There was something in the way she looked at him when she answered, in her too fast, too determined voice. Clint knew, he shouldn't allow himself to realize and even less think about it. Not when she clearly didn't want to. Of what use would it be, starting to theorize now? Even if things weren't being quite so certain, now that she would have the right doctors around her helping her, and science far more development than when she had had her first child... In the end it would cause her just more pain if it didn't work out. And the hell he would do anything to be the reason for that.
"I'll get on the phone for you if you want, see if we can an appointment for a check up tomorrow."
He knew there were at least one or two gynecologists on that list Angelina had given him. He just hadn't been able to talk her out of the idea of a possible pregnancy- ironic enough, now that he thought about it. One of them would have to legalize the... the operation, from what he vaguely remembered. He'd been the shoulder to cry on for a former field partner whose girlfriend had gotten pregnant some years ago, and he didn't think, things would be much different in another civilized country nowadays.
They would have to get through this appointment and a loadshit of uncomfortable questions and then... Then they would get this done. Together. Get rid of the problem before it could even become one...
Something pulsated hard and painful in his stomach at his own thoughts and his tightly clutched hands in his lap began to tremble again. This wasn't a goddamn problem, this wasn't some unfortunate medical condition that Natasha had to heal from. This...
A painful hot breath gasp from his throat, from the strain of putting that train of thought right back where it belonged, far out of reach. He buried his face in his hands, elbows propped heavily on his knees, and pressed one thumb and forefinger forcefully against his closed eyes until it hurt. Just a moment to keep himself together, that was all. He was fine, he had to be, for her.
He felt his shoulder tremble, the strain in his hardly tensed legs, and clung on to all these sensations with his life while he recited every single paragraph of S.H.I.E.L.D. protocols he had ever remembered in his head. One by one, in four or five different languages in his head and back. Just to keep himself away from breaking under that lurking, dangerous realization what it was they were talking about here.
No choice, no way out, no use it wasting any of his energy on it. Not when Natasha needed that energy so much more right now.
But no matter how loudly he screamed stupid numbers and stiff phrases at himself in his head, his own voice couldn't be loud enough to drown that one doubtful, reproachful little whisper in the very back of his mind.
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Date: 2014-06-09 12:50 pm (UTC)From:**********
There was something in the way she looked at him when she answered, in her too fast, too determined voice. Clint knew, he shouldn't allow himself to realize and even less think about it. Not when she clearly didn't want to. Of what use would it be, starting to theorize now? Even if things weren't being quite so certain, now that she would have the right doctors around her helping her, and science far more development than when she had had her first child... In the end it would cause her just more pain if it didn't work out. And the hell he would do anything to be the reason for that.
"I'll get on the phone for you if you want, see if we can an appointment for a check up tomorrow."
He knew there were at least one or two gynecologists on that list Angelina had given him. He just hadn't been able to talk her out of the idea of a possible pregnancy- ironic enough, now that he thought about it. One of them would have to legalize the... the operation, from what he vaguely remembered. He'd been the shoulder to cry on for a former field partner whose girlfriend had gotten pregnant some years ago, and he didn't think, things would be much different in another civilized country nowadays.
They would have to get through this appointment and a loadshit of uncomfortable questions and then... Then they would get this done. Together. Get rid of the problem before it could even become one...
Something pulsated hard and painful in his stomach at his own thoughts and his tightly clutched hands in his lap began to tremble again. This wasn't a goddamn problem, this wasn't some unfortunate medical condition that Natasha had to heal from. This...
A painful hot breath gasp from his throat, from the strain of putting that train of thought right back where it belonged, far out of reach. He buried his face in his hands, elbows propped heavily on his knees, and pressed one thumb and forefinger forcefully against his closed eyes until it hurt. Just a moment to keep himself together, that was all. He was fine, he had to be, for her.
He felt his shoulder tremble, the strain in his hardly tensed legs, and clung on to all these sensations with his life while he recited every single paragraph of S.H.I.E.L.D. protocols he had ever remembered in his head. One by one, in four or five different languages in his head and back. Just to keep himself away from breaking under that lurking, dangerous realization what it was they were talking about here.
No choice, no way out, no use it wasting any of his energy on it. Not when Natasha needed that energy so much more right now.
But no matter how loudly he screamed stupid numbers and stiff phrases at himself in his head, his own voice couldn't be loud enough to drown that one doubtful, reproachful little whisper in the very back of his mind.
But what if there was a way?