52-breathin

Being back at the base felt wrong since we didn't have everyone. It was too quiet and we all knew there would be ashes from some people at the base, it was only a matter of finding them. I left the others as soon as the jet hit the ground so I could find my brother's lab and office. My hand dragged against the cool walls as I walked down the halls, well more like limped down the halls. I let myself into his office, the door swinging being the only noise. Light shined through the windows, catching the dust floating in the air.

"Good morning, Miss Stark-Rogers." FRIDAY greeted as soon as I walked inside, making me stop in my tracks. It felt like someone was squeezing my heart, stopping it from pumping.

"Did my brother program you to call me that?" I ask, my throat tightening as I let the door shut behind me. The noise of the door sliding against the doorframe is almost deafening. The bright light coming in from the windows is practically blinding.

"Yes. He programmed me to do it as soon as he got your first letter."

"FRIDAY, is my brother still alive?" I ask, dreading hearing anything but a yes as I walk to his desk. I immediately spot the various pictures that I had sent Tony. Tears brim my eyes, threatening to fall. All of them are in pretty frames on the wall. Steve and I in the snow, Steve and I asleep, Steve and I hugging one another, me among sunflowers, the silhouette of Steve and I- all the ones I sent my brother. The sonogram isn't among any of them, but he still kept all of them.

"I cannot tell at this moment. He is not on the planet."

As anger fills me, I grab the nearest thing to me, a rock paper weight, and throw it as I scream. It hits a glass wall, shattering it. Glass rains down loudly as I run a hand through my hair. Angry hot tears hiss as they roll down my way too hot cheeks. Steam rises from them as they evaporate.

"FRIDAY, tell the others I'm fine. God damn it. God DAMN IT!" I shout, pacing the room. I force myself to calm down, I force myself to breathe. I shut my eyes for a moment, "FRIDAY, record a message for me."

-

Steve opened the door to his and Pey's old room, turning on the lights. A thin layer of dust covered everything. Everything was just how they had left it. The blankets thrown back from when he and Pey had climbed out of bed. Three years ago seemed so long ago. They were so different then. Steve sat down on the bed, taking it all in.

She had left them as soon as the Quinn Jet had landed. They all had heard the sound of glass breaking and heard FRIDAY telling them that "Miss Stark-Rogers" was fine. Steve wanted to go to her, but he knew that's not what she wanted. So he showed Thor and Rocket to some open rooms, leaving the one beside his and Pey's open for the baby. The room was a good size and Steve could imagine them setting this up as the nursery. Pastel colored walls, a big fluffy rug. Too many toys, too many stuffed animals, a book case. Peyton's sitting in a rocking chair with a small blue bundle. Soft words, soft lullabies.

God, it had terrified him when he saw her with the damn gold gauntlet wrapped around her neck. Her hands desperately trying to pull Thanos's fingers away as tears ran down her face, her feet kicking. The way Pey looked down at him-he'd never get that image out of his head. And when Thanos threw her like she was just a piece of garbage, he thought he had lost his wife and his baby in one moment. They way she hit her head against the tree, the blood-the thought made him want to throw up.

Steve sighed and stood, gathering the sheets and blankets on their bed. He carried them to the laundry room, dropping them to the floor as he turned the washing machine on. Steve couldn't do much for his wife, so if he could just have clean blankets and sheets for her, it was something. He put some of the blankets in the laundry machine, pouring the detergent and the fabric softener in as well. He had tossed in a couple of his shirts and a pair of his sweatpants so she could have something to wear to bed tonight that didn't have an old smell to it. She couldn't do certain smells now, her nose was too sensitive.

Steve leaned against the wall and thought of when Peyton had told him she was pregnant. She had walked up to the safe house after being gone for almost two days. Steve has thought the worst, thinking that she was captured and back at the Raft again or that she had ran to be with her brother. Steve knew that she had been feeling sick and was puking, but he had thought she had caught a bug or had food poisoning. He was so mad at the way that she came in, all nonchalant. Steve had jumped into the shower just so he wouldn't scream at her for worrying him so much. He didn't want to drive her away with his anger.

Then he came out of the shower and saw her sitting there on the bed. Peyton was sniffling and beside her was a small blue box that had a white bow on top of it. She looked up at him, almost guiltily. Thousands of thoughts ran through his head, but he still didn't put two and two together.

"You should be yelling at me. I know what I did was stupid. I should've said where I was going." She had told him, her voice scratchy as she motioned to the box beside her, "Just-Just open the box, please." Steve didn't say a word and did what she wanted, carefully opening the box, pulling out white tissue paper until he saw the small piece of clothing. He had set the box aside to hold the onesie that had his old shield on it. She had sniffled again, not looking at him.

"I'm not sick. I'm pregnant, Steve." Peyton's voice was quiet, full of guilt. Emotions had flooded Steve as he looked from his wife to the onesie. He didn't know what to say so he just held her as she started to cry. She told him over and over that she was sorry and he had told her over and over that she had nothing to worry about.

Steve knew that Peyton hadn't want the baby at first. He knew what she did was her choice. Growing up, he was surrounded by young women who had to raise children that they didn't want. Those women were miserable and he didn't want his wife to be miserable in life.

But just like Steve had, Peyton feel in love with the baby growing inside of her. He started to hear her talk to the baby boy, her hand constantly resting on the growing bump. Peyton was happy and then Thanos's children came to Earth. They took her brother and half of the universe's population.

Steve had lied, there was something else he could do.

-

Tony Stark, broken and bruised and covered in Peter Parker dust, sat in the Guardians' ship, eating some rehydrated food as Nebula watched him. Tony's body hurt all over and he knew he was in bad shape. His mind thought of all the people he lost today and all the people he didn't know the fate of, including his sister. God, he hoped that Peyton was okay. He hoped that she staged out of the fight and just stayed safe. Hell, he hoped that Steve was alive, but Tony didn't know. He was too far away to know.

"Incoming audio message." FRIDAY's voice sounded broken as it came through the head of his suit. Tony looked up at Nebula, who was very interested in this message. He didn't think it was possible for any message to come in, but these past couple of days have been full of surprises.

"Play it, Friday." Tony responded, his heart thumping in his chest.

"Hey Tones, it's me. I'm okay, little bruised, but I'm okay. Baby's okay too. Steve's okay. Rhodey, Bruce, Nat, and Thor are okay, even Thor's raccoon friend is okay. We-We lost a lot of people today. Sam, Wanda, Vision, Thor's talking tree friend, King T'Challa, Bucky-It's bad Tony. I don't know who else is alive at this point that we know of-God, I hope you're okay. I-I don't know what I'm going to do if you aren't." Peyton stopped at this moment, her voice filling with emotion. The message was broken in parts, but Stark didn't care about that. Tony was able to relax slightly, knowing that she was okay. Nebula pressed her lips together, looking away to give Tony a moment.

"Be okay, damn it. I need you, we all need you. You need to be here for your nephew. Please be okay. I love you, okay? Be safe." The message ended and the silence filled ship once again, but it wasn't lingering for long.

"You have a sister?" Nebula asked, staring out the large windshield of the ship. Part of Nebula was angry that Stark had his sister while she had to lose hers, but she didn't say anything.

"Yeah. Adopted, but she's the only family I got." Tony responded, folding up the little package of food, trying to make it last longer. He set it aside and just hoped and hoped he'd be able to make it home soon.

-

It's maybe ten at night when I find myself walking into Steve and I's old bedroom. My eyes hurt from all the crying I had done today and the realization that I had left my grieving husband alone had triggered a large amount of guilt to flood my system. He was walked out of the bathroom when I walked in, grey sweatpants on and no shirt. Normally, I would comment on how attractive my husband looked (I mean he looks hot), but I needed something else from my husband. I immediately cross the room and wrapped my arms around him. Steve's arms wrap around me, holding me close. I lay my head against his bare chest.

"I'm sorry I'm a bad wife. I shouldn't have just gone off like that and-and you're hurting too and it's not fair of me to just go do these things! I'm so sorry." I blubber out into his chest as he kisses my forehead. Steve moves hold me so I can look up at him. I don't know if my emotions are being irrational or if this is how I should be feeling.

"You aren't a bad wife and it was okay of you to do that. You just want to know if Tony's okay, I understand that." Steve tells me, instantly making me feel worse about how understanding he is. He cups my cheek, kissing my forehead again. Your father is too sweet, little one.

"I still feel bad." I respond and he sighs, a glint of humor in his eye.

"Well you're going to feel worse because I washed one of my shirts and a pair of sweatpants for you to sleep in tonight. And I washed the sheets and blankets." Steve murmurs, smiling at me. I sigh, shaking my head, resting my forehead against his warm skin.

"You're too good to me. I don't deserve you." I tell him, shutting my eyes. He smoothes out my hair.

"You're having our baby, so it's the least I can do. You hungry? You didn't eat all day." Steve's voice is full of slight worry. He's going to be great dad, an amazing one. I look up at him, smiling.

"I had some of Tony's snacks and drank water." I tell him in response, knowing that he won't like that answer. Steve sighs and looks at me.

"Why don't you shower, get dressed in your pjs and I'll bring you something to eat." He tells me and I nod. God, I love this man so much. Steve smiles and kisses my temple before walking out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I smile and take off my rings and the dog tags, leaving them on the dresser before grabbing the shirt and sweatpants he washed. I walk into the bathroom, heart swelling with adoration for my husband as I take off my clothes.

Immediate hot water feels amazing when you haven't really had it in so long. My eyes are closed as I lean my head back under the stream of water. It feels so damn good. I take the washcloth I had grabbed and I squirt the vanilla smelling body wash on it. Showers are so amazing. Opening my shampoo is what finally solidifies that I'm home. That scent-I'm back. It's like three years ago. My hands carefully wash the little bump with the washcloth. We're home. You don't know it, but we're home.

I get out of the bathroom just as Steve walks in with two bowls of something. He motions towards the bed and I sit down, my back against the headboard and he hands me a bowl. The smell coming from it is mouthwatering.

"It's my ma's stew. She used to make it whenever I was feeling ill. She taught me how to make it so I could make it for my wife one day." Steve says, a small smile on his face. The pregnancy hormones make me give him a watery smile as I realize he must have been cooking for a large portion of the day.

"You never cease to amaze me, Steve Rogers." I say and his smile grows. I take a huge spoonful of stew, hoping that I wouldn't feel sick, and eat it. For once, the baby isn't pissed at this food.

"How is it? Did I mess it up?" Steve asks and I shake my head.

"It's delicious. I think it might be the only thing your son enjoys." I respond and Steve smiles even more. I eat another spoonful.

Eventually, we find ourselves laying down, Steve on his stomach and my shirt pushed up. I smile, my hand cupping my belly as Steve looks at me.

"Hey there little guy. I'm glad you liked the stew." Steve tells the bump. As soon as I told him that the baby could hear him and that it was good for bonding it we talked to the baby, he wouldn't shut up.

"You're ridiculous sometimes, y'know that?" I tease and Steve playfully rolls his eyes.

"Look Mommy is being mean to Daddy, so you gotta be on my side here and say that you enjoy this, kid." Steve teases right back and I laugh.

"I need to find an OB-GYN in the city so we can make sure this little guy is healthy." I say softly and Steve nods. He presses a kiss to my stomach, above where the scar from Ultron is. I've had three babies and this one, this one is the only one that has a chance.

"I love you." Steve says, looking up at me, "I love both of you. More than I love anyone else in this world." My heart swoons and my fingers push his hair back.

"God, I love you so much. We both love you." I tell him and he smiles at me happily. I wish we could have more moments like this, more down time to just sit and be normal people. Hell, I wish I could walk my child to the bus stop in a little suburb. Things like that wouldn't happen. I'd get stir crazy, I can't be away from the action for too long. I don't think Steve could get away from being a superhero. It's embedded in him as much as it's embedded in mine.

I'm not going to pull a Pepper and force Steve to give up his day job. I can't give it up either so why would I force him to stop doing what he enjoys? Just so we can have a simple domestic life? Give me a break. So I just smile and look at my husband.

At least we can have moments like this, eh?