"Daddy!"
Steve was met with a force hitting his legs, and he looked down to see Emma hitched onto him in a tight hug. Steve smiled down at his daughter and reached down to hitch the four-year-old on his hip, his prior tiredness forgotten as soon as he saw the grinning face of Emma.
"Hey there M&M," Steve greeted. He kissed her temple and stepped deeper into the main room of the Avengers Tower. He saw Natasha walking towards him, a fond smile on her face, visible in the low light of the room. It was nearing ten'o'clock, and Steve had a feeling that Natasha and Emma had fallen asleep watching a movie, given away by the credits and song currently playing off of the television.
Emma hugged Steve around the neck and buried her head in his shoulder.
"I missed you!" Emma exclaimed, and Steve bounced the four-year-old on his hip.
"I missed you too," Steve said. Steve had been gone for two days on a mission, which had must of felt like of an eternity to Emma. Steve knew it had felt like forever for him. It was the first multi-day mission since he adopted Emma, and with every minute away from Emma it felt harder and harder to breathe, worried what might be happening to her. He loved his Avengers family and trusted them with his life, but the paternal fear inside of him caused him to worry excessively.
"What did you and Aunt Natasha do while I was gone?" Steve asked. Though it was directed at Emma, Steve that Natasha was more liable to answer. Emma was too busy hugging him tightly to want to answer, relishing in the feeling of her father being back after what felt like forever.
"We watched the Anne of Green Gables movies," Natasha said. "Little Miss Emma here really loved them, didn't you?"
Emma nodded into Steve's neck. Steve didn't doubt that Emma had loved them. Normal picture books had proven to bore Emma when going to sleep, the genetic improvements done to her made her intellectually advanced for her age. Anne of Green Gables had proven to be the best of both worlds, just complex enough to be engaging for Emma but with just enough mirth about it to be interesting for the young girl. Reading it to Emma had helped in calming her down enough to be put down for bed.
Emma yawned sleepily. His arrival he knew must have awoken Emma from the sleep the movie had put her into, and the little girl's bedtime was hours ago. She was most likely more tired than even he was. She was so young after all, genetic enhancements and all.
"Are you tired M&M?" Steve said even though he knew the answer. Emma yawned again as answer and blinked up at him blearily from his shoulder. Steve smiled and rubbed her back soothingly, up and down softly and slowly.
"Thank you for watching her," Steve whispered to Natasha, and the super-spy waved him off with a twitch of her hand.
"No problem," Natasha assured. "It's not a big thing." She scrunched her nose up at Emma. "Especially when Miss Emma is such a little sweetie."
"What do we say to Aunt Natasha?" Steve prompted his daughter, and Emma yawned and picked her head up, smiling blearily at the red head.
"'hank you, Aunt Tasha," Emma managed to get out sleepily. Natasha kept her grin and ruffled the young girl's blond hair, which was coming out of two very loose twin braids.
"You're very welcome," Natasha returned. Natasha gave them one final look before she turned on her heel to leave, so that Steve could go put Emma down for the night.
Steve adjusted the young girl on his hip and walked to their apartments in Avengers Tower, entering the dark rooms quietly. Emma shut her eyes and snuggled deeper into his shoulder, her little eyelashes fluttering as she tried to stay awake.
"Time for bed," Steve said, walking into and turning on the light in Emma's room. Emma's room was a stark contrast to the rest of Steve's rooms in Avengers Tower. The rest of it was painted the same beige and tan that Tony had covered the rest of the tower in. Emma's room, however, was painted a bright pink with a stream of wallpaper around the ceiling covered in drawings of fairies.
"I'se tired Daddy," Emma murmured. Steve laid her down gently into her bed, pulling her unkempt blanket over her. The rest of the Avengers were unlikely to have made Emma make her bed this morning, which ever one of them it was that had given her her wake-up call. She had them wrapped around her finger, and she hated making her bed in the morning.
"I know sweetie," Steve said. He tucked the blanket around her gently and sat down on the floor next to her, his aching muscles screeching at the movement.
Emma blinked and looked up at Steve, still putting up one last final front to keep from sleeping despite her admission of tiredness.
"Song?" Steve smiled and caressed her face, wiping his thumb across her cheekbone.
"Of course, sweetheart," Steve said. Steve remembered when he was little, when his mother would sing to him. Never in a million years had he imagined himself in a similar situation to her, all by himself, raising a small child. In truth, he had always had trouble imagining himself as a father, even though he had wanted to be one so terribly bad. Here he was, finally one, and it felt like a fever dream at times. Like he would wake up and Emma would be gone, a thought that terrified him to no end.
But singing to her…singing he could do. Singing was what his mother had done, and singing was what he could do now.
"I see the moon, the moon sees me," Steve lulled, and Emma grinned weakly. She reached for his hand, and he took hers in his, squeezing it gently. "Shining through the leaves of the old oak tree. Oh, let the light that shines on, shine on the one I love."
Steve hadn't of known it at the time, but the singing was not just to lull children to sleep. It was a form of comfort for the parent as well, a way for them to hold on to a moment and know for that moment everything was okay. There was no pian in that moment, no fear that something could wrong. Just an unadulterated feeling of peace and serenity.
"Over the mountain, over the sea, back where my heart is longing to be. Oh, let the light that shines on me, shine on the one I love."
Emma rolled onto her side in bed, pulling her blanket more tightly around herself. Her stuffed elephant Anne ("Like Anne Shirley Daddy!") laid beside her, tucked into the blanket as well, smiling it's stitched smile back up at Steve.
"I hear the lark, the lark hears me, singing from the leaves of the old oak tree. Oh, let the lark that sings to me, sing to the one I love."
His mother once upon a time had sung this to him. Back when he was child, back before he knew what it was to be out of time or a solider or a hero. The song had been a time when life was perfect, when there was no father that was dead or sickness that could take him away from her. And like now, there was no evil enemies out there conspiring to destroy the world or that wanted to take Emma away to test and experiment on her. There just was… was. Nothing else.
"Over the mountains, over the sea, back where my heart is longing to be. Oh, the let the lark that sings to me, sing to the one I love."
Emma gave one more tired yawn and then disappeared into a smiling sleep. Steve let go of her hand but did not rise back to standing position, not yet. Instead, he remained, just keeping a watch over his daughter for a long moment.
It had been only been less than a year since Emma had come into his life, and yet it felt like a lifetime. He could hardly imagine life before Emma, before his world changed seeing that little girl in a cell at a Hydra facility. A little girl they had tried to replicate from his DNA, a little girl that didn't ask to be treated like a lab rat but had been on anyway.
Emma made a snoring sound, and Steve grinned. Emma lived in a world so different from her past it was almost laughable. She had a room to herself; one she could go to and leave when ever she wanted. Food more than just the 'crispy bread' and someone who actually cared what happened to her. She had a life, not just an existence.
Steve finally stood, careful to not remove his glance from his daughter, and began to walk away, hoping she slept well.
"But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me, my glory; and the lifter of mine head," - Psalm 3:3
Me? Rewrite canon to make an unnecessary kid fic? More likely than you think.
Questions, comments, or concerns? Let me know! Have a blessed day!
-PrincessChess