Chris sat on one side of your bed with Steve standing next to him, Sebastian and Bucky on the other side. With a few flashes of light and a handful of questions, the reporters finally left just in time to take care of official business that you didn't want them to hear. Steve took the pen that was left behind by your nurse and paused, nodding in resolution to put it to the paper sitting on the table over your lap.

"Steve, wait," Chris interrupted in a near panic and grabbing his wrist, "are you sure about this? This is a permanent decision. No going back."

"Yes, we're sure."

"What's with you, man? You're getting worked up over nothing," Sebastian scoffed. "I think it's pretty fucking cool."

Chris groaned and rubbed his palms over his eyes, exhaling loudly and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. "Permanent. You guys, come on."

Steve straightened and furrowed his brow, looking at his friend and not knowing what to say. Instead, he looked to you and tilted his head towards him for you to take over. "Chris," you said calmly with an extended hand, "come here."

"You okay?" he replied quickly, standing at your side with a renewed energy, still in the mindset of your protector even hours later and with your superhero husband at your side. The lack of sleep coupled with the anxiety directed towards Steve for what he was trying to do wasn't helping to calm it in the least.

"Take him." You held the tiny baby up towards him, waiting for him to reach out and scoop him up from you, but it didn't happen. "Come on, he won't break, I promise. You should hold him." With a little more coaxing from everyone in the room, he finally reached out and took the bundle, immediately bringing him to his chest to support him as if he were the most delicate thing he had ever touched. With gentle hushes and coos and a soft kiss to his head, Chris began to rock back and forth with your new son, enthralled in the moment and turning away long enough for Steve to complete the task at hand.

"There. Done."

"Son of a-" Chris spun on his heel and snapped, quickly quieting to a harsh whisper. "You're already using your kid for trickery. Nice, guys. What parenting book did you find that in?"

Bucky grabbed the paper from the table and gave it an approving smile, nudging Seb with his metal shoulder and knocking him into the bedside dresser, grabbing him just before he fell onto his already broken hand. "Sorry! Sorry!" he laughed, bringing his counterpart back onto his feet. "I think this is great, and I'm not jealous even a little bit that I wasn't first."

"You're his godfather, Buck," Steve yawned, the lack of sleep now catching up to him as well. "I don't think there's much to be jealous of." He sat on the edge of your bed and leaned over into it, resting his head on your shoulder and pulling his feet into the bed with him. "Missed you," he whispered contently, intertwining his fingers with yours and closing his eyes. Unable to resist his slow breaths and relaxed body next to yours, you succumbed to sleep easily, leaving the others to return the baby to the nursery for you.

"I'll do it," Bucky announced, taking the little one from Chris. "First godfather task underway!"

Once he left the room and it was just he and Sebastian left awake, Chris gently took the paper from your table and read it with a sigh, wiping away a few tears as they spilled from his long lashes and onto the official document in his hands. "Do you believe it? I never would've thought in a million years..." he faded, handing the paper to Sebastian, watching you and Steve sleep contently next to him.

"I think it has a nice ring to it," his friend agreed. "Christopher James Sebastian Rogers. It's a little wordy, but it sounds like one kick-ass kid if you ask me." He stood silently for a few minutes, but the reaction he was waiting for never came; the long silence filling the room became palpable and uncomfortable. "Hey, Evans? You okay?"

"Dammit, Cap," he sniffled quietly, "just when I was starting to think that I had all the family I would ever need."

~~~

"Steve, you're driving like an old man."

He turned and looked at you with amusement, quickly returning his eyes to the city street before him. "Do we need to review my birthdate again?"

"Just because you are one, it doesn't mean you have to act like one. You're holding up traffic and your son will have had his first birthday before we reach the tower at this speed."

"Would you rather walk?" he smirked with a heavily sarcastic tone.

"I would probably get there faster."

~~~

After what felt like hours of driving the short distance between the hospital and the tower, Steve finally parked in the garage and hurried to the back of the car, cautiously taking the car seat with it's tiny bundle into his hands. He then hurried again to your door, opening it and offering an arm to help you stand.

"Go slow, (Y/N). I can carry you if you need me to."

"If you even try to pick me up, it won't end well for you, Steve. I can walk."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to help."

"I know, babe, I know," you sighed, now feeling a little bad about snapping at him. "It's just that for the past week, all I've had was help. All I want is to take a descent shower, pee by myself, and sleep in my own bed with my husband not crammed in next to me. Oh, and maybe some of that pasta stuff that Clint makes," you stopped, hearing your stomach growl at the thought. "Yeah. Definitely that too."

Steve smiled and wrapped his arm around you, bringing you in to kiss against your hair, "oh, then you're really gonna love me. He should have it ready by now."

"I do love you, but sweetheart, Clint Barton is the only man that I want to see right now." You pulled away from his grip and rushed to the elevator, hitting the button and waiting anxiously for the lift to arrive. After nothing but mass-produced hospital food, anyone who got in your way now would live to regret it.

Steve brought the car seat up to his face and whispered to his sleeping son as he pointed at you with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, "you see that, CJ? That look on mommy's face? There will never be anything else in your entire life that should scare you more than that."

~~~

"Oh, Clint. I could kiss you."

"Then bring it in, girl," he offered, standing from his seat across the table and holding his arms out wide for you. "Steve, turn away. You're not gonna want to see this."

"Keep it clean, Barton," Steve warned, leaning back in his chair with a stern expression and watching very, very intently.

You willingly grabbed Clint, ready for a quick kiss, but gasped when he dipped you back in an effort to get a reaction from Steve. In a split-second decision, you decided to play along, kicking your foot out when he leaned you back, grabbing the back of his neck. When you heard the scrape of Steve's chair against the floor you pushed back and stood, Clint releasing you immediately.

"I got tongue!" he exclaimed, raising his arms victoriously over his head. "I'll cook every day for that!"

"You did not! Stop it!" you hissed between clenched teeth, looking at him as if he had completely lost his mind. "You want to die today, is that it?"

"Pfft, totally worth it."

When you turned back, Steve was standing so close that he was nearly touching you, towering over you both. "You sure about that?" he growled, putting his arm around you and pulling you tightly against him. "Would you like a second to reconsider?"

"Okaaay, I'm think it's time for us to go upstairs," you said calmly, pushing your body back against him, though he stood firm in place. "Steve, let's go. I need to feed your son and we need to try to sleep. It's our first night on our own so I think we should start early, don't you?"

"Mmm hmm," he murmured, still eyeing Clint.

"And, we have the party tomorrow, remember?" you said, turning to put your hands on his chest to keep trying to push him back. "You and Wanda have to pick up everyone early from the airport."

"Right," he sighed, snapping out of his angry trance, "right, I remember." He grabbed your hand and gave his goodnights to the group, turning for one last point of warning at Clint. 'I'm watching you', he mouthed silently.

You saw him and slapped his arm resoundingly with your free hand, shaking your head when he looked at you in shock. "Give it a rest, Rogers, I played along. You watching me too?"

"Always," he whispered in a low tone that gave you a chill, with a sharp snap of his hand on your behind. "I'm not stupid, (Y/N). I never take my eyes off what's mine."

~~~

One hour. One glorious hour of sleep before being awoken by the tiny alarm clock.

"Your turn," you grumbled into your pillow, hoping that Steve heard you. You felt the bed shift and heard the faint whine in his otherwise deep voice as he rolled out of bed and shuffled his feet across the floor. The dim streetlights from the window cast his shadow so that you could see the outline of his messy hair and the hunch in his stature as he made his way to the nursery attached to your room. Closing your eyes again, feeling relief that he had awoken, you drifted quickly back to sleep.

Forty-five minutes.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Do you want me to go?" Steve whispered, rubbing his hand against your back gently. "I don't mind."

"No, I've got it. We take turns, right? That was the deal."

"Good," he mumbled, "I didn't really want to go anyway." He pulled his hand away and rolled over, pushing his pillow firmly over his ears and resuming the quiet snoring that you were now envying.

Two hours and fifteen minutes.

"(Y/N)?"

"(Y/N)?"

"What, Steve?" you snapped.

"I think this one is a two-person job. The baby's winning."

One hour.

"I've got it, I've got it."

You startled awake at the voice you weren't expecting, hearing your door shut gently and just making out the shine of a metal arm in the moonlight. In your state of exhaustion, you began to cry at the sight of Bucky taking this round, thankful for him more than ever before.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve whispered, rolling over to put his arm around you. "I think he's taking his godfather role pretty seriously. And he knows how tired you are."

"Remind me to kiss that boy, too" you mumbled, drifting off before your husband had a chance to argue.

He shuddered slightly at the image in his mind, knowing that his friend would definitely take the chance at messing with him much more eagerly than Clint had. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen." You felt his arms tighten around your waist and a jolt as he pulled you against him, his warm breath in your hair and goose bumps building on your skin when he spoke.

"Mine."