"Okay...how do you feel?"  Tony looked at you with apprehension and a hint of excitement in his eyes, waiting to see if the modifications would cure your morning sickness that had become all day sickness.  "Anything?  Good?  Bad?"

"So far, just a little dizzy," you answered, sitting up very slowly with Steve holding his arm around you for support.  "I think my eyes just need to adjust.  Do I need to wear these things all the time?"

"Whenever you feel sick, yeah."

"So, all the time," you groaned.

As you tried to sit up fully and push up to stand once you felt as if you were able, Steve's focus was on you and his expression full of concern, waiting for any signal to sit you back down again.  All he could think of was the terrible experience you had with the triplets, and he was anything but eager to repeat that, knowing that you would fully agree.  "You know, we could just ask Wanda to help you again if this isn't working."

"No, I think we're okay," you answered cautiously, looking around the room slowly as to not make any sudden movements until you knew your equilibrium was settled.  Tony said something that caught your attention, but you couldn't quite make out what it was; you turned your head to look in his direction, but it must have been too fast for the glasses to adjust, sending a flash of debilitating nausea through you and leaving you to create quite the mess all over Clint when he couldn't jump away fast enough.

"Not gonna yak," he mumbled, pulling off his shirt, "keep it together, Barton.  Your kid's fault..."

"I'm sorry...Clint..."

He was quickly undressed down to his underwear and socks, scooping up his clothes and running off towards the elevator with a wave and the hint of a gag still in his voice, "don't be sorry, (Y/N)!  You can puke on me anytime!"

"Anytime?" Steve chuckled, helping you to lie back down, taking the glasses to give back to Tony.  "I think you need to see how much you can get him to do during this pregnancy, doll.  Could be fun."

~~~

Ultimately, Steve was right; Wanda was once again your primary relief for your sick stomach, but if she minded, she sure didn't say anything.  At one point, Anthony even gave it a try just to see if he could do it, but he came up a little short much to his dismay.  As each month passed, the sensation became less and less until finally it was gone; you were able to enjoy the rest of time with Natasha and Clint before the big day, helping them to get everything ready so that you had plenty of time to spare.  When it had come down to the final month to go, it was clear to everyone but themselves that they had gone too far.

"We have three cribs, Nat.  You guys can have one.  Please, just take one."

"But Tony made those for the triplets," she argued, "and I think he might already be making one for us."

"Seriously?  I told him not to.  There's no reason why you can't just take one of ours.  Hell, you could put one at the tower too and still have one to spare."

She glanced at you coyly, continuing to unpack the supply of clothes that she had picked up earlier in the day.  Her bed was covered in more onesies and baby t-shirts than even you had needed with three little ones, but she continued to buy more; the closet and dresser were stocked full and now she was struggling to find room for any more.  "Don't think you'll ever need a crib again?" she asked, turning around aimlessly with her hands full of clothes and nowhere to put them.  "Or maybe a onesie...or a hundred?"

"I told you that you bought too many."

"But look at this one," she replied eagerly, dropping all but one that she held up with a wide smile on her face, "it's baby Cap!  How could I say no to this?"

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus, give me that," you gasped, ripping it from her hands.  The little outfit was an almost exact replica in its colors and pattern, matching Steve's suit perfectly.  It even had a shield on the back and a hood that looked like his helmet, complete with the large A on the front.  "Where did you get this?"

"Etsy!  They have so many cute things on there!  I'm so broke now!"

"I can tell, and I'm glad that I didn't know about this five years ago."

"Come on, (Y/N), you want another one," she scoffed, pulling the outfit back from your hands, "it's okay to admit it."

"It would if I did, but seriously, I don't.  One cute little Cap onesie isn't enough to change my mind, sorry to say."

"Okay, but how about the Cap onesie, and..." she stopped, digging around on her bed, "this Winter Soldier one!" she popped back up, waving the garment in the air.  "It has the metal arm, (Y/N)!  You need to put a baby in this!"

Her excitement definitely was contagious, making you laugh aloud at her enthusiasm for babies; something that you never thought you would see from your deadly assassin friend.  Over the course of this pregnancy, she had transformed into the nesting mommy, getting everything at the compound ready for an arrival that was still four weeks away.  They had the nursery attached to their room fully stocked and then some, with a fair amount of their baby gear being stored in your old nursery for them now that your kids had graduated to their own rooms.

"You can put a baby in it just as easily as I could now," you replied, stopping with a quiet gasp at a hitch in your side.  "Stop kicking me, you little turd.  I swear, Nat, your kid thinks that my stomach is a foot rest.  I can feel toes right here."  You grabbed her hand and pressed it to your stomach, waiting for the giggle that she gave every time she felt her little one move.

"I'm never going to get over how weird this is.  There's a person in there.  My person."

"Yeah, Nat, that's how it...works..."

"What?"

"I think your person kicked a little too hard."  You took a few quick steps towards their bathroom to try to get away from the carpet, but you didn't make it fast enough, turning back to her with a grimace.  "You ready?"

"For what?" she asked, but stopped abruptly when the answer was obvious by the large area at your feet that had soaked the carpet.  "Oh...OH!  THAT!  Now?  Okay...okay, just...hold on..." she panicked, rushing around the room to find her phone, the carefully folded baby clothes now flying from her hands in a frenzy as she tossed them aside in her search.

"FRIDAY, could you please call Steve and Clint?  It's time to have a baby and Nat's losing her mind."

"Right away, (Y/N)."

"How are you so calm?" Nat panted, running from the room and down the hall to yours, returning moments later with your suitcase.  "How long do we have?  Are you gonna make it to the hospital this time?  Should I put blankets on the floor?  How do you feel?"

"Natasha, calm down," you ordered her sharply, grabbing her arm.  "You're no good to me in a panic.  I've done this before, okay?  Everything is fine, and I need you to just...knock it off."

"Yes, ma'am."

You had barely a moment to sit and rest before Steve and Clint rushed into the room, so frantic that they nearly wedged themselves in the door when they tried to push past each other in their hurry.  Steve rushed to your side and helped you to stand again while Clint took Nat in one arm and your suitcase in the other to lead the way out.

"Everyone needs to calm down," you hissed, sucking in a harsh breath when a twinge of pain struck, "I've got this, okay?  Last time was triplets, on the floor and with Vision's head between my knees.  Literally anything is going to be better than that."

~~~

"Hey, Mom.  Can we come in?"

"Of course," you replied, rolling over in your bed to greet your trio, "come on in.  Did Grandpa bring you guys?"

"Yeah, he's ordering dinner and wanted us to see if you could have anything," Grant answered, taking quick steps to join you at the side of your bed.  "Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm good."

Brooklyn followed readily behind her brother, taking a stand next to him and grabbing your hand in hers, "I want to brave like you someday, Mom.  Uncle Clint and Aunt Nat are outside talking about you and how much they owe you for this.  There's a lot of crying."

"Oh, no, really?  I don't want them to feel like they owe me.  I wanted to...do...okay, hold...on..." you paused, closing your eyes and shifting your concentration to ride out a wave of pain.  It was coming to you faster now, with shorter breaks in between; each episode grew stronger, but it also meant that you were closer to being done with it all.  "Sorry...guys..."

"Here," Anthony offered, resting his hand on your forehead, "let me try."

You kept your eyes closed but could identify the sounds of the faucet turning on in your bathroom; when you opened them again, all three kids were still next to you but the sound continued.  Brooklyn waved her hand and a wet cloth floated across the room from the bathroom, landing gently in her hands so she could place it on your head.  "Does that help?"

"Yes, thank you, baby.  You're getting better at that."

"Where is the worst part?" Grant asked, making his way around the bed to stand next to Anthony.  "Is it your back?"  He rubbed his hands together a few times, eliciting a warm orange glow from within them.  Slowly as to not surprise you, he softly pressed one hand and then the other onto your back, spreading a heat into your muscles that almost immediately relaxed them; between him and Anthony, you suddenly had virtually no pain.

"That's it," you sighed, "I'm taking you guys to Disneyworld.  You don't have to beg anymore.  Anything you want, you got it."

"Well, that was our goal in all of this, Mom," Anthony chuckled, "we've got you right where we want you."

"Seriously?  Dad begs more than we do," Brooklyn added.  "He wants a pair of those Captain America Mickey ears so bad.  You know he's gonna make us all get them and wear them around the park like a bunch of dorks."

"I'm getting the Iron Man ears," you smirked, giving her a quick wink.  You were about to say more, but another wave broke through what your boys were controlling, and this time it was different; it was much stronger, catching your breath in your throat and leaving you struggling to keep your focus.  "Guys...get...Dad..."

"Is it now?" Grant asked nervously, running for the door past his siblings who were right behind him, making a straight run to the nurse's station to get help.

"Dad!  I think it's now!" Anthony called out, leaving Brooklyn to go get Clint and Nat.  "She's ready to come out!"

"Wait," Clint stopped dead in his tracks, the color draining from his face at the realization of what he had just heard, "how do you know...did you say she?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Clint!  It just slipped!" Anthony backpedaled with a grimace and a slapped hand over his mouth.  "When I was helping Mom, I could sense her too.  I thought you guys knew, I'm sorry!"

"Oh, no, Ant, it's okay!  Don't worry, it's okay!  It's better than okay..." Clint sighed, grabbing Nat's hand before pushing your door open to lead her inside, following quickly behind Steve, "it's perfect."