Chapter 29
When Loki woke up the next morning, Natasha had already been in the kitchen.
It wouldn’t have been unusual, had it not been for the fact that she was baking.
Natasha loved to cook, but she hated baking.
“Good morning?” Loki said by way of greeting.
“Morning!” Natasha spoke brightly, mixing chocolate chips into the dough.
“What are you making?”
“Chocolate chip pumpkin bread,” Natasha replied.
“Why?”
“To celebrate, of course,” Natasha answered casually.
“W-what?”
“The bun in the oven.”
Was that a human reference? It sounded like one.
“What?”
“I think you already know what.”
No?
Naturally, he asked for clarification, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Natasha put the dough in the oven, closing the door a little harsher than strictly necessary, and spun to face Loki, “Are you just playing dumb, or do I have to spell it out for you?”
“What?” He asked, a cold stone already settling in his stomach.
“You’re pregnant,” she said, more as a statement than a request for confirmation.
Loki leant back against the counter, running a hand through his hair with a long sigh, “How long have you known?” And more importantly, “Does anyone else know?”
“I knew something was up the moment you didn’t show up for the mission to New Mexico on time,“ Natasha answered, “And no.”
Ah, that morning. He had spent most of that morning in the bathroom, throwing up and feeling so overwhelmingly tired, despite getting a surprisingly decent amount of sleep the previous night. He hadn’t wanted to leave the tower. But—
“I was only a few minutes late!”
“Let’s be honest, though. You looked awful.”
Loki gives her an offended look, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Given that you were pale as a ghost, you didn’t do your hair, and you looked generally exhausted?” Natasha said it like it was obvious, “At first I thought that you might be sick, but when you started acting weird,” she gave him a meaningful look, “well, weirder than usual, around us, especially with that whole thing with Thor asking you to be a godparent, I knew.”
“But that doesn’t—“
“It’s not his, is it?” Natasha said, blunt as ever.
“What? Who?”
Natasha sat down at the counter to take a sip of wine, “Steve’s. It’s not his, is it?”
“No,” Loki struggled to find the right words.
They were hardly more than friends, but Natasha was talking like they were already a couple.
“We’re not even--We never. I never—”
“Have you told him?”
“What do you think? No.”
“I think you should,” Natasha suggested, her voice soft.
“I can’t. Not yet.”
Not ever.
“Why not?”
“I just—Please, don’t tell him. I’ll figure it out; I just need some time.”
He’d been going through the books that Frigga had sent him, searching for a spell, an incantation, an elixir. Anything that would get rid of this thing. He knew there had to be one, he’d heard Frigga speak of them before. He’d never listened, of course. As a prince with no interest in sex, why would he ever have to worry about that?
“Figure it out? As in kill it?” Natasha’s neutral, almost gentle expression hardened, her voice sharp as shards of glass, “Because if you think that I—“
“Kill it? Oh my word, however would you come to that conclusion?”
It’s not like he wanted to kill it.
But what choice did he have?
“It’s just that I—“ For the first time, Natasha actually seemed almost unsettled, “I’m sorry, I guess it’s just an Earth thing.”
Not really.
“Midgard is the strangest planet I have ever known.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“—I wouldn’t ask you to do this if there was any other way.”
Normally, Steve wouldn’t even consider eavesdropping; It was an invasion of privacy, and just plain unnecessary, but the urgency in Loki’s voice and the fact that he was asking anyone to do anything set off so many alarms.
Steve put his ear to the door, quieting his breath to hear the rest of the conversation.
“What do I tell the others?” Natasha asked.
“Tell them it's Banner’s,” A pause, “I understand you’ve been wanting one for a while now. He should be thrilled.”
Thrilled? What had Natasha and Bruce been trying to obtain? Steve blinked. They hadn’t really—? There had to be another explanation.
“A-are you sure?” Natasha’s unsure voice stopped him in his thoughts.
“Natasha,” Loki explained, a hint of grief mixed with fear, “They can’t know. No one can know.” Another pause. “It’s better for everyone this way.”
Silence followed the statement. Sensing the conversation had ended, Steve straightened, and knocked on the door.
“Romanoff?”
“I’ll . . . I’ll be right there.” Natasha’s voice sounded flustered.
The door opened a minute later. One of her hands held the door open, and the other gripped a small object Steve couldn’t make out. Her face was pale with shock.
Steve gestured inside, “Do you mind if I . . . “
“Oh. Yeah,” she answered, hastily gesturing him inside, “Go ahead. Take a seat.”
Steve sat down on the couch, glancing around the room as Natasha joined him. Loki was nowhere in sight; he had apparently fled.
Natasha sat down on the couch, and stared at the foreign object in her hands, as if it might suddenly come to life.
The object looked almost like a thermometer, but . . . different. There were lines on it instead of numbers.
Steve wondered if it was some kind of tool that only she could read.
“What’s that?”
Natasha looked up to see Steve’s furrowed brows.
“It’s a . . . It’s a pregnancy test, Steve.”
The gears were still turning in his head, and at that statement, they stuttered to a halt.
Natasha spoke to Loki just seconds ago.
“They can’t know,” Loki had said.
Steve knew that Natasha had always wanted children, but had she really been willing to go that far?
“Are you?” Steve felt foolish for asking.
“I figured something was up when I woke up this morning throwing up in the bathroom,” Natasha answered, almost nonchalantly, “It’s happened every day for the past three days, you know.”
“Oh,” Steve said, a somewhat shocked smile on his face, “Congratulations, I guess.”
For reasons he couldn’t explain, Steve felt oddly betrayed. He should’ve been happy for his friends, but a cold feeling settled in his chest instead.
Natasha put on a weak smile, clearing her throat before retreating to the kitchen to make the popcorn for the movie.
Against his better judgment, Steve followed her. He reached into the fridge for a few drinks while the popcorn popped.
“Bruce is the father?” Steve asked. He left it open for her to correct him.
Natasha gave him a look, “Yeah.”
Is she even going to tell Bruce? Would he just know, anyway?
Steve considered the possibility that he might have to break the news to the scientist himself.
No, it’s not his place, Steve thought, That’s Natasha’s choice.
And what about Loki? Steve’s thoughts shifted to the ever-more confusing god of mischief. He thought the trickster had finally started opening up to him, and now he was ready to lie to them all over again?
Natasha poured the popcorn into a couple of bowls and handed one to Steve.
Steve nodded, “Good for you two.”
Bruce picked out a cheesy rom-com for his turn.
No one gets invested in the movie all that much, but they don’t really need to. Bruce tells everyone that’s why he likes rom-coms; he can focus more on the Experience™.
Yeah, sure.
Of course, Bruce melts at the end when the couple gets together, and Natasha leans closer to him, whispering something in his ears. He hums in response.
Loki himself had chosen a spot on the floor next to Steve, their shoulders nearly touching.
Now was as good a time as any, he thought.
Slowly, he leaned against Steve’s shoulder.
He felt the man stiffen against him, but other than that, he made no protest.
Loki dutifully kept his eyes on the movie screen, but let his hand drift towards Steve’s.
When their hands touched, Steve pulled away.
Confused, Loki turned to see something akin to forced indifference in Steve’s expression.
Suddenly, the Captain cleared his throat awkwardly and stood up.
“I-I’ll get some more popcorn,” he explained hurriedly.
When he returned with a fresh bowl of popcorn, Steve sat on the floor, placing the bowl between them.
And in that moment, Loki had never felt more far apart from him.