Date: January 9, 2024
Words: 2579

~ Author's Note ~

Lyrics belong to Sleeping At Last, Daughter

IMPORTANT: This is the last chapter of SILENCE. And I have gone back and forth on whether I should do an epilogue or not. I probably will. But I just want to hear your thoughts...

This has been an incredible journey... I don't know how I will ever thank everyone for their support and words of encouragement. Thank you!

WARNINGS: Fear of abandonment. Childbirth. Mentions of death in childbirth.

The forest grew a little greener
The roots reach in little deeper
The birds all sing a little sweeter
All to welcome you

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Avengers Compound
January 14th — 8:02 AM

Natasha shifts in her chair, turning her gaze away from the young redhead. It's been tense these past few days, with Rose locking herself in her room and barely talking wherever she comes out to get food. And Natasha understands — she did the same thing upon her entrance to shield. She didn't talk to anyone for days after Budapest, needing the time to find herself and learn to look at the world without someone else looming over her.

Rose swallows, sensing her mother's subtle glaze from behind, and she stubbornly ignores the sudden urge to turn around and look at her as well. She tightens her grip on an apple, reaching out to open the fridge, before quickly settling on the box of strawberries. It's her favorite, just like it's Natasha — but she doesn't know that. It doesn't take long to finish cleaning the fruit before it's ready for her to eat, and she turns to walk away, her heart pounding in her chest. But at the last second, she freezes. And turns back toward her mother.

"Dreykov talked a lot about you," Rose begins quickly, shifting anxiously on her toes. And it does not make sense — why this is suddenly so important, the sudden need to talk — she's never acted like this before. Vulnerable. "He was definitely obsessed with you. And I would get angry — so angry every time he brought you up. And he always did. I was your replacement and nothing I ever did was ever good enough for him."

Natasha swallows, "... I'm sorry, Rose."

"I wasn't the one he wanted, and he never let me forget it." Rose shakes her head, trying to find a balance in her frantic thoughts. It's like everything she's wanted to tell her mother for so long is finally coming to the surface. "He said I wasn't good enough. That you left because you had me, because you didn't want me. But I know now why you left the room — it's the same reason all of us wanted to leave. So, I guess, my question is, what was wrong with me that you couldn't take me with you or what did I do? What was wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Natasha replies immediately, pressing herself forward onto her feet, and she feels the tears burning through her emerald orbs at the words leaving her daughter's mouth. Just as tears are leaking from Rose's dark blue irises. "Honey, nothing was — nothing is wrong with you. You're everything I ever imagined you would be. And so much more. When I had you, they told me you died, and I believed them. That's on me."

Rose trembles, clenching her fingernails into her palms, while her mother slowly raises her hand toward her cheeks. It's so foreign: soft, gentle hands brushing the tears away. And with a simple touch, her carefully crafted mask falls to pieces. A weak whimper slips past her red lips against her wishes, and she allows herself to be wrapped in her mother's embrace. It's a comfort she's never received before — and it's... it's nice.

"I always wanted you, Rose," Natasha continues softly, wrapping her arms around her daughter. And it's awkward — the big bump making hugs and cuddles hard — and unfamiliar, but it feels right and settles her racing heart. "Don't ever believe I didn't. And you are enough and special in your own right, baby. You're so smart. Beautiful. And I noticed the way Kate praises the very ground you walk on. She loves you. I love you, Rose. You're my baby."

Rose sniffles, biting her lip, causing Natasha to be reminded just how young her little girl is. She is so strong and brave — fighting against the vulnerability threatening to overwhelm her — though she's still a child. Still full of insecurities. "But you didn't raise me. I'm not going to be your baby, not like this new one will be."

Natasha gasps, her hand following Rose's pointed glance towards her belly. "Rose, you are my baby. It doesn't matter if I watched you grow up. I'm always going to love you, that's never going to change. The new baby won't change that — I'm still going to be here. And you can always talk to me, about anything. I love you. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make you believe that."

"I'm going to do whatever it takes to survive." Rose chuckles weakly, "I used to tell myself that. It helped with all the darkness and chaos. But I think I want to start living, not just surviving."

Natasha smiles, "That sounds like a good idea."

XX

January 17th — 11:11 PM

Natasha grimaces against the incoming contraction, tightening her glance at Steve's hand. It's been a long fourteen hours, complicated by the fact her body is burning through the meds faster than she's allowed to take them, and Dr. Amari is worried about her fever spiking. And she's so tired. Everyone's tired. But it seems the little one is taking its sweet time.

Luckily, everyone is content to stay in the waiting room, while Steve and Melina accompany her to the delivery room. Natasha's been through this before — and she was alone. Scared. Now she wants Steve to hold her hand and tell her she's doing a great job, while Melina wipes the sweat off her brow and tells her she's strong. She's vulnerable. And for once, she's welcoming the help offered.

It's like everything is finally coming together. Her family. Ohio. The Avengers. Rose. She has the people she once thought she would never be worthy of. But through their love and patience, it's beginning to feel real. She has a mother and a sister. Rose. Peter. Steve. And the Avengers. It's a group of extraordinarily chaotic people who became a family. Yes, there are problems — people don't always get along — but the team has learned from their mistakes.

The accords are being constructed in a new form — one suitable for everyone — and the press are slowly coming around to their presence. Even a few people have spoken in their favor. It's a new beginning — one they weren't sure they would ever receive without a type of casualty demanding a change of view. And maybe in a few years, once the team is fully settled and the baby's a little older, Steve and Natasha can go and find a nice cabin by a lake and relax. It would be big, have bedrooms for anyone who wanted to visit, and an art studio for Steve.

A perfect paradise. They could be happy.

Natasha gasps, groaning as her belly and back tighten painfully, while she shifts restlessly along the sheet. Her palm travels down to the base of her bump, instantly connecting with Steve's free hand, as she tries to focus her attention on his worried and attentive blue orbs. He smiles lightly, not even grimacing at the fierceness of her grip.

"You're doing great," Steve insists, lowering his head to rest his forehead against hers, offering a sense of comfort.

"Okay, Natasha," Dr. Amari begins calmly, but firmly, "I know you want to push, but you need to wait a bit longer."

Natasha groans, nodding her head reluctantly, while squeezing her eyes shut in a weak attempt to free herself of the wave of agony ripping through her pelvis. Melina presses a wet rag on her neck, the cool water a nice pleasure to contract her flaming skin. But the relief is short-lived, the contractions tearing through her body one after another.

"You're doing great, baby," Steve praises, tightening his grip on her palm, "Just a little bit longer, and then we'll have our baby. You can do it. You can do anything. Just a lit–."

"Shut up," Natasha grits through clenched teeth, "There is a head tearing through my vagina. If you keep talking and saying it's only going to be a "little bit longer", I will bite your head off. And I don't want to bite your head off, so please shut up. Please."

"Okay," Steve nods calmly, accepting her terms with no protest, and he brings up his free hand to brush through her red locks as if she didn't just sound like she could kill him from where she lays — and he one hundred percent believes she could if she wanted.

Natasha stares into his stunning blues, as a sudden surge of emotion emerges within, causing tears to spring through her emerald orbs. Fuck — she loves this man. Every fucking piece of this perfect specimen.

"I'm scared," Natasha admits weakly, struggling through the unexpected tears, "I can't lose this baby, Steve. I can't go through that again. And what if it needs more time? I still had a couple of weeks to go."

"Me too," Steve replies honestly, "I'm terrified, baby. But we have so many professionals here in case something goes wrong — and they're all here with one goal: keeping you and our baby alive and healthy. Nat, I can't promise nothing going to go wrong. I'm not going to do that. But listen to me, everyone here is going to do their best to make sure everything goes smoothly. You are not alone."

Natasha nods, words lingering on the tip of her tongue as another contraction tears through her body. Dr. Amari's strong voice cuts through the air, "Alright, Natasha. I want you to push."

"You got it, Nat." Steve encourages.

"Come on, big girl," Melina exclaims.

And she pushes and pushes. Her body adapts to its natural needs. The baby's in position, the pressure unbearable, while its head brushes against her pelvis. She can hear the soft words of encouragement being spoken through the air, but the fog in her mind consumes her. The smell of blood and bleach traveling through her nostrils.

"Why isn't she crying?" the panicked teen asks, gasping tiredly from where she lays. But none of the Widows answer — one fretting over the purple and blue infant in her arms, while others begin to clean the mess of blood. "Answer me!"

Natalia gasps, sobs slipping past her lips, once she manages to catch a glimpse of her little girl — who doesn't cry and take a single breath. She's purple and blue. And the redhead turns her orbs toward the door, immediately locking glazes with dark black irises. Her bottom lip trembles, tears flowing down her flushed cheeks, but that does nothing to move the Madame forward. There's no sympathy written along her master firm lines. There's nothing, but disappointment.

After hours spent pacing this tiny cell, her body trembling under its duty — a duty it's much too young to handle. And there's blood, so much blood. But she had continued, for the promise of seeing her little girl was enough to get her through. It doesn't matter now. The dream is nothing but a fantasy.

"No, no!" Natalia cries, her mumbles going ignored, "Let me hold her. Please, I want to hold her. I need to hold her. I'm her mother. Please, let me hold her."

But nothing.

The widow takes the infant out the door, and doesn't look back.

"There you go," Dr. Amari encourages, smiling, "One last push."

Natasha nods, shaking her frantic thoughts to the back of her mind, and pushes with everything fiber in her being. Until finally — finally — the baby slips free of her body. Natasha gasps, falling on the sheet with a tremble. And she feels Melina's hand travel gently over her sweaty skin, the air caught in her lungs until the sounds of wails travel through the air.
And Natasha cries. Tears flow freely down her flushed cheeks.

"I'm so proud of you, my big girl," Melina whispers.

Natasha smiles, watching through bleary eyes, as the doctor moves closer with Steve a couple of feet behind her. That was the deal. He stays with the baby no matter what. Melina stays with Natasha no matter what. And Dr. Amari has her arms full of a tiny infant, traces of fluid smeared on its skin.

"Here you go, Mama," Dr. Amari smiles brightly, "It's a boy."

"A boy," Natasha whispers lovingly, her arms gently positioning the baby against her chest. And he's perfect. Ten fingers and toes, a head full of blonde hair, and a cute little button nose. Steve lifts a finger towards his son's face, trembling emotionally as he softly traces his cheeks. And the little boy, moans softly at the unfamiliar touch, opening his eyes to the world around him.

"He has your eyes," Steve whispers in awe.

Natasha chuckles, "And your cheekbones."

"He's perfect," they whisper simultaneously.

James Samual-Clinton Rogers.

And they hold him for hours. Their family joins them with laughs and tears. Tony will deny it to all who ask, but Natasha saw the tears shining within his chocolate orbs and the look of wonder on his face as Pepper held the baby. Clint is the same, but he doesn't bother hiding his tears or the big smile he sends in her direction, proclaiming "I'm proud of you, kid."

It takes a couple of tries before Wanda or Peter are willing to hold him. James smiles at both of them, settling into their arms naturally. Wanda smiles softly, genuinely for the first time in months with a loveful haze over her eyes. Peter whispers gentle promises to James, while the little boy stares with wide emerald eyes.

Sam and Yelena are next. A competition stirs as they argue effortlessly over who James will like more, "Auntie Lena" or "Uncle Sam" — it was really funny - and even Melina became involved as she proclaimed loudly that his favorite will be "Nana". And soon, everyone in the room is saying they believe themself to be the favorite. It's hilarious.

But Natasha's favorite memory of the day — besides the first time she held James — is when Rose cradled the baby gently in her arms. It's obvious the teen is nervous, her dark blue orbs meeting Natasha's gaze every couple of seconds, and the older woman smiles softly, whispering words of encouragement.

Then the teen switches her attention toward her little brother, and the baby is staring at her with a small smile brightening his face, emerald orbs sparkling with life. And Rose melts — a soft, smile travels across her lips. "You're kinda cute for a fat little guy."

This is her family.

Her daughter. Her son. Steve.

The Avengers. Her mama. Her sister.

And finally, Natasha can breathe as the chaos dies down. A silence bringing forth a calm to the violence. This is everything she's ever wished for and so much more.

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The weight of the world's a little lighter
The stars lean in a little closer
All because of you

XX

~ Author's Note ~

What do you think? Opinions? Thoughts?