This could be so much better, but I'm still struggling with descriptions and narration as a writer. At least you'll guys get the general idea. I wish I could make it so much better, but what matters is I got the point across. Also, the ending...I couldn't really find one so...it just kind of stops. I will probably come back and edit this chapter.

Amelia had finally fallen into a deep sleep and Bucky had turned the lights off so as not to disturb her or the sleeping figure wrapped up tight in his arms. She was so tiny he could almost fit her into the palm of his hand. He looked down at the small red face that was peeking out of the fleece blanket and tiny pink hat. She almost didn't make it. She had turned the wrong way and had the doctors worried for a bit, but after a few hard hours, there she was, screaming as the doctors and nurses wrapped her up. Bucky had never been so happy to hear a baby cry. That was only a few hours ago. The nurse had just brought her back about fifteen minutes ago. Amelia was so exhausted she could barely stay conscious holding her. So Bucky had taken her to let his wife sleep.

Evelyn. He had always wanted to name his daughter Evelyn. He didn't know why, but he had always liked that name. Little Evelyn began to squirm and Bucky's heart began to race for a second, but all she did was adjust herself a bit and reach out her arm. Because she was cradled in his right arm, he lifted his left arm and let her clutch his finger. Tiny fingers wrapped around the metal and Bucky's eyes watered. This was real. It was so real. He survived hell on earth and it was worth it. It was so worth it to see those eyes start to blink up at him. Bucky was fully crying now, tears running down his cheeks as Evelyn moved around, her fingers gripping his harder.

"I know you don't understand me," Bucky whispered. "But no matter what happens, I will always love you. And I will try my hardest to keep you safe."

He hadn't told anyone, but he had plans to write letters to Evelyn for her to have just in case anything ever does happen. He had ones written for Steve and Amelia. They were tucked away in a small locked box in the back shelf of his closet. Sometimes he pulled them out to remind himself when days would get bad. Now he had plans to fill the box up with letters to Evelyn.

There was a soft knock on the door and Bucky looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway. He was holding a small teddy bear and entered when Bucky nodded. For as big as he was, he knew how to walk quietly past Amelia's bed. He sat in the chair next to Bucky and warmly smiled down at the baby.

"She's beautiful," he whispered.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. She is." He took in a deep breath, not caring that Steve could see that his eyed were red. "I'm a father, Steve."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, his smiling growing. "You are, Buck."

"I always wanted to be a father," he looked at Steve, as if wanting him to confirm it.

"You did," Steve said quietly.

Bucky looked back down at Evelyn, who had let go of her grip on his finger to pull her hands to her face and give another squirm.

"Do you…" Bucky swallowed. "Do you think I'll be a good dad?"

Steve laid a hand on Bucky's knee and gripped it. "I think you'll be a great dad."

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand on his knee and gripped it harder than he intended to, but Steve didn't care. Evelyn gave out a yawn and curled into Bucky's chest and the former Winter Soldier gently placed a kiss on her forehead.