Chapter Text
Tony Stark seemed to have a habit of taking in strays.
Steve didn’t know much about the first child Tony became a guardian to; just that his name was Harley, and he lived in Tennessee. Tony kept in touch with him, would visit him occasionally, and made sure financially he would never have any issues. From what Steve knew, Harley was a good kid.
Then, it was Peter.
Steve knew that story much better.
Discovered to be Spiderman when he was fourteen years old (which still flabbergasted Steve), subsequently offered an internship, and for the next two and half years he would pop in and out of Avengers Tower like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Steve admired his ability to adapt and his genius intelligence. Not many kids would be able to stroll into the Avengers Commons or Stark labs the way he did. No kid other than him would be able to take a supersoldier (Steve) down in sparring. (He had yet to fully spar with Bucky. Peter was still a bit too nervous for that.)
When Peter was 17, his Aunt May died tragically. He was left legally still a minor without any blood relatives. Steve had never seen Tony swoop in so fast; he became Peter’s legal guardian almost immediately. Peter moved into the Tower full time.
He’s lived there ever since.
The last time Tony Stark took in a stray? It was technically you.
Except this time, Steve had a lot more to do with it.
Steve and Buck were infiltrating and destroying a rural HYDRA base when they found you , a teenage mutant locked in a cell, your body beaten and bruised. Bucky not only recognized you, he could identify who you were. He carried you out of that base with every intention of hunting down those HYDRA scientists. He stood by and helped make every major decision regarding your wellbeing, and he even suggested having you live with them to help acclimate you to the outside world. They placed you on Steve and Bucky’s floor, given your enhanced strength and speed, and the fact both of them could subdue you if you had a meltdown. At the time, it was a temporary fix. It became very permanent not long after when everyone fell in love with you. You were 15.
Saving your life saved Buck’s; that was clear to Steve. He branched out and became more and more like the man he once knew. He had to push through, past the Soldier living deep in his subconscious, to keep you safe.
Having a daughter, whether in name or not, saved James Barnes.
How old was Peter when you were discovered? 16? It was before he moved in full time. You were there for him through a lot of heartache, grief, Peter’s first full relationship (crush to breakup), and his evolution as Spiderman. He was there for you as you recovered from HYDRA conditioning, healed, grew stronger and faster and better , along with your everyday teenager problems and eventually all your college problems.
You two were basically attached at the hip.
You were three years into your undergrad at NYU. Peter was the same age as you, but he was on his second degree already. You barely saw each other during the work week, but when the weekend hit, you both booked it to the Tower.
That wasn’t always how things were.
But now you two had a system.
And your…closeness… to each other concerned Steve.
He snuck another glance at the two of you from the large kitchen island where he was seated. The two of you were curled up together on the couch, and it most certainly wasn’t out of necessity. There were plenty of seating options in the giant living room. The two of you shared a blanket, draped over your shoulders, as Peter held his phone, and you glanced at it with the most awestruck eyes.
Steve wanted to roll his eyes. Youths and their phones.
He looked down at the newspaper he was trying to read, but his thoughts were muddled. Why did your closeness bother him so much?
Is it because he sees you as his daughter?
Steve rubbed his face, internally scoffing at the notion. He did see you as his kid, but if you were anyone’s kid in the Tower, you were Bucky’s.
If Bucky saw the two of you right now…
Steve stifled a smirk. He’d sort through his thoughts later. All he knew was your cuddling was bothering him, and he knew exactly how to break it up without becoming the bad guy.
He sent a quick text to Bucky, telling him to come to the Commons.
He didn’t need to include anything else. He knew Bucky would listen, no questions asked.
And 10 minutes later, when the elevator dinged and a particularly gruff “what the fuck?” resounded through the Commons, Steve had to cover his smirk with the palm of his hand, his elbow resting on the island. He held the newspaper in the other hand, back turned to the commotion, while Bucky pried the two kids apart.
“You see that? It’s a TV. Be little tech-addicted robots through that, not your phone. You see this?” Steve could hear Bucky gesturing to the living room, “There are multiple cushions on these couches for relaxing while maintaining personal space.”
The sound of a blanket being thrown and hitting (probably) Peter made Steve turn around. “We also own more than one blanket, no need to share.”
Peter was now sitting on the other end of the sofa from you, a blanket draped over his head, a bit pout on his face. You were crossing your arms, glaring at Bucky. The one thing you picked up from him in the years you’ve lived in the Tower has been his major attitude.
You may have actually always had it, but it’s morphed to match Bucky’s almost identically. When the two of you argued, which you (thankfully) rarely did, it was hectic. You knew exactly how to press his buttons, and he seemed to know just the worst things to say in retaliation.
Steve held his breath, hoping you weren’t in a mood to argue as Bucky continued to demand a ‘one cushion apart rule,’ before he made his way to Steve.
Your eyes jumped from Bucky to Steve, your eyes narrowing. You could read him better than he seemed to be reading that stupid newspaper.
You stayed silent, but quietly made your way back to Peter’s side. You sat (somewhat) farther apart, and you used your own blankets, but you continued to watch whatever movie or show or TikiTok (or whatever it was called) on Peter’s phone.
“What’s up?” Bucky asked, stealing an orange slice from the half-peeled and eaten fruit in front of his best friend.
Steve stilled for a moment before making a decision. He folded the newspaper up, got up, and declared, “let’s spar a bit.”
—————
A thin layer of sweat shined on the bodies of both supersoldiers. Steve wiped the last of the water from his lips, setting his bottle down on the bench. Bucky was stretching on the padded floor.
“You called me just to separate them, didn’t you?”
Steve gave Buck a guilty smile. “You think there’s something going on between them?”
His best friend scoffed, shaking his head. “There’s been something goin’ on between them since the moment they met.”