I Thought You Were Different: Part 6

Paced

The sound of Steve's heavy, pacing footsteps on the other side of the door to Brooke's room wasn't helping the situation of getting your daughter to talk to you; she knew that once you were done, he would be next, and she just wasn't ready for that. She didn't fear your reactions, because the two of you were probably the most understanding people she had ever known. What she did fear was the look in his eyes that he would try to hide; the glimmer of disappointment that would be there and would likely be there every time he looked at her for the rest of his life.

"This wasn't supposed to happen, Mom," she cried quietly, leaning against you, "it isn't how I wanted this to happen. We talked about getting married, and now that Ant did it, I feel better about it than I was, but with this everything is just a mess. I don't want it to seem like I'm getting married now because I have to."

"No one will think that, honey."

"But will anyone expect it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dad," she sighed heavily. "Dad will expect it, won't he? I can't have a baby and not be married, he'll never be okay with that. He's old school, Mom."

"Give your father a little bit more credit, Brooke. The only thing that he's going to focus on is that you're both healthy, and that you're happy. You know that he would go to the ends of the earth for you and it's going to be the same for his first grandchild. Don't even get me started on how your own grandfather is going to be with this," you smiled, wiping her tears away. "Baby, we're going to do anything that you need from us. We're going to be here for you, and there's nothing you could do that would change that."

As if on cue, a gentle knock sounded at her door, when Steve couldn't wait another minute. "Can I come in? Please? I'll behave."

"Come in, Dad."

"Do you want me to go?"

"No, Mom, stay," she insisted, taking your hand. She held her breath at the sight of Steve as the door opened slowly and he peeked his head in first, gauging the situation before fully entering and closing it behind him. "Hey, Dad," she tried, but the words caught in her throat and choked away, leaving her fully engulfed in tears again and unable to say any more.

"Oh, honey, don't cry," he urged, moving quickly to kneel in front of her, "please. I'm not mad. I'm not disappointed. I'm just worried. The only thing I care about right now is my girl and knowing that she's okay."

"I'm sorry, Daddy, this isn't how it was supposed to go."

"I know." Steve held the silence for a moment, considering how to word his question so that he wouldn't scare his daughter into pushing him away, but he had to know the one thing that would make him drop his promise of always being the good guy; the one thing that could blur the lines between protective father and dangerous rogue Avenger. "Is he being a good man about this, Brooke? Because if he's not-"

The question straightened her posture and animated her quickly, looking back and forth between the two of you with a renewed energy to stop any misunderstandings immediately. "Oh, you guys, no...he's being wonderful," she answered emphatically. "He's never been more protective or attentive and he's always making sure that I'm alright. I'm the one who asked him to stay away until I was able to tell you about this. With everything happening here lately he's been doing anything I ask just to keep my stress under control. He wants to make sure that he lives up to your standards, Dad, trust me."

"Yeah, because that's attainable," Steve chuckled. "I'm a tough act to follow."

~~~

Steve led you to the dining room, where there was a table set up and decorated with dinner already served, candles lit, and a bottle of wine with two full glasses. You looked up at him and wondered how you were going to give him the news that he would never expect to hear, given that the two of you hadn't really ever discussed the possibility and now suddenly here it was. The two glasses sitting next to each other gave you a small wave of panic, and your words just tumbled out.