It was almost three in the morning when Steve woke up to a slight weight crawling on his chest. He remained still and pretended to still be sleeping as he identified the source of movement. Tony was sprawled out and snoring softly to his left, taking up far more space than he should be able of doing, so it wasn't him that was moving. Then Steve heard a slight sniffle and caught a whiff of the strawberry shampoo that had been in the bathroom and realized who it was.
"Nightmare?" asked Steve softly, opening his eyes to see Emmy peering at him from above, tears not quite dried on her cheeks.
Emmy nodded, holding the blanket in one hand, chewing on the corner nervously like she did to the ear of her stuffed dog at home. It was a habit Steve was trying to break her of but she was just as stubborn as him.
"Okay," yawned Steve.
The super soldier sat up and carried his daughter to the kitchen where he sat her on the counter while he rummaged through the cupboards, humming when he found what he was looking for.
"You up for some hot coco?" asked Steve, holding up a tin of chocolate.
Emmy nodded, crossing her legs and poking at the coffee maker next to her. Steve ruffled her hair and turned to the fridge to get milk. It took him ten minutes to locate everything he needed before he actually began making the drink, the entire time humming off key. He had almost forgotten that he had company in the kitchen until he heard a soft giggle from the counter where he had left his daughter.
Somehow, Emmy had gotten ahold of a screwdriver and had disassembled the entire coffee maker. She appeared to be in the process of putting it back together and having the time of her life doing so.
"Daddy's going to be upset if that's broken in the morning," said Steve mildly.
Emmy shook her head with a grin and screwed in the final bits of the machine before pointing at it with a triumphant smile.
"Do I even want to know what you did?" asked Steve.
He discovered several hours later exactly what his child had accomplished when she had messed with the coffee maker.
"Why the hell isn't this damn machine working?" growled Clint as he pressed the brew button once again, jamming it as hard as he could with his thumb. "Tony, I thought you programmed this thing to read minds or something!"
"It worked for me," shrugged Tony from his seat at the kitchen table. "It worked for Steve. It worked for Natasha. Maybe it just doesn't like you."
Clint grumbled about coffee machines that thought too much and exactly where it could take those thoughts when it clicked with Steve.
"Emmaline Stark-Rogers, did you make the coffee machine not work for Uncle Clint?" said Steve sternly, looking down at his slightly tired daughter who was sitting on the ground in the kitchen, happily coloring on spare paper.
Emmy looked up fearfully when she heard Steve's stern tone, looking around for some escape until she spotted Clint glaring at the coffee machine.
"Daddy," squealed Emmy, jumping up and running to the machine, pointing. "Daddy!"
"What, Emmy?" asked Tony, looking from his seat.
"Tony, I think your daughter made the coffee machine hate Clint," said Steve with disapproving look. "We came down earlier for some coco to combat bad dreams and I turned around and she was giggling and messing with the machine."
"Yes!" cheered Tony, jumping up, picking up Emmy and spinning her around. "Well done, Emmy! That's my smart, beautiful little girl. So clever, programming the machine to not work for Uncle Clint. Is it just Uncle Clint who can't work it?"
Emmy nodded excitedly, reaching to push the button to make the machine brew just to prove her point.
"I'm so proud of you, Ducky!" cooed Tony, beaming down at her, Emmy clearly soaking up the words. "You're so clever. Good job."
"Tony," said Steve warningly. "You can't encourage her to make mischief like this. It's wrong to make a coffee machine not work for just one person, no matter how impressive it may be."
"Emmy, why don't you show Uncle Clint how you make the coffee machine work for him?" suggested Tony, setting Emmy on the counter under Clint's supervision before pulling his husband to the pantry by the arm.
"Tony," hissed Steve. "You don't encourage this behavior!"
"No Steve," replied Tony, just as softly, just as fiercely, eyes narrowing. "You're wrong. You do encourage this type of behavior because it means she's comfortable enough with us to try. She doesn't think she's going to get yelled at and punished because she made something new. Did you see how excited she was to show us? She was proud and I'm not going to take that away from her."
"You can't let her get away with it, though. It's not just making something new, its making something not work targeting a specific person."
"She's four!"
"So we have to teach her now that you don't mess with other people!"
"Cap, I get it, I do," said Tony, pulling out the Captain card that he only used in fights when he was furious. "You don't want your child to grow up to be a bully. But you know what I don't want her to grow up to do? To be afraid that you or I or anyone she looks up to is going to yell at her for trying something new. I don't want her afraid to create something or show you what she's made because she thinks she'll get in trouble for it. You don't want her targeting specific people, I get that. So tell her that she did well and maybe next time not to target Clint. Don't put her down from the start, trust me, that makes it worse."
Tony turned and left before Steve could reply.
"Clint, I'm going out to the barn to mess with your tractor," announced Tony. "Emmy, you want to stay in here with Papa or come with me to the barn?"
Emmy thought about it, then pointed at Clint with a smile.
"Okay," said Tony, kissing the top of her head as he passed. "You know where I'll be if you need me."
Shortly after Tony disappeared into the snow, Laura and Maria Hill who had arrived an hour before entered the kitchen, chatting and laughing. Emmy tensed at the sight of them and shied closer to Clint, who was leaning against the counter next to her, talking to Steve who had returned to the table to eat a bowl of cereal.
"Morning handsome," said Laura, walking over and kissing Clint, not noticing the way Emmy crawled behind her husband in fear. "Any news?"
"Hey beautiful," grinned Clint. "I missed you."
"It's only been an hour," laughed Laura.
"And I missed you."
Laura laughed but stopped short when Clint stiffened and pushed her back slightly. Clint turned and picked up Emmy, who was shaking and breathing quickly.
"Laur, I need you to take Hill and leave the room," said Clint calmly. "Go get Tony, he's in the barn. Tell him Emmy's having a panic attack."
Quickly but calmly Clint walked over to Steve and handed him his daughter.
"She really doesn't do well with women," said Clint. "Normally I'd tell you to take her to somewhere she feels safe like her bedroom but she doesn't know this place, doesn't have her dog or blanket. So I'm going to go grab Bruce and Thor and have Nat watch the door and we're going to go to your room, put in that talking fox movie she likes so much, and wait the attack out."
"Sounds like a plan," said Steve, rocking Emmy, who was shaking violently and crying.
It took them five minutes to assemble on Tony and Steve's bed, Emmy sandwiched between her fathers and surrounded by the rest of her family, all of them laughing softly and commenting on how a fox and a chicken wouldn't be friends. Slowly but surely, Emmy calmed down, though she didn't fully relax. When the movie ended, Clint put in another one, this time with talking lions and circles of life. Natasha ventured onto the bed and when all Emmy did was look at her for a moment before turning her attention back to the screen, she took it as a good sign.
"Steve," said Natasha softly.
"Hm?" hummed Steve.
"Fury has some intel and wants you, Hill, Bruce, and me ready to go by lunch," said Natasha softly.
"That's an hour!" said Steve. "I can't leave right now. Emmy needs me."
"Cap," said Tony softly, looking up at him. "Just go. Emmy needs you to go get the basta- guys – who did this. The faster you do that, the faster we can go home."
"You really think it's a good idea to leave after that panic attack?" said Steve skeptically.
"That was triggered because a female Emmy doesn't know got into her personal space too quickly and stayed too long on top of having a really rough day and night before," said Tony reasonably. "We all have our bad days, you know that. Hell, you've done this exact same thing with me, watching mindless movies, when I'm having a hard time keeping out of my head. Clint and Thor are staying. We'll be fine and you'll be helping get us home."
Steve sighed. He knew his husband had a point but he didn't want to leave.
"Emmy," said Steve softly.
Emmy looked up at him from her spot nestled between Tony and him, her purple eyes bright and wide with emotions brimming under the surface.
"Sweetie, I have to go on a little trip," said Steve slowly. "So I won't see you for a few days. Will you be good for Daddy while I'm gone?"
Emmy nodded, brow furrowed in confusion.
"That's my princess," praised Steve, softly kissing her hair before kissing Tony above her. "I'm going to talk to Laura before heading out. She needs to know this wasn't her fault. Be good, Tony."
"I'm always good," said Tony with a grin before his face became serious. "Come back."
"Always."
And that was it. They never said goodbye or I love you or anything like that because those things seemed so final and if they ended with that then what reason did they have for returning? Tony always insisted on Steve coming back, still afraid years later of being left alone again. Steve, for his part, promised to always come back, still haunted by the times that wasn't possible and vowing to make it different.
When Natasha came back and grabbed Bruce from the pile of humans and they heard the front door shut followed by a series of engines starting and cars rumbling away, Emmy sat up and looked around the room in surprise.
"What's up, Em?" asked Tony.
Emmy kept looking around the room as if she had lost something, then she scrambled off the bed and went to the bathroom before pointing at the closet for Tony to check; she didn't like closets. Tony obligingly got up and looked in the closet.
"Nope, nothing there, Ducky," said Tony.
Emmy tugged on Clint's pant leg until the archer rolled out of bed. Promptly, Emmy took Clint's calloused fingers in her own little hand and Tony's scarred fingers in her other and dragged them out of the room.
"What's she looking for?" asked Clint over the young girls head.
"Hell if I know," said Tony. "I'm just glad she's walking around instead of hiding in the room. That's a big step."
"True," said Clint.
They searched the entire house, every room and closet, but when they approached the door leading outside, Tony drew the line.
"Nope, not going out there," said Tony, steering the toddler back towards the couch. "It's too cold and you're not wearing a jacket, missy."
Emmy hadn't lost that confused look yet and stared up at Tony with her eyes almost comically wide.
"Papa?" said Emmy, pointing towards the door.
Tony was caught between wanting to shout with excitement and let his heart break at how sad she sounded.
"Papa had to go to work with Aunt Natasha and Uncle Bruce, remember?" explained Tony.
Emmy frowned.
"He'll be back soon," said Tony. "Until then, do you want to take apart the toaster with me and I can show you how to make it burn patterns in the bread?"
*This is the point in time where I admit to how exhausted I am and just hope this makes sense. - Ari