sunshine
Your relationship with the system is going really well, incredible even. But you have a difficult past and the boys are thinking about the future.
Warnings:Â Very sensitive topics discussed in this fic. Pregnancy talk and infertility talk (forced sterilisation). Being drugged for a medical procedure. Inaccurate depictions of DID (only knowledge from the show and some light research). Angsty with a happy ending. Mentions some spoilers for Black Widow. Slightly proofread so prone to some mistakes (as per usual). Word count:Â 4,724 words (11 pages on Microsoft Word!) F!Reader, no use of Y/N.
This took me 3 weeks to write and post, I am so sorry. Inspired by this post by @jupitersmoon167. Also, in true Shannon fashion, there is a coffee shop in this. I swear, one day, I'll move on from coffee shops đ
Steven mostly fronts through this so: Marc internal dialogue. Jake internal dialogue.
You wanted to put your past behind you, you really did.
Ever since Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova destroyed the Red Room and given everyone the antidote for the mind-control agent, you had felt a little lost. You wandered between countries for a while, trying to find yourself. Some of the other Black Widows kept in touch but eventually they went silent, choosing their own paths and creating their own lives, probably trying to let go of the past, just like you were.
You had found your family, but they had also moved on. You didnât even approach them as you watched them from afar for a while, always dressed inconspicuously as not to raise any attention to yourself. They seemed happy. You didnât want to shake up their dynamic.
You eventually settled in London, getting a small, nice, quiet job in a cafĂ© by the British Museum, where all the university students were residing. It was mundane, and thatâs exactly what you needed. You were staying in a hostel for a while before you saved up enough to start renting a flat for yourself, near Camden. The tube was nearby so it wasnât too far from your job and you enjoyed going to the markets in your spare time every now and then. You settled into your new life as well as you could (you still couldnât quite stop the habit of assessing your surroundings and listening carefully to each person you saw in the cafĂ©), and you felt like you had finally started to move on like everyone else had done.
Then you met Steven Grant.
He came into your life unexpectedly and noisily. It was a cold Saturday morning in October and you were opening the cafĂ© for the morning shift, struggling with the key in the lock, when he had solidly bumped into you. He had, of course, taken you by surprise and you immediately went into defence mode, ready to take him out when he was already apologising profusely, claiming he wasnât looking where he was going.
When you both finally looked at each other, it was like something had just clicked into place. He had stumbled again over another apology, but youâd finally found yourself talking to him, telling him it was okay. Heâd given you a smile â that amazing smile â and ran off, apologising again.
You didnât see him again for a few days, but he wasnât far from your thoughts. You felt silly; London was a big place, youâd probably never see him again. But you indulged yourself in your lovey-dovey daydreams that you never used to be able to have. You were actually caught up in one of those silly daydreams when you meet him again, but this time, he wants to buy a tea.
After you fumble (and you never fumble) over making his tea, he takes you by surprise again as he asks you out for dinner that night. You had stared at him with wide eyes, trying to not take notice of the butterflies in your tummy, and the anxiety sitting heavy on your chest. It wasnât that you didnât want to go out with himâŠyou did, very much so. But you were very much âout of the gameââŠactually, you were never in the game.
He had taken your silence as a bad thing and quickly apologised but you told him that heâd just taken you by surprise, that youâd actually love to go out with him.
He met with you after work, a bouquet of all sorts of flowers in his hand.
âI wasnât sure which ones youâd like, so I just got them all,â heâd said, blushing with nervousness.
You about died on the inside about how considerate he was.
He took you to a cute little Italian not far from the cafĂ©. Conversation flowed easily, something that surprised even you; Steven was just effortless to talk to, he always had something to say. You had really enjoyed yourself, despite the awkwardness when Steven had asked about your family, or what you were doing in London. You swiftly avoided answering the question, claiming you âneeded a change of sceneryâ. He didnât push.
Like the gentleman he was, he walked you back to your tube station, making sure you got there okay. It was still relatively busy so he felt more at ease than leaving you alone. You both exchanged numbers at the end of the night and parted with plans for another date and a kiss to the cheek. You felt your face warming up as you watched Steven walk out of the tube station towards the bus stop a few streets down.
Your next date was at the National Art Gallery. Steven had remembered you saying that youâd never been there, and you melted when heâd mentioned that was where you were going. That date, Steven had slipped his hand into yours as he walked you around the museum, telling you about the paintings and statues. He mentioned there was a Da Vinci exhibition coming to the museum so you would have to go again soon together. Your heart swelled at the fact he wanted to see you again.
That date ended with another kiss on the cheek, but it lingered.
The third date was your idea. The weather was getting colder and the ice-skating rink outside the Natural History Museum was back for the season. Steven had admitted he was terrible at ice skating but he was willing to give it a go. You were out of practice too, and you were happy to hold his hand all the way around as you both skated around together. Steven did have a few near tumbles but didnât manage to fall over. There was a French cafĂ© nearby that you had visited a few times and you both stopped by for dinner.
You and Steven spent the rest of your evening huddled close, practically nose to nose as you talked, laughed, hands linked together under the table. You both didnât realise how much time had passed, your umpteenth hot drink of the night sat forgotten on the table, Stevenâs tea long gone cold, until your waitress had informed you that they were closing and you would have to leave.
You ended the third date with a soft kiss under the glow of a lamppost by Stevenâs bus stop.
Steven met up with you for lunch at the cafĂ© at least twice a week, and you were texting each other non-stop. You both made the time to arrange dates with each other, and soon he asked you to be his girlfriend. You didnât hesitate in saying yes, finally feeling like a âregularâ citizen, a person who could just live a normal life.
It was six months since you met Steven that he told you about Marc and Jake.
He had been uncharacteristically nervous as he stepped into your flat; it wasnât the first time heâd been there, he was usually incredibly comfortable in your flat. You tried to be nonchalant, offering him a glass of wine as soon as he sat on your sofa, but he was fidgeting and picking at his cuticles, and he didnât seem to notice when you placed the wine down on your coffee table in front of him.
âSteven, darling?â
He jumped at your voice, as if you had just appeared magically in front of him (he seemed so out of it, you probably did). He gave you a shaky smile, averting his gaze from you quickly. You sighed as you moved his wine glass, taking a seat on the coffee table, leaning forward so he would just look at you. âWhatâs going on?â
Steven gulped nervously before looking at you with an expression you couldnât quite place. âIâm sorry, sunshine.â
It was his new name for you. Heâd called you it randomly one day, but you hadnât batted an eyelid. Then he called it you again, and again, and that was when you queried why.
Heâd smiled at you shyly. âIâm sorry. If you donât like it â â
You had shaken your head at him. âNo, I do. I just wondered why that name in particular.â
Steven blushed but still kept on smiling. âBecause youâre warm. And you make me happy. Like sunshine.â
You felt yourself melt there on the spot.
But now, he was talking what felt like a million miles a minute but nothing was really sinking in. You immediately were thinking the worst. Was he going to break up with you? Had you done something wrong? Maybe he just didnât want to be with you anymore â
âLove?â
You blinked at him, giving him a slightly forced smile as you reached over and grasped his hand, giving it a squeeze. âYes, Steven?â
âI just wanted toâŠI love you. I love you so much, but I havenât been completely honest with you.â
âOh God,â you muttered, quickly pulling your hand away. âYouâre married.â
âNo, no!â Steven said quickly, shaking his head. âNo, Iâm not married. Not evenâŠno, no secret family, itâs just me. WellâŠme andâŠMarc and Jake.â
Your brow furrows at the silence that followed. âWho are Marc and Jake?â
Steven spent the next hour explaining his life before he met you, how he thought he had a sleeping disorder; he was going to bed then waking up in a different place, or heâd go to bed and wake up thinking it was the next day, but a week had passed by. Then he started finding weird stuff in his flat of a man who looked like him but it definitely wasnât him and he had a completely different second life which he didnât know about.
âI have DID.â
You were familiar. At the Red Room, they made you read, made you study. You had to be the best of the best, and that sometimes meant knowing about certain disorders or illnesses. You had to be smart as well as agile in the Red Room. You knew what DID was, and you knew what caused it too.
You felt the familiar urge to rip someoneâs head off. Who hurt your Steven?
Taking a deep breath, you nod at him. âAnd Marc and Jake are the other alters?â
Steven blinked at you, but he didnât question how you knew what DID was. âWellâŠtechnically, I never existed, I wasnât born. JustâŠcreated. Like Jake. By Marc.â
You had cupped his cheeks, giving him no choice but to look at you with unshed tears in his eyes. âYou exist, Steven. You have a life, a body, a mind. Donât ever think that you were justâŠâcreatedâ.â
Steven just gave you a small smile before looking down at his hands again.
You give a small chuckle as you lightly shake your head. âWell, since weâre trauma dumpingâŠâ
You cleared your throat as you tried to get the courage to tell him about your life as a Black Widow, down to the mind control and the assassinations. You felt your hands shaking halfway through, but Steven held onto them tightly, helping you explain who you were before he met you, missing out a few details which you werenât ready to talk about just yet. You burst into tears as Steven accepted you, telling you your past didnât define you, that you werenât in control (and he knows what that was like).
âI knew something was up anyway,â said Steven, a little laugh coming from him. âYou have awfully good reflexes.â
It was as if a final barrier had been knocked down between you, as if it was the last thing holding you both back. Your relationship changed for the better when Marc and Jake finally introduced themselves to you â although it did take a few more months after Steven had told you about them. Marc had kept you at a distance for a while before he finally let his guard down, and Jake had taken a while to warm up to you, but you had taken a while to warm up to him too.
All three of them eventually told you about Khonshu. It was over dinner with Marc a few months after youâd met him. That was a little harder to take in than the DID. But was an Ancient Egyptian God with an avatar â who happened to be your boyfriends â so unbelievable? Aliens were invading the Earth every other week, there was the Blip that happened a few years ago. You had to have a relatively open mind in the kind of situations you had been in. Jake still was more active as an avatar than Steven and Marc, so you never really saw him since he slept the days away.
But now, nearly three years down the line, you were all in a happy, healthy relationship. Youâd been living together for about a year and a half, renting a flat nearer to your work, and the university where Steven was finishing his final year, nearly ready to be a History teacher. You were still at the cafĂ©, now in a managerâs position, and today was a rare day off for you both. The weather was nice for London, do you both decided to take a walk in St Jamesâs Park.
It was Stevenâs turn to front today, and he was telling you all about his assignment for his uni course that was due that week. You loved listening to him talk about his uni work; he was so passionate about it. You were happy that he finally seemed to have some sort of stability in his life (other than yourself) after so many years of being unsure of himself, Jake and Marc included.
âSo I should be finished by May, then I graduate. Hopefully.â
âThereâs no âhopefullyâ about it Steven, youâll definitely graduate, with full marks.â
Steven gave a shy smile, looking at the group as he blushed. âThanks, sunshine. For everything, really, youâve been so patient with me.â
âYou donât have to thank me Steven,â you say, pausing your steps to giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek, sending a warmth through his body, and your own. They always made you feel that way; warm and fuzzy.
Safe.
You gave a hum of content as you smiled up at Steven and you both go to continue your walk, only for something to bump into you, causing you to let out a slight âoomfâ. You let go Stevenâs hand to steady whatever ran into you and you look down to see a young boy, probably no younger than five, looking up at you with big, brown eyes, filled with tears. He was sniffing, trying to hold back his sobs as he trembled against you.
âAre you okay? Whatâs the matter?â you ask, looking away from the boy and searching the area. âWhereâre your parents?â
âI-I-I donât know,â the boy said, sniffing. His face crumpled as the tears began to fall. âI w-was on the p-p-playground and then I c-couldnât see them.â
Your eyes widened as you felt the small panic in your own chest, looking around to see if there were any adults looking around, maybe a little frantic as Steven knelt down to the boyâs level. âWhatâs your name, buddy?â
The boy hiccupped from the sobbing heâd done as he wiped the tears away. âN-N-Nicholas.â
âWell, Nicholas,â said Steven, before introducing himself and you to the boy. âWeâll find your parents, donât worry. We wonât leave you alone.â
âCome on, weâll go back to the playground,â you said, holding your hand out for Nicholas, who took it with a little hesitation.
He was cute, little Nicholas, even with the snotty nose and the red cheeks from crying. His white blonde hair was hidden underneath a woolly hat and he had some dinosaur welly boots on. You couldnât believe that clothes and shoes came that small. The three of you walk towards the playground, you and Steven making conversation with Nicholas, trying to cheer him up. His favourite colour was blue, and he really loved Thomas the Tank Engine, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Leonardo was his favourite one, obviously). He had a little sister who had just turned two, her name was Philippa, but everyone called her Pippy. His best friend was called George, from school, and he was going for dinner at his house after school on Monday, they were going to have pizza and chips (Georgeâs favourite). Nicholas seemed to feel a bit better (well the tears had stopped anyway) by the time you all reached the playground.
âNicholas, can you see your parents anywhere?â you asked, leaning down to pick him up so he could get a better view. You both turned around. âWhat do they look like?â
âMummy has pink hair,â said Nicholas, looking at the playground. âAnd daddy has long hair but he always has it up.â
âDo you know what they were wearing?â Steven asked.
Nicholas nodded. âMummyâs dress had dinosaurs on it.â
âNarrows it down,â you muttered to Steven. âPink hair and dinosaurs should be easy to spot.â
Steven nodded as the three of you went around the playground, which wasnât very busy because of the cold weather but there was no pink hair or dinosaurs to be seen.
âWe can try and see if theyâre at the ice cream van,â said Steven, before muttering to himself he had no idea why there would be an ice cream van in this weather.
âWhatâs your favourite ice cream flavour, Nicholas?â you ask him, still carrying him on your hip as you head towards the centre of the park, where the ice cream van usually sits. His tears had mostly stopped, his chubby cheeks still a little tear stained. âMine is mint chocolate chip.â
âI like that too!â said Nicholas. âAnd strawberry. Pip likes strawberry too.â
âStrawberry is Stevenâs favourite too,â you said, grinning at Nicholas.
Nicholas giggled as he looked between the two of you. âAre you married?â
Your heart skipped a beat at the question, stuttering to answer but Steven managed to save you. âNot yet.â
âYet?â you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked at Steven, who merely grinned at you.
âMy mummy and daddy got married,â said Nicholas. âI was daddyâs best man.â
âThatâs nice, did you make sure your daddy was where he needed to be?â
Nicholas nodded, a proud look on his face. âI looked after the rings as well.â
âWow,â you said, seeing the ice cream van in the distance. âGood job, dude, thatâs such a big responsibility.â
âI kept them in my pocket the whole time,â said Nicholas. âAnd Pip was the flower girl, she walked down with my auntie Anna.â
âIt sounds like a lovely day.â
âNicholas!â
You all turned to see a couple running towards you, pushing a pram, worried looks on their faces. Indeed, Nicholasâs mother had bright pink hair, up in space buns and a dinosaur pinafore on. You smiled as Nicholas wriggled from your grip and you placed him on the ground before he ran over to his parents, his mother immediately scooping him up as he babbled to her quickly how he lost them, but you and Steven were helping him find you.
âWe thought youâd be getting ice cream!â
âIâm never taking my eyes off you again,â said his mother before looking at you and Steven. âThank you so much for finding him and looking after him.â
Steven waved his hand nonchalantly. âHe was a pleasure. Great kid. Easy to lose track of them sometimes, init?â
âOh I know,â laughed Nicholasâs mother. âYou must know what itâs like, if you have kids.â
You felt yourself tensing as the words left Nicholasâs motherâs mouth, but Steven didnât seem to notice. âNo, not yet.â
There were a lot of ânot yetâs happening today.
After saying your goodbyes to the family, you and Steven started to make your way back to the flat.
âI didnât know you were so good with kids,â said Steven. âYou kept him calm the entire time.â
You shrugged, really wanting to drop the subject. âI suppose. Havenât really been around children much, not withâŠya know, my old âjobâ.â
âYeah, right,â said Steven, nodding understandingly. âIf itâs any consolation, that hasnât changed anything about you. Youâll make an amazing mum.â
You stopped, freezing on the spot as you stared ahead at the ground before you. You practically felt the blood rush from your face as Stevenâs hand left your own before landing on your shoulder. âSunshine?â
Youâve gone and done it now, Steven, youâve freaked her out.
You shouldnât have mentioned the kids, hermano.
Steven ignored Marcâs and Jakeâs unwanted comments (he knew he messed up) and pushed back the guilt he felt as you finally looked up at him, plastering a too wide smile on your face. âLetâs go home, yeah?â
Steven nodded silently, before slipping his hand back into your own.
You were stuck in your own head for the next few days. You and Steven had never talked about kids before, and since his comment from the park, youâve been trying to avoid talking to him, going as far as picking up extra shifts at the cafĂ© so you didnât have to go home. You were going back to your old ways and thinking of ways to leave your boys with no trace. But the thought felt like a tight vice around your neck, squeezing hard. You didnât want to leave them. The thought made you sick.
But realistically, it was probably the next step in your relationship; marriage, then childrenâŠsomething you canât give to him, or the others, not after your time in the Red Room.
Your mood didnât go missed by the boys, when you were home. Marc had called internal meetings between him, Steven, and Jake, trying to figure out how to tell you not to worry, and when either of them tried, you just shook them off with a forced smile, telling them that you were fine. After a while, they let you be, thinking you would come to them eventually.
The days went by and you felt like you were still walking on eggshells around the system, waiting for them to turn around and tell you they were leaving you. You had reacted badly to the mention of children, something they must have discussed between themselves, they wouldnât want you around if they wanted them. They deserved someone who could give them a child, a real family.
You had taken a while to fall asleep next to Jake, who had fronted. He hadnât spoken to you much, you guessed he was just giving you space, but you had caught him looking at you with concern a few times during the day. When you finally fell asleep, close to 2am, your sleep was plagued with nightmares tinged with red. You were back in the Red Room, then you felt yourself pulling the trigger at a faceless man, then that faceless man slowly turned into Marc, then Steven, then Jake. You screamed, but you couldnât move as you watched them fall back, surrounded by their own blood. You couldnât breathe, your world was collapsing in on itself as the body, their faces now unrecognisable in death.
âWake up, love.â
You stared at your hands, coated in blood, their blood, as you shook. They werenât moving, they werenât talking, how could you hear them?
âDarling, itâs me, itâs a bad dream, please wake up.â
Steven?
You awoke with a gasp, Stevenâs arms immediately wrapping around you as you sat up, the tears flowing down your face and into Stevenâs shirt. You sobbed loudly as you slid your arms around him. You started shaking your head as Steven rubbed your back. âIâm sorry.â
âJust breathe, love, okay. Weâre here. Just breathe.â
You take in a shaky breath but your tears just kept flowing, your cries not stopping. You shook your head, pulling back to look at him. âNo, you donât understand. Iâm sorry. I canât give you what you want.â
Stevenâs hold tightened around you. âWhat do you mean?â
âI canât haveâŠI canât have children.â
Steven stopped his movements around you, taking in your words as he stared at you, his brow furrowed slightly. You whimpered, wanting nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. âIâm sorry. I canâtâŠit was years ago, back in the Red Room. When you turn eighteen, theyâŠitâs all fuzzy, they gave me some sort of drug for the pain and healing, but IâŠIâm sterilised, Steven.â
âWhat?â
âI canât have children. I didnât have a choice, Iâm sorry.â You cry loudly, all these feelings youâd had bottled up spewing out with your tears. âYou want a family, and kids and I canâtâŠI canâtâŠIâm damaged goods, Iâm â â
âNo. No, youâre not.â Steven was shaking, his jaw setting as he looked at you. âYouâre not, youâre amazing, and brilliant, andâŠyouâre my sun, our sun, and youâŠyou didnât deserve that. You didnât deserve what happened to you or what you didâŠnothing.â
You sob as you bury yourself into his chest again, Stevenâs arms wrapping around you tightly as he glared at the mirror, seeing Marc and Jake both looking equally as angry at you both. How sick and twisted must a person be to do that to a young girl? To take away her choice to have children or not, to have a family. They werenât angry at you. They wanted to protect you, to give you the world, like you deserved.
Letâs go break a couple of skulls.
Easy, Jake. We can work it out later. She needs us right now.
Steven held you tighter to him, bringing himself back to lie against the headboard of your shared bed as you lay on his chest, your cries having died down a little. You both lay there in silence, Stevenâs hands stroking your back continuously. You donât know how long you lay there for, but you must have dozed off again because you awoke feeling heavy, and stuffy, and your face felt a little puffy.
You sat up slowly, looking around before your eyes landed on Steven, who gave you a sad smile, his hand automatically finding your own. You open your mouth to speak to apologise but Steven was already shaking his head. âPlease donât say youâre sorry again.â
You closed your mouth, looking at him sheepishly. You felt silly now, crying like that, screaming in your sleep, and waking him up. You felt weak. You look down at your hands, afraid to look at him anymore. âI understand if you want to leave.â
Steven sighed before leaning forward, cupping your cheeks, making you look at him. There were new unshed tears in your eyes as you looked at him. âWe are not leaving. We will never leave you.â Steven shook his head. âWhether or not you want a family with us, weâll be with you every step of the way. If itâs something you donât want, then that is fine. Weâre happy just to be with you. We will take any step you want to make, okay? And if you want a family a little further down the line, then thatâs great, weâll look into it. We love you.â
You sniffed, the tears falling down your cheeks again. You loved these men. They made you feel safe, and they hadnât judged you on your past. They helped you move on whilst learning to love and accept yourself, despite all of your flaws (that they donât see, no matter what you say). Even now, when youâd been stuck with an inner turmoil all week, they have reassured you that they were there for the long run, no matter what happens.
âOkay,â you breathed, leaning back into Stevenâs chest, the both of you laying back on the bed. âThank you.â
Steven chuckled a little. âYou donât have to thank me, sunshine.â
You were going to be okay. Youâd fought your way through life and made it. And you have your boys. Theyâll be there for you through everything. You didnât have to worry about being alone anymore or disappointing anyone with what life has thrown at you, especially now, as Steven gives a soft kiss on your forehead, muttering a goodnight.
You felt yourself smiling as you closed your eyes, giving your own goodnight.














