"NOTHING LASTS FOREVER."
Several months have passed from the infamous fight at the airport in Germany. Since then, newly married Steve and Natasha have been reunited. They spend their days running secret op missions and pass the remainder of the tim...
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" i need to tell you something. "
BREATHING THROUGH ANOTHER GROTESQUE HEAVE, NATASHA ROMANOFF SHUDDERED WHEN HER BELLY CONTORTED IN ON ITSELF. Bile coated her tongue while she retched into the garbage can beside the clinic building. Her stomach churned with menace, roiling in discomfort which caused the sickly woman to let out a pain-filled groan.
She had her arm pressed up against her forehead, feeling the beads of sweat forming on her temples. It soaked through the sleeve of her jacket, coating the leather in moist warmth. She clutched her other hand into a tight fist, noting the grounding sensation of her nails digging into her scarred palms.
"Na-Natasha." Yelena yelled until she managed to spot her older sister beside the building. She slowed her sprint, finally walking until she reached Natasha's side. Yelena's hot breaths hit the back of the red-head's neck which caused her to shiver. More sweat spilled down her forehead, despite the air being frigid around them.
The blonde grasped Natasha's wrist in a calming gesture. Natasha could barely glance at her before feeling her chin quiver in discontent. Everything was just too much and having Yelena look at her with these emotion-filled sage orbs is only making the woman feel 100 times worse.
"What the h--ll was that?" She exclaimed, a bit out of breath from her little sprint only moment ago. Breaths clambered out of her small form in a series of puffed jolts, straining the overall tone of her cherub-like voice.
"Yelena," Natasha whispered, pieces of her were defeated despite her best effort to remain passive given the current situation. "Please don't." She shakingly pulled her wrist out of her sister's grip, feeling her muscles twitch under her placid skin.
Yelena let out a small sigh and allowed her head to drop forward in defeat. Her chest moved under the thin layer of her cotton tee-shirt. Each set of compressed breaths leaving the blonde's chapped lips were like a thunder strike against Natasha's enhanced ears.
Once Natasha felt that she was no longer going to vomit as soon as she stood upright, she started to move far away from the clinic. Tears blurred her vision but she couldn't seem to cry either. The only thing that was on her mind was the baby. Echoes of what the ultrasound technician told her kept ringing in her ears.
Girl.
She's going to have a little girl.
But no- she isn't.
A deep set cackle broke through the tinkling noise of girls giggling. It was deep, ominous. And the ginger practically shivered once she recognized who that voice belonged to. She would pick out that voice anywhere.
