Date: November 22, 2022
Words: 2577

~ Author's Note ~

Happy Birthday Scarlett!!

Lyrics belong to Billie Eilish, I Love You

Everyone is an emotional wreck. You're Welcome.

So... Natasha has a lot of emotions she hasn't dealt with concerning Rose, and we will see a couple of them in this chapter. (A little spoiler, this is not the last time these feelings will be brought up.)

WARNINGS: Mentions of stillborn birth, Mention of abusive relationships.

What the hell did I do?
Never been the type to
Let someone see right through

.
.
.

The overwhelming thoughts are surging through her mind. Every memory she has ever tried to push away is forcing its way to the surface. She can feel the tears streaming down her face, as her limbs shake against her wishes.

The air is tight in her lungs. She releases a choked gasp, vomit slipping past her lips. She tenses, hearing the front door open behind her, but she's too caught up in her stomach churning to straighten up. She is aware of the hand reaching for her hair, and the hand resting gently on her back.

Natasha struggles to find her bearings, but eventually, her stomach seems to settle momentarily. She reaches for the railings aligning the front porch, weakly lowering herself down. She sighs, her emerald irises shining as they meet the man's worried gaze in front of her.

Tony.

He smiles weakly, "You look like a mess."

Natasha chuckles lightly, "No more than you do."

Tony gasps dramatically, "Insult."

The air around them falls silent, besides her breathing hitching every couple of seconds. She can feel Tony's piercing glaze, his worried chocolate irises studying her every move.

"So...," he starts slowly, "They're intense."

Natasha chuckles darkly, "That's putting it lightly."

Tony nods agreeing wholeheartedly, and he watches her face closely as he begins his next words. "And, um, Rose?"

Natasha ignores the ache stabbing through her chest, at the mere mention of her lost child's name. Her eyes fill to the brim with unwanted tears, and soon they start flowing freely down her cheeks. The grief is evident all over her face. But it is the pain Tony notices burning in her eyes that causes an ache to spread from within his soul.

"I didn't...," She struggles to force the words out, "I... I didn't tell anyone about her. Not Clint or Nick. Not even Steve. I didn't tell anybody."

Her breathing begins to noticeably worsen, as her grip on control fades. Tony can recognize the familiar sense of panic swirling within her eyes. Fuck. Why did he run his big mouth and ask her that question?

"Hey, hey. It's okay," Tony starts slowly, "It's okay. You do not need to explain anything to me. Not unless you want to."

He reaches his hand over her own, carefully watching her for any negative reaction. Natasha forces herself to relax, gripping his fingers tightly. She studies the even breaths slipping past his lips and struggles to copy his movements. For a few minutes, she listens comfortably to the silence, willing it to calm her nerves.

"Do you, ugh," Tony starts, capturing her attention. "Do you know a Matt Murdock?"

"Yes," Natasha smiles slightly, "Why?"

"Well, he visited me spontaneously and had some very interesting comments about the accords. Plus, he may or may not have mentioned your name a few times, as he subtly berated me."

The redhead chuckles, "Never underestimate Matt. He and I have a history, but he's a good guy." Her emerald irises meet his chocolate brown, while she answers his unspoken question. "You can trust him."

He nods slowly, "I may or may not also want to pick his brain over the accords. And a couple of other vigilante questions."

Natasha smirks, studying him intently. "Did you find all of that out in the background check or did you do extra, illegal digging?"

He scoffs, obviously offended by the question. "Did you need to ask? Extra, illegal digging."

She chuckles, "Of course."

Tony shakes his head, holding her gaze in a challenge, but they both fail as they burst out laughing. Sadly, the peace only lasts for a few minutes, before his face falls serious. Her laughter weakens under the weight sitting heavily in her chest.

Tony takes a deep breath, cursing himself silently in his head. He forces the strength to the surface, before he asks her another forbidden question. "Does...," He trails off, and slowly his gaze lowers toward her belly. "Does he know?"

Steve. Does Steve know about the baby?

"No," She releases a shaky breath, "I mean, with all of the things happening here. Alexei. Melina. I didn't know how to tell him. And we need to stay focused on taking down the Red Room."

"Nat," he starts off slowly, making sure he has all of her attention. "Taking the Red Room down is important, and we will take them down. I promise you, we will not stop until it's done. But I need you to promise me that you know that, that." He sends a meaningful glance to her stomach, "is important too."

She nods weakly, her eyes full of tears, "I promise."

"Good," he declares, "And you need to know that you are not alone. You don't have to do this alone, even if you feel like you do."

Natasha whispers weakly, "Thank you."

Tony nods assuringly, opening his mouth, the words on the tip of his tongue. But suddenly, the front door slams open. Steve pushes himself forward, his hands shaking against his wishes and his eyes stinging with unwanted tears.

"Is it true?" Steve rushes out, before watching Natasha frown confused. "Are you pregnant?"

Natasha gasps, stepping back instinctively, as his face falls knowingly. Her gaze turns sharply, emerald irises burning with betrayal. Yelena struggles past the urge to tremble in her place, stubbornly forcing herself to ignore the pain shooting through her chest.

"I'm sorry," she chokes out weakly.

Natasha's eyes burn with unshedded tears, her bottom lip trembling in protest. She turns away, trying to relieve some of the pain bubbling from within her, but the weight of Steve's gaze rests heavily upon her.

Tony carefully steps forward, grasping Yelena gently by the arm. "Come on," he commands quietly, leading her towards the door. He sends one last worried glance at the broken couple, silently hoping he isn't making a big mistake, leaving them alone.

XX

Steve's sky-blue irises burn along with the pain surging through him. He studies the redhead intently, while she stands with her back toward him. Her posture is tense, and her fingers are clenching her sides. She looks like a shell of the strong woman he once knew.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks quietly.

She shakes her head, her body visibly shaking at the sound of his voice. He reaches forward, gently using his fingers to grasp a hold of her arm, turning her to face him. Tears are streaming uncontrollably down her face, and her red-rimmed emerald irises are causing the black circles under her eyes to be more visible. He takes a deep breath, trying to center himself.

"Nat?" He pleads brokenly.

"I... I didn't know how," she struggles out.

"So, your...?" Steve asks, his bottom lip quivering.
Natasha nods, struggling to meet his gaze.

"Why did you...?" He tries to force words out correctly, but his mind is spinning, as the news sends a wave of shock running through him. "You could... you could've told me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted... I want to tell you." She stutters over her words, "But with everything going on, we needed to focus on that."

"Natasha, you could have told me." Steve shakes his head, the shock turning quickly to anger. "You should have told me. I don't care where we were, or what we were doing! This isn't something you hide! You should have told me!"

"Steve...?"

He shakes his head, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to. I did, I just was...," she pauses, struggling with her words. "I'm scared."

She is terrified. She is terrified of the pregnancy. It's not because there wasn't a right time she didn't tell him, or because they needed to focus on something else. And even if the pregnancy could be considered normal, she still has the right to be scared. Add on her history with pregnancy and the fact Steve has the super serum that could potentially clash with hers.

"I'm scared!" Natasha shakes her head, "I'm scared of everything! This pregnancy! The accords! And most of all, the son of bitch who shouldn't even be alive! What if he finds out? You heard Melina in there. I can't lose this baby. Not after Rose..."

Natasha shakes her head, as the fresh tears roll down her cheeks. She notices the confusion lingering within his gaze, and immediately connects the dots.

Rose.

He was never told about Rose.

"In the Red Room," she begins weakly, trying to control her breathing. "I was fourteen when I met a soldier. He was captivated by me. We both were using each other for different needs," Natasha shrugs, struggling to take a deep breath. "He would sneak supplies to Yelena for me. Food, bandages, etc. But he didn't hide the fact he favored me over the other girls. Even though he should have, for it would have been safer."

Her voice cracks against her will, all of the training she has endured proving to be useless. Steve steps closer to her shaking body, his fingers grasping gently around her forearm.

"I was fifteen when I found out I was pregnant. I was going to run away, and protect my baby like a mother is supposed to do. So... I told Nikolai, and the next thing I remember is waking up on a table in the med bay, with straps holding me down." Natasha pauses, releasing a heavy breath. "They had beaten him, tortured him. And then proceeded to kill him right in front of me."

She remembers the drug-induced haze, and the shock she tried so hard to hard. It is a memory she can't force herself to forget, no matter how hard she tries.

Madame B nods sharply, guards acting immediately on command. The front one pulls out his gun, leveling the tip with Nikolai's forehead. The broken man struggles against the grips on his arms, tears flowing freely. He has long since lost his composure. At the last second, he turns her gaze around, catching sight of her dark emerald irises.

"I'm sorry," he sobs, as his limbs shake. "I couldn't take it anymore. I'm so sorry, Natalia. I couldn't take it, I'm sorry." Nikolai shakes his head, fear leaking through his eyes. "Я не мог этого вынести." I couldn't take it.

The guard's finger presses against the trigger.

"They let me keep the pregnancy," Natasha begins, "It was obvious Madame was against the idea, but I didn't care. It was my baby..." she trails off, stubbornly trying to force the next words. "Their orders were to begin limited training immediately, and I would have to suffer through routine medical checkups. The doctors always poked and prodded, sometimes in places that were not necessary medically."

Steve tightens his grip, as her eyes flutter close. A dark gaze engulfs her face, while the horrendous memories threaten to invade her mind. She forces her best mask forward, allowing the Black Widow to take over. As the emotions scrub into the darkness.

She hasn't allowed herself to go numb in years.

"About a month before her due date," Natasha begins robotically, "There was something wrong, it was a gut feeling I couldn't ignore. She had stopped kicking and there was blood in my underwear." The young woman takes a deep breath, "She was born stillborn. They let me bury her behind the compound."

Steve whispers, "Nat..."

"No," Natasha interrupts, "I want to tell you." She grabs his hand, a silent but meaningful gesture. "The doctors couldn't confirm what caused it, different theories were made, but nothing concrete. Was it the lack of food? Or something I did? No one had an answer. But that didn't stop Dreykov from wanting to try again..."

Her voice cracks as the last word slips past her lips, an unwanted tilt forming in her mask. It seems these past few years, with the Avengers especially, when she had allowed herself to share a couple of her more personal feelings had done damage to her old training.

"Dreykov can't get our baby," Natasha pleads, "Imagine all of the things he would do. And I can't—," her fingers tighten into a fist, her breathing hitching. "Please, I can not lose one again! I can't do it..."

Steve steps closer, while tightening his fingers around her forearm. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, protectively holding her shaking body. He can feel her tears leaking into his clothes, but doesn't care to push her away. Her breathing is noticeably worsening, and she chokes out a gasp, her head-spinning due to her lungs tightening.

"Please, Steve," she pleads, "Please, I can't... I can't do that again. It hurts. I need it to stop hurting! Please, Steve! Please — make it stop!"

"Shush, It's gonna be okay. I can promise you that I'm never gonna leave," Steve tightens his grip, praying to anyone willing to listen that his words help. He kisses against her hair, as her sobs begin to slow, melting into weak gasps. "I'm here. I'm here, and I am never gonna leave you alone again."

He wants to promise her that whatever happened, will not, under any circumstances, happen again. But that's out of his control. He can promise to never leave, and he never will. Not again. Not by choice.
Steve rocks her gently in his arms, his lips trailing over her head. "What else do you need?"

Natasha pulls away, her emerald irises aflame with a new intensity. "I want him gone."

He nods, a silent promise blooming between them. He leans in, kissing her deeply, tasting the salty tears on her lips. He holds her protectively, closing his eyes as he relishes the peace within him.

They're partners. Always.

.
.
.

There's nothin' you could do or say
I can't escape the way I love you

XX

Next Chapter:

You thought you could go free
But the system is done for

.
.
.

"Why are you doing this?" Natasha questions.

Melina swallows thickly, staring into Natasha's emerald irises. She ignores the stabbing ache spreading within her chest at the sight of those emerald irises glistening with tears. "Why does a mouse born in a cage run on that little wheel?" She croaks out, an unfamiliar burning in her eyes. "Do you know I was cycled through the red room four times before you were even born?"

Something dark and raw settles over her gaze. A pain that travels too deep to be explained with words. The redhead swallows, intimately familiar with the shadows in her broken gaze. Melina is a victim. She is a victim, just like all of the other Widows.

Yelena. Natasha.

She is a terrified woman, trapped under Dreykov.

XX

What do you think? Ideas? Questions?

So... just in case anyone is confused. (And you can always ask questions if you need to!) Natasha does blame Dreykov for the death of Rose. She also blames herself. It's a mix of both.