UNKNOWN GUEST

#122 High Hopes

Steve sighed heavily, leaning against the cool countertop, his mind racing with everything Natasha had just shared. He had listened intently as she recounted the moment she found out she was pregnant, the fear and uncertainty that had accompanied it, and the weight of her decision to keep it a secret. 

She had explained how the world had shifted beneath them when Thanos arrived, how the loss had felt insurmountable, and how the blip had stolen away their chance to even mourn the child they never had a chance to hold.

As her words settled into his heart, Steve placed his palms over his eyes, trying to contain the swell of emotions rising within him. It was overwhelming. He felt a mixture of sadness, anger, and deep love for the woman before him.

 Finally, he looked at her, his voice strained with emotion. "So, it's been five years? And you didn't find any right time to tell me you were pregnant, and we lost the baby in the blip?"

Natasha nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor, fear lacing her expression as she braced herself for his reaction. She could see the hurt in his eyes, and it was unbearable. She wished she could take back the silence, wished she could have found the courage to share it with him.

Steve shook his head, a mix of frustration and sorrow tightening his chest. "Nat, you should have. You should have told me."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. "I couldn't—"

Before she could finish, Steve stepped closer, his hands finding her shoulders, grounding her. He connected their foreheads, his eyes closing as he took a sharp breath, trying to steady himself. "You are grieving, Natasha. We both are. But you endured everything alone. You should have let me be a part of it."

Her heart ached at his words, the tears threatening to spill over. She wrapped her arms around his back, feeling his warmth seep into her, providing a comfort she hadn't allowed herself to seek. "You already had a lot on your plate. You lost Bucky and Sam. I couldn't do worse to you."

Steve cupped her face gently, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "Nat, I love you. You don't have to worry about sparing me from something so painful for you. I can walk with you, love."

The sincerity in his voice melted her heart, breaking down the barriers she had built around herself. "I'm so sorry," she managed to say, her voice thick with emotion.

He shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. Without another word, he captured her lips with his, the kiss soft but charged with the weight of all they had endured. It was a kiss that spoke of understanding, of shared grief, and of the hope for healing. As he gently pushed her back against the counter, Natasha's hands instinctively moved to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

In the rush of the moment, she jumped up, her legs wrapping around his hips, drawing him in as he supported her weight effortlessly. Steve led them towards the bedroom, the world outside fading away as they focused solely on each other. The laundry could wait; right now, nothing else mattered.

As they entered the bedroom, the door closed softly behind them, sealing away the echoes of their past and the pain they had carried for far too long. Steve laid Natasha down gently on the bed, their eyes locking in an unspoken understanding. In that instant, the weight of the world felt lighter, as if they had finally found a way to share the burden they had both been carrying.

With every kiss, every caress, they began to reunite—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. The years of longing, the nights spent alone in their grief, melted away in the warmth of each other's embrace. 

Steve explored the familiar contours of her body, his hands tracing her arms, her waist, feeling the life that surged within her as she responded to him with a fervor that spoke of both love and loss.