It had been nearly four months since Jamie - as Steve and Lucy had come to call him - had been born. James Steven Rogers, named for his father and his father's closest friend. He was a good baby, for the most part, and the little family had slowly settled into a comfortable routine, but they all knew it wasn't going to last forever. Sooner or later, S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to come calling; sooner or later, Steve and Lucy would be summoned back to work. More than likely, it would be sooner rather than later. Nick Fury wouldn't wait forever. This time with his family was precious to Steve, and he made sure he savored every minute of it. Fatherhood seemed to come easy to him, despite his worries. He had taken to it as quickly as he'd taken to everything else in his life, often taking the night shift, since he didn't need as much sleep as Lucy or Peggy. Tonight was one of those nights where little Jamie Rogers just didn't seem to want to sleep, and Steve had finally taken to the rocking chair to quiet his son's fussing.
He hadn't known much about babies before Jamie had been born. It wasn't something you learned in boot camp, and being an only child growing up, he'd had no younger siblings to help care for. He'd always worried that any child of his might inherit the health problems that had plagued him all his life before he'd submitted to the Super Soldier Serum, but so far, little Jamie seemed healthy and strong. Still, no baby was perfect, and even Jamie had his restless nights. Though Steve had known very little about babies, his instincts rarely steered him wrong, and tonight, the rocking chair seemed to be just the thing for a fussy baby. Moonlight streamed in through the nursery window, casting long shadows against the wall of a big man slowly rocking back and forth with a small whining bundle in his arms. If one listened hard enough, they might even hear him murmuring the words of a lullabye, one he'd heard a long time ago, before the war, before he'd become Captain America. "Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart. Never to part, baby of mine..." It wasn't the sound of Jamie whining, or the shuffle of feet against the nursery floor, that woke Lucy from her sleep. No, it was the lack of husband in the bed beside her. She wasn't a light sleeper, but she drifted, falling back to sleep when Steve was there, and waking when he wasn't. Tonight was a little different - for a week or so, her dreams had been growing more and more agitated as the deadline for going back to work reared its ugly head, and tonight, when Steve's presence would have soothed her back to sleep, she woke agitated and anxious, needing to see her baby boy.
Barefoot, she padded to the door of the nursery in the darkness, careful to be quiet and not disturb Peggy who slept below. The sound of Steve's voice met her ears, bringing a gentle smile to her face as she leaned in the doorway. watching her gentle giant of a husband cradling his tiny firstborn son, singing to him softly. There was nothing in the world that could compare to that sight, she was certain, and definitely no one who would dare to disturb it. Not even her.
Despite his enhanced hearing, Steve didn't seem to notice his wife watching in the doorway, his attention focused on the small bundle in his arms. He sang soft and low, his voice slowly lulling the fussy baby back to sleep. Though he was unaware of it, he had what many people call "The Touch" - an innate ability with children that he didn't even know he possessed. Lucy had seen a little of it in New York City a year ago when Steve had tirelessly worked to rescue civilians from the wreckage of Hurricane Sandy. Now, here he was, happily married with a small child of his own. Could it get any better than this? Steve really didn't think so.
As he continued with the song, the little boy in Steve's arms slowly settled and quieted down to sleep, cradled in his father's strong arms, even as his father's voice caught on the words and he quieted, too, lost in a moment that was a mix of wistful memories and hopeful dreams. "Little one when you play, Don't you mind what they say, Let those eyes sparkle and shine, Never a tear, baby of mine." Lucy watched, entranced as much by the sight of her husband and son as she was by the soft cadence of Steve's voice as he sang to Jamie. Whatever agitation had forced her out of sleep was lulled by the gentle lullabye, but she lingered where she was, not wanting to disturb either of them as they rocked together. She didn't know when she had gotten so lucky as to fall in love with this wonderful man, still not quite able to believe that he had married her and given her a beautiful, healthy baby boy to love and share together. It was a dream, one she hoped she never had to wake up from.
Steve quieted, as did the baby's fussing, breaking off and not finishing the song. The only sound that of his breathing and the rhythmic creak of the rocking chair as he pushed it slowly to and fro, reluctant, it seemed, to settle his son back to bed just yet. He lifted a hand to brush a few unexpected tears from his face, unseen in the darkness of night.
Leaning there in the doorway, Lucy didn't need a moment to decide whether or not she was going to disturb them. Fingertips playing at her wedding ring, she smiled and pushed away, backtracking to the bedroom as quietly as she could. No matter how antsy she might get, she was in the enviable position of knowing that their little family was watched over by none other than Captain America. She made her way to the bathroom to get a glass of water, wondering if Steve was going to manage to put Jamie down at all. He seemed very in the zone with his firstborn son tonight.
Steve did finally get up, once he was sure the baby boy was asleep and he had his own emotions in check, and stepped quietly to the crib to settle his small son back down, tucking the blankets very carefully around him, as yet unaware that he'd woken Lucy. He leaned over and brushed a kiss against the baby's forehead before quietly creeping back across the room toward the hallway, leaving the door a little ajar so that he could hear if his son started fussing again. It was then he heard the water running in the bathroom and realized he was not the only one awake in the house.
He hadn't known much about babies before Jamie had been born. It wasn't something you learned in boot camp, and being an only child growing up, he'd had no younger siblings to help care for. He'd always worried that any child of his might inherit the health problems that had plagued him all his life before he'd submitted to the Super Soldier Serum, but so far, little Jamie seemed healthy and strong. Still, no baby was perfect, and even Jamie had his restless nights. Though Steve had known very little about babies, his instincts rarely steered him wrong, and tonight, the rocking chair seemed to be just the thing for a fussy baby. Moonlight streamed in through the nursery window, casting long shadows against the wall of a big man slowly rocking back and forth with a small whining bundle in his arms. If one listened hard enough, they might even hear him murmuring the words of a lullabye, one he'd heard a long time ago, before the war, before he'd become Captain America. "Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart. Never to part, baby of mine..." It wasn't the sound of Jamie whining, or the shuffle of feet against the nursery floor, that woke Lucy from her sleep. No, it was the lack of husband in the bed beside her. She wasn't a light sleeper, but she drifted, falling back to sleep when Steve was there, and waking when he wasn't. Tonight was a little different - for a week or so, her dreams had been growing more and more agitated as the deadline for going back to work reared its ugly head, and tonight, when Steve's presence would have soothed her back to sleep, she woke agitated and anxious, needing to see her baby boy.
Barefoot, she padded to the door of the nursery in the darkness, careful to be quiet and not disturb Peggy who slept below. The sound of Steve's voice met her ears, bringing a gentle smile to her face as she leaned in the doorway. watching her gentle giant of a husband cradling his tiny firstborn son, singing to him softly. There was nothing in the world that could compare to that sight, she was certain, and definitely no one who would dare to disturb it. Not even her.
Despite his enhanced hearing, Steve didn't seem to notice his wife watching in the doorway, his attention focused on the small bundle in his arms. He sang soft and low, his voice slowly lulling the fussy baby back to sleep. Though he was unaware of it, he had what many people call "The Touch" - an innate ability with children that he didn't even know he possessed. Lucy had seen a little of it in New York City a year ago when Steve had tirelessly worked to rescue civilians from the wreckage of Hurricane Sandy. Now, here he was, happily married with a small child of his own. Could it get any better than this? Steve really didn't think so.
As he continued with the song, the little boy in Steve's arms slowly settled and quieted down to sleep, cradled in his father's strong arms, even as his father's voice caught on the words and he quieted, too, lost in a moment that was a mix of wistful memories and hopeful dreams. "Little one when you play, Don't you mind what they say, Let those eyes sparkle and shine, Never a tear, baby of mine." Lucy watched, entranced as much by the sight of her husband and son as she was by the soft cadence of Steve's voice as he sang to Jamie. Whatever agitation had forced her out of sleep was lulled by the gentle lullabye, but she lingered where she was, not wanting to disturb either of them as they rocked together. She didn't know when she had gotten so lucky as to fall in love with this wonderful man, still not quite able to believe that he had married her and given her a beautiful, healthy baby boy to love and share together. It was a dream, one she hoped she never had to wake up from.
Steve quieted, as did the baby's fussing, breaking off and not finishing the song. The only sound that of his breathing and the rhythmic creak of the rocking chair as he pushed it slowly to and fro, reluctant, it seemed, to settle his son back to bed just yet. He lifted a hand to brush a few unexpected tears from his face, unseen in the darkness of night.
Leaning there in the doorway, Lucy didn't need a moment to decide whether or not she was going to disturb them. Fingertips playing at her wedding ring, she smiled and pushed away, backtracking to the bedroom as quietly as she could. No matter how antsy she might get, she was in the enviable position of knowing that their little family was watched over by none other than Captain America. She made her way to the bathroom to get a glass of water, wondering if Steve was going to manage to put Jamie down at all. He seemed very in the zone with his firstborn son tonight.
Steve did finally get up, once he was sure the baby boy was asleep and he had his own emotions in check, and stepped quietly to the crib to settle his small son back down, tucking the blankets very carefully around him, as yet unaware that he'd woken Lucy. He leaned over and brushed a kiss against the baby's forehead before quietly creeping back across the room toward the hallway, leaving the door a little ajar so that he could hear if his son started fussing again. It was then he heard the water running in the bathroom and realized he was not the only one awake in the house.