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There are rules.
You can't over-stress yourself, you can't drink alcohol, avoid caffeine, don't soak in hot water or visit a sauna or put pressure on your stomach. Common sense, really, most of it and yet here he was, having broken none of those rules and still in trouble.
News of his pregnancy had spread through the media, despite how reclusive he'd become in an attempt to hide it, and that had evidently been too attractive a chance for anyone that wanted Tony dead. He'd done well in refusing to put his suit on whilst nine months pregnant but he could only run so far and fight so much when he had the energy of a 3-week old kitten.
Eventually, he'd managed to grab a brick from beside his arm and hit his attacker over the head with it, kicking him off and straining to push himself to his feet.
According to Helen, he'd been holding his pregnancy well. All the weight that he'd accrued, around 4 pounds of it, had all been pushed to his middle. His face, arms and legs hadn't changed shape at all but all that meant was that they now had to work so much harder just to hold up the baby that he was carrying.
And so, because of that, his legs felt like jelly just after running through an alleyway, and he had to stop and slide down the wall to put his face in his hands. If this attacker woke and found him, he wouldn't be able to do much of anything anymore. He couldn't even lift his head and it was then that he realised his trousers were wet.
"Oh God."
Opposite him was an unused and old office space, now just a welcome home for squatters and rats. It would do.
He pushed himself off of the wall, using all of his strength to shuffle over the ground until he managed to wedge open the door with an arm and crawl into the room. It was empty thank god, and there were abandoned filing cabinets strewn everywhere, which made a perfect hiding place.
He bit his lip as he stood, holding his stomach and holding back a cry at the sudden spike of pain that the movement brought, stepping over a cabinet until he could sit himself down between a group of them. The room was dark and he prayed that there weren't any rats nearby as another contraction ripped through him.
He held back his scream as much as he could, letting out the smallest whimper instead, and letting his head fall back against the wall behind him, "Fuck."
He was still wearing his jacket and managed to shake it off, lifting himself up as much as he could to sit over it as he spread his bent legs against the cabinets beside him. He then pulled his trousers down to his ankles, pressing a hand to his mouth as another contraction ripped through him.
He tried to breath in-and-out as he'd been directed so many times by Helen previously, when preparing for this, but he was meant to be on a bed in the medical bay when it finally happened and not in a goddamn abandoned office space in the middle of the night.
He sucked in breath after breath, pushing himself through it, before flinching when he heard someone shout through the alley-way that he’d just crawled through. His attacker was now awake, and had obviously found his friends.
Holding two hands against his mouth, Tony shut his eyes and held back his scream. This hurt so much more than he’d ever thought it would and he didn’t know if he was even doing this right.
When did he push? And what if something went wrong?
He slumped further down the wall, feeling his eyes sting and praying that someone would come and get rid of these guys so he could go home and have his baby in peace and safety.
Even now, anger over Steve filled his mind. If he hadn’t lied. If he’d been there for Tony like Tony had always been there for him, he wouldn't be alone right now.
Spurned by the thought of him however, he felt the outline of the phone in his jacket’s pocket, jabbing into his thigh like a painful reminder. He tried to lean forward, to pull his jacket free and take the phone out, but this next contraction was around 10x the pain of the previous three and he really did scream this time.
The shouting drew in closer at that, following his scream, and he grabbed at the nearest object he could find, a stapler, and threw it as hard as he could through the opposite window and into the skip that was beneath it. The resounding bang echoed and he hoped that it was enough to lead these assholes in the wrong direction.
After a second it seemed to work and he heard clattering footsteps heading for the skip. He ducked down further between the cabinets, his breath hitching with pain, and it was then that he realised the floor was red with his blood.
“Oh please.” He whispered, his feet slipping on the floor as he struggled to get a grip and push himself back up again, feeling more pain that he ever really thought he could.
He couldn’t do this.
The shouting and footsteps faded when his attackers either gave up or decided he wasn’t worth it. He heard a siren in the background a few minutes later and realised both of those guesses had been wrong however, and they’d just not wanted to get caught.
With them gone, he let out every scream and cry that he’d been holding back. Shoving one of the cabinets against his hips aside, he stretched his left leg out and tried to prop himself up into one of the birthing positions Helen had showed him.
It was agony to move and he felt himself lurch forward with a curse and another scream when the contractions began to ripple closer together and grate so much stronger then their prequels.
“Oh God, help me,” He panted, beginning to hyperventilate and forcing himself to stop, “I can’t do this. God I can’t do this.”
He felt something stretch, a feeling he couldn’t describe even if he were forced to, and somewhere in his brain he recalled every single pregnancy talk that he’d had.
Push. His brain supplied. Push now.
Leaning back, he waited a few moments until he was sure it was what he needed to do, and then with a wail of pain he pushed as hard as he could. He felt his omega's-canal burn with the sensation and just when he thought that he’d done it, and it was over, the pain was back and he slumped against the wall.
“Fuck!” He screamed, panting and huffing until he started to feel dizzy. His feet were wet with blood and he wondered belatedly, when he’d lost his shoes. When he’d run or when he’d crawled? Now, however, he was glad they weren’t on so he could curl his toes in and dig into the floor to ground himself.
His canal ached and he forced himself to push again, feel tears run hot down his face and his thighs shake uncontrollably.
His crying and screaming went on for another half hour until eventually, he ended up with his back on the floor and his legs bent again.
He hadn't any energy left at all and his baby wasn’t even out yet. He’d heard that they could asphyxiate in there if they were almost out and weren’t pushed, but at this point he couldn’t push if he tried. The jacket was still beneath him but the pocket was under his arm now, having been scrunched around as he’d moved, and he turned slightly to pull it free.
The thought of Steve, once again, brought on a fresh bought of anger and he held the phone open in his hand and glared up at the ceiling.
No.
He could do this. He could have a baby, and he could do it without Steve fucking Rogers.
Blowing out his cheeks, he internally prepared himself and dug his nails into his thighs as he gave one last huge push. He felt the stretch, and the burn, and then there was the sound of something squelching. He fumbled with a hand and reached down to feel a soft bump protruding out of him. His baby's head.
Panting again, knowing he couldn't leave it too long to push now, he screamed out another push and sobbed when at last he felt the full body of his baby slip out of him. He fell back, gasping, and a moment later he heard it cry. With energy he somehow miraculously found, he sat himself up and reached down once again to scoop his child up and off of the jacket it had landed on.
From the burst of scent that it came off with, he could smell both blood and the hint of an omega. Looking down at it, he scanned his eyes over it's body. Omega scent, female organs. He had an omega girl.
Sobbing again, through both happiness and pain, he held her close to his chest. The umbilical cord stuck to his thighs as he shifted her but he had nothing to cut it with and he was not letting her go ever.
A few seconds later however, he felt another sharp pain in his stomach and canal and had to strain against it with a cry that he muffled into his shoulder. Blood and mess poured out of him and a textbook picture flashed into his mind with the caption 'after-birth'. That was it.
He'd done it.
And he felt like shit.
"Hey," He slurred down to his daughter, watching as she snuffled against him, already exhausted with the world and asleep in his arms, "Hey baby girl. My girl."
Covered in blood and all of the other fluids that had once been inside him, she was one of the most beautiful things that he'd ever seen.
Now if only he could stay awake to look at her some more.
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When he next came to, he was warm.
That was odd, because the last thing he remembered, he'd been lying on a sodden jacket in the middle of a freezing office space. Now, however, he was on a bed and there was sunlight pouring through a window.
With a turn of his head, he could see several people wandering in and out of glass-covered rooms around him and he knew almost immediately where he was.
Wakanda.
"Tony," He froze, hearing his name jump his heart and force blood to rush around him again, "Tony? Are you awake?"
"Where - " He tried, his voice hoarse, "Where is she?"
Steve's face filled his vision as he scooted his chair closer, all worried and bearded.
"She's safe." Steve told him but that didn't answer his question, "She's in a cot, getting checked over. It was cold where you had her." Somehow, he managed to sound both worried and condescending all at once.
"Yeah well, it wasn't exactly my top spot for birthing our child, but hey. We can't have everything." He attempted to sit up, anger clouding everything, but one hand on his chest from Steve was enough to keep him down.
"Our child?" He asked, his eyes wide and earnest.
"Where is she Rogers?" Tony asked again, this time putting more of a plea into his words because Steve didn't seem to realise how much he needed to see his child.
"She is here." Another voice sounded and Tony looked past Steve to see a Wakandan 'nurse' stepping into the room with a blanket in her arms. Swaddled inside was his squirming baby and he immediately tried to sit up again to hold her.
This time, instead of stopping him, Steve helped and he let him only because he needed to at this point in time.
"Hey," He greeted his daughter, holding her against his chest just as he'd done when she'd been born, smiling, "Hey baby."
He felt Steve's eyes on him but ignored them in favour of his daughter's face, memorising every aspect of it. Despite everything, she was so clearly Steve's. Her jaw line, her nose. Her hair was dark like Tony's at least and he hoped her eyes would match his too.
He wouldn't know for a while yet however, "How long has it been?" He asked the nurse without looking and she stepped around to the other side of the bed to check something that was hooked into his arm.
"You arrived in Wakanda early this morning." She answered, fixing his blanket, before deftly leaving the room and closing the door for privacy. He wished she hadn't bothered. He'd nothing to say to Steve.
"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"
Tony rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead, "I haven't used that phone for anything, I wasn't going to use it to announce I was pregnant."
Steve paused, leaning closer, "You were pregnant in Siberia?" He asked, once again, sounding so disapproving.
"I didn't know," Tony admitted, kicking himself for answering and not simply giving the silent treatment, "I had to go to hospital after you left me there in a broken suit," Steve winced, "And I found out then. They said I was extremely lucky that the child had not been hurt."
"You were," Steve breathed, reaching out to put a hand on their daughter's head before freezing and looking at Tony's face for permission, "She's mine?" He asked.
"She's mine." Tony retorted, but for some reason, having a baby had made him a tiny little bit forgiving, and he gave his permission, "You can touch her." Steve placed a gentle hand over her head, smiling broadly, "What's with the beard?" Tony then asked, because he really couldn't keep that back any longer.
"I've been growing it."
"Why?"
Steve met his gaze, looking slightly amused, "I didn't do it on purpose, if that's what you mean. I just - I didn't shave."
"He felt guilty."
Tony turned his head to the side sharply, staring at the door and who had just walked through it. Bucky Barnes stood there, with one arm, and in a red shirt and casual slacks. Tony felt his throat close up.
"Get out." He choked and Steve turned as well.
"Bucky - "
"Get out." Tony growled, refusing to shout near his baby's ear. Bucky took a step back, looking at Steve, and then practically fled out of the room.
Steve turned back toward him, "Tony, he - "
"You get out too."
Steve paused, staring at him,"Tony - "
"Now."
Ridiculously, he felt tears pricking in his eyes, reminding him of everything that had happened. For a moment, he'd felt like everything had been back to normal but seeing Barnes again had changed that.
The nurse from before returned and stopped in the doorway when she saw Tony's tears and the expression on his face.
"Is everything okay?" She asked, her voice clipped.
"No." Tony answered, "I want him out and I don't want him here again." Steve closed his eyes for a few seconds, standing and looking down at Tony and then at the baby.
"I'm sorry Tony." He said, before turning and walking out. The nurse stepped aside to let him, giving him a look of disapproval, as though she was angry at him for making Tony cry. After that, she stepped back out and rolled in a cot to place besides Tony's bed.
"What is her name?" She asked as she worked and Tony realised he'd not named his baby. He'd had names in the running up to this day but now, looking down at her, none of them fit.
"Anna." He decided, his face softening as he thought of how well that fit her.
"I like that." The nurse said, "Foreign names are always so beautiful."
He smiled at her, watching Anna squirm in her blanket and smack her lips, "Yeah."
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Tony stayed in bed for around three days.
A nurse and doctor visited him regularly and he got to sleep staring at his daughter's face in the glass cot besides him. Well, he said sleep but in all honesty, he woke more often than not to the sound of her crying. The nurse had told him that she hadn't suffered from the cold so they were all perfectly normal cries. He was apparently very lucky that they'd been found so soon.
When he'd asked how they had found him, she'd simply said 'phone' and that was that. He remembered holding the phone as he'd given birth. Did Steve have a tracer on it? And if so, how had he known to use it?
Agonising over these questions got him nowhere however and he knew, deep down, that he'd have to speak to Steve again. He'd been good at staying away as Tony had demanded, which was something he could give him in way of credit, especially as he was pretty sure that this was as much Steve's first child as it was his own and he was keeping her from him.
He deserved it, he reminded himself constantly, but in the end he couldn't keep doing this. They had to clear the air and he needed to work through this. If not for him, or the Avengers, but for the sake of his daughter who would one day wonder why her parents didn't speak to each other.
Once he'd asked for Steve to be called to his room, he mentally prepared himself to see him, but as soon as Steve walked in freshly-shaved he burst into tears.
Steve ran in the rest of the way, his hands hovering as though he'd no idea whether he should touch Tony or not, "Tony? Should I go? What is it, what happened?"
"I was so scared, Rogers," Tony cried, pushing his hands away and struggling to calm himself down, "I was so alone and so scared in the dark. I had to have my baby alone and I didn't know what to do! Because you weren't there!" He wiped at his face, angrily, "How could you do this to me? How could you lie all that time and then just leave?"
Steve stared at him, looking both sorry and lost. He pulled a chair around and sat in it, taking one of Tony's hands in his, "I don't - look. You know there's nothing I can say to make this better Tony. I could apologise a thousand times and it wouldn't make it right."
Tony looked at him, "Why was he more important?" He asked, "Why was keeping him safe more important than being honest with me?" He knew the answer already, of course he did, but it still hurt and he hadn't been able to stop himself from asking.
Steve dipped his head, pressing the hand that Tony had let him hold in his against his forehead, "It's not that he was more important. I lied because - god I don't even know how to explain it."
"Try." Tony said.
"I was scared." Steve finally admitted, "I was scared of losing you. Of seeing you learn how your parents had died. I was telling the truth, before, I didn't know it was Bucky but - "
"But that wouldn't have changed anything," Tony finished for him and when Steve didn't argue that, he sighed, "So it was about you. Not me."
"I'm sorry Tony."
"Yeah I get that."
"No." Lifting his head up now, Steve leaned closer, "I am so sorry. For everything. I don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell because of me, you and our baby could have died. After today I'll go, and not come back I swear. But can I just - " He paused, looking at the cot, "Can I hold her? For just a moment?"
Tony looked down at Anna as well, watching as she kicked her little feet against her blanket and looked up at the ceiling; very unimpressed with everything. She'd opened her eyes a few hours after Steve had left the first day and Tony's hopes had been right. Her eyes had been as brown as his.
"Okay." He whispered and Steve didn't move for an entire minute, like he believed he'd misheard, before then letting go of Tony's hand and gently reaching into the cot as he went to stand beside it. Supporting her head, he lifted Anna into his arms, and she looked absolutely tiny within them. Steve held her and stared at her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world. And, according to Tony as well, she really was.
"What did you call her?" Steve asked, rocking her slightly as he moved from side-to-side.
"Anna." Tony answered, watching the scene with some strange emotion filling his stomach.
"Anna Stark." Steve tested out, "Hey Anna." She let out a hiccup of a noise and the smile Steve gave her was almost blinding, "No middle name?" He then asked and Tony shrugged.
"I still can't believe she's here and that she's alright, let alone think of anything else." He said, "And speaking of. ... how did you even find me?"
Steve met his gaze over Anna's head, "The phone," He answered, "You rang it. And when I answered, I could just hear a baby ... I could hear Anna crying. We tracked it and found you in that dump."
"I never dropped her, did I?" Tony asked, a dawning horror filling him as he remembered falling unconscious right after giving birth, "I - she was in my arms."
"You never dropped her," Steve swore, "When I got there, you were still holding her. You only let go when we got you in bed here and the nurse took her to get cleaned." He scanned the bed for an area Tony hadn't taken up and sat down on it, right beside Tony's legs, "I don't think I've ever been more scared than when I saw you lying there, covered in blood and unconscious."
"Serves you right," Tony said, the words venomous but his voice soft.
"Yeah." Steve agreed, before adding, "What about Maria? For her middle name?"
Tony froze, his heart clenching, and yet it fit. "Anna Maria Stark." He tried before startling when Steve suddenly leant in to kiss him, "What are you doing?" He ducked back to avoid it, his eyes wide.
"I'm sorry," Steve immediately apologised, "I just - it felt - I'm sorry."
Tony just blinked, "You shaved." Was all he could think to say and Steve nodded.
"Yeah you - you didn't seem to like it." He admitted, "And Bucky was right. It was because I felt guilty."
Almost timidly, Tony reached out to cup the side of his face, unsure of why or what he was doing and following his instincts only, "I'm not ready to talk to him." He said and Steve turned his head to press a kiss to the inside of his palm.
"I know."
"I am sorry about his arm. I get it wasn't him, it was the soldier, I just - when I saw - "
"I know."
"But Anna deserves to have a father. And the world deserves to have the Avengers back."
"One step at a time," Steve promised and it was then that Tony remembered why he'd loved him in the first place, "Everyone wants to meet her." He then added and Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Who's everyone?"
"Sam. Natasha, Wanda, Clint. Even T'challa wants to see."
Tony scoffed slightly, only to widen his eyes when he suddenly realised something, "Wait. Did someone let Pepper know where I am? Or Rhodey? It's been a few days and I've - " Steve shushed him with a single look.
"Vision came here the day after I left and I let him know what had happened." He said. "He promised to tell Rhodey and I assumed he'd tell Pepper once he knew. Rhodey called a few hours after and wanted to talk to you but you were asleep and when he saw that, he said that he was going to try to permission to travel to Wakanda and see you."
Tony stared at him, "Why didn't I know this?"
"I tried to tell the nurse to tell you," Steve promised, "But I don't think she likes me. She just ignored me every time."
"You made me cry," Tony explained, sliding his hand off of Steve's face and putting it in his lap, "Of course she doesn't like you." At that, Anna decided to let out a sound that wasn't quite a wail but would be soon, and Steve immediately made to give her to Tony.
Tony took her, rocking her slightly and once he spoke down to her, she turned her head to face him and stared up into his eyes with her own fully-aware ones.
"She knows you." Steve smiled.
"She'll know you too." Tony said, looking up at him and smiling back for the first time since he'd seen him again. This time, when Steve leant over to kiss him, he let him, "Baby steps." He said when he tried to kiss him again however, shaking his head, "Baby steps Steve."
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