Into the War || A Captain America Love Story

46

TORI

I step into the Avengers Headquarters, pulling the sleeves of my purple long sleeve shirt to my wrists. It's been an hour since Steve left to come here, and I still feel nauseous. But other than the knots in my stomach, I'm feeling much better.

A strong smell of paprika hits my nose as soon as I exit the elevator. Vision must be cooking. I smile as I watch him questionably staring down into the pot, slowly stirring it. I cross my arms and approach him, the paprika burning my nostrils.

"You're getting better, Vision," I grin. "Does Wanda really like paprika?"

"I think so, but I am not sure if she is telling me the truth," Vision says sadly.

"She probably loves it," I reassure him. Hey, it's a nice gesture. It's like when Steve cooks for me.

"Hey, Tori— God, you look awful," Tony says, coming from one of the hallways.

"Thanks, I-I'm sick," I mumble, staring down at the floor. I laugh softly. "It's not contagious though."

"God, I'd hope not," he shudders.

"Gee, thanks for the sympathy."

Steve turns around the corner, flinching at the sudden smell of paprika. I giggle as he comes to me, holding my shoulders and glancing me over with concern. "Are you all right? Are you feeling better? Are you okay?" he questions me.

I just laugh at his constant worry over me. "I'm okay, Steve. I'm feeling a lot better."

He sighs of relief. "Thank god." He glances over at Vision. "Do you need help, bud?"

"Yes please," he sighs.

I shake my head at the two men, both of whom cannot cook.

"Hey, kiddo, can we talk real quick?" Tony asks me.

"Yeah, of course," I hum.

My brother leads me to a large and empty room down the hallway from the boys. I stare at Tony with a hand on my hip. I try to keep as straight of a face as possible, but I have so many emotions that I'm having difficulty keeping inside: pure joy, pain, et cetera.

He paces the room, trying to come up with words. His arms are crossed, and clearly a lot of feelings are coursing through him as well.

"Spit it out, Tony," I eventually say.

Tony glances up at me, putting his arms by his sides. "I just received a lot of news."

"And that is?"

"Well, scientists in Belgium found a way to wake up the Eloise chick, which they did and she's up now. Secondly, this made Anderson spill a bunch of info that says every single attack that will happen with every detail."

I smile. "Yeah, you're welcome for the idea."

"Thank you," he breathes. "But that means we have a whole lot of missions coming up. Ross has already informed me when and where those will take place. The first one is in two days."

My smile fades. "T-Tony," I whisper, "I-I-I can't go on the mission."

His ecstatic expression transforms into confusion. "Wait, you can't?" he scoffs. "What do you mean can't?"

"Can not, I cannot go on the mission," I say in a low voice. My heart hammers against my ribs and the knots in my stomach tighten.

Tony is beginning to become enraged. "'Can't go?' You're sick, Tori. Just because you're sick you think that you can't go? Victoria, that's just vain."

I clench my jaw and close my eyes. You promised yourself that you'd tell Steve first. I know I did, but Tony's not going to let me step out of this room until I give him a better, honest excuse.

I try to hold back a quavering breath as the memories from this morning flood in.

As soon as I'm dressed and Steve is far from home, I truly begin thinking. I've been feeling awful for a while now. It started on the chopper when I made the deal with Anderson and I felt extremely nauseous, which never happens. Then I started feeling extremely odd, like I wasn't myself. It didn't really show until last night when I couldn't eat because of my different taste. Then I felt peculiarly exhausted out of nowhere. Today I found out that I can't eat without throwing it up shortly after and that I apparently get emotional when that happens. Plus, my period was late. They're all the common signs.

I went to the store a few moments after my quick hypothesis to find something that could test my theory.

I take in a shaky breath as I stare down at the counter. I grip the edge with white knuckles, waiting for results. This is the third one I've done, so it should really tell me the truth. I don't even dare to blink as the results fade on to the tiny screen on the plastic stick.

Two lines. Two lines, just like the other two.

I fall onto the floor, covering my mouth with a hand as I begin to sob. I lean against the wall, smiling and crying. It's happened. My god, it's actually happened.

"I'm pregnant."