Tina couldn't remember feeling more completely fatigued. The combination of pain and sheer exhaustion was overwhelming, but somehow, she was totally overjoyed. Rose, she thought, my little girl. Thinking of her daughter gave Tina renewed energy. I can't wait to meet Doll. She could see the wrapped pink bundle in one of the nurse's arms. That's my baby. My daughter. Rose Charlotte. She concentrated on her daughter as she continued in her labor. Rose. Rose. She repeated the name like a mantra, drawing strength from it.

…

Bruce only looked over the medical reports from Rose briefly, but what he saw, he loved. She was the picture of health, more perfect than many single babies carried to term. It gave him immense hope that despite Doll's small size she would be alright. And, by the looks of things, Doll would be making an appearance soon.

…

Steve was impressed with the fantastic amount of strength that his little wife was demonstrating. Particularly, the amount of force she was using to squeeze his hand. He couldn't quite put a value on it, but he was fairly sure that a normal human would have several broken fingers. As it was, his hand hurt, which in itself was quite impressive. Steve tried to continue cheering her on as he had before, but he couldn't help sneaking glances over at Rose. Come on, Doll, he thought impatiently, hurry it up. Come join your sister. Mommy's getting tired.

"Tina, get ready," Bruce said, suddenly.

Steve grinned ear to ear, excitedly expecting the newest member of his family. Tina nodded briefly and groaned in pain. Her grip tightened, fresh nail marks appearing on Steve's skin. She panted for air, and Steve grimaced in sympathy. He hated her pain like nothing else in the world. The only reason he could forgive this pain was because of his children- anything else would be loathed without question. Tina screamed, and Bruce reached forward.

Steve caught sight of his son for the first time. He almost wanted to laugh at first, We had em switched up. Champ's a girl and Doll's a boy.

Then he looked closer. His boy was tiny, fitting in Bruce's two palms. His limbs were thin. The baby did not scream like Rose had, remaining still. Bruce firmly patted him on the back, and he sucked in a breath. Rather than crying, however, the baby breathed in startled pants. Bruce immediately turned and was enveloped by a crowd of pediatricians, all speaking loudly and buzzing around with activity. Steve was frozen. Wait! That's my son! Bring him back here! The lead obstetrician frowned then and Steve noticed blood- everywhere.

"Is that okay?" he asked in panic.

The doctor sighed, looking more mildly annoyed than worried.

"Happens sometimes, she ripped a little. It'll be just fine. I'm going to give her something for pain before I fix it…she's going to be sleepy."

"Steve," Tina pulled weakly on his arm, "let me see Doll."

Steve's face was a twisted mask of panic, but Tina was too exhausted to notice. He bent down and kissed her temple.

"It's a little boy," he murmured, evading her request. "Thank you, love."

A tear slipped from Tina's eye.

"We had them backwards," she laughed breathlessly.

Steve tried to smile, but couldn't. He heard shouting from the other room- Bruce's voice along with many others.

"Yeah. We did."

"James Steven," Tina sighed.

Worry ate away at him. Tina's eyelids drooped and Steve left her for the first time, searching for Bruce. He figured that Tina would be fine with Natasha, although he still felt guilty for not staying by her side the whole time.

"Bruce?"

The doctor had his back to him, shoulders shaking slightly. The other pediatricians sat morosely around the room, shoulders slumped and expressions cheerless.

"Bruce?" Steve's voice cracked and his heart pounded.

Bruce turned, holding the little baby, who kicked weakly. Tears streamed down the scientist's face as he stared into James' face. He handed Steve his son.

"He's just like you," Bruce murmured, pointing to the baby's features.

It was undeniable; James had his father's face in miniature, the same chin, the same lips, the same nose.

"Is he- what happened- what-" Steve choked on words, overwhelmed yet again by waves of love and fear for this small person.

"He's- well. He-" Bruce coughed in an effort to not sob, "he's too small. His lungs are small, his immune system isn't fully functional, although his brain appears to be perfectly normal. But the-the bigger problem is…" Bruce pushed his glasses, slippery from tears, up his nose. "His heart…it's too small. It's not pumping enough blood. The other things would be okay, but he needs a transplant…and there isn't one."

The words thundered in Steve's ears. His heartbeat sounded a million times too loud and he felt cold from shock. Each breath sounded like a foghorn in his ear. Bruce's words pointed in a direction that he refused to go in. Not my son. No, no, no, no, no. My baby will be okay. James is going to be fine.

"Is he hurting?"

Steve listened to his own voice, but it felt like a stranger speaking. He felt distant, concentrating only on the face of his son, refusing to look away for even a second.

"No, he feels no pain at all," Bruce answered, "he just feels tired. It's the best possible way, it'll feel like falling asleep."

The Captain's head snapped up and his eyes burned like lasers.

"What will feel like falling asleep?" he asked, his voice terrifyingly quiet.

Bruce shook his head sadly. "What, Bruce?" Steve growled, "What are you saying?"

The doctor's face crumpled and fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. He rested his hand on Steve's shoulder.

"He's probably got another ten minutes…fifteen if he fights."

He left the room, followed by the other doctors. Steve was left alone with his son. He began to hyperventilate. Not my little boy. Not my son. Please no. His vision felt like it was blurring, and he was having trouble breathing. Steve cradled his baby close, painfully aware of each second's passing, of the small weight and tiny shape of his little boy. James opened his eyes and Steve gasped. They were exactly his eyes, the same shape, the same shade of sky-blue. "He's just like you," Bruce had said. Just like me. Too small, too weak. All my old health problems. Steve let out a sob.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, "I'm sorry James…this is my fault," he cried. You're just like pre-serum me…If only I could fix you like Dr. Erskine saved me. If only you had-

Steve froze and his eyes opened wide. If James has my DNA…and my DNA has the serum…

It was crazy. It was absolutely nuts. If it didn't work, it would kill James sooner. It was Steve's only chance to save his baby.

Like a bullet launched from a gun Steve went from a state of statuesque stillness to blinding speed almost instantly. Through the room, kicking the door open, down the hallway like a flash before anyone even realized what was happening. He jumped down the center of the stairway, knowing that the elevator would be much too slow. He absorbed the landing with his powerful legs: James probably wasn't even jostled. He sprinted through the Tower, searching for the very bottom basement.

"JARVIS," he gasped, "open it!"

The door opened with a pneumatic hiss and Steve ran inside. The Vita-Ray machine stood before him. The room looked almost exactly the way it had; Tony had copied it precisely. Steve was overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu. "JARVIS, open the machine…lay it flat." The Vita-Ray machine obediently lowered and the doors opened. Steve glanced at his son, whose incredibly tiny hand had taken hold of Steve's finger. The baby's hand was so small that his fingers didn't even wrap all the way around Steve's thumb. He kissed his son softly. "I love you James. I love you so much." Tears began to fall, thick and fast. He set the baby in the machine tenderly. "Leave it flat J," he commanded, voice shaking. Steve fell to his knees as the door shut. His chest heaved for breath.

"Shall I start it, sir?" JARVIS asked.

Steve sobbed collapsing into a ball on the floor.

"Yes," he choked out.

Light began to pour from the machine and the soldier wept. Please. Please.

…

"Holy-" Clint yelled as a white blur shot down the hallway.

Tony stood up.

"Was that…?" he looked at the archer in worry. "JARVIS…was that Steve?"

"Yes, sir. It was."

Without a moment's hesitation, the two men ran after him.

"Where's he going?" Clint panted.

"Down," JARVIS replied. "It appears he's attempting to reach the basement."

Tony and Clint almost slid sideways they turned into the elevator so fast. Without being told, the elevator plunged down in pursuit of the Captain.

"What happened?" Tony asked his AI.

"Doctor Banner had a brief, emotional discussion with Captain Rogers, which after a moment, led to said Captain dashing towards the basement."

Clint ground his teeth in frustration.

"JARVIS, for the love of god, what did he say?"

"He mentioned the baby's condition. The child's heart is too small to function on its own and therefore he would require a transplant. Doctor Banner informed the Captain of a time limit…ten to fifteen minutes, I believe."

Tony and Clint looked at each other in horror. Time limit? Did that mean…? The doors dinged open and they raced out, following JARVIS's directions. Tony saw an open door in the left wing and his eyes widened. Is he trying to-oh god oh god.

"Steve!" he ran inside, gasping for air.

The soldier was on the floor, shaking with sobs. Clint ran to his side, but Tony stared up at the Vita-Ray. Light poured from the it, and JARVIS's countdown showed that the machine was almost done. Finally, the lights in the room flickered. The Vita-Ray's light died as the room's lights returned. The doors opened with a hiss and all three men held their breath.

The choking silence was broken by the lusty wail of a rather annoyed sounding baby.

Steve flew to his feet and scooped up his son from the machine. The baby was much bigger, and chubby like his sister, although his features remained the same. He gave his father a reproachful glare, as if to say 'how dare you stop cuddling me'. The soldier sobbed unashamedly.

"James," he cried, "I'm sorry. I love you too much, lil fella. I couldn't let you go." His knees shook, but his arms held strong, keeping his son close and rocking him slightly. James quieted some, studying his father with bright blue eyes. Steve noticed a tuft of blonde hair on the baby's head, which stuck directly up. James was bigger than Rose, significantly heavier but just as sweet. Clint walked behind Steve, peeking over his shoulder.

"Awwww," he cooed involuntarily. Steve grinned, looking up at his friend. Clint coughed surreptitiously. "I mean. Um. Well this is good news-"

Steve laughed and Tony examined James as well.

"What a cutie," Tony said, letting the baby hold onto his finger.

"Guys, this James Steven. My son."

*phew* well that was pretty intense! Next chapter we get to see everyone's reactions to them :)

Review please! And also keep thinking on what you'd like to see me write next...