July 8, 2033
Today is my tenth birthday. It's a really big deal because I’ve been alive on this earth for a whole decade now. A milestone if you would. It was one that all kids looked forward to because it meant they were only two more away from being a teenager. This was a time to be excited. When your friends came to a big party thrown by your parents who loved them filled with fun and laughter and of course, presents. But mine was overshadowed by the fact that my dad’s birthday and America’s birthday had been four days before. For everyone else July 4th was a day of massive celebration. Fireworks that lit up the night sky after a whole day of friends and family partying as they ate a never ending buffet of barbeque, sides and pie. For me it was just another reminder that my father Steve Rogers wasn’t here.
Tucking a loose strand of the dark hair I’d inherited from my mom behind my ear I glanced over my shoulder one more time at my bedroom door. Cocking my head, focusing my hearing to see where mom was. Having inherited more than just the color of my dad’s eyes I had also gained the genetic enhancements given to him by the serum he’d taken in 1942. It made me faster, stronger and smarter than the average ten year old. But to be fair to my mother’s family I’d also gotten my smarts from the Starks side as well. Right now though I needed to sneak out of my room without getting caught. So I kept my eyes closed to better hear where exactly mom was in the house. Because if Veronica ‘Ronnie’ Stark caught me abandoning the party she’d meticulously planned I was dead.
The sound of my mother’s steady footsteps tripping lightly down the staircase to the first floor in the house my father built has me breathing out a sigh of relief. Easing the window of my bedroom up I carefully maneuvered myself out and onto the roof of the porch that wrapped around the whole of the white painted two story house. Keeping my steps ninja silent like uncle Bucky had taught me, I crept around to the side where a tree was planted close enough to reach. Shimmying onto the sturdiest branch I quickly and quietly made my way to the ground with the softest of thuds on the balls of my feet.
Not waiting to see if anyone had seen me, I immediately raced off into the woods.
One of the things I liked the most about our home was the fact that the land surrounding it was a thick wooden area untouched by anyone but them. According to Aunt Pepper my dad had her buy him the four acres back in 2014 when he’d been thinking of moving out of the Avengers Compound. His plan had been to clear a section of it, build a house himself and then live out the rest of his life on it. Part of that plan had come to fruition. During the lull after the Snap Steve Rogers had built their house over the course of two years since he had plenty of time to do it then. Though he hadn’t lived in it for very long. Seeing as he’d skipped off only a couple of years later to go shack up with some lady named Peggy back in 1949 leaving behind her pregnant mother.
Arms and legs pumping as fast as they could go I sped along the hidden trails no one but a chosen few knew about. This particular trail led to the small creek I swam in during the warmer months of the year. Ferns and tall weeds whip against my bare legs with each surefooted step. I knew where every rock, dip and root was. Making it so that I could run these trails blindfolded. And had once just to see if I could.
The further I got from the house had me peeking over my shoulder every now and then to make sure no one was following. Sucking in a deep lungful of air as I remember to steady my heavy breathing so I wouldn’t get winded like Uncle Sam taught me. Having super soldiers for running mates for so long Sam had to relearn how to run so he wouldn't get left in the dust. Although as he's gotten older he's slowed back down a bit.
Five minutes later when the shaded body of water came into sight I slowed into a down walk, hands on my hips as I tipped my head back to catch the early rays of morning sun. It was early enough to still be cool out. The light breeze eased my overheated skin a little. Running hot was a serum thing according to uncles Bucky, Tony, Bruce and my mom. They also explained to me that with the way the serum boosted all of my physical and mental strengths, it made it so I would always need a higher calorie meals to go along with my higher metabolism.
Thankfully having lived with my dad and uncle Buck for long enough, mom knew just what I needed to eat everyday so I wouldn't crash. Lots of protein, dark leafy greens and plenty of vitamins that were tailor-made by uncle Bruce for me and Bucky every month. So while I was scrawny now I knew I would fill out and have a good growth spurt based on how my dad turned out. Having the purest of the serums, it was certain I would take after him in that way too. I knew that because I was almost as tall as my mom and she was 5'5.
Sauntering over the sandy bank of the creek I stand in my favorite shady spot. Those thoughts of Steve Rogers were never far away. Especially last year on my birthday when I had felt I'd been old enough to know the real reason why my dad wasn’t in my life. I'd asked my mom point blank to lay it out. No lies. Just the truth. After nodding to herself, mom sat me down and did just that. She’d said that when my father went to put back the infinity stones he hadn’t told anyone but his best friend and my adopted uncle as well as his other best friend, my mother, that he planned on staying in the past.
In his own words he told mom that he wanted to have a chance to have the life that had been taken away from him due to war and an unexpected turn of fate. That as much as he loved them and their friends, it wasn’t enough. And loving him as much as she had and knowing the pain he lived with everyday having been there for nearly each one since the moment he woke from the ice, Ronnie let him go. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that she found out she was pregnant and it was too late.
Plopping down on the bank of the babbling water I bring my knees up to my chest, wrapping both my arms around them as I let the soothing sounds of nature surround me. Spotting a thin stick I grab it, using it to etch a line in the hard packed dirt. Thinking back to that long ago conversation has my brows pinching together. Still too young to fully understand the circumstances of the how or why if my mom was so in love with my dad, then why did she not demand that he stay.
All mom would say when I asked was that they’d never dated so she didn’t feel she had a claim on him. That they’d only ever been friends who were sometimes more which had resulted in me. And by the time my dad had revealed himself to my uncles Bucky, Sam and Bruce it had been far too late. He had lived his whole life in the past. Steve Rogers had gone into the past a fairly young man and came back an old man who was now physically his age and the father of an unborn baby who’d been conceived when he was technically thirty-seven.
It hurt my head when I attempted to think it through. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’ ages had always done that. Being born a whole century and couple of decades ago made it certainly interesting and strange when for a time, neither man had looked their respective ages after being frozen for sixty plus years. On and off when it came to my uncle. Having been used for nearly seventy years by H.Y.D.R.A. They would pull him from cryo sleep whenever they needed someone like Buck to take care of something seedy in the shadows. But that was neither here nor there. All that mattered to me right now was the fact that I was here and my dad wasn't.
Having died a few years after I was born of old age, Steve Rogers abandoned us for a second time. Only this time he wouldn't come back. Because of my mom though there were a million photographs of the two of us together in the brief span of time we’d had before he’d passed away. Every moment from the second I was born all the way until he was on his deathbed there were pictures. He died just before my third birthday leaving me with no clear image of him in my mind. Those photos were all the ‘memories’ I had of him. Ones I both cherished as well as coming to resent. Anger at my father had begun to bubble inside me in the last year the more I thought about the man who’d chosen someone else over me and my mom.
I couldn't help it. Up until now all I had were those photos and the stories from the people who loved him the most. And unfortunately in the news when they would bring up his past missions. Usually it wasn't too bad. But then they would talk about the brief period when he'd taken uncle Bucky's side and refused to follow the Sokovia Accords. Then they got mean about it. That's when I got pissed off on his and my uncle's behalf.
My mom sided with them causing a minor rift with uncle Tony until she made him see reason. Or so she said. Then again there weren't many people who could say no to my mom. Ronnie Stark was the most beautiful woman I knew outside of my aunts. As much of a genius as her older brother, mom had started her own financial company when she was barely eighteen on her own merits. Refusing to use the Stark family name or money when her and Uncle Tony had a huge falling out when she herself was fourteen. Staying in France where she’d gone to boarding school in Paris overseen by her nanny since birth, Grace Johnson, mom stayed there full time after college that she'd gone to in London. Along with her business partner Jocquelin Lavigne, they had started Jarvis International Finance and had done extremely well for themselves before they finally merged with Stark Industries when her mom and uncle reconciled after his kidnapping in 2009.
It was in 2012 that my parents met when they fought together against Uncle Thor’s younger brother Loki and his intergalactic army. Just as daring as any man, Ronnie Stark had borrowed one of Uncle Tony’s Iron Man suits since she was in the formerly named Stark Industries building and helped to stop the god of Mischief right along with the rest of the team Nick Fury assembled. That's why it made no sense to me why my dad had chosen some lady from way back in 1949 over my mom. It just didn’t make any sense. Because Uncle Bucky was still here and he was living his life just fine. He was happy now and dating a really sweet woman named Aurelia or Lia as she liked to be called. So what made this Peggy Carter such hot shit that my dad wouldn’t want to be with my mom? Be with me…
The sound of muffled footsteps in the distance had Stephanie instantly on high alert.
Scanning the immediate area I shifted into a crouched position. I didn't see anyone, but I could hear them. Staying crouched I swiftly and silently moved up to the treeline until I had a barrier between me and whoever it was. Reaching for the Gerber Pledge from the back pocket of my white jean shorts I carefully opened the blade making sure to hide the slight snick when it locked in place like Buck had drilled into my head. Remembering my training I inhale slowly and equally as slowly release the pent up air as I steady my rapid heartbeat. Like Aunty Nat had told me a million times; being all amped up would make me sloppy which would only get me killed.
As whoever it was came closer to the creek, I could hear them pause as they no doubt looked around for me. A wide smug grin spreads across my face. They were shit out of luck because they wouldn’t find my footprints. Having been taught by the best of the former assassins in the world no one would find me unless I wanted them to.
Nervously licking my lips I flare my nostrils as I turn to face the tree so I could edge around the wide trunk. Ready to defend myself with deadly force if necessary. Not that I wanted to take someone’s life. But I would if attacked. It was a hazard of being Steve Rogers and Veronica Starks’ only child. Not to mention the connection I had with all of my famous aunts and uncles, both blood and unofficially adopted. Attempts had happened a time or two. No one ever got close enough, thank god. But when I was five, at my moms request, Bucky and Nat started training me on how to defend myself.
Taking a brief peek. Only long enough to get an idea of who was out there and then ducking back to hide. I let out a soundless huff of air cause I saw one of the only people who would make today better. Letting up the tight grip on my blade I hesitate to put it away for a second as an idea pops into my head. The mischievous urge to get in a bit of training tugs at me to show off. To sneak attack or not to sneak attack, that was the question. Though to be fair though..he was getting up there in age.
So folding the blade of the knife the former Winter Soldier himself gave me, I pocket it and step out for the man to see me. Bringing out my best version of puppy eyes that I know gets him every time and say in a hushed voice, “Am I in trouble?”
Head whipping around so fast it almost looked painful, the older man lets out a relieved breath when he sets those Stark brown eyes on me. Dressed down today in a faded black Metallica band t-shirt, a pair of beat up blue jeans and some Nike’s instead of one of his expensive suits and dress shoes. It was clear Uncle Tony had no plans to head into the city for Stark business at all today which made my heart happy. And if he was here then so was aunt Pepper and Morgan too.
Although my older cousin was probably not as thrilled as I was that she would be spending at least part of her day with me. At almost fifteen Morgan was getting less and less excited to hang out with me. Made sense. She was in high school now, would be a sophomore in the fall, and wanted to be with her friends more than being stuck with her little cousin.
Cracking that familiar crooked grin Tony said, “You would have been if I hadn’t found you.” Opening his arms for a hug, an expression of concern in his gaze when he looks her over. “Why’d you take off, Sweet pea?”
Letting out a big sigh I trudge the few feet between us until I’m standing right in front of him. How did I go about telling him how I was feeling without sounding like a jerk? Instead of words, I bury my head into his chest and allow my uncle to wrap me up in his always warm embrace. The comforting scent of his cologne fills my nose as I breathed deep leaching out some of the tension in my body.
Winding my thin arms around Tony’s waist I hug him back hard. Though I'm mindful of my strength. It was a constant thing I had to do so I didn't accidentally hurt the people I loved and cared about. Keeping my face smushed into him, I mumble loud enough for him to hear, “Didn’t want to hear the same old story about the day I was born over breakfast.”
Stephanie didn't need to look at him to know he was frowning down at her though there would be a twinkle of humor in his eyes. “Since when don't you want to hear all about the gross and sentimental details surrounding the momentous occasion that was your spectacular birth?”
Tipping my head back to rest my chin on his sternum I look into his dark chocolate colored eyes. Unable to lie to the man who had stepped into the role of father when my own was no longer there to be. Huffing out an annoyed grunt I grumble, “I hate my birthday. I get that everyone wants to celebrate me being alive and all. But..”
“But what, Sweet pea?” Her uncle nudges her chin with the knuckle of his index finger.
Averting my gaze I take a step back out of Tony’s arms to gain some much needed space. Folding my arms over my tank top covered chest that showed off my golden tan I frown. Allowing my anger and resentment to show for the first time I say snarkily, “Everything about the first week of July sucks. First of all, it's his birthday where all of America is celebrating all of his achievements all day everyday. Then all the news coverage about me being his daughter and all of the invasive photos they take of me year round like I'm some kind of freak. But it's not about me. It's always about him. I can’t even have one thing without him tainting it.”
I was sounding like a total spoiled brat but I didn't care. I was upset and lashing out at one of the few people who wouldn't completely get on my case. Knowing that my dad and uncle had their ups and downs over the span of time they knew each other. It was sort of a love/hate thing for a while in the beginning or so Tony said. So imagine my surprise when that wasn't the reaction that I got at my outburst.
Shock has Tony speechless for a moment before he holds up a hand to get her to ease down a bit. This was not at all what he'd been thinking that was up with his niece when he'd found her bedroom empty and the window open. At most he thought Steph had wanted to get in some extra training since Sam and Buck had been out town on a mission for the last two weeks. Not whatever this was. “Whoa there, Sweet pea. That’s a little harsh.”
“What, it’s true!” Every emotion that has been simmering under the surface boiled over now that the lid had finally come off. A rage fueled rant burst out of me that felt so good to get out. “All anyone wants to do is talk about Steve Rogers. How great he is and how much he’s missed. Well I don’t miss someone I can’t even remember. I don’t miss someone who abandoned me and my mom for some..some floozy from the 40s! I hate him! And I wish he wasn’t my dad!”
“Stephanie Maria Stark-Rogers, that’s enough!” Tony’s firm tone had my mouth clamping shut and my eyes widening at the use of my full name.
He never talked to me like this. Never. While he could be serious sometimes, my uncle was more silly than the authoritarian with me. So for him to even get close to yelling had me standing there in shock and more than a little remorseful.
Dark eyebrows furrowed, he went from her caring uncle to Tony Stark the billionaire businessman and former Avenger. Something she'd only seen him do with other people. “I won’t have you talking about your dad like this. I get you’re angry. Believe me, I get it. But that doesn’t mean you can go shooting off at the mouth about him so disrespectfully.” His frown deepens. “While you have every right to feel the way you do, you still have to respect the memory of your dad.”
“Why should I when he didn't respect my mom the way he should have?!” I shout, arms flung out wide.
Ah..so that's what this was about. Nodding to himself Tony inhales sharply through his nose before blowing out the air through his mouth. “If Steve knew about you, Sweet pea, he never would have stayed in the past. You have to know that.”
That had my back up. I didn’t get it. Why was he defending the man when it was his very own sister and niece Steve had dumped? With a mutanus set to my mouth I glared right back. “It shouldn’t have mattered if he knew about me or not, Uncle Tony. He should have stayed because it was the right thing to do. Going back and staying back was the wrong thing to do.”
When he opened his mouth I spoke over him. Determined to get this out. “For someone known as the Golden Boy of America he sure liked to break the damned rules whenever it suited him. I've read some of the stuff he did. The way he broke the law to get his point across instead of working the system. You and mom always tell me that you have to follow the rules. But he didn't! You'd think people would be more upset at the fact he broke the most important ones when he went back in time. He could have screwed stuff up. Who knows, he might have but we'll never know.”
Not knowing what to say to that because he agreed with her for the most part, Tony pursed his lips. She wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t thought to himself over the years. Still. “You done?”
When Stephaine doesn’t say a word he continues on. “Steve loved you, Steph. More than anything. But he was depressed when he decided to go back. The falling out him and I had on top of losing your uncle Bucky and uncle Sam and everyone else didn’t help matters. Not even your mom could get through to him. All Steve could think about was going back to a time that was simpler where someone he loved deeply was. So you need to cut him a break.”
Stephanie literally watched the anger drain out of him as he looked out at the creek. After a prolonged moment Tony says, “Was I pissed off at your dad after I found out my sister was pregnant by him after what he pulled? Sure I was. But what was done, was done. There was no changing it. We could only make the most of the time we had left with him. It was unfair to you because you lost out on knowing a really great man. It’s why we tell you stories about him. So you can get to know him the way we did. Flaws and all.”
Softening his harsh tone further he threads a hand through his graying black hair. “Being angry is normal, Sweet pea. I get it. You're growing up and coming into your own and your feelings for Steve are becoming complicated. I get it. The same feelings of loss and anger and sadness..I felt it all when my mom and dad died. For you it's different because you didn't get to know your dad the way I knew my parents. It is similar though. And I know it's easier to be mad at the dead. But it'll only eat you up inside if you let it consume you, Steph.”
Chin wobbling, I sniff a little as I turn my head to avoid seeing the sympathy in his expression. It was unfair. All I wanted was my dad in my life like all of my friends did. Not the stories of the good times everyone else got with him. I wanted him. Because a story couldn’t tuck you in at night or kiss your knee when you scraped it. A story couldn’t hold you when you were scared or hug you when you won at the science fair. Stories were nice and all, but they could never replace the person you needed.
Traitorous tears of defeat rolled down my face telling my uncle all my shouted words were nothing but hurt feelings. “Oh Sweet pea..Come here.”
When I fold my arms tighter around myself Tony walks over to wrap me up in his, holding me like every other time he had before when I was sad about my dad. Swaying from side to side Tony kisses the crown of my head. Murmuring soothing words that meant well but didn’t ever ease the sting of heartbreak, he petted my hair the way I liked when I was little. “Your dad might be gone. But never forget how much he loved you, Steph. To Steve, you and your mom were everything in the end and that’s all that matters. But if it hurts to hear about him, me and the others will back off.”
Now she felt bad. Stephaine knew that talking about her dad was a way to stay close to him. It wasn’t fair of her to ask that of them.
Shaking my head I wipe at my face when Tony reluctantly lets me go when I say, “It’s not fair of me to ask you to do that. And I do like hearing about my dad.” Cuffing one arm with my opposite hand I shrug limply. “Just maybe scale back a little around my birthday. It’s nice to get to know him through you guys. It just feels like my dad takes up all the special of my day, ya know?”
Telling her he could do that, her uncle slings an arm over her shoulders. “Done. I’ll talk to the others. And I’ll talk to your mom for you if you want. It might be better coming from me so we can avoid an outburst like the one you just had.”
That had me cringing with embarrassment. God, I can't believe I yelled all of that. Even if it felt good to do so in the moment, all it would do was hurt my mom. Because Ronnie Stark has always loved Steve Rogers and hearing anything negative about him had her upset. And with her not feeling good the last few weeks I definitely didn't want her angry with me.
So straightening up to my full height I looked him squarely in the eyes. “No, Uncle Tony. I’m old enough now to do it myself. Even if she can be scary.” I mumble that last bit under my breath, making him laugh.
“What, you know it’s true. All my mom has to do is give me that look and I feel like I’m a war criminal or something. Even you get scared of her when she looks at you like this,” Mimicking my mother, I tip my chin up and narrow my eyes ever so slightly. Filling my gaze with the same amount of unwavering perceptiveness she has, making him raise his hands in surrender.
Chuckling in agreement my uncle tips his head towards the trail that led home. “You’re right about that. Ronnie learned it from our mom. Think it was stored in her subconscious cause she wasn’t old enough to remember seeing our mom give me that look.” That has Stephanie giving him a sympathetic expression of her own. When her grandpa and grandma Stark died in 1991 her mom had barely been five years old to Tony's twenty-one.
Sensing the direction of her thoughts Tony added, “Maria Stark loved us like we were the center of her world. But if you crossed her she could quickly cut you down to size with just one tip of her chin. So let’s both avoid 'the look' by getting home so we can have breakfast. Besides, I have a surprise for the birthday girl and you’ll need enough fuel in the tank to enjoy it.”
Excitement creeps in, making me bounce on the balls of my feet. Tony’s surprises were always the best. Taking his offered hand I walk side by side with my uncle as we make their way back at a quick pace. Both in a bit of a rush knowing what was waiting for us once we made it back. Since it was my birthday mom will have made fresh Belgian waffles with all the unhealthy toppings to smother them in. Butter, whip cream, strawberry syrup, chocolate chips and sprinkles. The works. Along with the fresh squeezed orange juice and cheesy eggs. Just to even the sweets out a bit.
Mouth watering in anticipation, I end up leading Tony who stumbles a little trying to keep up with me. I might be shorter than him but I was faster. Soon enough the two of us were sitting at the dining room table where Morgan was sitting scrolling on her phone. With a nod of hello the older Stark cousin pushes a gift bag over to me before shifting into texting.
Leaning down to kiss the top of my head Tony goes to help my mom and aunt in the kitchen when they call for him. Glancing over at the other presents near my table setting I purse my lips with giddy excitement. Ready to tear into them but I don't, knowing my mom will want to take pictures. Rolling my eyes at the thought of the uselessness of the space on her phone, I spotted an envelope with my name on it propped up on my empty glass.
My breath catches when I recognize my dad's handwriting. Before he died my dad had written letters for me to be given to me by my mom on specific days. Apparently today was one of those days.
Noticing that my usual chatter was uncharacteristically silent, Morgan looked up from her phone to see my stunned expression. Setting the device that was practically glued to her hand down on the table, she cleared her throat as she tucked her equally dark but shorter styled hair behind her ears. “Steph, what's wrong?”
Unable to look away from the waiting envelope I whisper, “It's from my dad.”
Knowing just what to say to spur me into action, Morgan arches her eyebrows as she looks from me to the letter. “Well, are you gonna open it or just stare at it like it's gonna bite you?”
With shaking hands I reach for the sealed thick envelope. Swallowing audibly I chew on the inner part of my bottom lip. I could do this. It wasn't a big deal.
Lie.
This was a huge deal. Up till now I'd only received two other letters that my mom had had to read to me. Letters that I kept locked away in a special box in the back of my closet. They were simple notes that mainly just spoke about the time he spent with me as a baby and all of the things I was doing at the time. But this letter had some weight to it. And by the sounds of it, there was something inside to go along with it.
Tapping the envelope like I've seen my mom do a million times, I tear one side open and tip out the contents onto the table. The first being a set of dog tags just like my uncle Bucky wore. Picking them up I read what was stamped into the metal with hazy eyes.
Steven G. Rogers
98764320 T42 O
Camp Leigh, NJ
DOB: 07/04/1918
Swallowing roughly, I pick up the letter that consisted of several pages with my free hand. Carefully flattening them out to read.
That's as far as I can make it before I burst into noisy tears that has my mom rushing into the room. Her long black hair scraped into a messy bun on the top of her head, eyes narrowed on my cousin ready to dress down the teenager for whatever mean thing she might have said.
Not wanting to get into trouble Morgan quickly shouts, “It wasn't me!” as she holds up her hands in a show that said she was innocent.
Finally seeing what has me so upset, mom swiftly comes over to wrap me into her arms. Gently shushing me, she rocks us back and forth as I remain in my seat staring sightlessly at the letter and dog tags in my hands. Days like today were rough. Especially as I was getting older. Uncle Tony was right, my feelings for my dad were becoming complicated. Because when I woke up this morning I was angry at him. But now, seeing his love for me in his own handwriting had me crying like a baby. I just missed him so much.
-Author's note-
- A stóirín means little treasure in Gaelic. Steve's nickname for Stephanie.