The Tower has never been this quiet.

The upper floor lights are dimmed low, the usual hum of activity replaced with soft footsteps and hushed voices. Outside the tall windows, the city glows—but in here, everything feels smaller. Slower. Like the world has narrowed down to one fragile, perfect thing.

Your son sleeps in your arms.

He’s barely a few days old. Wrapped tight in a soft blanket, tiny fists tucked under his chin, breathing slow and warm against your chest. Every sound he makes feels too loud in the silence. Every rise and fall of his chest still makes your heart stutter.

James stands nearby, leaning against the counter with his arms folded—but he hasn’t taken his eyes off you or the baby once.

He still looks stunned.

Like it hasn’t fully hit him yet that the tiny human in your arms is real. That he’s his. That this—this quiet, sacred moment—belongs to the two of you.

Earlier, the team had crowded the doorway one by one. Protective didn’t even begin to cover it.

Yelena had threatened anyone who came within ten feet without permission. James—had nearly laughed when John insisted on standing guard outside “just in case.” Ava had hovered close, offering quiet reassurance and blankets you hadn’t realized you needed.

Even Alexei had softened, lowering his voice like the baby might understand him. And Bob well he was just in awe at the little human that was now in the tower.

Thunder B. didn’t feel like a team tonight.

It felt like a family.

James finally pushes off the counter and steps closer, slow and careful, like he’s approaching something breakable. His hand hovers for a moment before gently brushing the baby’s blanket, knuckles barely grazing the fabric.

“He’s so small,” he murmurs, awe threaded through every syllable. “Hard to believe he came from all that chaos.”

His eyes lift to yours—soft, overwhelmed, terrified in the best way.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. “I know it’s… a lot.”

The baby shifts, letting out a tiny sound, and James freezes like he’s afraid to breathe wrong.

“Yeah I’m ok James.” You say offering him reassurance.

A faint smile pulls at his mouth.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to protect anything this much,” he admits. “Including you.”

He glances toward the door, where the rest of the team is pretending not to listen.

“They’d thr0w themselves in front of a train for him,” James adds dryly. “But I think they’re waiting for permission to hold him.”

His attention returns to you, voice softer now—more vulnerable.

“Can I?” he asks. “Whenever you’re ready.”

And suddenly, the world feels impossibly fragile… and impossibly full.