Give Life Meaning...

Ultimatum

     "The shower is yours," Steve said, holding the towel around his waist as he made his way to the bed. He put on his clothes and sat on the bed, grabbing Alina, who made to crawl to him and sighed a bit. Natasha handed James over to him and went to the shower. His responses to her were still stilted. Steve was angry, and that was an emotion she was familiar with. With the twins in the room, it would not be easy to get him to open up about the situation. They couldn't ignore it forever, and while she preferred to leave feelings in the dark, Natasha knew that would not actively help them. 

     Steve being hurt was new altogether. Natasha showered quickly, hearing the twins starting to fuss, and took a deep breath. It was bedtime, and they had a routine at the compound but not in Clint and Laura's home. Being that they had been gone a few days, Nat figured the kids would like them both to be there. It would also mean that the twins would expect Steve, Nat, or both. Forcing herself to take a deep she focused her attention on Steve. "We have to talk about this," she told him, seeing his blue eyes frost over slightly. "Steve... You... We can't do this. We're a team, remember?"

     "Does a team mean throwing yourself in harm's way?" The muscle in his jaw ticked with pent-up emotion that he had to keep under wraps. "No, you don't get to decide when we talk about it." With that, he got the twins to lie down and left room against the wall for Natasha; he wanted the ability to slip out in the morning. The exhaustion made him weary, but the anger had adrenalin pumping through his veins, making him reasonably sure that sleep wouldn't be easy to come by. His eyes flickered away from the woman who crawled over their bodies, letting the kids snuggle between them. 

     Steve was right, sleep didn't happen soon, and even when it had, he was awake before the sun rose. He was feeling more defeated than angry, and it wasn't a feeling he liked any better. Knowing that he wasn't going to sleep anymore, Steve slipped from the bed, tucking in Alina and James to ensure they were comfortable. Seeking warmth, the two curled into each other, leaving a faint smile on his face before taking a job around the property. However, he hadn't realized that another set of eyes was watching him. 

     "If you're looking for Steve, he's outside with the firewood. He asked if I needed some, so he's been out there awhile," Clint cut in when Natasha finally made her appearance. Dark circles were stark against her pale skin. He was casually leaning against a counter, taking a sip of coffee, and glancing out the window to look at the super soldier. 

     "What makes you think I'm looking for him?" Her tone was icy despite the vulnerability in her gaze. 

     "Nat... You might be able to fool the others, which I doubt you're doing, but you can't fool me," Clint spoke softly. There was no need to get her defenses up. Both the Captain and Widow needed to have a conversation and be truthful without getting defensive. "You miss him. You love those kids like crazy, and you're confused. You're allowed to be angry, frustrated, and confused. You can feel like running away, and all those feelings are valid, but... You have to explain and talk to someone before you say something in front of those kids." 

     Natasha stalked out of the house, pausing briefly on the porch's top step to watch Steve chop another piece of wood. His muscles moved with the movement, captivating her before he turned to catch her eye. "Morning," he merely grunted, and Natasha sighed. She knew he hadn't slept well, but it seemed as if he had been outside longer than previously thought. "We need to talk. Now. We can't put this off, and the kids aren't you here." 

     "You want to talk? Fine. I get being scared about all this," Steve gestured between them and the house, indicating the kids. "I'm terrified. I get wanting to be more than a mom. I know you are. You're the best partner I could have asked for in the field, but that wasn't just 'doing your job.' Nat, you threw caution to the wind. That was damn near suicide." His voice grew deeper with each word as the pain built in his chest. His arms swung down words on another log, nearly splitting the wood underneath the log with it. 

     "I don't know what you expect me to do. Sorry isn't cutting it. I've already apologized," Natasha saw him shake his head with a sigh and look away. "Steve...." 

     "I want you to realize that we're worth living for! You have Clint, the twins," Steve hesitated as his chest hollowed out with the pain. "Me." 

     Natasha didn't speak; her breath caught in her throat as she watched the heartbroken soldier pick up another log to cut. She hadn't been thinking about death while working but supposed it could have come off that way. She also would admit that motherhood had absolutely overwhelmed her. "Suicide wasn't... I wasn't intentionally doing it," she told him softly, having heard Clint come walking out onto the porch, probably making sure neither one threw a sharp object. He was working through his pain so he could come up with a plan. 

     "But you did, and then you got upset when we were. Is this life that awful to you? Do you find it that terrible that you might have to do your job a little more carefully? If it is, then I can take the twins somewhere else. I'll leave the compound," Steve didn't know how he'd protect the kids from Hydra, but he would manage somehow. 

     "You would leave?" Natasha felt her ability to breathe being violently ripped away from her. Motherhood was overwhelming, but the thought of not holding James and receiving his cuddles or inhaling Alina's baby smell... Listening to Steve tell stories and watching him care for them was unbearable. 

     "If it stops you from pulling the stunts you did like on the mission, yes," Steve sounded more confident than he felt. It would do more harm than he'd admit if she agreed. 

     "What are you saying, Steve?" He said it. Natasha knew what he was saying. He was willing to leave the compound with the twins. He would take her babies from her if he thought that was best. "You're making that decision for me?"

     "No, that's a decision you have to make," Steve pointed out, sighing as he lowered the ax and placed it on the ground. His arms had a sheen of sweat, and the pile of firewood had grown large. It would last Clint ages, but his tone was defeated. His blue eyes held no spark when he looked at her, just sadness. "I want you, Nat. I want  you and the twins, and if I can't..." The twins needed a parent, and his best friend's child needed someone. If Natasha couldn't handle it, they had him. 

     "Why is it all so easy for you?" Natasha knew she sounded irrational, but he just gave her the ultimate ultimatum. "How do you fall into the father role so easily? Or do you view them as a mission?" Her tone was snide, and deep down, she knew it was uncalled for. 

     "You think any of this is easy for me?" Steve threw his arms out wide, not used to conflicting with Natasha. "I can't get any proper sleep anymore. I have the twins, added nightmares, and worries. Their needs come first, but they have particular needs, and I'm supposed to be the man with the plan. My plans include where the kids go while we're on a mission or how I do my job. I can't just pretend it's okay if I get hurt and the others don't work because who will be there for the kids? Huh? If something happens to me, what happens to them?"