Music is "Cossak Lullaby" by Natalya Faustova.

Picture is Glory and baby.

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"For you, a thousand times over."

- Khaled Hosseini

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CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

Tick... tock.

The clock is counting down.

Tick... tick... tick...

"Avengers, assemble!" Natasha had shouted at the small group. "Ultron is back."

That's all I remember before my water broke.

Terrible timing, I know.

A nervous sweat trickles down my forehead as I squeeze Pietro's hand. I've insisted several times for him to run, run and get that bastard before he gets away, but he won't leave me. Why am I not surprised?

"You should go," I whisper as he picks me up and runs me to the nearest hospital, arriving just seconds after taking off from the X-Mansion. The blaring of sirens rings in my ears, and the lights of distant fires and explosions occupy most of the people around us. All I see is him.

This is it. It's time.

I twist my engagement ring around my finger absent mindedly. I knew this would be hard, painful, agonizing, but I'm terrified. The shock of Ultron sent me into labor, that much I know for certain, but it's two weeks until my due date.

Pietro shakes his head frantically, his big, blue eyes glued to my green. "I am not leaving you here alone."

I give a small smile before a rippling pain jerks through my abdomen, nearly sending me off my feet. "Shit!" I gasp, grasping Pietro's arms. I look up at him and chuckle softly. "Help me get into the hospital? It's almost time to welcome our new family members."

He nods fervently and swoops me up in his arms, carrying me at an almost human pace inside the busy hospital.

"What's wrong?" a nurse asks, coming up to us as we enter the emergency room.

"She is going into labor," Pietro says, trying to remain calm. "She is two weeks from her due date, twins."

The nurse pulls up a wheelchair and asks Pietro to set me down in it. Once he does, she wheels me off towards a hallway. Pietro is right next to me the entire time, not releasing my hand. Thank Frigga he's a fast healer; I think I'm breaking his hand.

"When did the contractions start?" the nurse asks.

I shake my head, my mind going blank. "I-I-I don't know. Just a few minutes ago. I heard some bad news that shocked me and then my water broke."

The nurse rolls me into a room with a large table and helps me up onto it. "Sir, I'm going to need you to stay right here with your wife, okay? We're short staffed because of the Brotherhood of Mutants. I'm going to go get a doctor." She turns to me. "While I'm gone, change into the hospital gown laying on the table. Your husband can assist you. You're going to be just fine, Miss..."

"Glory Northern." Another contraction hits hard, and I squeeze the life out of Pietro's hand. "Gah! Hurry, please!" The nurse rushes out of the room, going to retrieve a doctor.

Tick... tick...

I turn to Pietro and attempt to reclaim control of my breathing. "Ultron, he's back! He's back!"

Pietro places both hands on either side of my face to calm me, shushing me. "Shh, shh, Glory. Breathe. It is okay. It is okay. You are safe. We are safe. The Avengers are handling it."

"They could barely handle him once," I whimper, tears trying to fall. "They lost you. I couldn't... I can't..." I pull him close and bury my face into his shoulder.

"You will not," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "I will be right here the entire time. I will not leave."

"I'm scared, Pietro. This is such a bad time."

"No time is a bad time to have the twins," he says, smiling. "It will be okay, Возлюбленная."

I nod into his neck, and he helps me change into the awful hospital gown. "You need to call my mother and sister. Tell them I'm going into labor soon."

Pietro nods, and the nurse and another woman enter the room. "Hello, Miss Glory. How are we doing?"

"About as good as can be expected, Doc," I say, flinching as another contraction hits.

She pulls on rubber gloves and turns to Pietro. "Are you her husband?"

"Fiancé," he replies, his eyes not leaving mine, "and I am staying. So do not attempt to get me to leave."

She nods and then turns her head towards me. "I'm going to see how dilated you are, and then we can see when you will have the twins, alright, Glory?" I nod, and she checks under my hospital gown. "I see you're about eight centimeters dialated. It shouldn't be more than a half an hour before we get you to start pushing, okay?"

I nod, breathing deeply in and out to keep from panicking. "Okay, alright, I can do this."

"This is your first, I assume?" the doctor asks.

I nod. "First and second, evidently."

"Do you have names picked out?"

I turn to Pietro. "We have a couple ideas, Pietro and I. I have a feeling we'll know when we get to meet them."

The doctor nods. "Well, Miss Glory and Mr. Pietro, I'm going to leave you in the very capable hands of Ms. Sam Clark. I will be back the second you're fully dilated, alright?" She gives me a friendly smile. "Feel free to turn on the television to pass the time."

"Thank you," I say as she leaves.

My nurse, Sam Clark, turns to me, and says, "I need to make a couple errands around the emergency room. If you need me, for anything at all, press the red button on your left, alright?"

"Thank you," Pietro says, giving her a smile.

"Any time, and good luck."

After she's gone, I turn on the television. Just about every news station is covering the battle between Magento and his Brotherhood verses the Avengers and X-Men. Several buildings already have craters in them, and more Avengers are arriving by the minute. I never thought I'd see the day when Steve Rogers and Tony Stark would fight on the same side again. They're like a well-oiled machine. Once you get out the few kinks, they go back to working together as smoothly as they did those few weeks ago. Before the Superhuman Registration Act. Before the Brotherhood of Mutants. Before Ultron's return.

"Боже мой, что они собираются взорвать город пытается бороться с ним," Pietro utters to himself in Russian. His arms are crossed as he takes a seat beside me in the chair beside my bed. His face is stern, worried, conflicted. His sister fights out there, alone, without either him or her love, Vision. She may not even know of his well-being. The last we heard while eating at the pizza parlour was that he awoke, but only to deliver a warning.

"Yeah," I whisper, eyes glued to the screen. "Whatever you said, I agree."

Tick...

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Minutes pass like hours, and yet seconds all at the same time. Time seems to drag by, but fly like a bird. Perhaps I'm crawling to the finish line of this pregnancy. Both nervous and excited, it's a beautiful contradiction.

But the time does arrive, and it's a beautiful thing. Besides the screaming and shouting and crying, both pain and joy running through my system, the ecstasy I know I will feel when I hold my twins in my arms clouds the pain and misery of the current moment.

It's going to be worth it. They will always be worth it.

Pietro does everything I hoped he would... and more. After changing into a hospital gown so he could stay in the room while I give birth, he's done everything the doctor asked of him. Sit down, hold her hand, talk to her, don't mind the screaming insults because she's in pain. He takes it all and never once leaves my side.

As far as pain goes, this event is the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I'm not going to sugar coat it. I feel like I'm being run over by an eighteen wheeler... while on fire... over a bed of legos... with spikes coming out of them... in hell. when they say that giving birth is a pain experienced closest to when burning at the stake, they're not lying. The experience was unpleasant to say the least.

These hours of pushing both twins from my body drag by. I feel like it will never end. My hair is tangled and sweaty, my eyes are leaking tear after tear, I'm terrified of multiple things, and it's taking everything in my power not to use my powers to launch everyone in the room to Asgard.

But the first tiny sound of a little baby crying takes all that pain, all that suffering I went thought for three hours and makes it worth it. Who would have known that a mini me could have changed my entire perspective on something so agonizing.

Tick... The clock strikes 10. The first twin, my daughter, is born at exactly ten in the evening on June 16, 2021.

... Tock. The clock strikes 10:12. The second twin, my son, is born at 10:13 p.m. on June 16, 2021.

Happy tears are the only ones that fall as I hold my babies in my arms. Pietro leans down to place a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads, mumbling something in Russian. "My little Ангел and my little Истребитель."

"What did you call them?" I ask in a raspy voice, eyes glued to the little ones wrapped in the blue and pink blanket that my mother made for them. It's big enough to wrap around the both of them over their assigned baby blankets from the hospital.

"My little Angel and my little Fighter."

I smile, turning my face up to him. "We still need to name them, legally, you know."

He rests his chin on my shoulder. "What would you like to name them?"

I take a long look at their little faces. The little boy wraps his hand around my finger. This one is going to be a mama's boy. The doctor said that the younger twin was small, more fragile. She said it was normal for a premature baby, especially a twin, to be small. He will grow out of it, though they will be keeping him under close watch. His brown curls are thicker than his sister's, but no less messy. His eyes are closed, he's sleeping soundly after a good ten minutes of crying. "What about Steven?" I ask. "I've always loved the name, and Steve is probably my best friend besides you."

Pietro smiles and nods fervently. "Steven it is."

"What about a middle name?"

He bites his lip and thinks. "My mother almost named me Dmitri. What about Steven Dmitri Maximoff?"

I grin from ear to ear and kiss his cheek. "It's perfect. I love it."

Pietro smiles down at the little boy with pride. "I love it, too."

"What of the little Angel?" I ask him, smiling at the little girl, whom the doctor said was in perfect health, even strong for her size. She has a few red curls a top her head, just like me. Her eyes are a brilliant turquoise color, and she has the cutest rosy cheeks.

"What about Aspen?" he asks, softly.

"I don't know if I could call her Aspen everyday and not break into tears," I admit. "I'm not healed enough, not yet. What about Aspen as a middle name?"

Pietro nods. "Of course."

"What was that name you said you loved? It meant gracious?"

"Ksenia."

I smile. "Ksenia Aspen Wanda Maximoff. A bit of a mouth full, but perfect." I chuckle. "It's a lot to live up to."

"She will," Pietro smiles at me, and then at the twins.

I sigh and lean into Pietro, resting for the first time in hours. He takes Ksenia from my arms. I keep Steven since his iron grip on my finger has not relented in the slightest. "They're perfect," I mumble, staring at our new babies. "Absolutely perfect."

"You did amazing, by the way," Pietro says, kissing me softly. "That was a long couple of hours."

I sigh. "Tell me about it. It was worth every moment, though." I smile at him as he rocks baby Ksenia in his arms, looking at her like she's the entire world he revolves around. "I love you, Pietro Maximoff."

He squeezes my hand and runs his finger over my ring. "I love you, too, Gloria Northern."

"Now all we need to do is get married," I chuckle.

"One step at a time," he says, and we hear a knock on the door. "Come in," he whispers.

My mother, Rebecca, and my sister, Bex, enter the room with balloons and several wrapped boxes. They smile and throw their arms up. "Congratulations!" Rebecca whispers to me, leaning down to kiss my cheek and give me a small hug. "Who is this?" She looks down at Steven in awe.

"This is your grandson," I say. "This is Steven Dmitri Maximoff."

She holds a hand to her mouth and tears form in her eyes. "He's beautiful, Glory."

"Would you like to hold him?" I ask.

Rebecca looks surprised as she takes a seat next to my bed. "You would let me...?"

"Of course! Just be careful not to wake him. He's a crier." I gently hand over my son to his grandmother. She takes him into her slender arms and rocks him back and forth, softly.

"I'm so out of practice with this," she says, sadly. "I can't remember the last time I held a baby."

I smile. "What do you want to be called?"

"What?" She looks at me, confused.

"What do you want them to call you? Grandma, Grandmother, Granny, Nana?"

"Oh, wow. I didn't expect this. Um..." she pauses. "I think Nana is cute." She looks down at Steven again. "Hi, little one. I'm your Nana. It's very nice to meet you." Steve grabs onto one of Rebecca's fingers. "That's quite a grip you have there," she chuckles.

"He likes holding onto women's fingers," Pietro says, handing off Ksenia to Bex to hold for the first time. "Flirting already. I will have to teach him." He shakes his head as we laugh.

"That is Ksenia Aspen Wanda Maximoff," I say, after Bex asks.

"Quite a mouthful," she jokes, cooing at the little redhead.

I roll my eyes. "Each name has a lot of meaning. We didn't want to rid of any of them."

"I can understand that," Rebecca says. "Thank you, both of you. Thank you for inviting us. I wasn't sure you would."

"I said I would, didn't I?" I smile at her. "You're family, now and again. These are your grandkids. Your first."

She smiles teary eyed at us both. "You'll make wonderful parents."

"Thank you." I take Pietro's hand and look up at him. "I think we will, too."

END CHAPTER NINETEEN.

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Russian: "Боже мой, что они собираются взорвать город пытается бороться с ним."

English translation: "My God, they're going to blow up the city trying to deal with it.