When you woke up again, you definitely weren't in the comforts of home as Steve had promised; you were in a cold, sterile room filled with beeps of monitors and blankets that scratched at your skin beneath them. You pushed up on your elbows to look around, but your head was heavy and spinning, leaving your vision swimming and forcing you back down. Whatever medications that they had given you, they were more than doing their job to keep you relaxed.

"Hey, there you are," Steve greeted, setting down the magazine that he had read several times over. "How are you feeling? You okay?" He pushed his chair closer and took your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over it to keep you calm; the last time he had seen you with your eyes open, you were anything but.

"What happened?"

"You had a panic attack. Everything's fine, baby's good, don't worry. The doc did say that you need to take your stress level way down though, doll."

"No shit."

"Come on, language," he huffed under his breath. He didn't mean it to be rude, it actually came out as more of a reflex now than a legitimate concern. It had become a running joke amongst the team since the first time it slipped out, and he had fallen into the pattern of absurdity. "Just tell me what you need me to do to make that happen, okay? Anything you need, I'm going to do."

"I know," you agreed, "and I think that what I need...is for you to step back. This is between me and T'Challa, and it has to stay that way. It's not that I don't appreciate everything, Steve, because I do. But if I'm going to figure out where to go from here-"

"Unhand me!"

Both you and Steve startled at the voice just outside of your door, but you knew immediately who it was, and that the Hulk was either not as good of a guard dog as you had hoped, or he was no match for Okoye after all. The door swung open and banged against the wall under the force, making the Captain instinctively jump to his feet to block her from you. When she stepped through the door, Okoye was panting and disheveled, as you had never seen from her before.

"Ma'am, I think you should stay right there."

"(Y/N)," Okoye spoke to you, looking past Steve without regard, "T'Challa is here...but before he speaks to you I must apologize for how I reacted and the words that were spoken. I still believe in what is right for my country, but I did not handle the situation with regard for your feelings, and...I am sorry."

"Okay," you answered, but you refused to look her way. "I accept your apology, thank you. Where is he?"

"Just outside, but I asked that he wait until I speak first, and he allowed me the favor."

"He allowed you the favor, or you were able to outrun him here?"

Okoye turned away and back towards the door without anything further. She paused just inside the barrier and paused, glancing back over her shoulder with the smallest attention paid to your best friend. "Thank you for not interfering, Captain. T'Challa will arrange the repairs of the damages to your facility."

"Damages?" he gasped. "What damages? What did you do?"

"The green beast is a formidable opponent," she smiled to herself. "The next time we meet, it would be best to hold the spar outdoors."

All Steve could do is stand silent with his mouth agape, imagining to himself what that battle must have looked like, and feeling a sudden strike of sadness that he had missed it. The moment was quickly and efficiently dashed, however, when T'Challa stepped through the door and excused Okoye. He stood steady, hands clasped behind his back and expecting Steve to leave without delay. T'Challa was a stoic and determined man, and his posture made it perfectly clear that he wasn't about to back down for anyone; particularly for Steve Rogers.

"Captain."

"Your Highness."

"Thank you for your attentiveness, and helping (Y/N). I am in your debt."

"There's nothing to repay," Steve shrugged, "there never will be. You should know that by now."

"Yes, I should."

As the two men continued to toss short exchanges at each other, your eyes were locked on T'Challa, waiting for him to look back, but he wouldn't until he was done with Steve; it would be considered impolite, and you could see that he was trying to do better than the last time you spoke. He was committed to his manners until you saw the quickest shift in his gaze towards you, and then he couldn't maintain the conversation any longer.

"Captain, if I could please have a moment alone with (Y/N)?"

"Of course," Steve agreed, turning to you. "I'll be just outside if you need me. I know you can handle it, but still."

You didn't offer a reply, other than to release his hand so that he could go. He gave T'Challa a curt nod as he passed, closing the door quietly behind him. You could see his shadow move in the hallway, watching until his outline was fully out of view before you could say anything; it wasn't that you were worried about his interference, but you wanted to hold your own determination, and keep this between you and T'Challa as much as possible. "Hi," you greeted softly, trying to maintain your wavering voice, "thanks for coming by."

"(Y/N), I am not simply coming by for a visit, or to offer my congratulations. I'm here to be at your side, as I should have been when this..." he stopped, taking a long, shaking breath, "when this happened to you and put you into this bed. I was the cause of this. It was my words and my anger that incited your panic. I should have been the one to care for you, but I failed in my duty...my commitment to you."

"You're here now."

"Will you allow me to stay?"

"Will you stop treating me like I'm one of the citizens under your rule?"

"I'm sorry, my love, I truly am. I behaved like a child, but I was speaking through my fear. I want only to protect you and our child, from the threats that are out there, and that may seek you out as a way to harm me or Wakanda. I am terrified, (Y/N)," he paused, and you could see him struggle to hold his composure, "I am terrified and I don't know how to do this."

"And you think that I do?" you scoffed. "T'Challa, this is the first time that we've seen each other since we found out, and not once have we said anything even close to being happy about this. I know that this wasn't in the plan, and it definitely muddles things up. But beyond all of that, there's one thing that I am one hundred percent sure of."

"What's that?"

"That if I was worried about how your people looked at me before, it was nothing compared to how they'll stare now."

~~~

From that moment on, T'Challa was true to his word, never leaving your side during the night that you were kept in the hospital for observation. Steve had gone home to give an update to the team on everything that had happened, but he promised to return first thing in the morning just in case the King decided to try to take control again despite your wishes. You couldn't convince him that the overprotectiveness wasn't needed, and it was just easier to thank him and send him on his way.

You didn't sleep much that night, lying on an uncomfortable mattress, with the constant interruption of nurses checking on you and taking readings from both you and the baby. With every visit, T'Challa woke as well to watch and listen to everything, determined to experience as much as he could to make up for the lost days without you. He had begun the night in a recliner at your side, but it didn't take long to find him in the bed next to you, curled against your side to keep in constant contact out of his pure fear that you might be lost to him.

"(Y/N)?"

"Hmm?" you murmured in your slumber, not sure if the voice were his or if you were imagining it in your half-asleep state.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Will you marry me?"

"Probably."

A quiet rumble of laughter in his chest vibrated softly against you as he held you close, his arm lazily draped over you to rest his hand on your stomach. This moment was the first time that you had fully connected since you had each learned of where your futures were going, and now that you were together, no matter what words had been spat at each other in anger, it was as if nowhere else in the world would be right.

"Probably? Oh, my love, how you hurt me."

"I don't mean to," you clarified with a little giggle, "I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting to hear that now, and here of all places. I was also nearly asleep."

"Okay, so now that you're awake?"

"T'Challa-"

"If the answer is anything other than a yes, please don't say any more," he urged. "I can't bear to hear anything else right now. But it's okay, I understand that my timing is ill-advised. I will ask again when the time is right, and when I can offer myself and my life to you in the way you deserve."

He was so right; the timing of his question sucked, to say the least. There was so much to talk about before even considering what he was asking, and so many questions that you had for him that you couldn't keep them all straight beneath the veil of your exhaustion. All you wanted right now was to have him at your side, and to sleep. Everything else that could be asked of either of you would have to wait until morning.

"Let's just sleep, okay?" you asked softly. "We can talk about this tomorrow."

"Of course," he agreed readily, pulling you in even closer to him, "again, I'm sorry. You need to rest so that we can go home...to whichever home you choose, (Y/N)."

~~~

As it would turn out, the home that you would return to was neither yours or his; the next morning you were told by the doctor that he was ordering time away from the team, and time away from the stress that put you into the hospital in the first place. That meant time away from T'Challa and the talk that you desperately needed to have.

Clint was the first to offer up a place for you to stay, mentioning that he had room on his farm for one more. Natasha had the idea to call Nick, knowing that he had several safe houses still active that he had kept after SHIELD fell for situations like this. Sam made the offer of his home in D.C., which he hadn't used since moving into the compound; he also knew that it could use a little light cleaning and you seemed like a good option. They were all great ideas, and you had never felt luckier to have such a generous group of people around you, but you knew that this decision had already been made, and anyone who argued would be quickly shut down. You would spend your time away in Malibu, where Tony could best ensure your safety.

Once you left the hospital, it was a whirlwind of activity, getting you packed and onto the quinjet before anyone could interfere; Bruce was ready to go green at any moment if Okoye so much as blinked in your direction, and FRIDAY had deactivated your tracker so that no one outside of Steve and Tony would know where you were.

Not even T'Challa.

"Captain, I am trusting you with the two most important people in my life," he warned, albeit as kindly as he could, "and I know that you will let no harm come to either of them."

"That's not even a question. If there's only one thing that you and I can agree on, it's keeping them safe."

"Good. Thank you." T'Challa offered his hand as a gesture of confidence in Steve, waiting patiently for the man to take it. Steve looked at it with hesitation, but he didn't waver. "If any problems arise, please tell me, and I will be there. Wherever in the world it is that you are taking them."

"Of course," Steve finally nodded, taking the King's hand. "I'll ask Tony to let you know when we've arrived safely."

"I heard my name, and it better be only good stuff," Stark interrupted, setting the last of your suitcases into the jet. "Alright, kids, you're all set. It's time to get this baby vacation started."