Can We Keep It?

Quite a Momentous Occasion

"(Y/N), Sam will cover you from the air while you get to the survivors and make sure they're stable enough to move them out. Clint and I have ground cover, so you should be safe to do what you need to do and call for evacuation whenever you're ready. Questions?"

"One sec," you said, holding your hand in the air to excuse yourself. A brief wave of nausea took you out of play momentarily and by surprise. You couldn't help but feel mortified when you ran behind a tree to throw up, returning only a few minutes later and feeling much better. "Okay, I'm good to go, Cap."

Steve looked at you and the spot where you had just been, then back to you, completely confused. "You okay? That didn't sound too good."

"Yeah, sorry guys. I woke up this morning with some kind of stomach bug, but I think I'm all good now." Slinging your supply pack over your shoulder, you pulled out your weapon and signaled the team to move in. "Alright fellas, we need to wrap this one up fast, I've got a hot date."

"Right! It's your anniversary, isn't it? Wow, I can't believe it's been a year already," Sam said, shaking his head as he pulled down his goggles over his eyes.

"Neither can I, Sam. Neither can I."

~~~

Thanks to your teammates, they made certain that the mission was completed as quickly as possible so that they could have you back home at the tower in plenty of time to get ready for your anniversary dinner. You had time to shower and apply your makeup, put on the new dress you had purchased for this occasion, and still had spare time to lay out your husband's clothes to complement your own outfit. When you glanced at the clock, it already said 7pm, but you had planned to meet here at 6.

He was almost an hour late now, so you tried to call him one more time. He had likely been stuck in another meeting that had run far too long, but you hoped that he would be able to answer his phone. It rang and rang without an answer until you finally hung up, completely frustrated. You threw your phone on the bed and decided to give yourself one last look in the mirror to keep yourself occupied until he either called or showed up.

Just as you applied a little more mascara and a fresh layer of lipstick, your phone finally rang from his number. You answered with the least annoyed voice you could manage, "hey, it's about time, I've been waiting for you."

The reply on the other end of the phone wasn't from the voice of your husband, but another male tone that you didn't recognize. After several minutes of listening without saying a word, when you were finally asked if you had any questions or needs, you clumsily lowered yourself to the floor to sit against the side of your bed and immediately called the only person you wanted to see.

"Uncle Tony," you said quietly with a tremble in your voice, "I need you."

The banging on your door was almost instant, but you had no strength in your legs and no will in your body to move to let him in. You could barely produce enough air from your lungs to call out for him to enter.

"FRIDAY, get me in right now," you heard him say anxiously from the hallway.

Tony paused for merely a few seconds when he saw you, looking dressed for a night out, but with large tears streaming down your cheeks. "Sweetheart, what's going on? What happened? Why are you crying?" He hurried to you and dropped to his knees at your side, putting an arm around you and pulling you to him.

"Honey, come on."

"He's...he's..." you tried to take a deep breath, but it only sounded weak and shaky as you gasped between your words. "I've lost him, Uncle Tony. He's gone."

"Who's gone?" Once the words had left Tony's lips, he knew immediately whom you had meant. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard against the lump that was building in his throat; he didn't know how to handle a pain like this. "Oh, shit," he whispered, "(Y/N), what happened?"