everything going on, the last thing he needed was a lawsuit. Although, Jackson didn't seem like the type, he was beginning to understand that people sued everyone for everything.
"Absolutely," the sitter nodded, clearing his throat again, but this time with more force.
"Alright, well thank you again," Steve pressed on. "I would've been lost without you here, so it really means a lot."
"Like I said before, it's my job," Jackson said with a small smile. "Good night you two."
"Good night," Bethany whispered softly, taking a step away to clear the way for Jackson.
"Have a safe trip home," Steve nodded, watching as the man left before turning to Bethany. "Our room is right in there. I'll be there in a minute, I'm just going to take a peek at Theo."
She nodded before slowly moving in the direction of their room. When she was safe in the room, Steve moved over to Theo's room. He peeked his head in the door, seeing the nightlight illuminating Theo's face. He was clutching a Captain America plushie in his sleep, which made Steve feel simultaneously less and more guilty. It was an odd mix, but Steve understood perfectly why he felt that way. Theo still loved him which made him less guilty. But Theo needed him, and he wasn't there for him the way he needed.
Softly closing the door, he walked over to his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. Bethany was sifting through their closet, seemingly studying her clothes. Steve picked up the tablet on the bedside table that was used specifically as a baby monitor, showing a video of the sleeping baby with his heart and breathing rate in the corner. Setting it on its stand, Steve walked over to Bethany and put his hands on her shoulders.
"What are you doing?" He asked as she touched a soft peasant shirt she owned.
"Just getting a better idea of who I was," She explained. "Clothes say a lot about a person. It reflects who they were. Are."
"And? What do you see?" He asked, curiously.
"Soft things. Soft colours. Comfy things too," she stated, touching a woolen sweater. "It's so different. Everything in my closet before was…"
"Tight, dark and leather?" Steve provided.
"Sexy," Bethany nodded. "Everything in here screams… mom."
"And what? That can't be sexy?" Steve asked critically. "I think it's sexy. Beth, I am ten times more attracted to you knowing that you gave me a son."
"I kinda feel blob-ish," Bethany replied, turning around and wrapping her arms around his waist. "My boobs… they're dragging me down. They're like cow utters."
"No, they're not," Steve promised truthfully. "But we can ease some of that tightness, if you want. The breast pump is in the bedside table."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Bethany nodded.
"I'm going to take a quick shower, but I'll be out soon, okay? You can figure out how it works?" Steve asked, to which he received a pointed look. "Right. You're a genius. A breast pump shouldn't slow you down."
"Go," Bethany encouraged with a little laugh.
Kissing her forehead carefully, Steve went to the master bathroom. He sent a fleeting look to the mirror. His hair was in need of a cut. His eyes looked tired and heavy. And he was due for a shave. In all honesty, he looked pretty awful, but no one had said anything. He wondered if he was overanalyzing his appearance, feeling exhausted and therefore looking it.
Stripping, starting the water and stepping into the shower, he could feel every inch of his body tingle. It felt amazing. He closed his eyes, letting the water run around him and enclosing on every part of his body. In all honesty, he didn't want to move. He would be content to stay like that for hours. Somehow, he was able to clear his mind for the first time in… he couldn't even remember how long. He couldn't remember the last time he had been conscious and hadn't been thinking about some pressing issue. To just let go and relish in the feeling of the water was a bliss he didn't soon want to let go of.
But reality did hit him as his bicep touched the cold tile of the shower wall. He had drifted off and when he pulled the shower curtain to the side to look at the clock, he realized he had been standing under the water for almost twenty minutes. Turning off the water, deciding that the rinse off was more than enough, he stepped out of the tub and reached for his towel hanging behind the door. He began to pat himself down, rubbing the towel in his wet hair until it turned damp and then combing through it. It would most likely be a disaster when he woke up, but he cared not. If worst came to worst, ball caps were the greatest invention in the world.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he proceeded to brush his teeth before heading back into the bedroom. He paused when he saw the bed. The sheets were wrinkled on Bethany's side, her having rested on it previously. On the bedside table sat the pump and a half filled bottle. But Bethany was nowhere in the room.
Shit, he thought, his heart hammering. He quickly pulled on some clean boxers, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, thinking that he'd be able to catch up to her. That she couldn't have gone far. But when he heard a soft cooing from Jamie, via the baby monitor, he remembered that he couldn't just get up and leave. Someone had to stay with the boys.
Steve stepped over to the tablet, moving to silence it so he could put his son back to sleep when he noticed that Jamie wasn't in his crib anymore.
"Shhh," he heard through the monitor.
He frowned for a moment before making his way over to the nursery. Sitting in the corner was Bethany, cradling Jamie. The only light coming into the room was the glitter of the nightlight and the moonlight in between the cracks of the curtains.
"Beth?" He whispered, realizing that she was feeding him. Breast feeding.
"He started to cry," She explained softly as he made his way over to her. "You were still in the shower so I thought… It's not so bad."
He smiled, watching as she carefully caressed one of his hands, which had an iron clad grip on her thumb. "You didn't have too," he reminded her. "You could've come get me."
"Yeah, I could've," Bethany nodded. "But something about hearing him cry… I wanted to be the one to stop it. It didn't take much effort. I just picked him up and he basically stopped. But I figured I might as well see if he was hungry. Evidently, he was."
"And? How does it feel? How do you feel?"
She looked up at him with a small smile. "Weird," she admitted. "But… Good, at the same time. What he expects of me… it's not a lot. Or at least in this moment. He's even more beautiful in person."
Steve leaned next to the rocking chair, touching Jamie's head softly. Jamie's eyes were glued to Bethany's face, as if he was afraid that she would disappear again. But in that moment, Steve had complete faith that Bethany wasn't just going to disappear on them. Something in Jamie's cries had awaken a part of her, the motherhood part, and she stepped up to the plate. She wasn't the same woman she was two weeks ago, but this was more than Steve expected.
In that moment, Steve decided that even if she never got her memories back, her loving him, him loving her and them both loving Jamie was enough for them to survive. And Bethany did love Steve. And she did love Jamie.
She may not have said as much, but he knew it.
Everything around her felt surreal. Nothing made sense, but at the same time, everything made sense. More than anything, it felt like an out of body experience. There she was, on a stage, waiting. Bethany felt emotionless. She hadn't felt this way in years, not since she started her lithium dosages to treat her bipolar disorder and no emotion was the ultimate goal for recovery. There wasn't anger or confusion. Just nothing.
"Are you ready?" Steve's voice echoed, appearing in front of her. A crowd began to form behind him, them waiting expectantly for something. A performance of some sort, but Bethany wasn't exactly sure what the performance was.
"Sure," she found herself saying, her voice void of all emotion. Music began to play and Steve handed Bethany a phone. On the screen was a picture of Jamie. She knew what the performance was. Sing a song to the baby. Like she did every day, only this time for everyone to see.
So she began to sing. "Dream the sweetest dream, swing from star to star. When you wake I will be here to hold you in my arms."
The words were beautiful, but the melody surrounding them was haunting. All of a sudden, the crowd was gone and the phone disappeared and it was just Bethany and Steve on the stage, the latter looking at her frazzled.
"Where's the baby?" He asked her.
"He was crying," Bethany began, a small spark of emotion filling her, but not the right one. A sense of happiness. But it wasn't quite that. Contentment. Smugness. Pride. "So I killed him."
Jackson had left to get his much deserved vacation, so Steve invited Sam over. He hid his request over wanting to properly catch up, but really, he just needed another set of hands, and Sam had a way with people he would never understand. Sam seemed to relate to everyone in a way. He was reasonable and sympathetic. And he typically knew what to say.
"Everyone still asleep?" Sam asked when they settled at the kitchen table, him holding a cup of coffee.
"Theo is awake, he just doesn't want to come out yet," Steve explained with a sigh. "We have a doctor's appointment at noon though, so he'll have to come out sooner or later."
"Well, now that Bethany is home, you can focus on him getting better," Sam said. "Although, the kid needs some serious therapy, Steve. Not that I blame him. We all have issues, but talking about them really does help."
"Yeah," Steve nodded. "I want to get them both into therapy."
"What about you?" Sam asked carefully.
"What about me?" Steve replied, a line forming between his eyes as confusion overcame him.
"It may do you some good," Sam offered. "You saw Bethany like that as well. You almost lost her. And I've talked to Natasha. She said you were in a really bad place. Maybe having someone to talk to, about everything, would help. And by everything, I mean Barnes as well."
"Isn't that what I have you for?" Steve teased with a small smile.
"It only works if you let me help," Sam replied honestly. "There's only so much I can do, man. You're carrying around a lot of baggage, and instead of trying to conquer it, you're avoiding it altogether. One day, everything will catch up-"
Sam was cut off by a loud, panicked cry from Bethany, followed by Jamie's wailing. The two men quickly pushed out of their chairs and ran into the bedroom. Steve's first instinct was to check on Jamie. The howl the little boy was emitting was like nothing he had never heard from him, as if he was in pain. It frightened him, a million thoughts running through his head.
Jumping around the bed and quickly picking him up from the co-sleeper, Steve simultaneously held the baby while also checking his body for any evidence of harm. Steve was both relieved and confused when he found nothing physically wrong with him. That's when he turned to Bethany, to ask her what had happened.
Only, she wasn't on the bed, but in a corner of the room, as far away as she could get from the co-sleeper and curled into a ball. Sam was leaned down next to her, trying to bring a sense of reassurance and calm, but Bethany was too preoccupied with rubbing her eyes with her palms to listen to him. It was as if she was attempting to wipe an image from her eyes, but failing at her mission.
"You're okay," Steve hummed to Jamie as he bounced rhythmically, the baby boy still trying to settle his cries. As of now, the howling had come to a close and was replaced by evenly spaced hiccups instead. Kissing his mop of curls, wild from his sleep, Steve and Sam shared a look.
Moving over closer to Bethany, he quietly asked her if she was okay. "Go away," was her very hushed response.
Sam stood up from his spot, holding out his arms. "This is one of those battles I can't help you with. At least, not now," Sam explained. Steve handed him Jamie, not failing to notice the way Jamie was looking at Bethany, almost like he was afraid. But Steve could tell it wasn't fear of his mother, or what she could do, but more what she may not do. Like hold him or smile at him or God forbid, love him again. Steve began to question one; his imagination and two; Jamie's intelligence.
When Sam and Jamie left the room, the door closing behind them, Steve sat down next to his wife. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what the hell that was," he announced, and meaning every single word.
She looked up at him, eyes red and swollen. "It… it was a dream. A nightmare," she explained, the words slowly floating off her lips, almost getting lost in the air with how quiet they were.
"I've slept beside you for almost three years," Steve pointed out. "And you've had your share of nightmares. Never like that, Bethany. Was it Loki again?"
"No," she whispered. "And that's what scares me. I did it without him."
"Did what?" Steve encouraged. "Doll Face, I need you to open up and tell me what's going on. I have to assume from Jamie and even Theo as he isn't being very open right now. Please tell me. You know I won't get angry or upset."
She said something. Whispered it. It took a while for Steve to even process the words once he did hear it. "I killed him" she said.
"Killed who?" Steve asked, taking one of her hands and holding it tightly.
"The baby," she whispered again. "You asked me where he was and… I told you. He was gone. I killed him. And I didn't care."
Another stab in the heart. But he didn't let himself dwell on his own pain. He knew exactly what to say to her in return. "But you care now. Awake, you care. Right?"
"Well, yeah," She replied, still quietly, but louder than before.
"It was a nightmare," Steve rationalized. "They don't always make sense. We dream our biggest fears, not our future, Beth. You should take your reaction, your gut instinct, and just think about that. It's been less than twenty-four hours and you already know one thing; that you don't want anything to happen to Jamie. Isn't that a start? Isn't that something good?"
It was a long moment before she nodded. "I guess that logic is sound… I just… It was scary."
"I know," Steve assured. "But don't think about it as a bad thing. Think about it like… like you know what you want and what you don't want. You don't always do, Beth. And sometimes you make hasty decisions and regret them."
"I wouldn't hurt him," Bethany promised. "I know I fucked up before, but Steve… he's… he's a baby. With fingernails and eyelashes and… intelligence. I can tell just by looking into his eyes. He's smart. I feel like he'd know."
"Feeling better?" Was all Steve could say in response. Any reminder of the child that could have lived always made him uneasy, but he forced himself to remember that this Bethany hadn't heard him say that he forgave her a million times. "Look, if I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have left Jamie alone with you. I have so much faith in you, because I forgive you. Forgiving the unforgivable isn't easy, but I know that I would rather do it than not have you."
She gave him a wary smile, wiping away some stray tears with shaking hands. "Thanks," she whispered before sighing. "I'm-I'm not ready to go out yet. I just want to go back to sleep. Hopefully wake up with a better dream."
"Okay," Steve nodded. "That actually sounds like a great idea. Anything you need from me?"
"A kiss would be nice," she admitted lightly, Steve quickly granting her wish.
"With knowing him for a little while, you already feel protective of him. You cherish him. You know you don't want anything bad to happen to him or for him to want anything. That's why you let him sleep in the co-sleeper."
"He wouldn't stop crying when we left the room," Bethany reminded him. "Somehow he knew when we left the room, even deep in slumber."
"Well, you said it yourself. He's smart. My point was… that's how I felt about you when I first met you. And look at what happened. I fell in love with you. Just give yourself the chance to do the same with him."
She nodded again, Steve helping her up. He tucked her in bed, kissed her again and watched her for a moment as she settled in the fluffy sheets. When he opened the door, Molly slipped in, her fat, fuzzy body moving to lie next to Bethany. Theo had a doctor's appointment later, and he was going to ask for a referral for a therapist, something to help Theo overcome his fear and anxiety. Anything to bring that fun-loving kid out.
And in that moment, he was deeply considering getting a referral for his wife too. She was carrying too much baggage and too much scars that she fought so hard to recover from before Jamie was born. Now, she bore those scars again. And she didn't have time to heal them before she became the very thing that helped give her those scars in the first place.
A mother.
Bethany crawled out of bed around 12:30, still not able to shake her exhaustion but pegging it to oversleeping opposed to under-sleeping. At this point, she knew the only way to shake the feeling was to work up a sweat, hit some punching bags and speed up her heart rate.
Walking into the bathroom, she gave it a once over before she looked at herself. It was clean. And not just clean but Bethany clean. It probably hadn't been used much since the last time she cleaned, or rather the Other Bethany cleaned it. The towels were folded perfectly, except for the long white towel draped over the door, supposedly in effort to dry it. The counter was clear of unnecessary clatter and the sink void of any toothpaste clumps. The icing on the top on the cake was the toothpaste lying parallel to the square sink.
The walls were tan and the lights bright, but calming. A soft yellow opposed to a harsh bluish tone. And the shower. It was huge. "The tub is big enough for two," Bethany said quietly to herself, a small smile pulling at her lips. Her tub at the old apartment would have been a cozy fit, but this one would allow both her and Steve to lie comfortably, it was so wide and long. Moving wouldn't be awkward, but an ease. Some kinky ideas started flowing to Bethany's mind. In a word, she approved.
Finally, she turned to the large mirror that was the same length as the countertop. Her face was now completely healed, not even light scars left. Taking a step closer to her reflection, even leaning across the counter to get a better look, she examined what she saw. Her eyebrows were in their classic, perfect arch, not a hair out of place. Her skin was clear from any acne, a soft porcelain shade of pale, except for on her nose where small and light freckles danced over the soft bridge. Her eyes drew the most attention. Her green eyes were usually light and soft, but the colour seemed to pop today in a way that was unnatural. Like the colour of an evergreen tree. There were no bags or signs of exhaustion under her eyes, however, and her lashes seemed darker and longer than she remembered them.
She looked for it, but she couldn't see it. The experience. The torture. The heartbreak. The betrayal. All of those things she saw in the mirror, waiting for Steve to wake up from his sixty-seven year slumber. She couldn't see that darkness that had become not only her friend, but everything she was. It was like in the last two and a half years, she had cleaned herself of that darkness and restored a part of her youth. She wasn't dark and mysterious and sexy. She was light and familiar and beautiful.
She knew the years had no effect on her appearance, but there was always that dark change that reminded her of everything. Now, it was like she was pulled straight from 1943. Although, she needed a smile to really make the image complete. Lipstick and finger waves wouldn't even make the difference. It was really just a smile. She tried to smile. She urged herself to move those muscles, but she couldn't.
Bethany wondered if her old attire, the long, dark brown hair, layers of eyeliner and black leather would bring back that experience, the one that made her outside match her inside. Now, her hair was a healthy shade of blonde, going just under her shoulders, but she could tell that the Other Bethany had been wearing it a little shorter. And it was curly. She had left it to dry naturally the night before, not by choice, but by circumstance. Usually, she would brush the curls while it was drying or put some kind of anti-frizz in to tame the tight and wild curls, tricks she had learned from her teen years. Well, not the anti-frizz, but definitely the brushing technique.
Pulling open the first drawer, she found a brush and began to pull it through the curls. She kept pulling, over and over again, watching as the tight ringlets lost their form and began to gain volume and frizz wildly. They look like Jamie's, she thought randomly, stilling immediately. Looking at the untouched side, she realized that it was true. The tight curls she had touched delicately the night before resembled the ones she bore. Sighing, she put the brush back into the drawer.
In a small plastic box sat some black elastics and Bethany took one, scraping her hair back into a bun. She couldn't see the curls when she was done, but she knew they were there. She then proceeded to wash her face, brush her teeth and then wash her face again. She couldn't shake the feeling of filth covering her, but she knew showering before her workout was idiotic. Plus, she wasn't really trying to impress anyone. She just needed to rid herself of the ghosts of hands that didn't belong on her body.
No, Bethany reminded herself firmly. She didn't want to think about her dreams now. Not until she was in the gym and she could take that fear and pain and turn it into something powerful and dangerous. If she thought about it now, she could very well hurt someone and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
Remembering the vanity table beside the closet, Bethany exited the bathroom and then sat on the little stool. She flipped the switch for the lights around the mirror and looked at her extensive collection of makeup. She always had a lot. Different occasions, different undercover missions, different moods… they all called for different makeup and different techniques. From the photos Steve showed her, she typically went for a more natural look, using tans and browns and on occasion, a subtle purple. Her lipstick varied from glosses and almost non-existent pinks to a red lip, but she knew the latter was for Steve.
She picked up a tube of mascara and that was all she applied. She honestly didn't know how to do her makeup. She didn't really know who she was or how she was feeling. She didn't know who to show the world. She had known who she was only twenty-four hours ago. But now… she was surer that Elvis was secretly alive opposed to who she was. It was a daunting concept.
Bethany then moved to get dressed.
Flowers. Silks. Lace. Blouses.
Colour.
The apparel was pretty, that much she could admit. And she honestly believed that they would make her feel good. Happy, even. But she knew that a workout in a cotton peasant blouse covered in little floral prints wouldn't be a good idea. She pulled a white shirt from a hanger and opened the dresser drawer for a sports bra. Pairing those with a pair of yoga pants and some sneakers, she felt ready.
She wasn't, however.
When she opened the bedroom door, on the couch sat a man holding Jamie. It had been so quiet, she assumed she was all alone. She immediately went into spy mode, but remembered the previous night when she accidentally attacked the sitter. What Steve had told her about HYDRA wanting to use Jamie as a weapon and use his DNA to unlock the super soldier serum hadn't sat well with her.
"Umm… hi?" Bethany spoke, drawing the man's attention.
"Hey, look who's awake," the man cheered, raising Jamie's hands in celebration. Bethany looked at the boy, cracking the softest of smiles as he began to laugh as the man shook his hands. "Mommy's up, Jim Jam. This one has been waiting for you," he shared, standing up and walking over to hand her Jamie. She took him but with heavy confusion.
"Oh, I'm Sam," he added after some silence. Jamie reached up to grab Bethany's lips. She turned her head, wincing slightly, trying to free herself, but Jamie's hands just ended up winding themselves' tightly in her shirt instead. "I'm a friend of Steve's. And Jamie's godfather."
Bethany looked down at the blonde baby, his bright blue eyes glued to her unblinking and mouth glistening with drool. "He's baptized?" She asked, knowing that the decision was most likely Steve's.
"Would you like some lunch?" Sam asked with a large smile. His mood was infectious, and Bethany could tell why Steve liked him, but she was keen on being stubborn.
"No, I…I want to go work off some energy," She spoke up, trying to unwind one of Jamie's hands from her shirt. The kid was strong though, and she didn't want to hurt him. "Umm, where's Steve?"
"Theo had a doctor's appointment," Sam explained. "Poor kid hasn't been doing well."
"When they get back, can you tell them I'm at the gym?" She was sure there was a gym in the building. There was in the original design plans, and she couldn't imagine all of the Avengers living under one roof without a place for them to work out. The rundown gym in Brooklyn was nice and all, but it was a little too far and not as private as, well a private gym.
"You're still going?" He asked confused, as if she would've changed her mind. She wondered if she should. If it was expected of her. "You don't want to hang with Jamie?"
"You can watch over the little Munchkin, right?" Bethany asked, not understanding the problem. "I mean, wasn't that what you were doing? What? Why are you laughing?"
It wasn't a laugh per say. It was more like a stifled chuckle. But it irritated her nonetheless. "Nah, it's nothing," Sam replied earnestly. "It's just… that's your and Steve's nickname for him."
That shouldn't have felt like a slap across the face, but for some reason, it did. "Oh," was all she could say. "I… I must have heard Steve call him that, or something," she rationalized, trying to hand Jamie to Sam, but the baby wasn't making this easy.
Jamie instantly began to whine, his grip on Bethany's shirt even tighter than before. The look on his face was of pure horror, clearly terrified that she would leave and never come back. With the circumstances, she couldn't really blame him. "I can't… I can't stay here. In this apartment," Bethany explained with a sigh.
"Alright," Sam began, looking worried now. "Don't do anything you're feeling forced to do. Maybe walk around, go explore the Tower? And take him with you? Get some bonding in? And as soon as it's too much, just bring him back here and you can go off on your own. Okay?"
Bethany's nightmare had overtaken her. The sweet little angel in her arms right now was dead in her dreams, and she was the reason. But there was one thing she could confidently say; she wasn't afraid to be alone with him. Despite not knowing who she was, she knew she was in a sound mind. Steve would have told Sam not to leave her with Jamie if he didn't believe Bethany could handle it. She knew she could. She had been left with Tony and Theo when they were babies, and obviously nothing bad happened then. They were still alive. They were relatively happy. Or at least, their unhappiness wasn't a direct result of something she did. Indirect, maybe. But there wasn't really anything you could have done for that.
Bethany's free hand went behind Jamie and started to rub his back, showing him that he could stay in her arms. "Okay," she said softly. While she still wanted to go punch a bag of some sort, carrying the boy was giving her an overwhelming sense of calm. "Does he have some sort of toy to hold onto opposed to my shirt?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded, turning around and picking up something from the coffee table. He held it out and before Bethany went to grab it, Jamie did. She watched as the baby pulled the toy up to his mouth and began to slobber all over it. Bethany smirked when she realized the toy was a small Hulk plushie.
"I'll be here, mooching off the wifi," Sam announced, moving back to the couch and pulling out his phone.
Bethany looked to Jamie, sharing a quick look before they headed to the elevator. "Should we start at the top or bottom, oh-child-of-mine?"
Jamie gave her a blank look before breaking out into laughter. She tried to stay neutral and be serious but the laughter was loud and wild and uncaring of how silly it sounded. "Your cute, you know that?" Bethany said with a small smile. The tone was taunting, but all in good nature. If anyone was watching over them, they'd think Bethany was the New Woman in Jamie's life—the step mom to be that didn't necessarily like kids.
"Top it is," Bethany decided when Jamie finally stopped. He gave her one of those wide and ugly, but in a way adorable open mouth smiles, his eyes squinted. She could see small white dots, some still under the gum, but trying to break free. The kid was teething.
As the elevator started upwards, Bethany pulled Jamie's top lip up to inspect it more closely. She was surprised he let her. It took her a moment for everything to hit her. He was real. Right now he was a small little thing, but one day he'd be taller than her, stronger than her, and most likely smarter than her. "Five months, huh?" Bethany said, slight amusement in her voice. "Oh yeah. I think we'll have some fun, little man."
**A/N: Up next; some answers. Some. A little more of my personal life; I quit my job at McDonald's. Two years there and I finally said goodbye. Which hopefully means a calmer lifestyle for me :) Which, in turn, means longer and more dedicated chapters.
IrelandLover: Well, Bethany briefly met Thor in New Mexico, so she'd know who he is. I have some ideas for some good scenes with Bethany and Thor, but I'm always hesitant to write him because I don't feel like I have a good grasp on him as a character.
sailorraven34: Her lost memories will continue for a while longer, but I'm planning on making a better version of Bethany from it. So hopefully it'll all work out well :)
Jo: Woo, a favorite? I wrote the entire thing in a notepad while bored at work, so evidentially, that's a good tactic for me.
FelicisFelicia: Right? I cannot believe that I've written that much. I often go back and re-read parts of the story and I'm always amazed at how long it's actually been. I can remember writing the earlier chapters in my sister's room at my dad's old house, really late at night on my tablet. That's when it sinks in how long I've been at this. This will definitely be a long story. I have so many ideas. I've actually planned the plotline way after Age of Ultron. I just need to develop it all and that's how this story gets so long :P
