In Which Steve Rogers Learns He's Pregnant

Chapter Three

"What you're telling me here is," Bruce pauses, pulls latex gloves from his hands, drops them into the trash before fixing his glasses. "That you're pregnant," He gives a pointed look at Steve. "And it's Bucky's baby?"

Steve clears his throat before nodding. What are the chances of the hoodie swallowing him whole?

"Okay. I don't need context." The Beta pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, taking off his glasses to run a hand over his face. "And you're coming to me with this because..?" He trails off, wanting one of the two of them to answer.

Steve beats Darcy to it.

"You're the only one I trust with this," His hand is moving to his stomach of his own accord at this point. "With-" He swallows hard. "My, uh. Baby."

Bruce goes a little softer around the edges, smiles at him before leading him and Darcy to another room- cleaner, closer to an office. There's no blown up photos of his ass. It's nice.

"You know, I'm not exactly a prenatal doctor, Steve."

"I know. I just-" His hands twist into the cuffs of his sleeves. "I don't know what do here. I can't go civilian, because if this gets out- that I'm pregnant- innumerable sources could use this against me. I'd be putting my baby at risk before they even weigh a pound." Something about referring to the baby as 'it' makes him uncomfortable. So he doesn't. "And I've learned not to trust people easily. And when it comes to the care of my baby- even in-utero- I'm going to be even less likely to do just that. So. There's that."

He's not sure when he started pacing, but here he comes to a stop, leaning heavily on the back of the chair that was offered to him. The nausea is back. Darcy puts it upon herself to grab Bruce's waist basket and put it in the seat of the chair.

"Here you go, big bear,"

"Thank you," He barely noticed the slight sway, how one hand moves to cover his mouth.

"Steve... I'll help you as much as I can, okay?"

His smile is warm. Steve believes him.

"I'll have to consult some other doctors- bring in maybe one person to help here. The most I've ever done with babies is deliver a handful in third world countries."

Steve very suddenly realizes he will be going into labor, and pushing a baby out of his body.

Bruce's waist basket gets some use.

Darcy rubs his back and holds his hoodie strings. She's infinitely more gentle than when he's vomiting after a night of drinking with her. It's weird. He isn't sure if he enjoys that.

"Delivery is still a long way off, Steve, it's alright," Bruce brings him a glass of water and a box of tissues to clean up with, pats his shoulder. "How far along do you think you are?"

Steve does the math in his head as he swallows a drink of water. "Sorry about your trash can." His voice is embarrassingly shaky. "I'm.. I'm ten weeks and five days."

"Oh. You know exactly, then? That's good." Bruce smiles gently at him from where he's leaning on his desk, completely disregards the trash can. He'll handle it later. "A healthy pregnancy is between thirty-eight and forty-two weeks. Which means you're gonna be holding your baby any time between mid December and early January."

Steve nods slowly, tries to wrap his head around the situation, still. He's going to be holding a baby- his baby in less than a year. He and Bucky are gonna have a little boy or girl.

He hopes Bucky wants to stick around. Oh- Christ, he has to tell Bucky.

"In about a week and a half, I'll be able to tell you sex, and if it's multiples."

Steve stiffens, eyes going wide.

Darcy, who's been surprisingly quiet, coughs once. "Yeah- I dunno, maybe avoid the 'm' word until it becomes a reality. One baby is enough of a shit storm for now."

Steve leans into the touch when she scoots closer to him.

"Sorry. Sorry. Please, no panicking, I think the trash can is full," Bruce offers him that same warm smile, runs a hand through curly hair. "I'll get my hands on some equipment, okay? An ultra sound and such,"

Darcy helps him up. It isn't necessary, but it's welcomed.

"Thank you, Doctor Banner." Steve tries to hold his head some kind of high as he extends his hand for a shake. Bruce takes his hand, stands from the desk.

"Any time, Captain. You can call me Bruce, though, really. I don't mind."

"Okay. All the same. Thank you, for agreeing to help. It means more than you can imagine."

They trade a few more words before Steve and Darcy are back in the elevator.

She looks up at him, blows a breath out her nose.

"Now what?"

"I was hoping you'd know."