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Christmas at Avengers Tower was a loud and chaotic affair.
Full of voices and laughter, clinking glasses, Nat’s dry commentary, and Clint secretly finding out who everyone’s Secret Santa was. The lights had been strung around the common room windows, and next to the fireplace was an enormous tree.
Tony’s caterer’s had laid on a feast that even Thor had stuck around for, the Barton family had descended from the farm and the kids had taken over.
Steve lingered near the tree, nursing a mug he’d forgotten to drink from, content to watch it all unfold around him.
He’d always been better at listening.
With dinner over, people had taken to their presents - Sam was helping Clint set up a new remote control car for Cooper Barton and Natasha was colouring with Lila and Laura.
The Secret Santa gifts were still lined up under the tree, the only ones left.
Back in early December, the idea came up casually - it came from Sam.
“What do you all want for Christmas?” Sam asked from somewhere behind Steve. “Like, really want.”
People threw out answers. Sleep. Peace and quiet. A day without aliens. Clint said socks and got booed.
When it got to her, she shrugged.
“All I want for Christmas is for someone to listen.”
She laughed it off immediately, like she hadn’t meant it.
Steve felt it anyway.
He didn’t really look at her or move, just stood next to Bruce and committed the sound of her voice to memory. And he didn’t forget her Christmas wish.
“We should give those out,” Clint said, eyeing the gifts with suspicion.
“Why? You know who everyone got, I bet you know all the gift too -” Natasha looked at him pointedly.
Laura outed him. “He was up at 6am with the kids shaking them all.”
“Well I’ll wager he got a shock when -”
“- I did, man, I did get a shock. Thanks for that.” Clint interrupted Thor who smiled smugly.
“Well now I need to know who Thor was buyin’ for!” Sam grinned, digging under the tree and squinting at the first tag. “Alright… Stark, you’re up.”
Tony groaned dramatically but accepted the gift that came sailing through the air towards him, he immediately tried to guess who’d drawn him as he unwrapped a self-stiring, reheating coffee mug. “You know I already made one of these myself, whoever you are?”
Steve stayed where he was, watching her from the edge of the room.
She sat cross-legged on the rug near the tree, half-listening, half-smiling, passing gifts along when Sam missed his mark. She looked relaxed and happy with little Nate sitting in her lap.
He hadn’t planned to go last, but by the time Sam had cleared under the tree, amid the chaos of wrapping paper and shouting over each other, she was the only one without a gift.
Sam frowned at the un-tagged gift and hesitated.
“Huh,” he said. “This one doesn’t have a name on it.”
Steve straightened slightly.
“Anyone not have a Secret Santa gift yet?”
Her hand lifted shyly and he tossed it in her direction.
She caught it easily, surprise flashing across her face as she turned the small box over in her hands.
“This is… for me?” she asked, genuinely confused.
“What, you think your Santa forgot about you?” Tony asked with a smirk.
“He didn't,” Steve confirmed from where he stood.
Her gaze snapped up to him.
“Oh.”
The room didn’t go silent, but the people who had been paying attention noticed.
She stood, moving toward Steve slowly, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to close the distance.
“You didn’t have to -” she started.
“I did, actually. It’s kinda the main rule of the game” Steve teased gently. “Also, I wanted to.”
He gestured toward the quieter corner near the windows, away from the tree and the noise. She followed without question.
Up close, he could see the flicker of nerves in her expression.
“OK,” she said softly. “I’m listening.”
Steve smiled.
“Back when we were planning this,” he said, “when Sam asked what everyone wanted… you said something.”
Her brow furrowed. “I did?”
“You said you just wanted someone to listen.”
Her breath caught, he noticed.
“I know you played it off as a joke,” he continued. “But I did. Listen, that is.”
He gestured at the gift in her hands.
“It’s not much,” he shrugged self-consciously. “But it felt right.”
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a slim notebook with a plain hardback cover. When she flipped it open, she stopped.
The first page wasn’t blank.
Neither were the next few.
It was littered with short lines, observations and sketches of moments in time.
Things she’d said in passing, things she hadn’t realised anyone had heard or noticed.
Her throat tightened.
“You… wrote these? Drew the sketches?” she asked quietly.
Steve nodded. “I didn’t want to forget a single moment.”
She looked up at him, overwhelmed, her eyes swimming with tears.
“You’ve been listening,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied. “For a while.”
She closed the notebook gently and held it to her chest.
“Steve,” she said, voice unsteady. “This is -”
“I’m not asking for anything,” he interrupted softly. “I just wanted you to know.”
She hugged the notebook tighter. “And if I wanted you to keep listening?”
His answer came without delay.
“I would,” he said. “As long as you’d let me.”
She smiled softly, a relieved exhale barely audible.
“Merry Christmas, Steve.”
“Merry Christmas.”
When the night wound down and the tower lights dimmed, they sat side by side on the couch.
Steve didn’t say much.
He didn’t need to.
He was listening.