Chapter Text
She remembers seeing red. Lots and lots of red.
Red that doesn’t quite stand out like roses or red apples in the market. Red that isn’t cherries on top of their shared sundaes. It isn’t red that reminds her of the intensity and burning passion when she is loved, of swollen lips after kisses. It isn’t the brimming confidence that washes over her when he twirls his finger around her locks of red and whispers into her ear how beautiful she is.
Instead, it is red that sends her into a frenzy of panic, her heart lurching into her throat, a gutted feeling of disarray. Blood. Red that flashes across her eyes when she feels surges of pain and anger. Blood. Red that lingers thickly in the air, the smell of metallic tinge that makes her sick in the stomach. Blood. It is red on her hands, on her face, red that she cannot wipe away no matter how much she tries. Not hers. His. Maybe both of theirs.
Natasha wants to call out his name, but nothing is coming out from her throat. Her voice is suppressed by shock, of what just happened, of what she barely makes out in front of her. She wants to move, but her limbs are betraying her command. She can’t move, not when she’s firmly wedged in between tangled seatbelts and a deployed airbag. Red. So much of red.
“Steve,” She utters with all her remaining strength, pain searing through her in an instant that nearly knocks all the breath from her. She can’t think, can’t focus, even though she hears a few rushed voices shouting all at once near her. Her head hurts. Everything hurts. Her heart thunders against her ribcage fast and loud. The world is spinning. She gasps for air, her breathing irregular, shallow, her entire body trembling. Her chest constricts. Tears prick her eyes.
Steve, her mind screams, but her throat is closed.
Then the voices start to become distant, faraway sounds, the siren in the background seems to fade away even though it is coming closer and closer. Her eyes are drooping, her breathing slowing down. She fights to stay awake, she fights to turn her head to look at the unconscious, unresponsive being beside her.
Ste —
And then everything becomes black.
16 HOURS EARLIER
Natasha wakes with a startling jolt, her alarm piercing through the otherwise quiet and serene room. It takes her a few seconds to adjust to the sunlight streaming inside and hitting the edge of her bed, the curtains dancing slightly to the summer breeze. She swings an arm to the side in reflex, switching the alarm off before pulling the duvet over her head--it is too early to get out of bed just yet--it’s Sunday, for crying out loud, 7 should be considered an ungodly hour on this day.
Natasha almost manages to fall back to slumber when she hears footsteps padding across the room, and the gears in her mind kicks in instantaneously. She pretends not to, pretends she is fast asleep--but Natasha knows that he could see through her every action, so she isn’t surprised when she hears his voice.
“Good morning, love.”
For a few seconds, Natasha contemplates to stay mum. It’s really too early to be up and about, why can’t she sleep in today? Why must her husband be an early riser who wakes up religiously at 5 every single day for a morning run?
“Ten more minutes.” She grunts from underneath the duvet, her eyes still closed even when she feels the slight dip of the bed, the weight of another person on the other side. Natasha knows what he is about to do, and as soon as she thinks that, a pair of strong arms are already wrapping around her torso. Air hits her face one second after, and she winces at the light that she feels even through her closed eyelids. “s’ too early.” She grumbles, voice still thick from sleep.
Natasha hears him chuckling. She guesses that he’s probably looking at her with his goddamn perfect blue orbs, probably judging her for being such a sloth when he’d already returned from a jog around the park while she was still fast asleep in dreamland. “Five minutes?” She opens one of her eyes slowly, her attempts to negotiate foiled the moment she meets his gaze.
“I made breakfast.” Steve says, brushing a few messy strands away from her face. “It’s going to get cold if you don’t eat soon.”
“Hmm.” She hums before burying her face deeper into her pillow. “Don’t need it. Give it to Liho.”
“Nat…” He shakes his head, though there is nothing but adoration as Steve stares at Natasha’s sleeping figure. He figures she must be really tired that morning, judging from how she is acting. He leans down to press his lips on her forehead. “Okay, love.” He relents eventually. “Sleep, then.”
Steve gets down from the bed as slowly as he could, so that the springs of the mattress don’t bother Natasha. He hears her mumbling something against her pillow, and Steve finds himself smiling. “Love you too.” He whispers before going out from their bedroom.
Natasha finally drags herself out of bed an hour later, reaching blindly for one of Steve’s old college t-shirt hanging behind the door. She puts it over her head, relishing in the lingering but faint scent of pine and vanilla. It almost makes her feel instantly better.
When she steps out of the room, she finds herself smiling in reflex. There’s a waft of freshly made pancakes still lingering in the air, the smell so pleasant that her stomach lets out a low grumble of hunger.
“You really know the way to a woman’s heart.” Natasha announces as soon as she reaches the dining area. Steve looks up from his newspaper, already smiling. She settles herself at the chair opposite him. “How did I get so lucky?”
“Shucks,” Steve replies bashfully. “I can’t possibly let my wife starve now, can I?”
“Always the gentleman.” Natasha goes along with his tease while cutting her pancake into smaller pieces. She pops a piece in her mouth and instantly lets out a sigh of contentment. “Can this day never end, please? All this peace, just you and me.”
Steve chuckles. “You say that but in the next hour you’re going to tell me that you miss James.”
Natasha shrugs cooly, unfazed at the mention of their son’s name. “I am positive he’s having the time of his life at Fury’s. He didn’t even call us last nig—"
Before she could finish her sentence, there’s a flash of black that lands on the dining table unannounced—Liho—and before Natasha could react to the sudden addition perched on top of the table, Liho knocks over the glass of milk beside her plate. She lets out a loud shriek the same second its content spills all over the table, her plate and some even onto her shirt.
“Liho!” Natasha explodes, scooting backward in her chair in reflex. Steve leaps from his chair to grab a cloth from the kitchen and returns in a split second to wipe the spilled milk. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He repeats over and over again in an attempt to soothe her annoyance.
She sighs, then points at the shirt she is wearing, his. “This is your favourite t-shirt.”
“Nat, it’s been through worse. It’ll come off.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly.
“God,” Natasha wags a finger at Liho who is licking milk off her paws. “sometimes I just want to throw you out.”
“But you won’t.” Steve puts in gently, still wiping the table. “And you know it. You love Liho too much to do that to her.”
“Love.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Such an annoying feeling, don’t you think?”
Steve just laughs, settling his gaze on her. He could tell that she is cooling off slowly, a small smile forming on her face as she meets his eyes. “How are you so calm and patient all the time?”
Steve grins, then teases. “Well, one of us has to. It’s obviously not going to be you.”
She is already halfway up from her seat. “Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw you out as well.”
“Because I’m right and you know it?” He moves quickly to block her path. “Because you love me?”
“Really? How sure are you?” She smirks.
It’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes. “Would the ring on your finger indicate otherwise?”
“Touché.” Natasha chuckles, sidestepping to get past him. She pauses in her step, turning sideways, her eyes gleaming. “Join me in the shower, perhaps?”
“I thought you wanted to throw me out?” Steve teases again, and Natasha lets out a loud groan before turning away. “I take back my offer.”
But Steve already has a plan of his own, taking two large steps to reach her, then effortlessly lifts her from the floor. Natasha lets out a yelp of surprise. “Steve!”
“Sorry ma’am, I’m afraid you can’t do that.” He replies easily and makes his way gingerly towards the bathroom. He hears the chuckles emitting from her as she wraps her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. “Won’t let you.”
“How unfortunate.” Natasha whispers into his ear, coming off a little too sultry than expected. She could feel it from the way he is already tensing up — it makes her smile at how easy she could still get through him even though they’ve been married for almost 7 years. “Guess you should be thankful that I love you, huh?”
“I seem to recall,” Steve swings open the door to the bathroom in one swift motion, then setting her back down onto the floor, his hands slipping underneath the shirt — his shirt — that she’s wearing. “someone saying five minutes ago that love is an annoying feeling.”
“Just—” Natasha feels her body react to his touch instantaneously, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the sides of her stomach. “ —shut up and kiss me.”
“Much obliged.” Steve murmurs, then leans down to close the gap between them.
After showering, they fall back to their usual Sunday routine; Steve is perched on the living room couch, his sketchbook and pencil in his hands. As he usually doesn’t have much time for his hobby during weekdays, Steve would usually reserve Sundays to draw if James isn’t around for him to play with. It is a habit fully supported by Natasha. She’d been the one who bought the sketchbook for him in the first place after all, encouraging him to continue his hobby and maybe even consider pursuing his long forgotten dream.
Natasha on the other hand, is reading a novel, or at least, attempting to. But she just cannot find it in her to concentrate, having read the same sentence three times without really digesting the context or the words. She lets out a groan, knowing exactly why she is feeling this distracted — it’s been more than 24 hours, but she has yet to receive a call or even a text from Fury. God, Natasha mentally sighs, she really misses James.
Still, Natasha shakes her head and tries to bring herself to focus on the book again, she does not want to give in, not wanting Steve to look at her with that triumph and knowing look on his face as he mouths I told you so. No, Natasha thinks to herself, she will not succumb to the temptation to just pick her phone lying dormant beside her and dial the number she knows by heart.
“Just call him, love.”
Natasha nearly drops the book out of shock, her head snapping up at his direction. Steve isn’t even looking at her, clearly focused on his drawing. “You’re going to break the phone with your stare alone if you don’t.”
She scoffs, but smiles after. Steve continues, “I miss him too, Nat.”
Hearing that is enough for Natasha to put aside her novel, taking her phone into her hand instead. There is no hesitation from her to call her godfather.
“Natasha,” Fury answers after two rings, his greeting curt as usual. He goes straight to the next thing on his mind, “do you know what your son said to me yesterday night?”
She raises an eyebrow worriedly. “What?”
“He said, and I quote, grandpa, if I’m old enough to tie my shoelaces, I’m old enough not to be read fairytales to bed.”
Natasha snorts immediately upon hearing that as Fury continues. “I am a hundred percent sure that he did not get that sass from Rogers.”
She lets out a laugh. “Well...you raised me, you should know.”
“You were generally a pretty good kid, don’t get me wrong. But the words that come out from your tiny mouth…” It is Fury’s turn to let out a low chuckle. “James definitely got it from his mother.”
Natasha is grinning, exchanging looks with Steve who had raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “How is he?”
“Playing with Wanda. Hold on.” Fury replies, and there’s a shift of movement from the other line. She hears soft squealing in the background, Wanda’s laughter ensuing. “James, your mother wants to speak to you.”
Natasha removes the phone from her ears to put it on loudspeaker just as Steve puts his sketchbook and pencil down. “Mommy!” A second after, they hear a clearly excited James Rogers screaming into the receiver, “Mommy! Auntie Wanda said we should go to Disneyland together someday!”
“Hi darling,” Natasha smiles at the same time Steve does. “Did she really say that?”
“Uh huh.” She imagines that James is bobbing his head up and down in excitement. “She said we can go on all the rides and see Mickey Mouse and Buzz Lightyear and Snow White—”
“We can go next year, darling.” Natasha says easily. “Daddy will bring us, right, daddy?” She playfully elbows Steve’s ribs. He chuckles loudly, one hand curling around Natasha’s elbow to stop her. James voice comes in again, “Daddy? Daddy is that you? Did you hear what I just told mommy?”
“Yes, buddy. I did.” Steve replies, exchanging a warm look with Natasha who is all smiles now. “Are you enjoying your weekend at your grandpa Fury’s house?”
“Mmhmm.” James replies. “Auntie Wanda lets me eat ice-cream before bed.”
“James! That’s supposed to be our little secret!” Both Steve and Natasha could hear Wanda’s exasperated sigh from the other line, then Wanda’s voice comes in a lot clearer than before, having taken the phone away from James for a brief second. “It will not happen tonight, Steve, please tell Nat not to kill me. Or maybe...just don’t let her know I fed James ice-cream last night before bed?”
“I can hear you, yknow.” Natasha says calmly, almost seeing Wanda’s face freezing up from the other line. “You’re on loudspeaker.”
Wanda gives a controlled laugh, much to Natasha’s amusement. “Hi, ‘tasha. You know I love you, right?”
“Yes, Wanda.” She shakes her head, though a smile finds its way to her lips. “I hope he isn’t giving you too much of a trouble.”
“No trouble at all, I adore this cheeky little cherub.” Natasha could hear James giggling again from the other line, possibly from Wanda tickling him or pinching his cheeks. “Oh wait, Fury wants to talk to you.”
Fury comes back onto the line. “I’ll send James to his kindergarten tomorrow, so you’ll pick him up, right?”
“Yes, Fury.”
“Good. What time are you two leaving for the Starks’ anniversary party, again? I was wondering if you want James to call you tonight before he goes to bed.”
“Oh,” Natasha meets Steve’s eyes, to which he simply shrugs. “I think we’ll be in the party during his bedtime. We’re leaving at 7.”
“I see, nevermind then.” Fury says. “Guess I’ll just need to find some other children’s book to read to him. I only have books about fairytales and Disney princesses because of you and Wanda.”
Natasha chuckles. “Read him Mulan. He’d love it, I’m sure of it.”
“Right.” Fury mumbles over the line. “He didn’t like The Little Mermaid. I should have known. God, the amount of questions you would ask me when you were a kid...”
Steve casts her a glance fondly as she laughs at the distant memory of her childhood. Natasha remembers asking Fury why Ariel would give up her voice for a pair of legs, when being a mermaid is obviously so much cooler than meeting a boy. Fury had simply stared at her, completely aghast, not knowing how to answer her. In the end, he opted for a because it’s a fairytale, and the princess usually gets to be with the prince. Young Natasha was not impressed with his answer. “Thanks, Fury. Really appreciate it.”
“Well, I need to go now. We’re bringing James to the toy museum today.” Fury announces, his tone happy and light, which is quite unlike him.
“Thanks for watching James this weekend.” Steve quickly puts in gratuitously.
“Don’t mention about it.” Fury replies. “Have fun at the party tonight.”
“We will.” Steve nods, even though he knows Fury cannot see him. “Tell James we love him and we will see him tomorrow.”
“Of course. See you two soon.”
“Bye, Fury.” Natasha says, and the line goes dead. She puts her phone away and picks up her novel again. Natasha doesn’t even realise she is beaming to herself until she looks up from the page and finds Steve staring at her, a soft smile on his face. “What?” She asks in reflex, quirking an eyebrow.
Steve tilts his head to the side, his smile becoming wider. “Remember when you first found out you were pregnant with James?”
Natasha relaxes her expression, smiling slightly at the memory six years ago, how terrified she had been seeing the double lines on the pregnancy stick she’d bought from the drugstore down the block. Her insecurities had weighed down her shoulders so much so that she’d missed the feeling of joy in finding out that she was about 7 weeks along. Steve had been ecstatic when she told him, a genuine reaction she’d expected, but couldn’t mirror.
“Remember when I said you would be a great mom?” Steve continues, reaching for one of her hands. “That you shouldn’t even doubt your capabilities?”
“Only because I have you beside me along the journey.” Natasha squeezes his hand in response, her expression serene; she’d come so far since the day she was worried sick if she could even be capable of loving and caring for another human being. Today, she would jump in front of a bullet for James if she had to, without a question, without any qualms or hesitation.
“No,” Steve disagrees gently with a shake of his head. “You need to give yourself some credit. It’s all you, Nat.”
Natasha doesn’t reply to that. Instead, she lets out a low chuckle and snuggles closer into him, resting her head against his chest. She listens to the steady beating of his heartbeat, wonders if time could just slow down for a moment. Natasha believes that she is at the peak of her life, her happiness meter probably filled to the brim; there is nothing more perfect than this phase in her life.
And nothing, she thinks to herself, nothing could ever go wrong from this point.
When Steve sees Natasha in her evening gown, a classy and long black dress hugging her body and accentuating her figure, his jaw nearly drops open. She purses her lips together, bright red from the lipstick she’d just kept into her purse, when she meets his gaze. “See something you like, Rogers?” She teases, her tone flirtatious.
“I do see someone I like, yes.” He responses easily, handing out an arm for her to hold.
“Aw, you don’t like the dress?” Natasha feigns disappointment. “It’s really expensive, you know. I bought it with Pepper the other day.”
“Really?” Steve arches an eyebrow, then leans down to whisper, “I’d much rather it be on the floor, though.”
Natasha laughs, the implication not lost to her, but places one finger on his chest to stop him from advancing any closer. Then, she smirks. “Save your words for tonight.”
Steve chuckles, and unlocks the front door.
Tony and Pepper’s wedding anniversary party is nothing short of perfect as Natasha has expected; extravagant, fancy, over the top, beautiful decorations around the ballroom in the Stark Tower. When they reached the foyer of the ballroom, they immediately find familiar faces among the crowd--Sam and Maria, Clint and Laura--all four huddled in a corner sipping their glasses of champagne.
As they couldn’t locate their gracious hosts for that evening, Steve and Natasha begin to make their way towards their friends instead. Sam is the first to notice them, giving them a wave of his champagne glass as the others whip their heads towards their direction.
“Quick,” Sam is already speaking once they are within earshot from the group. “help us decide if Stark’s party decoration is better this year or last year. You’re our tiebreaker.”
Clint snorts. “What if they both choose differently?”
“Please,” Sam is smirking. “Steve would choose whatever Natasha chooses.”
Steve simply smiles while Natasha lets out a hearty laugh. “Why is this even important?”
“Just humour the boys, Nat.” Maria replies on their behalf, taking a sip off her glass. “They have nothing else better to do.”
Laura giggles, though she keeps mum. Clint shrugs. “She isn’t wrong.”
“Well,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don’t even remember last year’s decorations. Tony hosted several grand parties throughout the year.”
“Thank you.” Maria says immediately after. “That’s what I said, but Sam insisted last year’s was better, while Clint thinks this year’s more regal and classy.”
“You know how Pepper is, she’d definitely try her very best to make every year’s decorations better.” Clint gives his two cents that Natasha easily agrees with. Sam clears his throat then. “Yes, but last year’s decoration had a more dreamy, whimsical feeling to it.”
“But regal suits them better.” Clint says. “They’re literally royalty.”
“Oh god here we go again.” Maria groans loudly, half rolling her eyes in feign annoyance. Natasha fights the urge to laugh--it is situations like this, the boys arguing while the girls (and Steve) just watch, not getting involved, that reminds her of normalcy, how they’ve all remain unchanged since their college days. Ten years from now, Natasha bets to herself silently, Clint and Sam might just still be arguing over something as petty as party decorations.
“I think they’re both beautiful.” Laura puts in firmly and exchanges a knowing smile with Steve and Natasha. “Is James with Fury and Wanda?” She changes the topic, effectively ending the two men’s childish banter.
Steve nods, but before he could say anything else, someone interrupts their conversation.
“There you guys are!” All of them turn towards the direction of the all too familiar voice belonging to Tony, who is already making his way towards them, his arms outstretched. “What do you think?”
“Lovely, Stark.” Natasha is the first to respond, already smiling. “As expected.”
“Why thank you, Romanoff. Wait, why is your hand empty?” Tony says, then snaps his fingers together at a nearby waiter in a haste. “Excuse me? A glass of champagne for the lady, please.” But Tony pauses, looking back at Natasha. He raises an eyebrow, a look on his face that causes Natasha to also raise one eyebrow. “Unless…”
Clint snickers, immediately knowing what Tony is thinking. Natasha rolls her eyes in understanding before taking a glass from the waiter. “No.” She says firmly. “I’m not.”
“Aw,” Tony’s face falls ever so slightly. “And here I thought you’d finally grant James his Christmas wish from last year.”
Steve shakes his head, merely laughing. Maria and Laura are both smiling, Sam has an eyebrow raised, not quite understanding what is happening. Natasha on the other hand, rolls her eyes even harder. “That wasn’t what he asked for.”
“He didn’t have to.” Tony retorts. “I could tell from the way he was playing with Morgan. So full of love, the potential of being a protective older brother.”
“Well if it happens,” Natasha meets Steve’s gaze, a smile on her lips before she turns back to look at Tony. “You’ll be the first we’d tell, okay?”
Tony punches the air in playful triumph, earning amused looks from Maria and Natasha. “Look, I’m just putting it out here that the fact that I am still not any of your kids’-” He gestures to both Clint and Steve, “-godfather is an absolute tragedy.”
“Tony.” A sigh is heard, and Tony whirls around to find Pepper shaking her head in disbelief. “What are you doing?”
“Pep!” Tony grins, reaching for his wife as he gently places an arm around her waist. “Red thinks our party is lovely. As do the others, I would assume.”
Natasha is the first to reach Pepper, her smile broad as she hugs her best friend. “Congratulations, Pepper.”
When she releases her, Maria and Laura are already waiting to congratulate Pepper for-as Maria would say-surviving another year being married to Tony Stark, both sharing the joy of the happily married couple of almost a decade. Natasha looks over her shoulder to see that the men are now speaking to each other, Tony clapping Clint’s back after saying something to him. Unintentionally, she finds Steve’s gaze on hers briefly, and they both exchange another smile towards each other before Natasha turns away.
She spends the rest of the party thinking of Tony’s words, wondering if she is ready to add another member into their family.
The answer comes to her eventually, it echoes within her heart, loud and clear.
The party finishes a little past 10.30, and after saying goodbye to everyone, Steve and Natasha leave the Stark Tower at 10.45, both contented, though exhausted from all the socialising that evening.
The drive back home is quiet, Natasha’s thoughts are tangled in knots as she tries to construct the simplest sentence she could think of. “Steve?” She begins calmly, turning sideways slightly to look at him.
“Yeah?” He asks.
“I’ve been thinking,” Natasha sucks in her breath. “about what Tony said earlier.”
She sees the small smile appearing on his face, though his eyes are trained on the road. “Don’t mind him, Nat. You know how he is.”
“No,” She shakes her head. “Not like that. Do you think it’s time we, uh,” Natasha frowns, her mind blank. For someone usually so articulate and sharp, she’s suddenly so cautious of the words lingering at the tip of her mouth. “try for another baby?”
There’s a pause, and Natasha doesn’t dare to gauge Steve’s reaction. Her phone buzzes right at that time, which gives her an excuse to look away and at her phone instead. It’s a text from Wanda telling her that James had fun today at the toy museum. She smiles to herself on reflex, then sees that the time is 10.57. She replies Wanda with a quick thanks little sis, then turns off the screen. Natasha casts a careful gaze at Steve again.
“Actually,” Steve finally speaks, meeting her gaze for a split second. “I’ve been thinking of the same thing, too.”
Natasha expels the breath she didn't know she was holding, her face spreading into a grin. If she is to be honest with herself, Natasha didn’t expect she’d have this sort of reaction, this slow excitement building up gradually in her as she realises what it could possibly mean in the future. And this time, she promises to herself, this time, she will do it right from the very beginning.
Her phone buzzes again, probably Wanda replying to her previous text. She ignores the message, but checks the time on impulse. It’s 10.59.
“Do you think James will be thrilled?” Natasha wonders out loud.
“Didn’t you hear Tony earlier?” Steve chuckles, turning the car around the corner. They’re nearly home.
“I think he’ll be a great brother.” She muses, recalling how her son had played with Morgan, how he’d taken care of her even though they’re only a year apart. “I know, because he got his trait from you.”
Steve opens his mouth to reply, but at that very second he does, Natasha sees blinding lights hurling suddenly into their line of vision, the sound of loud, desperate honks piercing through the air, and before she could truly fathom what is about to happen, a lorry truck rams straight into their car from the driver’s side.
It all happened so quickly, before anything is comprehensible. The car is spinning, its control lost. She doesn’t even hear herself screaming, because the sound from the impact drowns everything else. They hit the edge of the road, and Natasha could feel her breath leaving her, her heart lurching forward as the car flips, then smashes into the ground a split second after, coming to an abrupt halt.
She sees red.
Lots and lots of red.
(end of part i)