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Steve had been right. That first night of his son’s life, he had had no nightmares whatsoever. It had been the most wonderful sleep Steve had yet to recall ever having. Well, since then nightmares had been unavoidable, but… For a newborn Lucas turned out to be surprisingly unchallenging. When wanting something, it usually involved either food, to be carried around by none other than Steve (or he would wail out until, eventually, Steve gave in), or to explore his surroundings. The first few nights he tried to let the baby sleep for himself. That went,… Well, either Lucas began screaming, or Steve settled him at his chest

Even with the enchantments the serum had given him, Steve found himself breathless when he neared the tallest building in town; the Avengers Tower. In his unclear state of mind he noticed how little the tower had changed, if at all; the same large letters, those characteristically large windows… Not that it mattered. He stormed in through the automatic doors, faintly hearing the voice of JARVIS scanning him on the way in, confirming the identity of whoever came uninvited. He was bent forward in the elevator while trying to force himself not to puke, when a repetitive sound, something familiar, kept repeating itself. Trying to overrun

Thinking his panicked words over a mere second later Steve found the flaw in his statement. When Loki arrived he hadn’t known Lucas was even born. Better yet, he didn’t know Steve had been caring a child in the first place! So their son was not his aim. Almost as if he could read Steve’s mind, Loki nodded once. “You get it now, do you not?” Well, he got that part, but the rest… Loki wasn’t after Lucas, so his actual target was him? Before he got to say a word, the ever question-filled voice of Tony butted in. “Since when has Goldilocks’ evil stepbrother begun fancying Capsicle?”

"I'm sorry, is this the home of Ms. Skywalker? There was a mix up at the airport, and I took her luggage by mistake." Steve pushed the wheeled suitcase in front of him and smiled sheepishly at the man in the doorway. He didn't look impressed. In fact, he was looking at Steve with all sorts of mistrust, one pale hand splayed across the door frame as his fingers tapped away at it impatiently. Steve frowned. That wasn't a good sign. "...This is the right address, isn't it?" "I assume you must be Steven Rogers then." The cultured voice didn't surprise him half as much as how husky it sounded. Steve had heard that voice before. This man sounded