UNKNOWN GUEST

#66 Love Is Not Only For Children

Steve finished his run, his breath coming in steady but deep gulps as he slowed to a stop, wiping sweat from his brow. As he scanned the horizon, he noticed Natasha emerging from the house. Her movements were uncharacteristically unsteady, and she walked right past him without a word, as if he were invisible. His brows furrowed in concern, and he instinctively reached out to steady her when she stumbled over some uneven ground.

"Romanoff, watch where you—" His words trailed off as he felt her trembling beneath his hand. Startled, he turned her fully to face him, his grip gentle but firm. "Natasha? Hey, you okay?"

Her green eyes met his, brimming with unshed tears, something Steve rarely saw. The sight made his heart tighten with worry. "Nat?" he asked, his voice softening, hoping to coax whatever was troubling her out into the open.

She whispered, almost as if she were speaking to herself, "I must have caused him pain."

Steve's confusion deepened. "What are you talking about, Nat?"

Her lips quivered, the dam of her emotions clearly on the verge of breaking. Sensing she needed a moment to gather herself, Steve guided her to a nearby table in the green field, lifting her onto it by her waist. She sat down, looking small and vulnerable in a way that was so unlike the Natasha he knew.

Tears began to spill from her eyes as she spoke, her voice barely holding together. "He was so scared."

Steve tried to piece together what she was saying. "Who? Bruce?" he guessed, but she shook her head.

"J-Jason," she stammered, her voice hitching.

Steve's eyes widened in surprise. "Jason? He was asleep when I came out. What's wrong?"

Natasha looked down, biting her lip as if the words were too painful to say aloud. Finally, she managed, "He... he was asleep. I went in hoping to see you, but I saw him tensing up, and... I tried something I know I shouldn't have. I tried to... soothe him. But I made it worse. Jason... he screamed in horror. He screamed again and again—'go away.' My voice... it haunted him instead of soothing him."

Steve shook his head slightly, struggling to process Natasha's words and the depth of her pain. His grip on her hands tightened just a bit, his touch gentle as he sought the right words. "Nat, look at me," he urged softly. When her tear-filled eyes met his, he continued, his voice low and steady. "Jason wasn't like that because of you. There has to be a reason—"

But she cut him off, her voice laced with bitterness. "This is the only reason, Steve. How can I think about comforting him? It's absurd. I can't comfort anyone; I can only hurt others." She scoffed, the sound harsh and self-deprecating. "They say a woman isn't complete without being a mother, that a mother has this uncanny ability to soothe anyone. And me?" She scoffed again, more bitterly this time. "I can't be a mother. So, how could I have comforted Jason?"

Steve was at a loss for words, stunned by the rawness of her confession. "Natasha..." he began, but she pressed on, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Hmmm. I can't be a complete woman, Steve, because they snatched that ability from me. When you graduate from the Red Room hell, they sterilize you."

The revelation hit Steve like a punch to the gut, leaving him momentarily speechless. He could see the tears streaming down her face, and for once, she didn't bother to hide them. "I lost the ability to soothe someone, to console someone, to care for someone, and... to love someone."

Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment, fighting back his own tears. He shook his head and opened his eyes to look at her with deep sincerity. "You can do all those things, Nat. You're capable of them. You soothed me when I was distressed about Bucky. You consoled me whenever I remembered my past. You care enough for me to take a bullet instead of me. And about love? Love doesn't need any special ability, it doesn't need ages of experiment and training. It needs one moment. Only one moment to blossom."