When they told Bruce, he didn't take it well.

It was the day after the appointment that Tony and Pepper sat him down and told him everything, no sugarcoating, no cover-ups. Tony wanted to wait a couple extra days before saying anything just to have more time to digest the information himself, but Pepper had shut that idea down in the middle of the night when Bruce was out like a light and they were sleepless. She was done hiding things, she'd said. The situation with Tony was a lesson learned about how shutting one person out was damaging to all three, and besides, she was fairly positive that Bruce would notice when Tony started going to the office every day instead of Pepper.

So they told him, and it was horrible, but they knew it wouldn't be easy. His initial reaction was to be expected—the broken expression, the questions, the fear. Tony and Pepper were familiar with those reactions, just because they were same things they were already feeling. It was the other part that they weren't prepared for: the unnerving quiet, the tension in his muscles, and how whenever he touched Pepper it seemed too careful rather than just gentle, as if he was afraid he'd break her more than she already was.

But then he started doing his Bruce Thing, as Tony called it. So after a few days of what could really only be considered brooding, he went back to acting like it was all fine and that he wasn't terrified, even though they all knew better.

It continued on like that for a month, during which the three of them tiptoed around the obvious subject and even each other, until Pepper found herself laid up in a hospital bed for a day and they were back to being able to cut the tension like a wire. (The hospital thing wasn't even necessary, Pepper thought. They thought it was labor when she knew it wasn't and that it was just the pain, but she ended up there anyway. At least the meds were nice.)

Back to basics, and back to six more excruciatingly long weeks of bed rest for Pepper, if everything went as planned.

That morning wasn't too different from all the others. Pepper watched the two of them bustle around to get ready for the day while she stayed slumped in bed, wishing she was doing the same instead of knowing that she'd be left alone with her own thoughts until that evening. Usually she was comforted by the knowledge that Bruce's work at the tower was leisurely and unrestricted so he could be with her when she needed it, but today he actually had pressing engagements and she wasn't selfish enough to tell him to stay home.

Well, she didn't really need him to stay with her the other times either, but Tony had taken over running SI and having Bruce there made her days a little less lonely. Maybe it wasn't entirely for her sake, though. Maybe she thought that having Bruce with her would show him that she was fine and he didn't need to worry, because no matter how good he was at shoving everything under a resigned mask and a gentle smile, Pepper knew he was more or less in a constant state of concern.

"You'll call me if you need anything, right?" Or Bruce was good at hiding it, until that morning when he actually had to leave the tower completely, and now it seemed like all of his bottled up worries were spilling over into a glass that was far too small. "Seriously. Anything. If you need anything just call me and I'll be here."

Pepper sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that day already. "I'll be fine, Bruce," she said, and she was pretty sure the times she'd said that had reached one hundred and one. "Do me a favor and don't spend the whole day obsessively checking your phone?"

"You know I will. Tony's gotten me into the habit." Bruce turned around to look at her from his place in front of the mirror that he'd been using to tie his tie. It was nothing short of a haphazard job, and Pepper snorted and gestured him over. He complied with a sheepish smile, and sat on the edge of the bed beside her to let her skilled hands tie the knot for him. "Uh, been a while since I've worn one of these."

"I can tell." Pepper looked up to meet his eyes and give him a smile as she mindlessly fixed his tie, the years of doing the same thing for Tony showing in her skill. "You should wear them more often though," she continued, fixing his collar and smoothing his shirt, "makes you look extra handsome."

Bruce's smile twitched, and he looked down to hide the bashfulness and take Pepper's hand into his own. "I wish I didn't have to go," he said softly, his eyes following the movement as he laced their fingers and set their joined hands carefully on Pepper's swollen stomach.

"I don't," Pepper said easily. "NYU asked you to do this seminar months ago and you've been so excited that you haven't stopped talking about it since. Plus, you know what an endorsement from these people will do for your research if they like what they hear."

"I know," Bruce sighed, and it was the same sound he always uttered when he knew she was right, which she almost always was. "I know, it'll be huge. I just wish it was, I don't know… six weeks from now," he cracked a smile, "so I didn't have to leave you to—"

"—to be completely fine," Pepper finished the sentence for him, using her other hand to tilt his chin up so he'd look at her. "Go give your lecture, and you can tell us all about it tonight when you come home, where I'll still be just fine."

Bruce bit down on his bottom lip, chewing it for a moment before his lips curled into a small smile and he conceded. "Okay, okay, I get it," he said, chuckling a little half-heartedly. "You'll be fine. I know you'll be fine. But still, I'm only around the block if you need me… for whatever reason."

"And I'm only a few floors away in the office, so I think I might just be the better option." Tony walked out of the bathroom then, looking considerably more pulled together than he had 20 minutes before when he went in. He'd shaped his beard and slicked his hair, and the way he was dressed in a dark burgundy button-down and black slacks combined with Bruce's dapper suit and tie made Pepper want to keep both of them there to do more than just keep her company. "Come on, Big Guy. I'll drop you off and try to make it back before Pep's secretary gives me a dirty look for being late."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "You realize that you being late also screws up everyone else's schedule, right?"

Tony shrugged as he pulled on his jacket and walked over to the other two. "None of them would have jobs if it wasn't for me. They should be grateful that I show my face around there." He cracked a smile and rested a hand on Bruce's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Bruce just shook his head and chuckled a little bit, patting Tony's hand with the one that wasn't holding Pepper's. "I guess we should get going so you can save face then," he said. He leaned forward to kiss Pepper gently, and he squeezed her hand once more before he stood up.

Tony took his turn next, giving her a kiss that lasted a little longer before mumbling "I'll call you" against her lips. After that he bent over and pressed his lips ever so lightly against her belly, lingering there until he felt a flutter underneath his palm. "Try not to miss me too much in there," he murmured, and he felt Pepper stroke his cheek with her thumb before he pulled back.

Pepper smiled contently at both of them, watching Tony throw his arm over Bruce's shoulders as they turned towards the door. "Good luck today, Bruce," she said sweetly, "go get 'em."

They reluctantly left her behind then, and made their way to the elevator that would take them down to the garage. Once the doors slid shut, Bruce sighed and leaned back against the wall, absently watching the digital numbers as they ticked downwards. Tony looked over at him curiously, stepping closer to bump his shoulder.

"Not getting cold feet, are you?" Tony asked teasingly. "'Cause unfortunately you're not gonna have my pretty face in the audience to help you out if you choke."

Bruce huffed out a dry laugh, tilting his head back against the cool metal of the elevator wall. "I think I'll survive," he said, staying where he was for a delayed moment after the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "The bigger issue is if I'll even be able to concentrate."

Tony stifled a sigh. There it was, of course, no doubt about it. "For the sake of not sounding like a broken record, I'm not gonna say she'll be fine," he started, and the way Bruce's expression shifted so quickly prompted him to hold up a hand a finish his point. "I'm gonna tell you to calm down, because the more you keep stressing, the more it's gonna stress her out. And she doesn't need to be stressed out right now." He stepped out of the elevator and held out his hand, beckoning for Bruce to take it.

"I know," Bruce agreed, and the admission came in a tone that was almost self-depreciating, like he was kicking himself for still not being okay. "I know. I really do. I just—this is the first day since that appointment that I won't be readily available for her if she needs it, and after last week…" He shrugged, figuring Tony would get the point.

"Last week was a hiccup," Tony said. He'd said that multiple times over the past couple days, thinking that maybe if he said it enough he'd actually believe it. Honestly, he really didn't know how he'd been holding it together so well. "It wasn't even a big deal. Even the doctor said it wasn't anything to worry about, she just needed those meds to get through it that day. And, jeez, Banner, shouldn't it be me who's sick and jittery with worry?" he asked, smiling crookedly as he placed his hands on Bruce's upper arms. "Usually you're the reasonable one."

"It's a weird look on you," Bruce joked in return, "being reasonable like that." He went quiet for a minute after that, relaxing minimally under the warmth and gentle passes of Tony's hands along his arms. He leaned against the car that was behind him and tried to gather his thoughts into some kind of rational order, and push away just how terrified he felt every single day that he was going to lose everything. This was the only thing he'd ever really, obsessively wanted—someone he loved, someone who loved him, a family. And he had it all right here. Literally all of it and then some, since somehow he'd found two people instead of one. But of course nothing was ever perfect, not for Bruce. Apparently that just wasn't allowed. "I guess it's just a little scary," he finally said, looking back up at Tony.

"Yeah," Tony agreed, squeezing Bruce's arm. "Yeah, of course it is."

"No, I mean… everything is, you know?" Bruce continued with a shrug, and he didn't know how he was able to say that so casually. "It was scary enough when I realized that I was in love with you. That's not really the kind of thing that happens to me once, and now there's another person who I feel the same way about and that's just… doubly scary."

His lips pulled into that lopsided half-smile that Tony loved, and for the moment both of them felt warm in the brisk air of the garage. Bruce wasn't one to carelessly drop the 'L' word very much, so whenever he said it to Tony, it was a sentiment that Tony always took a moment to rewind and replay in his head a few times until it made him dizzy. Alcohol was always a fine option, but Tony could very easily get drunk on those words alone. "You love her, huh?" he asked with a tiny, fond smile.

"Yeah." Bruce said the word slowly, looking away and nodding to himself like he was trying it out, just to see what it was like to feel those things. Finally he seemed to come to a conclusion, and when he looked back at Tony there was something in his eyes that almost glimmered. "I think I do."

Tony was fairly sure he actually felt his heart swell at Bruce's confession. "Yeah, well…" He grinned and then tilted his head forward to catch Bruce's lips in a kiss, moving their mouths together slowly and sweetly until he needed air. "It's kinda hard not to."

###

It only took about an hour of being alone in the apartment for Pepper to realize that she was done with the traditional bed rest for the day.

Granted, there had already been many days spent alone over the past month, so it wasn't like that day was all too different. But it was, for some reason, and she couldn't seem to shake the itchiness and the restlessness no matter where she was. She'd hopped between the bedroom, the living room, the dining area—nothing seemed to do, so eventually she settled on just leaving altogether. Bruce probably would have blew a gasket if he knew, but by Pepper's logic, she'd already done enough moving around in that apartment alone that one more trip down to the communal lounge really couldn't hurt.

It was a slow trip and her body hated every second of it, but after a few stops and several quiet curses, she made it to the shared living room in the heart of the tower. It wasn't occupied, thankfully, which meant she had a few minutes to cool down after all but flopping onto the couch. (Okay, another thing Bruce would have hated to see her do, but she'd already broken quota for that day so she didn't count it.)

Whoever had been there last left the TV on, but Pepper was too busy sinking into the couch and reveling in the comfort she'd finally found to notice what was playing. She didn't realize how much she missed her freedom until she finally reclaimed it, however she decided not to analyze how nowadays her definition of "freedom" meant sneaking from the apartment to a few floors below.

God, she really needed this baby out of her.

It was a terrible thing to wish for given the situation, but she just wanted her freedom and mobility and most of all her life back. Well, she definitely wouldn't be getting her old life back with a baby in the picture, but at the very least she'd finally be able to properly explore the still-sort-of-new relationship with Tony and Bruce without the outside stresses or worries that came with these stupid complications.

She sighed heavily, and the action startled her out of the daze she must have fallen into. She'd sank deeply into the couch at that point, and for the moment she was a little too focused on trying to soothe the restless flutters in her stomach beneath her hands to notice when the couch dipped beside her.

"Hogging my couch, Potts." Clint lowered himself onto the other end of the sofa, leaning over to set a bottle of beer on the end table before he got comfortable. Pepper had wondered who'd been draining the beer supply when clearly it wasn't Tony, and apparently she'd found the answer. "You think you can just steal a man's couch?"

Pepper turned her head where it was resting on the cushion behind her, and gave Clint a wry smile and a roll of her eyes. "I designed this place, and the 12 percent of it that I own includes the furniture," she snarked in return, "so technically, you're hogging my couch."

That earned an amused snort out of Clint, and he took a sip of his beer. "That whole 12 percent thing is actually legit?"

"No," she said, and almost rolled her eyes again. Please, like she would have let Tony get away with that one. "We went halves. I own a lot of things you've probably taken claim to." There was a beat of hesitation, and she looked back at him curiously. "Wait… how long have you been back? Didn't you just leave on a mission?"

"Nah, I got back about a week ago," Clint replied nonchalantly, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "They're shipping me out in another couple days, though. Where the hell have you been?"

"Confined to that apartment for far too long, apparently." Pepper wanted to sigh in frustration, but she held it back. She just hadn't realized how disconnected she was from the outside world nowadays, and it was actually rather unsettling. "How'd it go?" she asked, trying to get him to talk so she could try to worm her way back into the loop a little bit.

"Lame. Boring. Uneventful. Fucker didn't even put up a fight, honestly, it was a waste of time." Clint shrugged and downed some more of his beer. "Most solo missions are… at least for us normal agents who don't fly around in flashy metal suits. Stark's solo escapades always sound like they give you a damn heart attack," he added with a dry chuckle, eyes flicking back to whatever mindless program was still playing on the TV.

"They do," Pepper agreed, following his gaze. "At least he's cut back on that lately."

"Yeah, I guess all it took was a kid to finally soften him up," Clint joked, looking back at her to flash a grin. His eyes looked over her for a minute, stilling on the hand she still had on her middle. "But speaking of that… shouldn't you be, you know, still confined to that apartment? Didn't you just get out of the hospital?"

"No, I got out of there about a week ago. Where the hell have you been?" Pepper's lips twitched into another small smile as she threw his own comment back at him, and Clint just pulled a face in response. "It was only a one-day stint anyway. But… yes, you're right, I should be upstairs but I was starting to go stir crazy up there and needed a change of scenery. You better not tell on me, Agent Barton," she added, quirking an eyebrow somewhat comically.

"Your secret's safe with me, Miss Potts," Clint replied, waving his beer towards her in an invisible, one-sided toast. He took a swig, pausing for a moment as he blinked. "Still having a shitty time, huh?"

Pepper was a little hesitant to answer, mostly because she didn't know how exactly he knew about the "shitty time" she'd been having or who told him, but when she took a step back and looked at it, she realized that maybe it was more obvious than she thought. "I guess you could say that," she replied vaguely.

Clint seemed to take the hint from her answer that she really didn't want to talk about that particular subject, so he just nodded sympathetically before turning his gaze back to the TV. Pepper also turned her gaze back to the screen when Clint did, grateful that he had dropped the subject. Clint always seemed like a fairly private person himself despite his carefree attitude and wit, and that was something Pepper could respect and relate to.

They stayed like that for quite some time, just lounging on the sofa a few feet apart, quietly watching the TV with some easy conversation sprinkled in between. It was comfortable and refreshing in a way Pepper hadn't expected it to be, and she found herself more than satisfied that she'd gone against protocol that day.

Well, "against protocol" was probably the wrong term. She was still resting and remaining mostly immobile, it was just in a difference place that was far better for her sanity. There wasn't any harm being done, and besides, Clint was fairly good company.

"I'm starving," the archer announced after another run of comfortable silence, and he rolled his head on the back of the couch cushion to look at Pepper. "You hungry?"

Pepper paused to consider. "I could eat," she decided, carefully setting a hand on her stomach when her baby seemed to be particularly restless. "I am eating for two, I suppose," she added, her tone and smile somewhere between dry and sheepish.

"Yeah, pretty sure Banner might get a certain someone to smash me if he finds out I didn't feed you," Clint joked, pulling himself up with the intention of going to raid the kitchen. "Anything sound appetizing?" He turned back to look at her after he stretched out his shoulders and back, and watched her shift to the edge of the seat as if she were going to get up. "Hey, no, I got it. Stay there," he said, tone still light until he saw the odd expression that had consumed her face and stance. "Are you, uh… are you fine, Potts?"

Pepper's body had gone so stiff that she very much appeared like a statue, but it was a stance she took in hopes that it would dull some of the unfamiliar pain that had just rolled through her. This wasn't… it couldn't be. She still had six weeks to go, and despite the doctor's warnings, she'd been doing so well—it just didn't add up. However, the logic and math really didn't seem to be on her side when the pain shot through her abdomen again, and she inhaled sharply. "I don't know," she said, her voice much smaller than she would have liked.

If she'd been paying attention, she would have noticed that most of the color had drained from Clint's face as he cautiously sat down beside her. "This isn't what I think it is, is it?" he asked, not quite sure what to do with himself. He felt like he should do something to help her, but he didn't know where to do with his hands or if any attempt at help would even be welcome. "I mean, that kid isn't supposed to come out for another, like…"

"Six weeks." Pepper finished the sentence for him, and when the words left her mouth she felt the terror properly set in. "Six weeks is pretty early, so… it might not be real. This might not be happening. This kind of stuff happens all the time, right? People think they're going into labor when they're really not—" The sentence ended abruptly when another bout of pain rocked through her, and she immediately questioned her ramblings. It felt real, fuck, it felt really real. Maybe it wasn't, though. Maybe she was lucky; maybe she was fine. So with a shaky voice, she said it again. "It might not be real."

"Maybe not," Clint said, just because he wasn't sure how else to make this better. Her obvious panic was easily spilling into him, and it was clouding the hell out of his judgment. Somewhere in the logical part of his brain he knew he should be doing more than just sitting there like a dumbfounded idiot next to a woman who could quite possibly be going into very premature labor, but all he could think to do was fit his hand into hers so she had something to hold onto.

There was a subtle bloom of comfort in Pepper's chest when she felt Clint's rough, calloused hand wrap around hers, but it didn't last very long. As much as she was trying to tell herself that it was fine, that it was just a scare, the pain and panic felt increasingly more real every moment—her pulse was pounding in her ears, and she could barely hear her own thoughts over her labored breaths. Everything was terrifyingly amplified, and every time it seemed to fade for a second, making her think that she was okay, it came back with a renewed intensity, until—oh, god.

"Fuck," she cursed quietly, and if Clint hadn't heard it, the death grip she had on his hand definitely got his attention. "It's real. It's definitely real."

Clint's eyebrows knit, and he wasn't exactly sure if the expression came from worry for Pepper or worry for the bones in his hand. "How do you, uh, know that?" he asked, probably dumbly, because he really shouldn't have been questioning her at a time like this.

"Um." Pepper paused and gulped down the knot in her throat. "My water just broke."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"That's… that's not good."

"No, it's not."

Clint just sat there for a moment, holding her hand and thinking about his this really wasn't how he'd expected his day to go, but he managed to kick himself into shape. He was the only one here right now, and Pepper needed him. "I'm gonna call Tony," he said, frantically shoving his free hand into his pocket to find his phone. In hindsight, he probably should have done that a while ago, rather than waiting until now to remember that he had literally no training in… well, any of this, and he didn't really feel the want or need to put "ability to deliver babies" on his resume.

"No," Pepper nearly squeaked through what was definitely another contraction, and Clint froze in surprise and confusion. "Call Bruce. Jarvis can get Tony, but Bruce—he's going to freak out, you need to call him."

"O… okay." Clint was a little worried by the prospect of Bruce 'freaking out' as she had put it, but he quickly resolved himself when he realized that he'd probably dealt with worse throughout his years. Well, maybe. Dealing with the Hulk was hard enough on its own; dealing with him when he was distraught over someone he cared about, probably worse. Clint managed to shake the thoughts out of his head as he pulled out his phone and found Bruce's number in his contacts, holding the phone to his ear while it rang. Please pick up, he thought vaguely frantically. Dammit, Banner, pick the hell up.

The bones in Clint's hand felt like they were grating together from how hard Pepper was gripping it, but rather than complaining about it he just squeezed in return while the phone continued to ring. "It's gonna be okay, Pepper," he said encouragingly, "I'm gonna stay here with you until they get here. You're gonna be okay. Oh, Banner? Yeah, hi, so…"

Pepper tuned out then, intending to focus on maintaining a steady breathing pattern, but her attention shifted when the couch dipped on her other side and she realized that a very frazzled Tony was sitting beside her.

"The fuck is going on here?" Tony asked lowly, the volume of his voice clearly meant to mask his panic as he slid an arm around Pepper's back. "Jarvis said—is it—it's…"

"Don't you dare say 'it's time.' I've seen too many rom-coms to take that seriously," Pepper replied. She didn't know how she was able to get all those words out under such strain, but somehow the snark was helping minimally. "I'm not ready for this, Tony." Then she said that and her voice finally wavered, and at that point she knew her guard had collapsed.

"Yeah? Get in line," Tony mumbled, rubbing soothing circles on her back as he looked over at Clint. "That Bruce?" he asked with a gesture at the phone, and Clint nodded. "Good. Tell him to meet us at the hospital."

"We're not waiting until he gets here?" Pepper said, doing her best to loosen her grip on Clint's hand. "Shouldn't he—"

"Uh, no," Tony said, hastily shutting down the idea of staying there any longer than they absolutely had to. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that they had already stayed there and stalled for too long, but he was still working on getting himself to believe that this was actually happening. "You're apparently having a baby when you're really not supposed to be having one. We're going."

"Super impressed by how calm you are right now, Stark," Clint commented, some of his panic having drained since Tony got there. "Can't say the same for Banner, though. You might want to get going before he demolishes the city."

"Don't think everything's sunk in yet," Tony muttered in response. Despite what Clint and probably Pepper were seeing, he definitely wasn't calm, not at all. Actually, he was really starting to freak the fuck out, but he was putting everything he had into keeping it together for Pepper. If anything, she needed some kind of stability right now, so Tony didn't exactly have the luxury of letting himself have the meltdown that he was definitely on the verge of having at the moment. "Come on, honey," he said gently, reaching over to pry Pepper's hand out of Clint's and help her up. "Come on, let's go."

With considerable effort, Pepper managed to pull herself up with Tony's help, but that was about as far as she got before an unbearable lance of pain went through her and she wasn't able to hold back the stunned reaction and broken cry that came with it. Tony jumped a little beside her and felt a stab of sympathy pain, but hurriedly pulled himself back together and just held onto her even tighter. "This doesn't feel right," Pepper choked out, and the statement applied to far more than just the fact that everything was happening too fast for her to comprehend. "I—I don't think it's supposed to feel like this—"

"Just keep her in there," Tony sputtered hastily. He didn't mean to squash her words, but he really wasn't equipped to deal with anything else that might be going wrong on top of what was already happening. In all honesty, everything about the current moment was already too wrong for him, and he wasn't even factoring in all the things that apparently had already been wrong in the past several months.

Everything was just too fucking wrong, just when he was finally starting to feel that it might be right.

Somehow, though, Tony managed to find the power within himself to push away his impending dread and put all of his focus into getting to the hospital and letting the doctors deal with whatever the hell was happening. There wasn't any way he could deal with the prospect of her not being okay, and he wasn't about to waste any more time and let that happen.

"Can you do that for me?" he said, not fully away that he'd actually said the breathless words out loud. "Just keep her in there and be okay, just for a little longer, Pep."