Chapter Text
Chris sits nervously as he waits for the social worker to walk through the door. His heart pounds as his leg bounces uncontrollably. He swipes a hand through his hair as he thinks of the first thing he and Theodore will do once they leave the group home. In a few minutes it will be official – Chris Evans is a father, a proud father, of an adoptive son.
“Mister Evans?”
Chris immediately stands up and straightens his clothes. He smiles widely as the social worker walks through the door with Theodore. Chris bends so he is at his son’s height.
The bubbly six year old skips towards Chris and wraps his arms tightly around Chris’ neck.
“Time to go home?”
Chris holds in the tears as he hugs the boy tightly. This is actually happening. “Yes. Time to go home. Your forever home.”
“Great!” Theodore squeaks out before letting go.
Chris stands to his full height, looking at the social worker. “Thank you. For everything.”
The elderly woman pushes the clear plastic glasses she wears up her nose and smiles, “you’re welcome. It’s been a joy helping you find the right child. Your son.”
My son, Chris thinks as he takes Theodore’s bag and then his small hand. I’m a father.
Chris had been wanting a family of his own for years. He had been raised in an enormous family. He had two sisters and a brother. Multitudes of cousins and other relatives. He had his nieces and nephews.
Chris hadn’t found the one, either. Relationships came and went. He had his heart broken various times over the course of nearly 39 years. He had broken some in return too. His heart longed for love, for finding the right woman to spend forever with, but with his busy work life love didn’t seem to be in the cards. Yet with the role of Captain America in the past and his schedule clearing up, he could focus on what matters most – starting a family, even if it meant a less traditional route.
His parents had adopted his younger sister. Chris knew there are plenty of kids in the world who needed a forever home. He also knew there were kids needing a home right here in Boston, so he began his search and got in touch with a social worker. She helped him with playdates and relationship-building sessions to find the right one.
Chris couldn’t find a perfect match, not at first. It took several months until the social worker found Theodore.
“Theodore has no one,” she had told him when they arrived at his group home two months ago, “he was abandoned at a hospital downtown. No one claimed him. Several foster parents mistreated him when he was a baby so he came to be at the group home when he turned two. No one’s really taken a chance on the boy.”
Chris had taken in the amber tint of his brown hair, the jade green color of his eyes. He had seen the boy’s wide eyed smile then heard the giggly laugh. Chris knew he had found his son.
“I’ll take the chance,” Chris had said with a confident and vibrant smile.
Yes, Chris now thinks as he and Theodore make their way out into the cool Boston spring air, this was the best chance I had ever taken.
-------
You walk the aisles of the local supermarket. Pushing the cart absentmindedly, wondering between aisles. Your eyes scan the list in your hand, most of it crossed off except for ice cream and toppings.
You were in charge of game night this week. A small get together with friends. They were coming to see the house you had poured your heart and soul into over the last few months.
Your grandmother had left her Sudbury home to you, which was a complete shock because you had preferred the family farm because of your writing career. The farmhouse was quiet and secluded, far from the hustle and bustle of the city.
You inwardly sigh as you approach the freezer aisle and begin walking down it. You grab a container of chocolate and vanilla then make your way further down the aisle and stop at the toppings section and grab a few things – chocolate and caramel sauce, sprinkles, cherries, candied nuts, and whipped cream.
Eventually making it through the checkout line and getting everything into the car, you drive back to the house and begin to unload. Your merle colored Australian Shepherd greets you at the back door as you open it widely. You have a heavy reusable in one hand and a light bag in the other.
She bounds out of the door, nearly making you trip over your own feet and fall into the house.
“Damnit!” You utter as you hurried inside of the house to place the bags down on the counter.
You run out of the house, moving your feet quickly as you search the backyard.
“Winter!?” You shout. “Winter?!”
She doesn’t come running from either direction as you spin on your heels.
You had been staying at the house for close to a month now. You had made sure to walk her every day, or at least every day, to accumulate her to the neighborhood. The neighborhood was quiet and mundane. You saw parents walking their children to and from school. Cars obeyed the signs, and the law. You saw elderly neighbors tend to their gardens. You were beginning to like being back in the suburbs.
Silence surrounds you as you feel defeated. You collapse to the ground and bury your head against your chest, trying to regain your normal breathing pattern.
A light giggle and deep chuckle from yards away break the serenity of the stillness.
“What a friendly doggy!” The childlike voice remarks.
You look up and into the jade eyes of a young boy. You see Winter looking at you with curiosity and sadness. You then look further up and into the blue eyes of a grown man.
“Yours?” He asks, motioning to the dog.
“Uh, yes,” you sigh as you scramble to your feet.
Chris holds out his hand. “I’m Chris. This is my son Theodore.” He motions towards the house. “You’re the one who bought the old Y/L/N house?”
“Well, not really,” you shake his hand and smile, “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N.”
“Oh,” Chris is taken back but smiles. “It’s nice to meet you Y/N.”
You let go of Chris’ strong hand, “I see you two have already met Winter. It's nice to meet you too. And Theodore of course.”
The boy smiles brightly as he hands you the leash Winter is on. “Nice to meet you too!”
You laugh lightly, “I hope to see you two around the neighborhood.”
Chris nods, “same,” he looks down at Theodore and brushes his shoulder, “we should get back. Family dinner’s tonight.”
Theodore looks up at his father and nods.
You watch them walk away then move your feet towards the open back door and walk in. You unhook the leash and look at it. It isn’t yours.
You close the back door as you head back out, trying to catch up with them but you don’t. They are nowhere to be found.
You stand quietly for seconds before you turn back around and head into the house. You place the red plaid leash on the hook next to the door. Hoping they'll come back and claim what’s theirs.