Disrespect
Steve came home tired and drained after a busy day at the compound. He was in a sour mood because it was late and he knew his little girl was asleep. For the first time in a very long time, he had not kissed her goodnight, he had not held her or read her a bedtime story.
A pang of guilt seized him.
He found you in the living room, picking up abandoned toys and colour books. Sensing his sorrow, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He held you against him, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
“Did she ask after me?” he said, his words muffled against your skin.
“Yes. I told her she could wait for you, but she fell asleep after dinner.”
When Steve let out a pained growl, you rubbed his back in soothing patterns. He held you a little while longer before he took a step back.
“Does she hate me?”
“Hate you?” Your eyes grew wide. “God, no, Steve, your daughter loves you. Though I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re not her hero.”
Steve collapsed on the sofa and buried his face in his large hands. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at him. He sunk back into the sofa and you noticed that his eyes looked a little glassy.
“Okay, calm down, I was partially joking,” you told him.
He raised a brow at you when you handed him a piece of paper. From where he sat, he could tell the writing was the same as his little girl.
Steve gingerly took the paper from your hand, his eyes still focused on you. You gave him an encouraging nod. He read the title and paused a moment, his brows furrowing in confusion.
It was an essay his daughter had written at school.
***
My hero is Captain America by Stephy Grace Rogers
I used to love Iron Man, but not anymore.
I love Captain America because he looks strong. He has a Frisbee that he likes to throw at people who want to do bad things. Maybe when he is done avenging the world, he goes to the park and plays with his dog.
Captain America is a nice man because he saves the world. The others help a little, but not a lot. I like when Captain America is in New York because it makes me feel safe.
I wish my dad was Captain America.
***
The last line made him laugh under his breath. Your daughter had no idea that her father was an Avenger, let alone Captain America. You figured you’d tell her the truth when she was old enough to understand.
Much to Steve’s chagrin, she was a huge Iron Man fan. Tony understood that you preferred not to tell your child about the Avengers. He didn’t reveal his secret identity to your daughter, but he did bought her all the Iron Man merchandise.
Tony loved the way Steve’s jaw tensed when Stephy gushed about Iron Man.
“Iron Man isn’t the only one on the team, darling,” Steve told her one day. “Captain America is good, too.”
“But dada, Cap’ain America is so reckless!” she had replied, frowning a little when Uncle Tony burst out laughing.
“No, darling, he’s not. He fights for a better world.” When she rolled her eyes at him, he sent her to her room. “I don’t like your attitude, young lady.”
“Yeah,” Tony intervened, barely able to contain his laughter while he mocked Steve’s authoritative tone. “In this house, we do not tolerate people who disrespect Captain America.”
Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Steve looked up at you with a big smile on his face. You tried to keep your expression stern, but his childlike enthusiasm tugged at your heartstrings.
“I can’t wait to show this to Tony,” Steve laughed. “I’m going to frame it and put it in my office. And then I’ll make a copy, frame it and put it in his office.”
You motioned for him to keep his voice down as not to wake the child. A few seconds later, you heard the soft slap-slap of your daughter’s bare feet smacking against the wooden floor.
A sleepy voice sounded from the hallway before she appeared at the door.
“Daddy?” she mumbled, rubbing her eye with her small fist.
Steve leapt off the sofa when he saw her. He crossed the room in two long strides and scooped her into his arms. She squealed loudly and wrapped her arms around his neck before she settled her head on his shoulder.
“Daddy read your homework, darling, it was really good!” he exclaimed, bouncing her in his arms. “You’re right, princess, Captain America is a lot better than Iron Man.”
“Yes,” she said, “because Iron Man doesn’t have a Frisbee.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Steve replied smugly.