Chapter 1
Steve Rogers stormed into his home, slamming the door into its frame and shaking the photos on the wall. Bucky looked up from the couch with furrowed brows, ready to lecture his husband on his behavior.
"Where is your daughter?" Steve snaps out before Bucky gets the chance to respond, tugging his tie from its knot around his neck.
"Excuse me?" Bucky asked carefully, "I hope you meant to say our daughter?" His face was showing clear agitation as he closed his book and threw it onto the coffee table.
"Did you see what she said?" Steve dropped his phone into Bucky's lap, the screen open to an article by the New York Times with the title in bold words, 'Captain America's daughter claims the Captain would never support the arrest of masked vigilante Spider-Man!'
Bucky let out a deep sigh as he begin to scan the article, this would definitely cause Steve some problems, especially with the mayor.
"We have to be missing something," Bucky mutters, "Will you please try talking to her before you lose your mind on her?"
"Where's she at Buck?" Steve scoffed, looking at his phone. "She hasn't been answering my calls."
"Well, since its Friday she's in class, and that's where she'll be until three," Bucky answered with a roll of his eyes.
"Text her. Make sure she comes home for the weekend,"
Steve watches as Bucky sighs, opening his phone and sending off a quick text. He couldn't help but drop his shoulders in disappointment as he saw her immediately answer his husband. Instead of saying anything he storms upstairs and gets in the shower, hoping to wash away some of the stress from the day as well as figure out was he was going to say to hundreds of reporters as well as the mayor.
He stewed for the rest of the day, the energy tense between him and his husband. He loved his daughter. She was their doll, and he would do anything for her. She had always favored Bucky, though, and it didn't matter what he did to try and change that. He really just struggled to connect with her.
Before he knew it, though, the front door swung open, and he heard the familiar voice of his daughter humming. He stepped out of the kitchen to see her walking in with three pizzas in her arms and walking straight towards him.
Well, now he knew why Bucky told him not to worry about dinner.
She made brief eye contact with him as she stepped by him, walking over and putting the pizzas on the kitchen island.
"Daddy," she said with a smile, reaching up to peck Bucky on the cheek.
"Doll," he responded, kissing her head and stretching over to grab the paper plates. Then she turned to Steve, eyes cautious.
"Papa," she walked over, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek as well, even if she knew it wouldn't be received with the same warmth.
"Grace." Her whole body tensed at the use of her full name. She was always their doll, that is, until she got in trouble.
"Papa, please, just listen," she started.
"Oh, you want me to listen? Maybe I would've listened if you had come to me first rather than going straight to the media!" She winced as he yelled right next to her face, feeling the muscles in her jaw tighten. "Do you understand what it looks like when you do that? Do you understand that it looks like I'm taking instruction from my twenty year old daughter?"
"I wasn't trying to undermine you! You're a good person, I know you wouldn't support his arrest. What's wrong with me saying it?" She said, raising her voice in return.
"I don't know what I would've said about the call for his arrest, but now it doesn't matter! If I disagree, it looks like I'm listening to my youngest child. If I agree, then there's going to be a story on problems within our family."
"I'm sorry, Papa, but," Once again, she's interrupted.
"Why do you care so much anyway? Do you know the kid behind the mask?" Her silence was enough to answer the question, and Steve couldn't help the sigh of disappointment he let out. "Is it your mission in life to make me unhappy?"
Her face fell at the question and unshed tears filled her eyes. Bucky looked at the pair in with a pained look on his face. They were so alike and they didn't even realize it, they knew exactly how to tear each other down when they fight like this.
"I don't know how to make you happy, father, if you want that, you're going to have to call Joe or Charlie." She spat the word father like it was a curse before running out of the room and to her childhood bedroom, the door slamming in punctuation.
Steve wanted to scream in frustration. Why didn't he know how to speak to her?
"What'd I do to her?" Steve asked, voice quiet, as he sat next to Bucky at the table. His head fell into his hands, and he took two deep breaths. "She's always been yours, Bucky. What'd I do to make her hate me?"
"She doesn't hate you, babe,"
"She's always been yours, and you know it!"
"Oh, like the boys aren't yours?" Bucky lectured, losing the sympathetic tone. Before Steve could interrupt, he kept speaking, "You scared her, Steve!"
"Scared her?" His voice broke, staring into his husband's eyes as he tried to seek out all the answers, he so desperately wanted to have that easy connection that Bucky has with Grace.
"Yes, Steve. You scared her. She's not like the boys. She never cared about Captain America. She cared about you, her Papa. She hated the press, the galas, the politics, all of it. It scared her, and you did nothing to reassure her that it was okay to be scared! That you'd be her father no matter what." Bucky was yelling now, out of his seat and pacing. "The boys loved it, they reveled in being the sons of the great Captain America. They counted down the days until they were old enough to start training to be shield agents, a day you celebrated with the both of them. Then she got into ballet school, and the most you gave her was a 'good job, Doll.' and a kiss on the cheek."
"The boys love you," Steve chose to say after a moment of silence, clearly choosing the wrong thing to focus on.
"I know that, Steve!" Bucky yelled, tugging at his hair, "I know, and I love them. I was never angry that they were yours, just like you shouldn't be angry that she's mine. She's softer than them, Steve. She's softer than you. I never cared, and the boys never cared. You were the only one intimidated by it."
Steve hung his head as he leaned forward onto Buckys shoulder. He never wanted to admit it, but Bucky was right. Grace intimidated the hell out of him. She was the sweet one. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, and it scared Steve to death. How was he supposed to protect her when she was so open? When she was so welcoming and kind? He was so terrified for her, every single day.
"I'm proud of her too, I love her just as much as I love the boys," Steve whispered. He never assumed that he might struggle to connect with a daughter, when they had learned she would be girl he was ecstatic, but it wasn't long before he started struggling after she was born. The boys were easy, with her he never felt like he could anything right.
"I know, Steve. You're telling the wrong person." Bucky said pointedly, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles.
So, with a nervous stomach Steve stood up, and slowly made his way up the stairs. Her room was at the end of the hall and with every step he took towards it the more he wanted to cry, unsure how the conversation would go. When he finally reached the door, he couldn't help but chuckle. She had her Do Not Disturb door hanger on, the laminated paper had a crown and said, 'Busy watching The Princess Diaries'.
He had helped her make that. He remembers the look of pride on her 8 year old face when they finished it, the way she begged to go to the library so they could laminate it and it would be protected forever.
He took a deep breath and knocked before slowly opening the door.
"Go away, please," her face was buried in her pillow as she cried.
"I came to apologize," Steve admitted, shocking even himself.
She sniffled as she sat up, her nose red and her eyes pink.
"I didn't do it n purpose," she spoke softly, rubbing her face. "That reporter was a dick, he cornered me in the cafeteria and he started saying all these horrible things about Pe- I mean Spider-Man, and I just lost my cool for a second."
"Reporters are not supposed to be on your campus, ever." Steve had o calm his anger, not wanting her to mistake it towards her. "You should've told me, your school assured me this wouldn't be an issue."
"I knew you'd be mad." Grace avoided his gaze looking at her posters on the wall instead. "Joe and Charlie are always so cool-headed."
Steve couldn't help the lid laugh that escaped him, and when he saw Grace narrow her eyes at him he quickly explained.
"You're right they are, I guess you just get your temper from me."
This time it was his turn to avoid her gaze. They both blushed at the thought, knowing that it was so clearly true as well as seeing the irony from it.
"I'm sorry I'm not more like them."
"Doll, I wouldn't change a single thing about you. Do you want to know the truth?" He asked with a chuckle. After she nodded he continued. "I wish I was more like you. I've always thrown punches and asked questions later, I wish I had your patience and your empathy."
Grace moved to sit beside him on the bed, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. "I love you, Papa."
"I love you too, Doll."
They sat quietly, just enjoying each others company for a moment before Steve finally announced they should go eat dinner before Bucky ate all of the pIzza.
"You can tell me how you know this spider fella while we're at it." And when he saw the way his daughter blushed, he knew he was in for a world of trouble.