The Irony of it All

55

He was real. He was alive. His heart was pounding against her chest. His breath was hot against her neck. It took her a moment to realize she wasn't the only one crying. His own tears were wet against her shoulder and cheek.

"I'm sorry." She cried against him.

All he did was hug her closer, whispering into her ear. "I forgive you."

It was almost what she needed. He didn't blow her off, or pretend it didn't happen. He just forgave her. And she couldn't understand how he could do it so easily.

"You can't."

He let out a wet laugh and wheezed slightly. "Just don't let me go."

They stayed that way until he couldn't stand any more, and she pushed them back towards the bed and then pushed him onto it. Even then, he wouldn't release her.

"Your monitors," she choked out, reaching for them.

He hugged her tighter. "I won't die, Nat. You can be my monitor."

She allowed him to press her cheek to his chest over his bandages where his heart thumped, loud and soothing against her ear. She felt her tears, warm and salty, slip out and tickle her nose and cheeks. Cursing her hormones, and sniffled and clung to him tighter as his breathing evened out.

___________________________________________

Steve awoke, disoriented again. His head felt clouded, as if he'd taken a nap in mid afternoon only to wake up during the night.

Then his mind and eyes focused on the curtain of short blond hair that sat atop his bed. "Nat?"

She turned to him with red rimmed eyes and offered a tight smile. "Hey soldier."

He glanced down to where his monitors had been placed back on him and his IV back in his arm. Then his eyes raised back up to her. He watched her pick at the ends of her sweater. And for perhaps the first time, he let himself really marvel at her stomach.

"I had hoped it was a girl."

Surprised by his words, she faced him. His eyes stayed trained on their baby.

"I just... assumed it was, before you told me. We would have taught her to dance." She didn't say anything. She just listened to him. "I'm happy though," he said, looking up and meeting her eyes. "I'm happy it's a boy. I have no idea how to raise a boy."

She smiled genuinely at that. "But you know how to raise a girl?"

"No," he blushed. "But I was raised with Bucky's sisters. They were a lot less trouble than Bucky was." Her eyes turned downcast, and she felt his hand take hers. His thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

"How are you alive?" She whispered. "I don't understand. I watched you die. They said they dumped you in a river."

"They did." He murmured. His eyes glazed over in the memory. "I woke up underwater. I'm not sure how I was still alive. I think my entire body was broken."

He shook his head, shrugging because he didn't understand it himself. "I kept thinking I had to get back to you. Adrenaline alone pulled me ashore under a bridge. I must have spent an entire day there passed out. When I woke up it was dusk again.

"I stole a car," he continued. "And some food and water. I went back to that building, hoping to find you still there. I found Yelena instead. Or she found me."

Natasha bristled.

"She looked pretty shocked to see me. Thank goodness she didn't seem to want a fight. I don't think I could have survived it. She knew who I was, and where Ivan was taking you. She helped me until she got to spooked and ran away. I haven't a clue where she is now." He looked up at her again. "That's how I found myself on that tanker, taking out Ivan's guards, looking for you."

He paused. Neither of them needed to say what happened next. "What I'd like to know is how we ended up in Wakanda?"

"How do you know we're in Wakanda?"

He gestured around the state of the art room and the view outside his window. "All the purple kinda gives it away."

"A lot has happened in a very short amount of time," she told him.