I'll Always Love You) Romanogers

Part 11

Nat P.O.V.

He closed the door, and I sat up and ripped the oxygen mask off my face. I could already feel it getting harder to breath, but not anything I couldn't get through, not anything compared to being strangled countless times on missions. I grabbed some of the medical instruments on the counter. Four different bone curettes, a mallet, and some gauze.

As quietly as I could, I pushed the doctors chair towards high window that faced outside. It was very high off the ground, while being two feet long and one foot in height. I could easily get though. I grabbed the four bone curettes and found two that fit the lock very well. I played around with them for a minute until I heard the click. I went to push the window open, only to find it locked from the outside with a wooden dowel. I curse, grabbed the mallet, and began to sob as loudly as I could to cover the sounds of the malled breaking glass.

I saw what could only be Steve's shadow through the crack under the door, it paused. He needed to walk away, I kept repeating to myself in my head. Walk away, Rodgers. After a minute that passed with the speed of tortoise, he walked away. I let out the breath I was holding in, and carefully pulled myself though the window, only earning myself a few scratches. I was out in the open, in a hospital dress, but Little Zygote was safe from them trying to force me into an abortion.

I walked away as quickly as I could, but enough so not to look suspicious. I grabbed a wheelchair from the front, and no one questioned me because of the gown. The chair made the hospital gown much less skeptical to the public's eye.

I wheeled myself away from the ER to the park. It was late enough at night that not many people were here. I knew this park like the back of my hand, and found the familiar tree were I had a small box buried. When no one was looking, I dug down and found it. Inside, there was a few thousand dollars, a gun and ammunition, and a burner phone with a changer. I had plenty of boxes like this all over the world, and I was very appreciative of this one right now.

Wheeling down to the nearest twenty-four hour store, I went in and bought myself a change of clothes. A cheap leather jacket, a plain under shirt, a pain of ripped legging, boots, some makeup, and the nicest wig I could find. The woman at the front checkout had obviously seen many people buy many strange things, and she didn't question me or bat an eyelash. I thanked her and tipped her kindly, and walked out back. There, I changed out in the open (making sure no one was there), applied a heavy amount of makeup, and put on the whig, leaving the wheelchair in the back alley of the shop.

I walked around until I found a small coffee shop, open at this hour, which happened to be 4:00am. I walked in and plugged the tiny, flip phone in. I waited forever, cautiously watching everyone who came in and surveying everyone for patterns. I was a little paranoid, but not without reason.

Eventually, the phone powered up, and I dialed the number and made a call. "Who is this, and how on earth did you get this number?" A familiar voice asked.

Steve P.O.V.

It had been ten minutes. I heard her sobbing now and again, but I hadn't heard her for a while. Dr. Mills had the room all set up for the abortion, and she believed it was best that I go get Nat. I was a little shaken and pretty hurt that Natasha would want to be alone, but I understood her need for space. I had been pacing around, waking up to the door, and walking away, collecting my thoughts.

I know the issue of abortion is so controversial, and I loved Little Zygote, but in this situation, I knew it was what we had to do. Natasha was my world, and I loved this baby, but not at the cost of Natasha. I loved her, and it killed me to do this, to be the one to make this call, but I knew she wouldn't give the baby up. When Natasha loved something, she loved it with all her heart... losing this baby would kill her and she would never make the choice. I would play bad-cop if it meant her living. I thought of her, and I needed to be with her, to let her know I was here for her!

I walked up to the door and didn't knock. I was ready to hold her until she felt okay, and I needed her with me, I needed her. I entered the room, and my jaw near hit the floor. Why she pushed me out made so much sense now. There was glass all over the floor, the doctors chair under the window, medical instruments hanging out from the lock, and no Natasha.

The selfish part in me was relieved. I didn't have to see her pain, our baby was still alive, and I knew Natasha didn't push me away because she didn't love me... it was because she ran away. I kicked myself for not knowing better.

"Dr. Mills," I called, and she came in from her position out in the hall.

She surveyed the scene and knew exactly what happened, "I'll call the director," she responded, and left while pulling out her phone.

I wasn't going to sit around and wait for orders, which I knew I wouldn't like, I was going out to find her. I had no access to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security footage or special access, but I had Starks database, and more importantly, a knowledge of Natasha Romanoff, the woman I loved.