Guest: oh yes it was! And now we face this new beginning!
Fury-Natalia: :) probably an easy guess...but. Oh the joy!
tanchik: reactions will be slowly trickling in as we make this final journey together!
discordchick: oh yes, Clint,with TONY's influence has become quite a little tycoon of his own. Natasha is now in control of all those assets. How will this change her? Will it?
5mairer: hahahahaha. Oh, here you go! No inhumans this time around thought!
amy. .9: these next few months to come (Avenger's time) will be frought with chocolate necessary moments!
Chapter 37
There were many reactions Bruce might have anticipated. Her complete look of blank apathy was not one of them. She blinked, stared at him, the tension released from her shoulders, and she appeared to be relieved. Then again, when a crisis of astronomical proportions came upon her, her natural response was to retreat within a shell of impenetrable emotion from which she would not emerge. After waiting a reasonable time for the news to sink in, Bruce called her name apprehensively. After receiving no immediate response, he repeated it.
Like emerging from a cloud, life returned to her face and she struggled to focus on him. Lifting a finger to indicate the scanner, she asked. "And that will tell you, for sure, if you're right?"
Bruce nodded. He took a few cautionary steps toward her, attempting to determine whether or not she still intended to flee. "It's a three dimensional display system, like the holographic tables we use for image manipulation."
"If something's in there, we'll see it," she restated, simply to be perfectly clear.
"We'll see it," Bruce affirmed.
Her hand dropped beside her thigh, coming in contact with the blanket draped on the bed. She stroked the fabric as a mighty quake rocked throughout her body. It was only once, and quickly she recovered. With her hand gripping the blanket, she asked, "Should I lie back down?"
"Yes, I think that'll work best," Bruce replied, taking another step to her, but this time at an angle. He continued to close in until they were within a few feet, and the doctor set the device down on the tray table.
"Is that why you wanted to feel me again? You thought you might find it?" she asked, making no move to lie down.
"Yes, that's right."
"Why didn't you feel something?"
"It might be too early to do that." He extracted the machine from its case and set it, and the probe, aside.
Natasha looked at it. He couldn't honestly blame her if she decided to go running from the room, only to come back later when she better adjusted to what had been revealed. The fact that she was entertaining such nonsense to begin with, gave him some clues as to why she didn't do just that.
It was possible, but unlikely, that she suspected something like this. New mothers had a strange way of understanding that a change had occurred in their bodies. Be it hormones or something else, she might have guessed that nature changed her. Another possibility was that she had been informed already. Had she spoken with the Sarhorn who healed Clint and Tony both? Bruce could only speculate and wait as Natasha decided whether she was going to subject herself to the next exam or leave.
After a time, she at last released her grip on the blanket and quietly climbed into bed again. Bruce repeated his steps in preserving her modesty.
"You don't need to do that. It's not like I'm shy," Natasha whispered as he dragged the blanket over her again.
Bruce smiled. "If you don't hit me for saying it, then I'll admit you are a good looking woman, Natasha. And I don't need that sort of rise in blood pressure."
She cocked her brow. "Wow, never knew I turned you on."
"Forgive me if I try to be cautious."
"Just say it; I turn you on."
Their eyes met. "If I do, will you promise me not to leave."
"Well, you don't waste any time do you? Profess your love, find me a baby, now you don't want to let me go. I never knew your love was this deep," Natasha said.
"That's right, I have loved you from the moment you appeared in my hut in Calcutta and it has taken until this moment where you've come into my bed in the night for me to realize the depths of my love for you."
For her sake, Bruce continued to play along. He knew this diversionary tactic of hers, though it did bring him a degree of pain to pretend. His long time love, Betty Ross, had finally moved on in the years Bruce had spent on the war effort. She was married to a famous Japanese scientist, Hiro Kayusaga. Banner supposed he never wanted the woman to wait on him to get his life together, and already she had waited for over a decade. Part of him tried to be happy for her. Helping Natasha now, the sentiment of new life, something he could never experience and thought she could not either, brought about a churning of emotions he was not yet prepared to handle. So, down his disappointment and depression went. Pressed into the depths of his mind, only to reemerge and deal with when the Hulk returned next.
He lifted the probe, unfurled it, laid it across her exposed skin like one might situate a belt and, with it in place, he set to calibrating the finer mechanics. His back was to her as he slid onto a part of the bed and began searching.
Bruce threw a look over his shoulder to see how she held up under the pressure of what he was doing. The upper portion of his body blocked the holographic image, even though there was nothing to see just yet. The seriousness returned to his voice as he asked, "If I find something, do you want to see it?"
"I- I'm really not sure," she replied.
Bruce returned his attention to the three dimensional rendering again. "I know it's all a shock, and I understand that. I'm not going to blame you or judge you if you decide not to look."
With one hand, he adjusted the scanner on her flesh. All at once the room erupted in the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of a characteristic, if unexpected, noise. Natasha sat up in surprise, and the sound disappeared almost at once.
"I'm sorry, that was my fault, I haven't used this thing in forever, and certainly not for this. The sound relay was on," Bruce apologized, flicking a switch.
"Was that what I think it was?" she demanded.
Bruce shifted, angling his right shoulder down so he might see the expression on her face. Excitement, fear, joy, shock, there were no words enough to describe the jumbled mass of what she felt in those fleeting seconds.
"Natasha, that was a heartbeat, yes. And it wasn't yours," Bruce confirmed.
Her hand reached out to grasp his bicep. She swallowed a lump of emotion choking her throat. "Ca—can you see something?"
Very slowly, Bruce nodded his chin. "Yes, I can."
The grip on his arm tightened. She pulled him back toward her and slightly to the left, so the hovering image of the display could be within her view. There, above the reflective white light and mirrors of the display screen, grains of golden light coalesced in sweeps and circles. The edges were fuzzy, like the sides of an out of focus picture. The image wasn't quite centered, and yet the peculiar granules of corn silk light still gathered in a distinguishable bean-shaped mass. Two peculiar nubs comprised either end of the form. As small and little as the little alien seemed, Natasha felt at once the depth of what hovered there. The gold light blinked, expanded, and contracted rapidly with every little beat of the growing child's heart.
Bruce never turned away from her, gauging every second what she might do now that the reality lay undeniably in front of her. Would she be terrified? React violently? Scream? Cry? Be filled with joy? Love? Heartbreak? This child wasn't just a piece of her, it was also a piece of Clint Barton, the man she loved, the man who would never be coming back. A child meant being tied down, responsibility, and an entire change to her life. Whatever future she may have foreseen, might alter dramatically if she decided to become a single mother.
"Natasha, I want to know if you are – "
"That's what he meant, isn't it?" she whispered, uncurling her fingers from where they'd forced bruises into Bruce's skin.
"That's what who meant?" Bruce asked.
"Clint lives if I live. By saving me, he's saving himself. That I had a chance to save him." Natasha reached over and took the display from Bruce's hands. She laid back against the mattress with it resting on her chest. The barely formed child within gazing blindly into his golden vortex.
So the Sarhorn had spoken to her, Bruce considered. By fighting so hard, Natasha thought to save the man himself, not the future child he might have.
"He's so small," she whispered.
"It's possible when Clint used the Gauntlet to turn back time, it affected the baby. I couldn't have imagined this, Natasha. When the test showed positive-"
"You?! What about me?! I can't have a baby!" That panic he'd long waited to rear its ugly head, came out at last. "I just...I can't. There are things wrong with me. What if the soldier serum does something to it? What if it deforms? Gets stuck somewhere it shouldn't? What if it only lives so long and that's it, and it dies? What if I lose it? What if I do too much? I'm not a mother! I don't even know my own mother! I can't do this! Bruce, I can't – "
Bruce took the monitors away and slid them to the floor beside her clothes. He leaned down and grabbed her shoulders, trying to offer soothing reassurances where surely Clint himself wished he could have. "Hey! Stop that right now! You are going to be fine, and the baby is too! You have to stay positive."
"I didn't ask for this! What do I do with this?!"
"We'll figure something out. We have plenty of time to do that. You're in your first trimester. There are three to go through."
"I didn't even know that!" She exclaimed, shoving his hands away so she could sit up. She began to inhale swift, choking breaths. Recognizing the potential hyperventilation, Bruce searched around for anything he might find to calm her down again. He rushed across the room to grab a sick bag, ran his way back and shook it open with one hand. He directed the bag over her mouth, where Natasha took over inhaling and exhaling into it.
"I'm panicking, Bruce, now I am panicking."
"I know, and you need to stop it. Stress is not your friend anymore. In fact, it never was, but especially not now. Take deep breaths."
"I can't breathe!"
"You are talking, which means you can breathe. So breathe, and calm down. Let's do some exercises together."
"No! I'm pregnant, not giving birth!" Natasha yanked the bag away to exclaim. Then, all at once she stopped to realize what she'd said. "Oh. My. God. I'm going to give birth to something." Two horrified emeralds pierced Bruce like laser shards.
"Again, cross that bridge when it comes," he told her earnestly. "Honestly, we should focus on one thing at a time, and right now, I think that is getting you to calm down and to think rationally again. I'm not doubting that all this is a little much to take in, but please… Maybe breathe?"
After considering that proposition for a moment, Natasha came to a different emotion entirely. Bruce thanked his quick reflexes when a flying sucker punch sailed for the side of his face. In a fit of hormone-driven rage, Natasha lashed out like a hellcat at him with all those words Bruce remembered hearing during his OBGYN rotation at Princeton Med years before.
Only, he wasn't the expectant father left at the other end of a wife's labor-induced fury. He struggled to remind himself that Natasha didn't exactly mean all the horrible things she hurled at him like a late night truck driver stuck in commuter traffic. Like a pro, he rode out her disgust, waiting for the third stage of shock to settle in.
:(:):(:):
"I'm sorry I punched you."
"Eh gnow oo are."
"Twice."
"Eh heh."
"I've never cried like that. I don't know what came over me. All of a sudden, I just couldn't stop myself. I cried when I lost him, but not like that. Has your nose stopped bleeding?"
"Gnot 'et."
"Can I see it?"
"On-lee ef yoo 'romess gnot too masssh et again."
"I promise."
Bruce pulled his fingers away from the two wads of cotton he'd stuffed up his nostrils. Natasha had made sudden impact with the heel of her hand not moments after he'd blocked her first punch. It took a considerable deal of control to prevent himself from Hulk-ing out and lending unneeded attention to his medical wing. Natasha winced as she inspected her damage to him. The rims beneath his eyes were already turning purple and black with the diffusion of his bruise.
"Oh… I'm so sorry about that."
"Eh gnow. Es fine." Gently he withdrew the rolls of cotton and carefully scrunched his face. More normally, he said, "I don't blame you for a little reaction."
"Can I be honest and say that a part of me actually wanted to rip your face off?"
"That is gross and disturbing, but not unexpected. So thanks, I guess, for not doing that. Hormonal changes are very common, and they will result in mood swings. I anticipate, though, that the surprise of this announcement aided the scope of your reaction. If not, I'd hate to be on the receiving end every time that emotion occurs in the future."
She nodded a little sheepishly. Bruce stood from his stool and pulled off his glasses. The left glass had a spider web of cracks from the assault. Folding up their arms, he set them down on the end table, lucky that she hadn't managed to damage them. He unbuttoned his plaid over shirt, draped it over the edge of his stool, and slipped out of his shoes.
"What are you doing?" Natasha asked, unsure of him.
"Nat, I have been awake for forty-eight hours. I was coming here to finally get some sleep, and then I found you instead. Now, after using all the diagnostic prowess I have exercised in the area of obstetric medicine since my days in medical school, and after finding out that one of my best friends, who is dead, has a healthy looking baby on the way, I find that I am completely exhausted. Not to even mention the fact that my nose is most likely busted. So, if you wouldn't mind, I am going to get in this bed," he crossed to the other side of Natasha's cot with a blanket he pulled off one of the other beds, and climbed in beside her. "and I am going to go to sleep."
"Not in this bed!" she exclaimed, leaning away from him. "What the hell? Get your own bunk!"
"This is my own bunk," he replied, yanking the covers up to his shoulders. "And you haven't slept well, alone, since he died. I think the both of us deserve a good night sleep, don't you?" For now he left out his own need, his desire for closeness to a friend, any friend. Bruce had only loved two people in his life. One was dead, the other completely unattainable now. It wasn't until that moment, he ever compared himself to Steve Rogers.
Natasha's mouth dropped open, and she looked around the room as if she might contradict him but, finding no excuse, she remained where she was instead. She could have just as easily picked another bed and let him have the more comfortable cot, but she didn't want to do that either.
Within a few moments of his head touching the pillow, Bruce drifted off to sleep, leaving Natasha alone in the dark with her thoughts. Bruce was right, even if she'd rather not admit it. She had gotten used to sleeping with a man in her bed. It was one of those things she occasionally considered, but dismissed just as readily. Dwelling on thoughts like that surely attempted to bring her only pain, an emotion she avoided at all costs.
She rolled onto her side, lying back-to-back with the doctor. From this position, she noticed the discarded monitor left on the floor beside her clothing. Listening for a moment, she determined Bruce hadn't woken up, so she reached around and pick up the device. She pulled her own blanket up to her chin, and tucked the probe between her belly and her arm. It took her only a minute or two to find the calibration switches and adjust both them, and the probe position, until the miniature form reappeared in the air.
She tilted the device, searching for the heart-rate toggle Bruce switched off. After first lowering the volume, she toggled the switch on again and lay there, watching the little form floating in the air. The steady whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, of new life pulsed around her.
This was a part of her, and this was a part of him. This little being who appeared so suddenly in her life, had changed absolutely everything about her in a matter of half an hour. She struggled to feel something more than the apathetic concern that originally overwhelmed her. This little life had the power to change her from that cold, emotionless assassin, to something Clint had always wanted in life. A wife, a mother to his child. Though he refused to say those things to her, she knew the truth. He'd never found that same joy he had before when he found out he was going to be a father. She tried to be everything he ever wanted, but that one simple truth would separate them forever.
Natasha was no mother. She'd never even been around kids beside that brief period when Clint had his own. She'd been away on a mission the entire length of Marie's pregnancy. She never knew her own mother. Pepper, probably the closest female friend Natasha had, decided not to have kids right away. So far, that translated to never. Then again, Tony and she had been engaged for about as long as Tony had been an Avenger. At that, Clint forced him into it, and Thor did all the leg work on the proposal itself.
Natasha watched the little life's heart pound away in time with her own.
Clint, what am I going to do now? She wondered.
Poor Bruce ! Betty finds a new man and Natasha slams her hand into her nose.
What is Natasha going to do? Better yet, WHAT IS TONY GOING TO DO?
so much excitement, so many things yet to come!