Avengers One-Shots

Small, Like Me [Steve Rogers]

Words: 5900

Previously titled: Stop making deadlines earlier

WARNINGS: few swears

A/N: A personal favourite inspired by a post I saw on Pinterest

--

Ever since your son was born all you could remember was Steve holding him. It was almost like he was afraid to let go, but if they were in the same room, Steve would be sure to be holding little Jamie.

Jamie hadn't necessarily been the luckiest kid perse, especially in terms of his health and maybe Steve felt guilty for that. He had a strong sense of duty and responsibility toward the child and you could sense his dismay whenever the doctor would add another thing to the list of ailments Jamie was suffering from.

"Steve, you know you have to sleep too," you sighed, walking into the nursery, your robe tied tightly around you. "It won't do any of us good if dad is tired."

Steve nodded and slowly, carefully, as if any slight movement could cause an explosion, placed the baby in his cot. He was so focused on the small child that you piped up and said,

"If it makes you feel better we can move him to our room."

Steve nodded, but his gaze never moved.

"You ever think the reason he's like this is because of me?" he whispered.

"What makes you say that?" you frowned, looking over at your husband concernedly.

"I was like this when I was a kid," he explained. "Before the serum. D-Do you think it might not affect things when we have kids and passed down all my immunocompromised genes to him?"

"Steve I don't think there's any way to know." you sighed. "All we can do right now is make sure he has the best care he can get, right? We won't be pumping him up with tobacco and heroine for asthma."

"Okay that is not my fault," Steve let out a small chuckle, turning to look at you with a faint smile.

"Yeah, still wish I could punch whatever doctor made you a smoker." you rolled your eyes. "It was a nightmare getting you to quit." you chuckled. "Come on honey, we'll bring him into our room and maybe you'll both have an easier time sleeping then."

--

As Jamie grew older the doctor's visits became a part of life, constant treatments and new care plans, but that little boy was a fighter, and he was a fighter because he wanted to be just like his dad. Any chance he'd get he would proclaim to anyone he met that he was going to grow up to be just like his daddy, the one and only Captain America and you could tell how terrible Steve felt every time he said it because he knew Jamie couldn't be like him. At least not physically.

Through it all Steve never stopped holding him, Jamie was his boy and he would never let go. Not for anything.

"Steve, you're going to have to let him walk sometimes. He has to learn how to use his crutches and feel okay with the braces." you sighed one night as you were both getting ready for bed. Steve knew you were right, but that didn't make it sting less. "I know you're trying to protect him," you added. "But if he wants to be like you, you have to give him a chance to prove that he can be."

"But he can't (Y/N)," Steve said flatly.

"I never took you for a pessimist," you crossed your arms and looked at your husband. "That kid is a hell of a lot stronger than a lot of the adults I know so if you take a step back for a minute you might see that all he wants to do is show you what he's capable of."