It all started with an off hand comment from Clint, like everything weird always did. That morning it was just the two in the kitchen, eating breakfast. Steve, Natasha and Sam were off on a mission out of the country, while Bruce, Thor and Bucky were still sleeping. Tony was feeding Ulysses and talking to him in Italian, because he wanted Ulysses to grow up just like he did: speaking his Mother’s mother tongue. Clint was playing on his phone, a bowl of cereal and orange juice in front of him.
“Bravo ragazzo. Hai mangiato la tua colazione come un campione.” Tony cooed at his son, wiping the remnants of banana puree of his face. Good boy, you ate your breakfast like a champion.
Ulysses giggled, “Babbo!”, then with his small hands outstretched, he tried to grab at Tony’s hand to gnaw on it.
“Così carino.” Tony chuckled, letting Ulysses gnaw on one of his fingers. With one of his hands preoccupied with being a toy for his son, Tony had to use only one hand to manipulate the blueprint holograph of a new design for Sam’s wings that he had JARVIS project to him. He had been making headway in improving the aerodynamics of them, until something stumped him and he couldn’t figure out how to solve it. Something in the design was bugging him and he couldn’t figure out what it was. Tony swore under his breath, turning the 3D projections in full motion, hoping that maybe seeing it in full would help him.
“I noticed lately that you’ve been irrationally hating on stuff, Stark.” Clint spoke up. Tony had kinda forgotten he was there, to be honest. Clint was looking at him introspectively, which was odd for him. He usually saved his introspective looks for watching Say Yes to the Dress . “You’re not pregnant again, are you?”
Tony looked away from the holograph to him so fast, his neck hurt from whiplash. “What? No, I’m not! Am I?”
Clint just looked blankly at him. One of his eyebrows quirked up, questioning Tony’s assertion and making him doubt himself. Tony hated how well-versed he was becoming in interpreting Clint’s eyebrow movements.
“JARVIS!” he yelled at his AI.
“I have instructed an intern to run to the pharmacy and fetch some home pregnancy testing kits for you, Sir.”
“Good. I want at least three. Reproducibility is key.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“What’s going on?” Bucky walked in to the dining room, looking disheveled and bleary eyed.
“Stark’s preggers again.”
“I am not!”
“Wow, really? We’re getting a new nephew?”
“Or niece. Man, a niece would be nice. We could finally get a real-life Katniss.”
“Hello!” Tony spoke over them, “no one’s here is pregnant until proven otherwise. No, you’re not getting a new nephew, Bucky and double no, you’re not getting a Katniss, birdbrain.”
“Note the moodiness,” Clint stage-whispered to Bucky, “it was like this last time too. Plus irrational hatred of all things circular.”
“Shut up, asshole.” Tony covered Ulysses’ ears as he swore at Clint, “Steve and I haven’t been sexually active ever since this one starts teething.” he motioned down at Ulysses who seemed to be enraptured with the conversation taking place, moving his head in the direction of whoever’s talking. “Crying babies are the opposite of an aphrodisiac.”
“Ugh, that’s way too much information.” Bucky pulled a face, moving to the refrigerator to pull out a carton of orange juice.
“Steve and I have sex, Barnes. Get over it. Where do you think your nephew comes from, a stork dropped him off on the roof?”
“Yes.”
Tony rolled his eyes and lifting Ulysses up from his high chair and set him on his hips, “What are you, five? I’m not pregnant. And once I prove it to you losers, what am I gonna win?”
“If you’re not pregnant, then you win the rights to decide what we see on movie nights. I won’t even protest about watching Firefly again for the thousandth time. But if you are pregnant, I reserve the right to take pictures of you when you cry at a shamwow commercial and me and Nat get to be the baby’s godparents. And to name her Katniss.” Clint said.
“Deal on everything but naming the baby part.” Tony countered. Naming the child would always be his and Steve’s prerogatives no matter how much he loved their weird ass family.
“Sweet.” Clint clapped his hands together in glee, “this is gonna be a good day after all.” he grinned at Tony.
“Hmph, you wish, Barton.” Tony then turned to leave the room and speaking to Ulysses, “Vieni tesoro, andiamo via dai tuoi zii pazzi.” Come sweetheart, let’s get away from your crazy uncles.
One hour later, Tony stared in horror at all six home pregnancy tests lined up in front of him on the bathroom sink. All of them showing how pregnant he undoubtedly was.
Dammit, Clint was getting that godfather title after all. Pepper was going to kill him.
Steve got home from the mission late that night. After briefing Maria at the upstate New York facility that Tony revamped for the Avengers’ new headquarters, he finally managed to get home. He sent Natasha and Sam back earlier, they needed the rest more than he did even despite Natasha’s protestations. Besides, as team leader it was his duty to brief Maria and gave the report. That was hours ago, and now all he wanted to do was go home to the Tower and cuddled up with Tony and Ulysses.
He showered earlier at the facility, thinking it would be nice to just be ready to fall into bed with Tony. And if they ended up doing things that warranted another round of showering, Steve would be more than happy to take another one with Tony. He got home around midnight, JARVIS greeting him after he parked his bike in the Tower’s underground garage.
“Welcome back, Captain Rogers.”
“Hello, JARVIS. It’s good to be back. How is everyone?”
“As well as they can be, sir.”
Steve smiled, “Nothing’s broken or exploded while I’m away?”
“No, Captain. While Master Stark and Agent Barton had a slight disagreement earlier today in the kitchen, nothing seems to be in disrepair.”
“Tony and Clint were fighting again?” Steve questioned. His mate and Clint was always getting into feuds and bets about silly thing, “What is it about this time?”
“Perhaps it’s best if I let Master Stark relay that to you, Captain.”
Steve looked up in alarm at JARVIS’ words. What had happened that JARVIS seemed reluctant to even tell him?
“Is Tony alright? Are they okay?”
“Yes, Captain. My apologies, I didn’t mean to alarm you, it is only my judgement that you would like to hear what the argument was about from Master Stark himself.”
Okay, that was a first. “Where is Tony?”
“In the workshop, Captain.”
Steve’s first instinct was to go to him, but another part of him called on him to go upstairs to see his baby boy first. Which was what he decided to do in the end, Tony would understand and JARVIS assured him that no one was harmed during whatever disagreement they had earlier. “JARVIS, could you take me up to see Ulysses, please?”
“Certainly, Captain.” then the elevator moved speedily up to the Penthouse of the Tower where they resided. As soon as the elevator stopped and opened its doors, Steve stepped out and walked to the nursery where Ulysses was currently sleeping. He gently opened the door, not wanting to wake the boy up and walked silently to peer into the crib. His baby boy was sleeping soundly, his favorite Iron Man and Captain America plushies clutching in each hand. He looked so peaceful in slumber, so different compared to the boy he was two weeks ago, in the throes of teething and constantly in pain.
He seemed to be feeling better now, and has been sleeping through the night again, to his and Tony’s relief. Seeing Ulysses cried himself to sleep all those nights and helpless to do anything but comfort him tugged at their heart strings.
“I love you so much, baby boy. So much,” Steve whispered to him in the dark. He reached down to stroke the downy brown hair on the boy’s head, so much like Tony’s, and kissed his forehead. Ulysses shifted a little in his sleep and settled back down.
A visit to one of the loves of his life done, he sought to visit the other one. Steve started to walk towards the staircase sequestered in one corner of the living room leading to Tony’s workshop. Through the glass doors, he saw Tony sitting on his work desk. He didn’t seem to be working, the only thing that the holodeck was projecting was the picture Clint took of the three of them in the living room. Steve entered his passcode and entered the workshop, stepping up behind Tony. Tony didn’t seem to notice his presence, what with the cacophonous sound of his music.
As he moved closer, he noticed that Tony was holding something in his hand, a stick of some sort, and seemed to be preoccupied by it. There were two red stripes on the stick, which now that Steve thought about again, looked familiar. Just like the stick Tony showed him two years ago after that night he told Steve he was---
“Oh my God,” Steve blurted out loud. Tony whipped his head around and jumped from his chair when he became aware of Steve’s presence and voice, “Tony, are you-- is that what I think it is?”
“Steve! When did you get home?”
“Never mind that, Tony. Is that a pregnancy test?”
Tony, seeming to notice that he was still brandishing a used pregnancy test stick, immediately hid it behind his back. “No. It’s a-- a stick. Something new I’m working on.”
“Tony…”
“Steve...”
“Tony, you know I have enhanced memory. I still remember what the stick looked like from two years ago for Ulysses.” Steve paused, taking in Tony’s disheveled appearance. His hair was mussed up like he had been running his fingers through his hair multiple times in frustration. Tony’s eyes were wide and full of emotion. He looked equal parts happy and terrified. Though right now, terrified seemed to be the dominating emotion.
“Tony, darling, what’s the matter? Are you scared?”
“No.” Tony started to say, then seeming to come to a decision he reiterated, “Yes. Steve, I’m not young anymore. I’m not at an age where I should be getting pregnant. We dodged a bullet with Ulysses. What if-- what if it doesn’t work out?”
Oh. Of course, Tony’s paranoia seemed to be getting the best of him.
“Tony,” Steve reached out to him, gently placing his hand on Tony’s clenched fist, “Sweetheart, do you not want this?”
“What-- “ Tony flinched, trying futilely to retract his hand from Steve’s, “No, Steve, I-- of course I want it. I just--” Tony broke off, seeming to realize something important. He peered at Steve, almost challenging, “why are you asking me this? What would you say if I said “No”, Steve?”
Steve sighed and started to steer them to the couch he usually occupied when sketching down here, “Sweetheart, I will always respect and fight for your right to choose. I know that nowadays abortion is conflated as a moral issue, but back when I was growing up it was more of a social issue.” he urged Tony to sit down, “The church didn’t have one opinion or another on it, and more importantly, I saw with my own eyes the consequences of criminalizing what’s essentially a medical procedure. More times than I can count.”
“Wha--”
“Ma was a nurse, you know. Sometimes we got patients in the middle of the night. Patients who couldn’t afford to go anywhere else, if you get what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Tony nodded, absently. Admittedly, he wasn’t expecting this. He knew of Steve’s faith but he wasn’t expecting Steve to be pro-choice. But hearing how the issue was perceived at the time Steve was growing up and who Steve had as a mother, it was not too surprising for him to be more understanding on the issue than most Alphas and Betas were. Tony should have known better, Steve lived to surprise him after all.
“So, the question is: what do you want, Tony? Do you want this baby?”
“Of course, Steve. How could I not? Another kid for you and the team to spoil, a sibling for Ulysses and a chance for our family to grow bigger. This time, maybe they’d look like me. Also, you promised I get to name this one Citizen Kane . ”
Steve chuckled and pulled Tony closer until Tony was nestled up against him. He kissed Tony’s forehead and murmured, “Still obsessed on that, huh?”
“A promise is a promise, Steven.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Tony poked his stomach in retaliation and snuggled up closer to Steve. He breathed in Steve’s scent, seeking comfort and solace after weeks of separation. His fears from before were somewhat abated with Steve by his side. Steve would support him just like he did with Ulysses, Tony wouldn’t have to do this alone.
“So, we’re definitely pregnant, then?”
“According to all six of the pregnancy tests I peed on, yes we are definitely pregnant. One of them even spelled out the word “pregnant” on the thing as if there could be a possibility of someone being vaguely pregnant. Or halfway between pregnant and not.”
“You bought six pregnancy tests?” Steve laughed. Of course Tony did, he never do anything by halves.
“It’s for reproducibility, Steve. The scientific method matters.”
“Of course, darling.” Steve kissed him, sweetly and softly, warmth starting to suffuse him. He and Tony were going to be parents again and Ulysses was going to be a big brother. Their family was growing and nothing could be more perfect.
“I love you,” he said as he and Tony pulled away from the kiss.
“Love you too,” Tony replied. He seemed more relaxed now. Steve was glad to see his previous trepidations and hesitation replaced by acceptance and happiness. “So since you’re psyched that you’re gonna be a dad again, you’re not gonna be too mad if I told you I lost a bet with Clint which makes him and Nat the baby’s godparents, will you?”
“As long as he doesn’t get to name the baby, we’re good.”
“Perfect. Come on, let’s make out some more.”
Never let it be said that Tony was a sore loser. He had always accepted his victory gracefully and dealt with his losses graciously.
Okay, that might be pushing it a little. He was a somewhat sore loser, but that’s just because he very rarely lost any competition he ever entered, okay? It had more to do with not knowing how to handle losses and being raised with the mindset that he was the best there was. But he was getting better, he was getting less competitive and starting to understand that a little humility never hurt anyone.
Except this morning.
When he and Steve stepped into the penthouse living room that morning on their way to the kitchen, the room was dark despite the fact it was morning. The eponymous soundtrack to “The Godfather” was playing from the sound system and Clint was sitting on one of the chairs, decked out in full Godfather garb, complete with the slicked back hair and fake moustache and a cat he got from God knew where on his lap. Steve looked wide eyed and confused at the whole thing, while Tony just rolled his eyes at the display. There was also a banner splayed on top of the family picture over the mantle proclaiming “Congratulations, Clint!”
“I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” he said in a poor imitation of Brando’s accent while petting the cat.
“What…” Steve faintly croaked out. Ulysses, seeing a cat on Clint’s lap, started to coo and reached out for a chance to pet the animal, while Tony sighed the sigh of man who has been suffering long and arduously.
“No, caro ragazzo.” he told Ulysses, “Non accarezziamo gatti che potrebbero avere la rabbia. O vai vicino allo Zio Clint, perché ora potrebbe avere anche la rabbia.” then Tony walked out of the living room to the kitchen. No darling, we don’t touch cats that might have rabies. Or go near Uncle Clint because he might have rabies too now.
“What did you just say? You better not be talking shit about me to the kid, Tony!”
“Clint, language!” Steve admonished him.
Tony saw Natasha in the kitchen, already seated on one of the stools on the counter sipping on her morning tea, “Are you seeing this disaster?” Tony asked her.
“I got him the cat.” she answered simply.
“Really, Nat?” Tony sighed, putting Ulysses in his high chair next to her.
“It’s not everyday one wins a bet that made them someone’s future godparents.” she said, a small smile gracing her lips, “Dobroye utro, vozlyublennaya.” she addressed Ulysses, who smile cheerfully at his aunt. Good morning, sweetheart.
“Not you, too.”
“Yes, me too. All joking aside, congratulations, Tony. We’re all very excited about the new arrival.”
“Yeah. So are we.” Tony said as he set about to make his decaf coffee and microwaving Ulysses’ banana puree breakfast. “A little scared, but excited too.”
Steve walked into the kitchen not long after. When he saw Tony pouring a cup of coffee, he stopped short and fixed him a look. Tony immediately corrected his assumption, “It’s decaf, for God’s sakes. I can have decaf.”
“Fine, Tony. But just one cup, and I’ll know if you try and sneak in another cup, JARVIS is monitoring your intake.”
“Ugh, this is the worst part of being pregnant. Not getting to have caffeine.” Tony grumbled.
“Not the swollen ankles or morning sickness?” Natasha asked him.
“Nah, I can handle those. Caffeine headaches are somehow worse than those two combined together.”
“One cup per day, Tony,” Steve cautioned, “I’ll know if you cheat. Now, sit down please. I’ll take care of Ulysses’ breakfast.”
Tony gladly relinquished breakfast duty to his mate and sat down at the breakfast counter, savoring his only cup of coffee for the day per Steve’s mandate. Steve took out the warmed up puree for Ulysses and started to feed the boy. Seeing Steve being so domestic and tender and loving towards their son never fail to bring a smile to his face. Soon, they would have another child to shower their love and affection to. Tony couldn’t wait.
Just then, Sam walked in the kitchen and wondered, “Hey, why is Clint cosplaying Don Corleone in the living room? Also, when did we get a cat?”
Tony sighed again. Really, really couldn’t wait.
Once Dr. Rosenberg confirmed what all six home pregnancy tests told them, and told them that the pregnancy was five weeks along, they had a little celebration by having home cooked meal courtesy of Steve and Bruce. They skyped with Rhodey who was on tour overseas to tell him the good news and Pepper dropped by for dinner with them. Wine and Asgardian mead was free-flowing, and by the end of the night everyone was either face planting on the couch or in their meals. Everybody, except Steve and Tony, who still had to put the actual baby in the family to bed and was banned from imbibing on said beverages.
It was a good start to another journey for their family and so far, four months in, Tony was going strong. He passed the three month mark safely, so the chances of spontaneous miscarriage has been substantially lowered. There was no irrational hatred of spherical objects like previously, and there was a significant increase in his affinity for corned beef and pastrami sandwiches from Second Avenue Deli, and only from Second Avenue Deli. Sandwiches from any other place would not do.
However, there was something that was different from his previous pregnancy and that was the frequency of caffeine headaches he was getting. With Ulysses, once he reached the three month mark, his headaches disappeared as his body adjusted to not having the stimulant anymore. But now, he still get headaches in the morning and sometimes in the afternoon. So far, he’s been shrugging it off as his body not adapting as fast as it should, but somehow today felt different.
Tony was in the workshop that morning, working on another upgrade for the robotics he wanted to install in Bucky’s arms as well as in the prosthetics that SI provided for free to veterans through their rehabilitation clinics. But his head was pounding, and his vision was starting to blur.
“JARVIS, safe and shut everything down.” he commanded the AI who promptly launched his command.
“Sir, I’m detecting increased heart rate from you. Shall I call for an ambulance?”
“Yes, JARVIS. And tell me where Steve is.”
“Captain Rogers is in his studio with Young Master Ulysses.”
Tony rushed to Steve’s studio, where he found his mate stood in front of a canvas working on a painting, with Ulysses playing in the playpen they set up in Steve’s studio.
“Steve…” Tony gasped out, hands clutching the door jamb tightly.
Steve, reacting to his presence, turned around from where he was facing the canvas to face Tony, “Tony,” he put down the brush he was holding. Tony’s face must have shown how panicked he was that Steve immediately put down his brush and walked towards him, “what is it, sweetheart? Are you okay?”
“Something’s wrong.” Tony rasped out. He opened his mouth to say more, to tell Steve that his head hurt and his heart was racing, but then darkness surrounded him and the only thing he was aware of before succumbing to consciousness was Steve’s panicked face and his voice desperately calling out his name.
The ambulance JARVIS called arrived not five minutes after Tony fainted, and Steve rushed down to the lobby to meet the EMTs, Tony’s body secure in his arms. In his haste to meet the EMTs, he left Ulysses in the studio but JARVIS assured him that he had alerted the Avengers on what happened and that Ulysses was in Bucky’s care.
The next couple of hours was a blur. He remembered being reluctant to relinquish Tony to the EMTs, until he felt Natasha placed her hand on his arms and gently urged him to “let him go, Steve. They’re going to help him, Steve. But you need to let go first.” He remembered riding in the ambulance with them, holding Tony’s slack hand in his own, praying fervently for Tony to be safe, for the baby to be safe, for everything to turn out alright. He remembered waiting alone, lost in his own thoughts and all the possible ways everything could end badly, and feeling scared like he never felt before --not even when he was certain he was going to die on the Valkyrie-- because if anything happened to Tony, Steve didn't know what he was going to do. Tony was his life, his whole universe, his soul’s mate, his reason for being and to have that light taken away from him would be a fate worse than death.
He slowly began to notice the presence of the other Avengers. His family had driven down to be with them, to offer their support. Ulysses was still in Bucky’s arms. His baby looked like he had been crying-- his face was red, eyes still watery and he was sniffing and hiccuping into Bucky’s shoulder.
“Oh, baby,” Steve reached for him and Bucky knowing what he wanted, handed over his son to him. Ulysses immediately snuggled up against him, tucking his face into the crook of his neck, seeking comfort in his father’s scent. “Hush, now A stor. I’m sorry we scared you. Babbo’s going to be okay, sweetheart. He’ll be fine.”
“Babbo… ” Ulysses cried out pitifully at the mention of his father. He looked around hoping to find him, but to no avail. Then he looked back at Steve, “Dov'è? ” where?
“He’ll be back soon, sweetheart. He’ll be with us again. Soon…” Steve trailed off, eyes wandering back to the direction the EMTs took Tony to. Tony would be fine, he had to be. In the meantime, he turned his attention to comfort his son. Ulysses needed him now, and Steve wouldn’t leave him behind again.
Steve had long ago resigned himself to be the leader of one of those packs that were obnoxiously large, loud and where everyone in it was involved in everybody’s business. Aside from him, Tony and Ulysses, there was no blood relation, but he would be damned if their relationship wasn’t as thick as blood. The fact that they chose each other as families, as opposed to being born into it, might have played a big role in how they relate to each other. Going through several life-or-death situation might also play a role in forging that bond deeper. They were always there for each other, they always had each other’s backs.
And so it was that Steve found himself that evening in Tony’s recovery room, a recovery room that was crowded and noisy that he had to apologize several times to the nurses who were on duty. Somehow, someone (Steve was pretty sure it was Clint) had smuggled in Tony’s favorite pastrami sandwich, which he was eating on the bed right now with Ulysses snuggled up in his lap. The boy refused to budge from his Babbo’s side ever since they were allowed to see him. Thor had brought sleeping bags and air mattresses, because apparently everyone intended to stay overnight with him and Tony. After Steve explained to them that no one but him was staying overnight, Thor shrugged and used the sleeping bags as carpets to spread out on the floor and now he, Sam, Bucky and Clint were playing poker on it. The air mattresses have been blown up to be makeshift couches for Natasha and Bruce to sit on.
“Lighten up, Steve.” Tony told him. Steve was still uneasy even after Tony woke up a few hours ago. “Doc says I can go home tomorrow. They just want me to stay overnight for observations.”
“Easier said than done.” he grumbled out. Steve knew he must be wearing what Tony dubbed as his “Constipated Face” on. But he couldn’t help being sullen. Everyone else seemed so ready to forget what happened not even three hours ago. Steve guessed it was easier for them. They didn’t see Tony’s eyes rolling to the back of his head and collapsing in Steve’s arms. They didn’t have to see what it would have looked like had Tony died.
“Steve, come here,” Tony beckoned him, holding out his free hand for Steve to take, which Steve did. He sat down next to Tony and angled his body so Tony could lean back against him. “I’m okay, mio caro. Still here, still with you. Still around to drive you crazy by stealing your ties and socks.”
Steve kissed him on the forehead, chuckling lightly at the mention of Tony’s frequent borrowing of his socks, “Yeah, you’re here. You’re still here with me.”
“That’s right, babe. Here with you, Ulysses and our loud, obnoxious and rowdy family.”
“I left him behind, Tony. when you collapsed, I panicked and-- I had tunnel vision, the only thing that mattered was getting you some help and I left him behind in my studio. What kind of father would ever do that, Tony? He was alone.” Steve reached out to caress Ulysses’ head. The boy, feeling Steve’s hand, caressing his head, turned around to look at his father and smiled, offering a piece of beef he was chewing to Steve, which he took indulgently.
“Hush, darling. You were scared for my life, your actions are understandable. And Ulysses wasn’t alone, Bucky came for him. Nothing would have happened to him because we have a strong support system.” Tony assured him, leaning back further into him and placing one of Steve’s hand on top of the slight bump of his stomach, “we’re all still here, Steve. We’re still together. And I know how hungry you are, you haven’t eaten anything the entire time you were here. Your muscles must be screaming for food right now.”
Steve just hugged Tony closer to him, dropping his head to the crook of Tony’s neck where Tony immediately started to card his fingers through his hair, just the way Steve liked it.
“Papà ha bisogno di sorridere di più, non è lui? ” Tony addressed Ulysses. Papa needs to smile more, doesn’t he?
“Sì! ” the little boy exclaimed, “Papà sorridi! ” then Ulysses started smacking his cheek with his small hands in an effort to make Steve smile. Steve helplessly laughed at his son’s antics, taking the hand repeatedly smacking his face in his own and pressing a kiss on the baby’s palm.
“Yes, darling. Papa’s smiling now. You made Papa smile.”
Ulysses giggled, seeming to realize his mission to make his Papa smile was accomplished and focused his attention back on his food.
“Here, have some sandwich. Tonight, we eat and tomorrow we can get out of this place and have “Thank God You’re still alive” sex.” Tony grinned cheekily as he handed Steve an unwrapped sandwich.
“Promises, promises, Mr. Stark.”
You know how before you did something inadvisable and dangerous in your youth, it would always start with the words “I’m going to regret this later”, insert self-deprecating laughter here. Nobody actually regretted doing whatever it was that they were about to do, so for the longest time Tony wondered what was the point in saying it in the first place.
Tony had done a lot of unadvisable stuff in his young, misguided days at MIT. Which continued later on after he graduated up to the time life finally gave him a smack in the face and told him to clean up his act. He never before regretted what he did at parties or otherwise. Tony didn’t believe in shirking responsibility for the consequences of his actions. If you did the deed, then you better be prepared for the consequences.
So, regret over something he had done as a notorious playboy wasn’t something Tony felt very profoundly in his life. At least not until today.
“I’m afraid you have pre-eclampsia, Tony.” Dr. Rosenberg told him and Steve.
“What does that mean, doctor?” Steve asked him. Tony was speechless. Out of all the things that could occur to him, this was the last thing he ever expected to happen.
“It means that Tony’s high blood pressure is negatively impacting the pregnancy, Steve. We have to monitor him very closely from now on.”
“But I don’t have high blood pressure. I don’t!” Tony insisted.
“You do now, Tony. Two months ago your blood pressure was 135 over 80, but now you’re well over 140/90. We checked your blood pressure when you were admitted and earlier this morning. Both showed the same measurements. We checked the protein content in your urine and we found elevated levels of protein being secreted. All signs point to pre-eclampsia. I’m so sorry, Tony.”
“What do we need to do now? Does Tony need to take medications? How-- how is this going to impact the baby?” Steve asked again. Tony felt numb and out of sorts at the diagnosis. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
“The most definitive cure for pre-eclampsia is to deliver the baby and the placenta, as soon as possible.” Dr. Rosenberg said, “obviously, we can’t do that anytime soon as Tony still have about four months to go. Lowering the blood pressure would be the next best thing, Steve. I’ve prescribed anti-hypertensive meds for Tony to take. He would need to take this for the remainder of the pregnancy and well after that as well.”
They were both silent for awhile trying to process the information Dr. Rosenberg was piling on them.
“Is this because I used to drink? It is, isn’t it? My unborn child is being punished for the things I did when I was young.” Tony asked, his tone hysterical.
“Oh, God, Tony, no. Nothing of the sort. It’s most likely a combination of being pregnant at an older age and your pre existing heart condition. Pre-eclampsia is common in geriatric pregnancies. We were lucky we caught it early, Tony, Steve. We can manage it better when we pinpoint the problem sooner.”
Tony felt Steve took his hand and he looked up at his mate, seeing the same fears and trepidation reflected back to him from his blue eyes. But Steve looked resolute in the face of trouble. He had always been the stronger one out of the two of them. “Steve,” Tony croaked out desperately, scared like never before.
“How is this going to affect the baby, doctor?” Steve asked again, reminding Dr. Rosenberg that he had yet to answer one of his questions.
“Depending on how well Tony responded to treatment, we would need to deliver the baby sooner than the forty week mark. They would be a preterm baby and it is very likely that the baby will be born at a lower weight than normal.” the doctor then continued, “from what we have seen so far, Tony’s condition seems to be a milder case of pre-eclampsia, so it would be too hasty to talk about inducing labor right now. I want you to remain on bedrest for the remainder of this pregnancy, Tony. I also want to have a routine monitoring of the fetal heart rate and you need to take the blood pressure meds for the rest of this pregnancy.”
“Of course, doctor.” Steve answered on their behalf, “we will do as you ask.”
“Good,” Dr. Rosenberg said, “we’ll see how we’re doing in a couple of weeks and reassess the situation again. Don’t be too alarmed, Tony and Steve. As I’ve said, we caught it early and now we can monitor it more closely before anything else happen.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Dr. Rosenberg left with a warm smile on his face and a promise to send a nurse to them carrying the new medication that Tony was now required to take for the remainder of his pregnancy.
“Tony, sweetheart, talk to me.” Steve urged him, sitting down on the bed next to him.
“What else is there to say, Steve?” Tony sighed, “we knew the risk going in. I guess I was just too optimistic because it was smooth sailing with Ulysses. Age isn’t just a number after all, huh?” Tony chuckled deprecatingly.
Steve embraced him, letting Tony rest his weary head on his firm, comforting chest. “It’s okay. Like Dr. Rosenberg said, we caught it early. Now we know the risks and what to do to prevent it. And don’t tell me you’re not already working on an algorithm to allow JARVIS to constantly surveil the baby’s heart rate.”
“You know me so well,” Tony kissed Steve chastely on his lips, “just need to go home and I can implement it.”
“Not from the workshop. You’re on bedrest as of now, mister.”
“As long you’re on bedrest with me too.”
“Of course, Tony. We’ll get Ulysses in bed with us, too. It’ll be a prolonged slumber party.”
“Sounds good.” Tony hummed into Steve’s chest. “We’ll be okay, right, Steve?”
“Yeah, Tony.” Steve hugged him tighter, “I’ll always have your back.”
The Avengers took the news of his pregnancy complication like it was a threat that needed to be vanquished. Bruce, along with JARVIS, took up the mantle of Tony’s personal round the clock in-house physician, doing everything he could to make sure that Tony and baby were doing fine. The rest of the Avengers were on Tony sitting duty, ensuring he took his medicine and remained on bedrest for the remainder of his pregnancy.
Tony used to think being able to spend all day in bed would be the greatest thing in the world. Turned out, it was the most boring thing in the world. He was mandated to stay in bed and not do anything more strenuous than walk the ten feet journey from his bed to the bathroom. There were some noises from Bruce about hooking Tony up to a catheter, but he immediately and prejudicially vetoed that idea. Being on bedrest was one thing, but being hooked up to a catheter was where Tony drew the line.
They bought another television to install in the bedroom, and somehow Steve and Tony’s bedroom now became the common room during the daytime. All of the Avengers seemed to gravitate towards their bedroom when they didn’t have any prior engagements, or out on a mission. They would take turns accompanying Tony, especially if Steve had to head upstate for some urgent business at the headquarters.
And Steve, well he made it his new life’s mission to ensure Tony’s health and safety. He hardly left Tony’s side, aside from unavoidable engagements. He stopped doing missions, choosing to delegate them to Bucky or Sam in his stead. Tony had no complaints, he was more than happy to be able to spend each of his waking moments with Steve even if all they could do was count down the minutes before Tony get to turn to his left side after ten minutes lying on his right side.
Dr. Rosenberg stopped by for house calls frequently too. And after he was sworn to secrecy to not disclose JARVIS’ existence to anyone in his field, he was given access to work with JARVIS to monitor Tony’s health. It was on one such visit that Dr. Rosenberg, with JARVIS’ help, told them the news they had been waiting for.
“So, fellas, I’m very satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Tony’s blood pressure is under control, and it looks like the fetal heart rate is doing well. A bit slower than we normally expect but it is within normal range. So now, we’re at the point where we can start to tell what the sex is. Would you like to know?”
“Yes.” they immediately answered.
Dr. Rosenberg chuckled at their eagerness, “Well then, congrats Dads. You’re going to have another little boy.”
“Another boy?” Steve repeated, his face joyful and elated.
“Hai sentito, piccolo? Avrai un fratellino .” Tony told Ulysses who was in his arms, but seemed more interested in the lollipop Dr. Rosenberg gave him earlier.
“Yes. Congratulations, guys. He’s a bit on the small side, for now. But I’m confident we won’t have to deliver him early if Tony’s blood pressure stays under control like it is now.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Tony told him, “really, thank you for helping us from the start. We really appreciate it.”
“It’s my pleasure, Tony, and an honor to be a part of this. Not everyone gets to say they delivered Captain America and Iron Man’s children, do they?” Dr. Rosenberg winked at them.
So they’re having another boy. Two boys that would further complete their family and their lives. The best of Tony and Steve, now there would be two of them.
That night as they laid in bed, Tony asked him something he never thought he would.
“Steve, what was your father like?” he whispered his question to Steve. They laid in bed together, Tony on his side facing Steve with Steve’s arms around him as he gently rubbed Tony’s lower back. The growing bump that was their second son nestled protectively between them. If Steve closed his eyes and focused, he thought he could feel their baby boy moving against his stomach.
“My Da? Why? Why do you ask?”
“You never talk about him. I’m just curious.” Tony shrugged, his brown eyes lifted up to gaze into Steve’s blue ones.
“I never seem to have a reason to, I guess. I never knew him. He died before I was born in the Great War. Mustard gas attack was what they told Ma.”
“And your mother never told you about him?”
“She did. She would tell me stories about how they met and how they got married. Dad’s family settled in Boston, you see. He had a little sister, I think. I might still have some cousins up there, or maybe second cousins.” Steve told Tony.
“Hmm,” Tony hummed, Steve’s gentle massage on his lower back felt good, “we should go visit sometime. If you want.”
“Sure.” Steve agreed, “from the stories Ma would tell, he sounded like a hero. He wanted to serve his country. It was hard for Irish people back then, you know. It’s hard for him to get a job on account of being Irish, so he saw the army as a way to proof to society that he was more than a drunken Irish. Ma always said that Da had no patience for intolerant people and bigots. Ma said he once got in a fight with a diner owner who refused to serve Black customers. Needless to say both he and the people he stood up for was thrown out and banned from that diner for life.”
“He sounded just like you.” Tony chuckled.
Steve responded in concert, “He does, doesn’t he? For the longest time when I was growing up I wanted to be just like him. I only knew the stories Ma told, but what she told me he was a warrior even before he ever stepped foot onto the battlefield. He moved away from Boston, partly because he saw how segregated it was even as a Northern city. Ma said he would bring people that worked with him at the meatpacking plant home with him and offered them a place to spend the night or something to eat. He also refused to join the Union because they refused to let Black and Jewish workers be members.”
Tony was silent as Steve relayed the stories of his father’s life, the only sign that he was listening was his slow stroking of Steve’s cheekbones as he talked. “He sounded like a one man warrior.”
“Yeah.” Steve chuckled, “I bet if he lived long enough he would be down in DC marching with Martin Luther King Jr or protesting Vietnam.”
“I have no doubt about that.” Tony smiled softly in agreement, “Steve, I want to name our son after your father. I want to name him Joseph.”
“Tony…”
“A fitting tribute to a good man gone too soon, don’t you think?”
“Tony I-- I don’t know what to say.”
“Hmm,” Tony smiled and nestled closer to Steve, kissing his lips softly, “say yes. You have loving parents, Steve. And I don’t want the legacy of their kindness and generosity to stop with you. I want it to continue long after we’re gone. Everyone knows who my parents are-- they have buildings named after them, but your parents don’t have that-- and I want our children to know them too, to know that their legacy was more than fame and fortune. That they’re also descended from people who dedicated their lives to serve others. ”
“Okay, Tony. We’ll name him Joseph.” Steve choked up a little, “Thank you, Tony. I’ve never even thought about it. Mostly because I didn’t think we would even have a second chance at having a son.”
“Neither did I, stud. But after Dr. Rosenberg said we’d have another son, I thought it only fitting to name him after one of his grandfather’s.”
“And you chose my Da.”
“Please,” Tony scoffed, “no son of mine would ever be named Howard. One Howard Stark in the history of the world is more than enough. And now you made me say his name in our bed, ugh, Steve...”
Steve laughed at Tony’s whining, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Diaper duty’s on me for the foreseeable future.”
“You bet it is.”
“Have you thought of a middle name?” Steve asked him.
“I was thinking of using my mother’s maiden name for his middle name: Carbonell. What do you think?”
“Joseph Carbonell Stark Rogers. I like it. It’s got a nice ring to it.”
“Isn’t it?” Tony said again, and Steve just had to kiss that sly smile off his face and let Tony feel how happy and content he made Steve just by being with him and being by his side. Tony continued to make his dreams come true, and there was nothing in this world or the next would ever come between them.
Joseph Carbonell Stark Rogers was born on a rainy Monday morning on Veteran’s Day, affirming Steve and Tony’s decision to name him after the man whose sacrifice they were honoring on the day World War I ended one hundred years ago.
It was as good a day as any for Joseph Rogers’ legacy to live on.