Loki:

Loki blinked, not comprehending. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, that it is your fault this child is parentless," Odin repeated himself, glowering. "Therefore, you shall raise it as your own. Perhaps then you shall learn what we did for you."

"You did nothing for me. And I will not be responsible for some Midgardian child."

"Her name is Y/N Y/L/N," Odin continued, ignoring Loki's protests. "See to her, unless you want to be sent back to your prison."

Loki peered warily over the edge of the crib-like structure containing you. You looked back up at him, smiling innocently. "That wimpering creature? My daughter? I think not."

"I think yes."

How was he meant to look after a child?

Tony:

"Oh my freaking God."

  "Tony."

  "I'm going to be terrible at this."

  "Tony."

  "I don't even like children."

  "Tony."

  "What if I break it?"

  "Tony, shut the hell up!" Natasha yelled.

  He looked at them. "Excuse me? I'm a little busy here."

  Steve sighed. "It's not a warzone, Stark. It's a child. Just go in there and at least look at it."

  He cringed. "But what if it-"

  "Man of Iron, if you do not go in there right now, Mjølnir will go into your face," Thor thundered.

  He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine! Sheesh."

You looked up with big, innocent Y/E/C eyes at the man walking into the room. He made a soft hissing sound of air between his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. A baby. His. Couldn't... he forgot the name... have at least told him he had a daughter? Before dying with no known family capable of raising her?

You began to cry, and his eyes widened in horror. What do you do when babies cry???? "Pepper!" he yelled.

Steve:

Steve walked home through the city, trying to ignore the gasps and strange looks as people saw Captain America. He glanced around at them; it was just so weird that everyone knew who he was. Random strangers running up to thank him, to yell at him, just to look at him. It was a really, really strange feeling. One he was sick of.

In the hopes of avoiding them, he took off down the darker, shadier streets, less bright and friendly with the hustle and bustle of life, more smoke and shadows and hooded people. Of course, he could take any of them in a fight, but he didn't want to hurt anybody and he had to get back to the Tower in time for dinner. Laura was visiting and he didn't want to miss any of her cooking.

That thought, however, was driven from his mind when he heard a soft, sorrowful cry - an infant's. Frowning, he walked over to find you. A small baby abandoned in a cardboard box.

He carefully lifted up the box, glancing around to see if he could spot a parent close by. He looked down at you, and you looked back up at him. "Who would want to leave a little child like you here?" he wondered aloud.

Clint:

Clint paced up and down, unashamedly freaking out. Cooper, Lila and Nathan were at Laura's mother's, and only Natasha as his best friend sat nearby him in the hospital. She glanced up at him as he paced. "She'll be okay, it'll be fine."

"That's what you said when Lila was born," he pointed out, "and Laura nearly died."

"You're exaggerating."

"Of course I'm not. If anything happens to Laura - or my new little girl -"

"This isn't an enemy you can fight, Clint." Her words were sharp but her face sympathetic. "You have to let her fight on her own."

Clint opened his mouth to reply, slightly angrily maybe, when a doctor came over. "Excuse me, Mr Barton?"

He looked up immediately. "Yes?"

"You've got a healthy child. Everything went well. You can go and see them if you like." The doctor smiled and hurried off in a different direction.

Natasha nudged him with a quiet, "Told you so," but he wasn't listening, going straight into the room.

Laura looked up as her husband entered and smiled faintly. "Meet your newest daughter." She held you, a small baby, up to him.

"She's beautiful - you both are." He kissed her on the forehead and then you. "What should we call her?"

"I was thinking, maybe Y/N?"

"Perfect."

Natasha:

"Absolutely not."

  Fury shifted in his chair, tilting his head to consider her with his good eye. "Romanoff, if you don't take her, she'll go to an orphanage. Y/L/N's child? Left in an orphanage?"

  "I'm not looking after a child, Director!" she countered, trying to ignore that the last one had hit home. "I'm an assassin, not a mother. I don't have the time for her. Y/L/N or not."

  "You live with several people in the Tower, Romanoff. I'm sure they'll give you a hand."

Natasha crossed her arms over herself in a slightly protective gesture. "No way is Stark ever looking after her."

"But you're perfectly okay with random strangers caring for Y/N?"

She glared at him, before sighing and looking away. "Fine, dammit. But if this goes wrong it's all your fault, Fury."

Bruce:

"I can't believe this."

"We did what we had to do," Fury replied, but he didn't meet Bruce's eyes. "I suggest you remove yourself from this environment."

Bruce took a step forward, glaring. "I'm not leaving that child here with you, Director."

"Oh?" Fury leaned back, crossing his arms. "And I suppose you are going to look after it?"

"Her. That is a person that you've been experimenting on. A little girl."

"Banner, it was Hydra! We just had to run a few tests-"

"That were hurting her," he broke in. "And yes, I am going to look after her. I don't care if she's dangerous, I'm going to raise her as if she's my daughter. And you are not going to touch her."

What had he just said?

Wanda:

Wanda smiled down at the baby in her arms. "She's beautiful."

Even as a baby, her newborn child reminded her of him. Of the man who'd once said he'd always be there for her, but had left her as soon as he'd found out she was pregnant, claiming he "wasn't ready to be a father". If it hadn't been for Wanda's efforts, Pietro would've murdered him.

Pietro was sitting next to the bed and grinned at his sister. "She got a name yet?"

"Yes," Wanda replied absent-mindedly, before realising what the question was. "Um... Y/N?"

Bucky:

"This brings back memories," Bucky muttered into the earpiece.

Steve immediately replied. "You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, not entirely certain it was true. "Let's just get this over with."

  "Right you are," came Natasha's crisp voice over the earpiece. "Let's go."

  The Avengers raced towards the Hydra base - yet another one - and Bucky went straight for their target. According to the new SHIELD's intel, Hydra was working on something big in Laboratory 13.

  He rushed down the corridor, shooting a pair of guards as he came around the corner. 9, 10, 11, 12-

  Bucky was about to go on when he heard a voice from 12. Not an adult's voice, but the gurgling cry of a small child. He went straight in. The room was empty, stripped bare, equipment packed away in expectation of the Avengers' attack, except for a certain something on the surgery bed. The kind of surgery bed that gave him bad memories. He shook his head as if to clear it and reached up to use his earpiece. "You're not going to believe this. There's a baby in Lab 12."

Pietro:

"Pietro, get as many civilians out as you can," ordered Steve's voice, unusually sharp with the tension of the battle.

  Pietro momentarily hesitated - Wanda was fighting - but nodded, before remembering Steve couldn't see him and saying, "If you say so, Rogers." Wanda could look after herself for a minute so that he could save some innocents.

  He raced towards the streets of the town, spotting a couple of men and hurrying them to safety. He rushed back, glancing around wildly, to see startled but strikingly beautiful young woman holding a baby.  Going towards her, he paused, horrified, to see the bullet hit her almost in slow motion. Quickly, he shot the attacker with near-perfect aim and went to her side, trying to lift her. "Hey. Come on now, yes?"

  She shook her head, grimacing. Blood blossomed through her top. "Not for me. Th-thank you. You'll look after my little girl?"

  Without thinking, he nodded, wanting to comfort her. "Of course."

  "You promise?" The woman looked at him with a gaze of extraordinary intensity, gripping his arm. "Y/N Y/L/N. Her name. You promise to look after her?"

  Pietro took a breath. Considered. But he owed it to her, to the woman for whom he had not been fast enough. "Yes, I promise."

  But she was already gone, limp in his arms, eyes staring unseeing into the distance.