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This was not how this day was supposed to go.
(Name) had gone to the doctor to address the issue of the mysterious vomiting and sudden fatigue that had started plaguing her since her last mission, fearing she might have been poisoned. Only the doctor didn't tell her she'd been poisoned. He told her she was pregnant.
In the words of her favorite speedster, she did not see that coming.
To suddenly go from married with no kids in a high risk job to married and expecting in a high risk job was rather jarring for her. She now not only had to worry about her own safety but also the safety of an unborn child that was suddenly tethered to her by no choice of its own. Her child. Clint's child.
It didn't truly hit her until later in the day when she went to HQ after trying to call her husband nearly twenty times. She found the rest of the Avengers huddled in the command center. Good, she thought, no need to track him down then.
She burst through the doors, saying, "Clint Barton, you better have a good explanation for dodging my calls." The rest of the team turned at her entrance, wearing indecipherable expressions. Her internal alarm bells went off. Something was wrong.
"I'd say he does," Tony commented, resulting in an elbow from Natasha and disapproving looks from Steve and Bruce.
More alarms went off inside her as she noted the lack of a certain archer that she really needed to talk to. And now. "Where's Clint?" she asked. "Wasn't he supposed to come back from his mission today?"
Steve let out a sigh, a look of sudden sympathy replacing the previous look of disapproval coming onto his face. "(Name)...," another sigh, "Something's happened."
Her stomach dropped. "What happened?" She was all business now.
"He was made. His cover was blown and now he's being held by the target."
She wanted to scream but she didn't, only taking a steadying, deep breath. Of all the days Clint could be kidnapped, it had to be today? On the day she found out it's not just them anymore, he has to go and get himself snatched up by some crazed smuggler or whatever the hell this person was? She and whoever was in charge of making these things happen to them were going to have a talk about a thing called timing.
(Name) must have been silent for too long, as Bruce suddenly piped up in a voice that was laced with concern, "(Name)? Are you okay?"
"I want everything you have on this guy and I want it now. Send it to my office and don't bug me unless you have something important to say," she stated in a voice so calm it surprised even herself, considering on the inside she was totally not calm.
"(Name)-" Steve tried to butt in, probably with a comment about how she should sit this one out.
Like hell she was going to do that. "No, Steve. Unless you're going to say something pertaining to the son of a bitch who has my husband, then don't say anything. I'll be in my office." She turned and walked out of the command center, heading down the hall. As soon as she rounded the corner, she ran into the nearest bathroom, locked the door behind her and promptly proceeded to throw up in the toilet.
This was not how she envisioned this day going.
* * * * *
It had been three days since (Name) had been told Clint had been kidnapped, and she was doing just fine. And 'just fine' roughly translated to working like a mad woman, scouring for any file on this kidnapper's father's grandfather, looking for anything that could help. It also included not thinking about the fetus currently growing inside her because, if she did that for too long, she'd start down a spiral of anxiety and self despair that would only end in her fighting back tears and throwing up in the nearest available container.
But she wasn't doing that so she was fine. For now, at least.
There was a knock on the open door, causing her to glance up long enough to see Steve standing in the doorway. Turning her gaze back to the file in front of her, she said, "Unless you have news, you better leave." This was the standard response she'd given to anyone who entered her office. Most of them ended up leaving.
"Actually, I do have news," Steve stated, causing (Name) to set her papers down and look up. "Tony and Nat managed to get an old psych eval of this guy. I thought you'd want to read it." He held it out for her to take, which she did.
As she opened it, she asked, "Are we any closer with finding his location?"
"JARVIS got a ping on one his trackers a while back. We're hoping once it's better computed, it won't end up being another dead end like the one in his arrow bag was."
She shook her head. "I still don't understand how that man has so many trackers on his person."
"Well, it probably saved his life," Steve told her gently, a subtle way of reassuring her that he would be coming home safely.
(Name) managed to give him a small, grateful smile in return. It was then she wanted to tell him about her pregnancy. Hell, she just wanted to anyone about it. There was a moment in which she'd been tempted to spew her secret to the hard of hearing, elderly janitor that never seemed to know where he was. She ended up going back to her office after that to dive back into work again, deciding she'd worry about the issue later. Yeah, procrastinating has always been a bit of an issue for her, and apparently it applied to major life events as well as not wanting to do her paperwork.
"(Name)? Are you okay?" Steve asked in a concerned voice, pulling her out of her thoughts.
She nodded. "Yeah, just tired is all." It wasn't a total lie, as she'd slept maybe a few hours in as many days.
"Maybe you should go home and get some rest. We'll call you if we find anything."
(Name) shook her head, "I'm not going home until Clint is here. Until he's home, I'm not home."
He gave her a nod, as if he understood where she was coming from. "Okay, well, you know where to find me if you want to talk." He turned and left the room, leaving her alone once again with various files as well as her thoughts. God, she wanted Clint home more than just about anything for her sake and for their child's.
That thought still always left her kind of breathless. Their child. She hated the circumstances in which this was happening but, with their way of life, was there any other way for this to happen? And it wasn't a bad thing, not at all. It was just stressful and rather harrowing, especially when she realized her husband may not come home to be a part of this.
It didn't help that the longer she read on in the file, the more hope she felt her hope dwindle. This man, Marcus Blomberg, was notorious for killing first and asking questions later. Very few of those he's kidnapped have ever made it out alive, and those that did were never quite the same afterwards.
Putting her head in her hands, exhausted and teary-eyed, she whispered to no one, "Oh Clint... I need you come home. I could probably do this without you but I really don't want to, so please just.... Just get your ass home safe."
* * * * *
It was day four and she had been starting to effectively lose it when Natasha had practically run into the room with news of Clint's location. (Name) had been glad for the interruption for reasons besides the content of said news. She'd fallen asleep for the first time in about a day, which resulted in a weird, rather horrifying dream.
The dream had included an imagined future where Clint had never come home and their child, whom she pictured as a son with an incredible likeness to her husband, was asking questions as to where his father was. Needless to say, she was glad when Natasha had shaken her awake and saved her from the immense guilt those blue eyes gave her.
"Nat said you had something," (Name) voiced quickly as soon as she entered the main hub of headquarters, Natasha not too far behind.
"We finished tracing that ping we got yesterday," Steve told her.
"And?" she prompted impatiently.
Tony gave her a smile as he said, "We got him."
Her frustrated expression dropped as she looked at him, for the first time almost hopeful, "You got him?"
"Yeah. Well, we know he's there. We sent agents to the location about two hours ago and they confirmed a sighting. He's alive, (Name)."
She let out a long sigh of relief. He was alive. For now, her brain helpfully supplied. Shaking that thought from her mind, (Name) asked, "What about the compound? Can they retrieve him?"
That's when he shook his head. "It's set up like a factory building, disguised as a flooring business, but that's only a front. The compound is highly modernized and, according to the recon done, there's advanced tech everywhere. Though that isn't the problem."
"Then what is the problem?"
"The security, They have more manpower than we have available agents in the area. Sending them in would be suicide."
(Name) didn't like that answer. "Then mobilize more agents. Recruit some from here and send them out there, make it a fair fight."
Bruce noticed the tension she was exuding and decided to step in before it escalated to something worse. "(Name), the tech there was very advanced. It was a miracle we could get this recon team under their noses, let alone twenty more agents flown into the area in the next hour. You know what will happen if Blomberg finds out SHIELD is trying to interfere."
She internalized her anger as Bruce began to speak to her. The last thing they needed in this crisis was for Bruce to Hulk out. And, besides that, he was right. This had to remain as stealthy as possible. They couldn't send the agents in there. They needed to come up with a Plan B.
"Why don't we go rescue Clint?" Thor asked. "Are we not more equipped than these other mortals to handle this?"
"We can't do that for the same reason we can't send in more agents," Steve said. "If we fly into their airspace, we could trip off their security and put Clint even more at risk."
"Then we don't go there," Tony stated.
This caused everyone to turn to him with eyebrows raised. "What do you mean by that?" Steve asked after a beat.
"I mean we don't go there. We hack his systems, take them down and then send in reinforcements. Bam! Less stupid and more effective than any other plan we've talked about today."
"Except for one thing," Natasha suddenly spoke up. "We can't hack him."
"And what do you mean by that?" Tony questioned.
"I've been trying to get inside the system since this conversation started and nothing. If I try and go any farther than I already am, they'll know I hacked in, which means-"
Steve finished her sentence, "That would also put Clint at risk." The group once again lapsed into silence as they tried desperately to come up with a plan that could save their friend.
That's when (Name) was struck with an idea. "Do they have phone lines you can hack?" she asked, the cogs in her mind still turning as her plan continued to come together.
"Phone lines?" Tony laughed as Natasha began typing away on the keyboard. "Nobody's had phone lines since-"
"Yes, they do," Natasha answered (Name)'s question, effectively interrupting Tony.
"Wha- Why does a man with an advanced technological base have phone lines from the early two thousands?"
"I don't know... for aesthetic?"
Steve turned to look at (Name), switching topics, "What're you thinking?"
"I'm thinking you need to get me on the phone with this guy," she stated. "I've been reading anything and everything about this guy. I can get to him, if not convince to let Clint go."
"Wait, you're going to negotiate with this guy?" Tony exclaimed.
She shook her head. "I'm not going to negotiate with him."
"Then what-"
"You'll see." She left it at that as she looked at Natasha, who nodded as she went to work on hacking the system. The others fell silent, leaving only the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard to fill the large space.
It was only about thirty seconds before (Name) began pacing, unable to stand still. What if she couldn't convince him to let Clint go? What if, because she called, he killed Clint? What if Clint died because of her?
She was pulled from her thoughts by Natasha's voice. "I got it. I can call the closest phone to the ping in a matter of a few commands. Are you ready to do this?" It was as if she could sense (Name)'s every thought and trepidation.
(Name) hated how easily Natasha could read her. She nodded as she picked up the phone, which was built into the console, and waited for Natasha's signal. A few taps and a nod later, the phone was ringing in her hands. She gave a final prayer to every deity that could possibly exist as she stood there, hand gripping the phone tightly, waiting for someone to answer.
The ringing stopped as the familiar sound of a phone being picked up. There were sounds of shuffling before an all too familiar voice came through, sounding too calm for the situation at hand. "Hello?" came Clint's voice from the other end.
She let out quiet, involuntary breath of relief. "Clint. You're alive, good. That's- That's really... good." Clearing her throat, she asked, "Is anyone in the room with you?"
There was a moment of silence before, "Yes." Another pause before, "And I think he wants to talk."
(Name) nodded, though she knew he couldn't see it. "Put him on the phone."
As if on cue, there came the rustling sound of a phone being quickly moved before another voice was heard on the other end. "I assume you're calling about the not-so-secret agent you were just speaking with?"
"As a matter of fact, yes I am. I'm calling to tell you that you need to let him go." Okay, (Name) was a tough girl, but even she thought that sounded pretty weak. This whole thinking about what bad things could happen if she screwed this up thing needed to stop.
Or, a thought suddenly struck her, she could play her nerves and current situation to her advantage. She'd read a lot of things in those files over the past four days, and there was something that stuck with her. It was nothing considered 'major' by SHIELD standards but she was determined to use it against him.
The man on the other end laughed, "I don't need to do anything, sweetheart. If you think I'm going to let him go just because you tell me to, it's not going to happen."
Well, better to try and fail than to never have tried at all. She waited for a moment to pass before asking, "It's Marcus, right? Marcus Blomberg?"
"Wow. Someone has access to the Internet. Do you really think that's going to scare me?" he asked sarcastically. "How long did it take you to find that information? Two minutes?"
"It took about as much time as it did to find out about your father."
That sentence had him silent. And, though she couldn't see him, she imagined the arrogant look she'd been picturing permanently etched onto his face sliding off as if it were debris flowing downstream. There was another beat of silence before he spoke again, and this time he sounded more angry and definitely strained. "I don't know what you're talking about."
A small smirk took shape on her face, knowing she had him now. "I think you do. Your father, he was a military man, wasn't he?" The silence on the other end encouraged her to continue. "Well, according to my numerous sources, your father was indeed a military man, a decorated one by the looks of it. He got medals for all of the things he did for his country. He was even awarded one posthumously, am I correct?"
An audible growl was heard as Marcus hissed, "You know nothing about my father."
"You're right, I don't. But I sure know a lot about you," she stated with certainty. "I know that you're an only child. I know that your father died when you were three, so you never knew him. And I know that you're bitter because of this fact and that's why you joined the military as soon as you turned eighteen. You joined to make your father proud. Only, they discharged you about a year later."
"Shut up," another growl came from Marcus.
"Out of all the things to be discharged for, you were discharged for a failed psych eval?"
"Shut up!" he panted as his rage took over. "Do you want your friend to die? Because I could kill him. I could kill him and this conversation would have been pointless. And I don't like having my time wasted on such pointless endeavors."
"You won't kill him," (Name) said, somehow managing to keep her creeping fear out of her voice. She had no idea how this confident exterior was still standing. She'd have to figure out who to thank later. Right now her focus was needed here. This man was a bomb waiting to go off, if his psychological evaluations didn't tell her that already. One wrong misstep and it could end in disaster. And it would be as dramatic and catastrophic as her anxiety-fueled was making it out to be.
A scoff this time before the question, "And why is that, sweetheart?"
"Because, that agent- that man- you have is my husband and you wouldn't want to leave another child an orphan like you were when your father died." All eyes in the room whirled onto her in disbelief as they realized what she'd just said. She waved a hand, telling them to forget about it for the time being.
The silence stretched on for a full minute. "What are you saying? You expect me to believe that you're this man's wife and that you're pregnant? Do you think me that much of a fool?"
"You don't believe me? Ask him. Put me on speaker-phone and ask him. He'll vouch for me. It's the truth." (Name) was pretty sure she was breaking all sorts of rules. She was pretty sure any good instructor in hostage negotiation wouldn't encourage interaction between the target and their hostage. And the fact that she was even thinking of this whole thing as a hostage situation didn't help make her feel any better about the situation.
As she listened intently to the grumbling and shuffling on the other end of the line, (Name) could hear Tony whisper, "Did she just ask to be put on speaker-phone?" In one quick action, she slapped Tony's arm and gave him a look that told him to shut his mouth. The look must have been rather convincing as he stopped talking, choosing only to stand there quietly and rub his 'injured' arm.
"So, this woman on the phone is saying she is your wife," Marcus stated, his voice sounding farther away, "Is this true?"
The silence that followed felt like it dragged on for hours, though in reality probably only lasted two minutes at most. (Name) prayed her husband would be smart enough to read the situation correctly. Then, after another moment of tightly gripped silence, Clint spoke, "Yes. She's- She's my wife."
Thank god, she thought.
"And is your wife pregnant?" Marcus asked in a tone that said a lie would be end in disaster.
Come on, Clint. Don't be stupid. Use your brain. I know you have one, (Name) mentally projected out to Clint. She knew he couldn't get her thoughts, logically, but she could hope on a spiritual level he'd get the message.
More silence from Clint. "Answer the question, agent. Is your wife pregnant?" Marcus prodded further.
A beat and then came a quiet, "Yes."
"What was that?"
"Yes. My wife is pregnant. I... She's pregnant, okay?" Clint's voice was sharp, biting, and almost emotional. She could tell where this was going. "I can't leave them. Please don't kill me. I'm-I'm begging you here."
She rolled her eyes at the theatrics of her husband, but now it was her turn to ham it up as well. If she knew her husband, which she did, throughout this whole conversation, he's been sawing away at his restraints. Judging by his playing along with this charade, he needed a little more time. And she was going to give him that. "Please, Marcus. You gotta let him go. His child needs him. I need him. Please, just-just let him go," she begged, purposefully letting her voice crack to make herself appear weaker.
Out of the corner of her eye, (Name) could see Natasha looking at her with an amused look on her face. Okay, she was laying it on a bit thick, but she needed to make Marcus second guess himself in order to buy Clint more time.
Evidently, (Name) jumped as she heard a grunt sound from the phone. A loud clattering sound (probably from the phone being dropped) caused her to listen intently, which allowed her to hear struggling on the other end. Clint obviously managed to get free. So she waited patiently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as more grunting and clattering came through the line.
After five minutes, it was silent. With a furrowed brow, she listened, hoping to catch any sound that might tell her what's going on. The phone was picked up a few moments later and, much to her relief, a breathless Clint was on the other end, "Hey, (Name). So, I'll be in about... two hours, give or take an hour." Just as soon he spoke, he hung up, leaving her to listen to dial tone.
(Name) set the phone down with a sigh of relief, "He's on his way back."
The others let out their own noises of relief as the tension of the situation left their bodies. Tony came up to her and said, "I don't know how you managed to do that, but nice job. That whole pregnancy thing? That was a nice touch."
"Yeah... a nice touch," she sort-of mumbled.
"Tony, are you really that dense?" Natasha asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.
"What do you mean?"
"It wasn't a touch. She's actually pregnant, smart one."
"Wait, what? Really?" Tony exclaimed, staring at her excitedly.
"Seriously, Tony?" Steve asked.
"What? Was it really that obvious?"
"Yes," responded everyone else.
Tony let out an exasperated sigh, flailing his arms in an 'I give up' fashion. The others came up to (Name), giving her their varied styles of congratulations as they exited the room.
(Name) was left to her thoughts in the empty hub, causing her to let out another loud breath of relief as she forced her body to relax. Everything was fine. Clint was safe, most likely relatively unharmed, and was on his way home. Though, maybe that wasn't why she couldn't relax. Maybe it was the fact that she had to have the 'Yeah I'm pregnant' conversation with her husband in a matter of hours.
Another sigh escaped her. This was going to be great.
* * * * *
(Name) paced at the entrance to HQ as she waited for Clint to come bursting through those doors. She so wasn't ready for this conversation. Yet, she was calm about it. She'd been mentally preparing herself for this conversation since the moment she'd found out. So, she figured she was hopelessly stuck between being ready and being totally not ready.
All hesitation and nerves vanished as soon as Clint entered the building. (Name) practically tackled him into a hug after taking a running start and jumping into his arms. "Don't do that again, you fucking asshole," she said as she buried her face into his neck.
A chuckle vibrated through his body as he held her just as tightly as she was holding him, "Missed you too, (Name)." He set her down but didn't remove his hands from her arms. "Man, you saved my ass back there, thanks. That whole baby thing was great. I don't know where you come up with these ideas, but they always save our asses."
Her facial expression turned to confusion as she realized what was happening. He seriously didn't know she was being serious. "Clint... It wasn't an idea. It was real."
Now it was Clint's turn to look confused. "What?"
"It was real, Clint. All of that, minus the groveling, was real," she said slowly in hopes that it would sink in this time.
It didn't. "(Name), what are you saying?" he shook his head, obviously still lost.
"I'm pregnant, you idiot. How many times do I have to say it?"
That gave Clint pause, as the news finally started to sink in. Thank god. "You're... You're pregnant?"
"Yes."
"We're having a baby?" Clint's expression was stuck somewhere between sheer terror and exuberant joy.
"Yes."
"We're going to be parents?" he sounded almost excited now.
"Yes," (Name) said with a smile. "Yes, we're going to be parents."
Clint's face practically split in half as he grinned. "We're having a baby!" The joy on his face at that moment outweighed all of the anxiety and fear she'd felt over the past four days. That joy made her realize why this was a great thing. It made her realize that it would all be okay and it would make her world a better place. This baby, while it came as a total surprise, it was most definitely wanted.
And Clint's smile proved what she knew in her heart to be true.