The Avengers faced an unexpected predicament - not from villains, but from their own meddling teammates. Uncles Tony and Bruce were determined to convince dads Steve and Clint to dress up for their babies James and Francis' first Halloween. Yet, nei...
Warning: This chapter contains a brief mention of past child abuse and parental loss. Comic canon.
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Saturday, 31 October 2015. Afternoon.
Hawkingbird Floor.
Bobbi stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the Psyche costume she had finally settled on. Pepper had sent her two options, but the young mother couldn't bring herself to embody Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty — at least, not anymore.
Growing up beautiful, intelligent, and athletic, Barbara Morse had always been placed on a pedestal — deified. Everyone assumed success came naturally, that she sailed through life without ever struggling. However, every triumph carried a crushing weight of growing expectation, pressing, suffocating her. She had to constantly meet the high standards others set for her — and the even higher ones she had set for herself. Anything less than perfection felt like a failure. To the world, she was flawless. To herself, she was one misstep away from letting everyone down.
Grazing the swell of her stomach, she frowned. What's wrong with me? I should be happy... I am happy... Conflict churned silently within her, her joy as a mother colored by a lingering discomfort. The changes in her body had reshaped her self-image, leaving her feeling... lesser.
Yet, the mirror told another story. The deep V-neckline framed her fuller bust, while the purple sash cinched her waist, highlighting the sea-green fabric that clung to her hips — her alluring curves now even more pronounced. The thigh-length peplos left her toned legs exposed, and the delicate laces of her sandals wrapped sensually around her calves. Her tall, statuesque figure remained intact, with a clip-in bun and long blonde curls cascading down one side, held in place by a matching headband. Motherhood hadn't stolen her beauty — it had enhanced it, though she wasn't ready to see it yet.
Leaving their bedroom, Bobbi found Clint in the nursery, trying to soothe a teething and squirming baby. For a moment, he just stared, taking her in. Despite the colorful costume, or maybe because of it, she looked breathtaking. But Francis cried out, reaching for his mother the moment she came into view. Frustrated and feeling useless, the father quietly left the room, giving her space to calm their son. To the young woman, though, her husband's silence felt like cold indifference.
Sitting down to breastfeed, she held her baby close as he finally began to settle. As the room grew quiet, her thoughts grew louder, until the tears slipped out before she could stop them. "Your daddy doesn't want me anymore," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Unbeknownst to her, Clint stood frozen at the doorway, clutching a pitcher of fresh juice. Her words hit him like a blow to the chest, making his grip tighten on the glass handle. What the hell am I doing? His heart clenched with guilt, knowing he had failed her if she believed that. Taking a steadying breath, he turned away, trying to calm his mind and find a way to make this right.
