"There's nowhere to land," Steve growled. "Stark, just hold position over the roof and I'll jump down." He hurried to the back of the jet with Tony struggling to get into the pilot seat fast enough to hold it in place. "Bring it in as close as you can." His fist slammed against the door control and he stood ready, waiting for it to fully lower and walking out to its edge.

"So, maybe we should call ahead so they let you in?" Natasha called out, bringing her phone to her ear, holding the other closed with her free hand, trying to block the roar of wind filling the cabin.

"I'll just scale the side!" Steve yelled back before he dropped out of sight.

"Father of the year right there, guys," Clint scoffed, reaching out to close the door. "That kid's got no chance at even close to a normal life."

Tony laughed and turned towards the group as he lifted the jet away from the hospital and set a course towards the tower. "Hold on, Barton. At what point, exactly, did you think that was even an option? I can hear it now, 'no, honey, that's your daddy. This one is Chris. That one is Sebastian, this guy is Uncle James. No, that's not Uncle Tony, it's Robert'."

~~~

Chris stood at the doors and lifted the surgical mask to his face, taking a deep breath to steady himself. When the doors to the surgical suite opened, he paused at the cool rush of air hitting his face and the smell of antiseptic and the sterile surroundings. He had never even seen a room like this, so his curiosity was immediately surging, wanting to ask a million questions but reminding himself that now wasn't the time. He saw you being covered on the table at the center of the room with a stool placed near your head; he shook himself to attention for the task at hand and looked to the nearest nurse for her attention.

"Excuse me, is that for me, or where should I go?"

"Yes, Captain, that's for you. Please have a seat."

"No, I'm not-" he began, but she was gone before he could finish. With a small shrug he took his place next to you and leaned in close to your ear, kissing your cheek through the scratchy cloth of his mask. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey, Chris."

"Okay, how do you always know that it's me?"

"Are you being serious right now?" you replied sleepily, beginning to feel the affects of the relaxing medications being pushed into your veins. "You have softer eyes."

He perked up at the admission, smiling beneath his mask with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes beginning to build. He began to wonder what else you might say if asked under the influence of this apparent truth serum they'd given you. Chris felt just a small pang of guilt at what he was thinking about doing, but this may be the only shot he had. He glanced around the room at the doctor and nurses scurrying to their places and preparing to work, deciding that he could get a few minutes of entertainment in before everything started.

"What else is different about me?"

"Your beard is nice. It's really soft."

It was hard for him to stifle his laugh at the change he was seeing in you, but he did his best to maintain his composure when one of the nurses cleared her throat to get his attention. Chris straightened slightly and gave her a nod, doing his best to remain serious long enough for her to look away.

"Anything else you want to tell me before we get started?"

"You have a cute laugh, like a little kid. It makes me laugh too," you yawned quietly. "But Steve has a better butt."

"Wait, what?" he startled, sitting up straight with his mouth hanging open beneath it's cover. "What's wrong with my butt?" The same nurse turned to him again at the raise in his voice, leaning back just slightly to see the butt in question, but silently shaking her head and returning to her work. "Excuse me, you there," he called to her. "I saw that. You think it's nice, right?"

"I really can't say, sir," she mumbled, trying to not engage in the conversation under the disapproving eyes of your doctor.

"My butt is fabulous, thank you very much," he announced to the room and nodded in satisfaction. Seeing a quickening of the action on the other side of the screen that covered your lower half, he turned serious again and leaned back down to your ear, "you're braver than any superhero on that team, okay? You've got this."

~~~

Steve had successfully scaled down the side of the hospital and ran into the lobby, slightly short of breath; not from the work he had just done but from his building anxiety at getting to you. "Excuse me, can you tell me where my wife is? She came in a short time ago in labor and I think she's going into surgery soon."

"Ah, Captain Rogers, yes we've been expecting you," the receptionist greeted, rapidly typing your information into her computer as he tapped his fingers on the desk top. "Sir, take a deep breath," she smiled.

"Right. Right, sorry," Steve sighed, pushing his hands into his pockets to keep them still.

"She's in surgery right now. I'll have someone take you and get you dressed to go in." A nurse in bright red scrubs stepped forward and held out her hand to guide him down what felt like endless hallways and confusing turns that had him lost in moments. The red of her uniform didn't help him from thinking about the scene he was about to witness; surgery involved blood and things that he preferred not to see. Blood in battle was completely different that that being spilled by someone he loved, and now there would be two of you.

Steve hurried and put the paper-like covers over his clothes and shoes, snapping the cap over his head and tying the surgical mask hastily as she led him to your operating room. He stood quietly at the door for a moment, closing his eyes and trying desperately to calm his nerves. Chris would be in there with you, so he knew that you weren't alone, but the guilt of leaving you hadn't passed and it only exacerbated his anxiety. He opened his eyes and pushed the door open, pausing just inside as Chris turned to greet him.

"Hey, man. It's about time you showed-"

"Congratulations, everyone," the doctor announced, holding up a screaming baby into your line of sight. "It's a boy!"

Both Steve and Chris paled slightly at the sight; you weren't sure if it was the blood or the fact that there was an actual baby here now, but you couldn't help but groan at the sound of Chris hitting the floor with a loud thud first, followed by the crash of Steve hitting second.

"Yep," you sighed weakly, "those are my boys. Superheroes, my ass."

~~~

"At least he got her nose," Clint mumbled, tapping his finger gently on the nursery window, trying to get your baby's attention.

"What's wrong with my nose?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with our nose?"

"Our nose?" Steve laughed. "What does that mean?"

"Dude, come on," Chris scoffed, waving his hand between the two of them, "it's the same. Now, his eyes? Those are all yours. According to (Y/N), mine are softer."

Steve turned to him with a quickly stern look, resting his hands on his hips, "when did she say that?"

"Well, she was pretty drugged up, I'll admit that. But it still felt genuine, ya know?" He chuckled to himself quietly, still watching the baby and paying no attention to Steve. "Oh, and you might want to think about growing a beard. She seems to dig it."

Steve took an angry step towards him but was interrupted by Natasha as the nurse brought the baby to the window. "Oh, guys, look at him! Oh my god, he's sooo cute!"

"Alright, calm your ovaries," Tony laughed, "you're freaking me out, Romanoff."

Sebastian arrived, stepping up behind Chris with a firm slap on his back. "Hey, pussy. I heard ya fainted."

"Fuck off, Seb," he groaned. "Steve fainted too."

"Hey! You were supposed to keep your mouth shut about that, Evans!"

"Oh, shit, Rogers! You fainted?" Bucky laughed, leaning forward to catch his breath. "That's beautiful. Oh, that's just beautiful."

Steve rolled his eyes and turned away, returning his focus to the tiny version of him on the other side of the glass. His mind began to race at the questions he had carried with him for the past 7 months, looking at his son who had come too soon, wondering about which version of himself he had passed down. Would this new, tiny boy be subjected to the problems that he himself had faced as a child, or would the serum have spared him from that life? He hung his head at the thoughts barraging his mind and tried to clear them, trying to focus on being happy in the moment, but struggling.

"I know what you're thinking," Chris whispered to him, leaning against the glass and watching his friend. "He looks really healthy, Steve. Even being early, he looks good. They haven't said otherwise have they?"

"No, they haven't."

"Then let's not worry until they give you something to worry about, alright? Just be in the moment. Enjoy this moment, Cap, and let the rest happen as they will." Chris smiled slightly and grabbed Steve's arm, turning him towards the group. "Hey, I've got something that should cheer you up, cuz you know, having a new baby isn't cheerful enough," he snickered. "Hey Seb! Tell Steve what happened to your hand."

Sebastian reluctantly held up his left hand, showing the pink cast that covered his hand and up over his 4th and 5th fingers. "Your beast of a wife crushed my fingers. You'll be getting my bill, by the way."

Steve covered his mouth and stifled a laugh, feeling bad for the guy but unable to quell the pride he had felt for the fact that it was you who did it. "I'm so sorry, and yes, definitely send me that," he chuckled, still unable to stop. "But why pink?"

"It was the only color they had left. Something about their supplies coming in tomorrow," Seb replied, pointing at the staff around him, "but I think they did it on purpose."

"Stark, grab a marker!" Chris suddenly called out, rushing forward and grabbing Sebastian's hand, turning to pin him against the wall, with Bucky quickly stepping in to help. "Dammit, Stan, hold still," he grunted, trying to hold his friend steady so Tony could be the first at the clean pink palette, with the other Avengers ready and waiting for their turn. "It's gonna be a long six weeks, pal."