𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗.
Charlie Stark-Rogers has grown up in the shadow of the world's greatest heroes. But spending your entire life in the face of danger takes its toll on anyone. She has secrets, thi...
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 cotton candy pink and lavender purple as Charlie sat on the front steps of the Lincoln Memorial, staring out across the Reflecting Pool.
She was still groggy, but the cool morning air was at least keeping her conscious. She shivered and pulled her thin exercise jacket over her hands, her leggings suddenly feeling not nearly thick enough.
Malibu isn't nearly this cold, she thought bitterly.
They were supposed to be on vacation for her birthday tomorrow, a family (plus Happy's entire security detail) trip to Washington, but Steve still insisted on waking her up to go on a 5 am run.
She had tried explaining to him and Tony that despite what her therapist said, she still didn't like running, or any kind of exercise, really. She didn't care if they thought it would make her feel better, she would rather be in bed.
Where her Dad currently was, across town in their hotel room, curled up peacefully, probably snoring. The coward.
But Steve was relentless.
Charlie had humored him long enough to run alongside him from the hotel to the Reflection Pool, and from there he decided to start doing laps.
She could see Pops now, his dark figure moving impossibly fast with perfect form. She stretched out and yawned, leaning back as he passed her.
"Working hard, huh, Doll?" Steve called out, sounding barely winded. To anyone else, it would look like he'd been sprinting for his life.
"Hardly workin'!" Charlie shouted back.
Steve groaned from twenty feet away as Charlie started cracking up. His voice carried oddly over the sidewalk, echoing through the Lincoln Memorial where his daughter sat. "That was terrible."
"My own dad doesn't like dad jokes?" she said, offended.
Steve waited until he'd rounded the Pool again before answering. "I'm not your Dad."
"That's right. You're Pops. So you like grandpa jokes?" Charlie nodded. "I see. I mean, I know you're old, but..."
"That's it," Steve huffed. "You're grounded."
Charlie gasped. "You can't ground me, it's my birthday tomorrow!"
"Respect your elders!" Steve shouted as he rounded the corner again.
Charlie smiled contently as she watched him run, the steady fall of his footsteps pounding along the ground. Soon another figure joined Steve from across the Pool, and Charlie wondered vaguely who else was crazy enough to get up at 5:30 in the morning to exercise.
The man had dark skin and close-cropped hair, wearing a thick gray Air Force sweatshirt and shorts. He was in really good shape, from what Charlie could see. And he was fast- way faster than Tony or even Clint.
