It Just Happened

What if.

*****Natasha's point of view.*****

"Yes," I said. Why did I say yes? I'm such an idiot I didn't regret it, at least I didn't think I did. I mean it was good, he was good, I just I don't know. "Ugh I'm such an idiot," I kept telling myself while  I walked into my room. I slammed the door closed not caring how loud it was and laid down on my bed. Immediately as laid down to relax I heard a knock at my door. I got up a little too fast and felt dizzy and naustious.

"Oh god," I said to myself as I ran to the bathroom. I sat against the wall and a few minutes later after I heard the knock again, I tried standing up but fell back down as I felt dizzy again.

So instead of standing up to open the door I shouted, "who is it?" trying my best to hold back whatever was in my stomach that wanted to come out.

"It's Clint," the voice at the door said. Thank god it was Clint and not Steve, I couldn't let Steve see me like this.

"Come in," I told him.

He opened the door then asked "Where are you?"

I was about to tell him until I crawled to the toilet.

He must have heard me because he ended up coming in. "Hey... oh my... Nat are you okay?" he said kneeled down next to me. Knowing the way I react when people ask how I'm doing I knew I was going to break down. And as I expected that was exactly what happened. My eyes began to tear up and before I knew it a few falling from my face.

"I don't know," I managed to spit out.

He looked at me wiping away one of my tears, "You wanna talk about it?" he asked trying to make me feel better. I looked at him, then back at my feet.

He asked again, "What happened on that mission? Did Steve do something?"

Once he mentioned Steve I let out even more tears.

"Hey...hey Nat," he said now getting worried.

"I'm fine... it's just... I don't know, I'm the Black Widow, the Black Widow who is not aloud to love or hasn't ever gotten sick before." I looked down in the toilet. Then I continued, "until now."

He looked at me and asked one more time, "What happened on that mission?"

I looked up at him with tears still in my eyes and said, "It just happened." As he looked at me slowly his eyes widened. He got up and said angrily, "I'm going to kill him. That son of a bitch."

"Clint..." I said a little scared. I had never seen him this way before.

"No you don't get to talk, you're throwing up and you've said it yourself before, you never get sick," he said.

Confused, I gave him a puzzling look. I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"Nat that can only mean one thing." He said as he turned and left.

"Oh my... god," I said falling back down sobbing. I couldn't help but think of the worst, "What if I am pregnant? What if I get so sick I can't hide it? What if I can't do missions anymore? What if everyone finds out and they all hate me? What... what if they make me leave?" Thinking so negatively clearly wasn't helping how I was feeling, but I didn't know what I would do. I sat there for a little longer before trying to stand up again. I managed to get up and walk to my bed. As soon as sat down I grabbed the phone to call the only person I trusted more then Clint, Maria.

"Hello," I heard on the other line.

"Hey..." I said trying my best to not cry.

"Tasha are you alright?" she always called me by that name when she knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" she said again.

"I... I need you to come over, I... I think um... I'm... I'm preg..." I didn't get to finish my sentence because before I knew it, everything went black.

"Tasha? Tasha!!" was the last thing I heard.

*****Clint's point of view*****

I cared about Natasha; she was my best friend. I'd always been there for her when she needed me the most. We acted like teenage girls talking about who had a crush on who. Natasha never truly loved anyone. She cared about people but that never meant she loved them. I had never seen her this way before. I had never seen her cry that hard, at least not around other people. She had never gotten sick once in the last 10 years we had known each other. But I knew after seeing her throw up over and over again that it could've only meant one thing. That she was pregnant. I couldn't possibly have helped her though that. I'm just not made for that job. I knew she was in pain and that she would never want this. And knowing how much pain she was in I knew after what he had done that Steve deserved to feel pain as well. I know I would do whatever it takes to make him pay for what he had done. I thought to myself, "I'm sorry Steve, but I have to take care of Natasha, and I don't care what it takes."