"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yea, it'll be fine. Although, I think my credibility for determining what's a good or bad idea went out the window when I got pregnant from what was supposed to be a one night stand."

Steve laughed, reaching for (Y/n)'s hand as they walked into an Italian restaurant downtown. She had informed him yesterday that she had made plans to meet up with her mother, and that she was hoping he would come along. Apparently, (Y/n) was under the impression that she might be able to smooth things over with her mother if she just met Steve in person and talked things through. Steve, however, was thoroughly unconvinced.

They were fifteen minutes early for their reservation, as (Y/n) had insisted that they should arrive before her mom, to make a good impression. Even so, he saw a look of relief on (Y/n)'s face when the waiter led them to their table and she was able to confirm they had beaten her mother there. Steve took the seat next to hers, his anxiety gradually increasing the longer they waited. Nodding along distractedly as (Y/n) started debating the pros and cons of which pasta she wanted to order, he brainstormed different things he could say to her mom that might help win him some favor with her.

Steve had never done the whole, 'meet the parents thing' before. He had a feeling he would have been nervous no matter what the situation was, but knowing that (Y/n)'s mother already disapproved of him made it all the more nerve-wracking. He felt like nothing he could say would be good enough to make her approve of him. Reaching up to his neck, Steve straightened his tie back and forth anxiously, trying to find the perfect knot.

(Y/n) seemed to notice he was struggling and reached over moving his hands out of the way.

"Don't worry, okay? Everything's going to be fine," she said, loosening the knot that Steve had managed to pull all the way up to his chin, without realizing.

"I told my mom to be on her best behavior and she promised me she would be. I just want her to see the real you. I mean the you that I see, not just the guy in the uniform she sees on TV."

When she finished loosening the knot, she leaned in, kissing the side of his shoulder gently before resting her head on it.

"Just be yourself and she won't be able to resist. I really think that if the two of you just talk she'll be able to see that you're a guy who won't hurt me. That you're a guy she can trust."

She reached her hand underneath the table to find his own, giving it a gentle squeeze in reassurance. The momentary comfort her words brought dissipated slightly and was quickly replaced by an overwhelming and all too familiar sense of guilt. It had been over two weeks since he had made his promise to Peter and yet he still had not told (Y/n) about the contract. As (Y/n) continued to rest her head on his shoulder, Steve's thoughts drifted to his failed attempt to come clean the week before.

-----------

Steve stood outside the door to (Y/N)'s room. As much as he didn't want to, it was time to tell her everything. And it wasn't just because of Peter finding out, he was tired of keeping this secret from her. There was a possibility that he would tell her and she would want nothing to do with him anymore. This was a possibility that terrified him, almost enough to prevent him from going through with it. Instead he tried to focus on the more optimistic outlook, and hope that because he wasn't asking her to sign the contract, just telling her that Tony had pushed for its creation, that she would be maybe a little bit disappointed but understanding.

Raising his fist, Steve knocked on the door. He waited a moment but didn't hear a response so he slowly cracked the door open, peering inside. (Y/n) was on her bed, notebooks, highlighters, and binders, spread out everywhere, as she intensely scribbled. Loud music blared from her headphones, which Steve figured had been the reason for her not hearing his knock, moments ago. Seeing he had entered the room (Y/n) paused the music, pulling off the headphones with one hand, while still writing with the other.

Steve went over to the bed, moving a few papers out of the way to sit next to her.

"I know you're busy (Y/n), but I need to tell you something," he began, reaching over to where she sat and resting a hand on her knee.

"Ughhh I fucking hate finals," she groaned, continuing to copy down something from the online textbook on her laptop screen, to the spiral notebook in front of her.

"I swear if I didn't only have this semester left to go before I graduate and get the hell out of there I would start a petition to force teachers to stop using comprehensive exams as torture devices."

Steve figured she must have been too concentrated on her studies to realize what he had said before, but quickly forgot his reason for coming to talk to her when he took in her appearance. (Y/n) looked like she hadn't slept in days, her eyes were red and puffy, and her clothes were scattered around the floor. She had been so busy studying for finals the past few days that Steve hadn't really been able to see her, but now that he could he was quite alarmed. (Y/n) was normally more put together. Her room was barely ever a mess, and she was fairly consistent about getting a good night's sleep, so seeing her like this made him grow concerned that she was prioritizing academics over taking care of herself as well as she should.

"Is the studying not going well?" he asked, not being able to hide the worry in his voice.

"No I'm just having a hard time staying focused," she replied, reaching for her blue highlighter and outlining something she had just written down.

"I wonder if I could get Peter to wear a wig and go take the exam as me instead," she joked, half-heartedly.

He knew she was putting up a front, and joking around in hopes that Steve wouldn't worry about her. For some reason he was always able to see right through her.

"Have you been eating enough? Drinking enough?" he asked, eyes wandering to the full water bottle and untouched granola bar on her night stand. He reached for the bottle, handing it to her and she just nodded, taking a few sips absentmindedly, while rubbing her eyes.

"You could always take a break? You've been studying pretty much non-stop," he suggested. He knew (Y/n) knew how to take care of herself, but he also knew how much pressure she put on herself in situations like this.

Steve had gotten the sense that (Y/n) felt responsible for not being able to keep her parents together. He knew that it wasn't true, and if he asked her she would deny it, but deep down he was certain there was some part of her that felt like a failure for being a part of such a broken family. Because of this, every time there was a situation where she could control the outcome she did everything in her power to make sure she would succeed. He was proud of how successful she was but he was worried that sometimes it came at the price of a shift in her priorities and an insane amount of stress.

(Y/n) shrugged, smiling at him quickly before scrolling through her online textbook, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. Steve sighed, pulling his hand from its spot on her knee, figuring that if he couldn't get her to take a break he could at least go and get her a smoothie or something to fill her stomach.

Just as he was about to get up (Y/n) capped her highlighter and looked at him.

"Sorry, did you say you had something you wanted to tell me?" she asked, closing her laptop to give him her full attention.

Her words brought Steve back to the real reason he had come to talk to her in the first place. He opened his mouth to speak but froze for a second. On the one hand, he wanted to get the whole thing over with and tell her the truth. But seeing how stressed she was now and had been the last few days had him questioning whether it was a good idea. She was in the middle of finals, not to mention everything she was doing to get ready for the baby. It just didn't feel like the right time to add another possible stressor to her life.

"Oh yea forget that, I just wanted to check in on you," Steve replied, making up his mind on the spot, leaning forward to kiss her forehead gently.

-----------

After that conversation Steve had another talk with Peter. While he wasn't happy about it, Peter was understanding enough to agree to not tell (Y/n) about the contract until she was done with finals. Thankfully, that was only a few days away so the secret would not be kept from her much longer. At least that's what he told himself. Part of him still wished he could just pretend like the papers didn't exist. He wasn't sure why he couldn't just tear them to shreds. He thought maybe it was just because of how much time and effort on Tony's part had gone into making the contract, but deep down he suspected there might be a different reason that he wasn't ready to admit yet.

Steve was pulled from his thoughts when he felt (Y/n) move her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder, and get out of her chair to hug a woman he assumed must be (Y/n)'s mother. Steve got up from the chair to stand by them.

"Mom this is Steve, Steve meet my mom," (Y/n) said, moving out of the way.

"Nice to finally meet you ma'am," Steve said, sticking out his hand for her to shake. If it wasn't for the similarities in their facial features, Steve would never have guessed that she was related to (Y/n). Her mother was dressed in a beige pencil skirt and matching blazer, and her hair was pulled in a tight bun near her neck in stark contrast to the way (Y/n)'s messy bun would rest on the top of her head.

"You as well," she replied, returning the handshake.

They all sat back down, (Y/n)'s mom taking the seat across from her daughter.

"I must say, you look quite different in person," she said, looking him up and down from the other end of the table. "I've seen you in the news a number of times but always in the suit, I suppose you are something of a celebrity."

"I wouldn't say celebrity," Steve said, clearing his throat. He didn't want to be rude but wanted to clear up any misconceptions she might have about his professional life. (Y/n) gave him an encouraging smile so he continued. "To be honest, I hardly ever get recognized when I'm not wearing the suit. And I don't really ever wear the suit in public unless I'm working and there's hardly any time to talk to anyone then."

"Well when Ben and Jerry's names a flavor after you that has to count as being at least a little famous," she noted. "I must say it's fine work you do. I don't know too much about it but from what I've seen you all must be very brave."

Steve was a little taken aback by the compliment. He didn't pick his line of work because he thought it made him brave, it had always just felt like a responsibility. If other men were willing to fight for the peace and freedom of others, he had no right to do anything but just that. But that seemed like an unnecessary comment to make at the moment.

"Thank you Ma'am," he responded. She didn't reply but just smiled and nodded, peering at the menu in front of her. (Y/n) gave him a smile and a quick thumbs up under the table, so she must have thought things were going well so far. This helped Steve relax significantly.

Their dinner went by rather quickly after this. (Y/n) and her mother made small talk for a while, occasionally Steve would jump in and answer a question when he was addressed. All in all things had gone fairly well. She was polite, and took an interest in learning more about Steve's likes and dislikes, and his family history. She had even laughed at a few of his jokes.

When their dinner plates cleared, the three of them each ordered a scoop of gelato. (Y/n) stood up from her seat, and pushed in her chair.

"I'm going to use the ladies room real quick, be back in a moment," she said, giving Steve's shoulder a light squeeze before heading off to find the restrooms. (Y/n)'s mom stood up slightly, shuffling into the seat so that she was sitting directly across from Steve.

Steve wasn't quite sure what to say, finding the whole thing a little suspicious and unusual.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"I'm only going to say this once, but know that I mean every word of what I am about to say," she stated, folding her hands together in front of her like she was running a meeting while Steve just stared at her warily.

"I don't care if you're polite. I don't care if you're nice. You could be Mickey fucking Mouse for all I care and I wouldn't give a damn. But my daughter seems to worship the ground you walk on and that, I care a great deal about."

Steve was so stunned by her words he continued to just stare at her blankly. He was beginning to understand how she had managed to put (Y/n) in the state she had been the other day when he came back from his mission. She had a way of capturing you and putting you into some kind of trance with her words. It was like you were stuck trying to wade through a river of molasses, always seeing the other side but never being able to move yourself enough to get there. Steve figured she would have made an excellent lawyer.

"You can put on your jeans and your tie and look just like the rest of us, but you're not and you never will be. Your suit and your shield follow you everywhere you go because that's your job. I respect that but not when it comes to my daughter."

Steve was getting over his initial shock his heart growing heavier the longer she spoke. It was starting to become more clear where this conversation was heading and he didn't want any part of it. He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her finger in warning.

"My daughter deserves to be someone's first priority but the world is your first priority. Your job will always come first to you. That's your choice and I even understand that choice better than most but now you've made that choice for my daughter as well. I think that's incredibly selfish," she stated.

If looks could cut, the look she gave him would have split him in two. But Steve wasn't the type to go down with a fight.

"So what would you have me do? Throw her out and tell her I want nothing to do with her or my child?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice matched hers, even and calm but icy, as if each word had sharp edges.

"Yes," she said blankly.

"You can't be serious," Steve scoffed, taking the napkin from his lap and tossing it on the table.

"I told you I meant every word didn't I? I don't think you are good for my daughter. I don't trust that you will give her what she deserves. I'd rather see her handle this pregnancy on her own like I know she can, then watch her give her heart to you, only for you to disappoint her time and time again. I will never trust a man who won't put her first, that's not how relationships work."

He was doing his best to keep his cool but the more she spoke the harder it was getting for him to remain calm. (Y/n) was stressed enough already, and he didn't want to add to that by saying something he would regret later.

"I'm not going to disappoint her. I care very much for your daughter and having a stressful job doesn't mean that I can't make her happy," Steve replied earnestly.

Nothing he could say felt good enough. There weren't words in the dictionary to describe how much he cared for her daughter. How much he wanted to be the one to cherish and protect her. He had no idea how to convince her she was wrong, and still felt like there were words being left unsaid. That there was some other reason (Y/n)'s mother disapproved of their relationship.

"You still don't get it. You both are so... naive. You barely know each other and have jumped into things way too fast for all the wrong reasons," she said, waving her hand in the air dismissively.

"One person in two months can make you feel what a person in two years couldn't. Time means nothing, but character does," Steve answered, firmly.

She stared at him silently for a moment before shaking her head back and forth. When she looked at him she didn't see Steve. She saw (Y/n)'s father, and even worse saw (Y/n) heading down the same path she had gone. The path of being stuck in a relationship out of obligation and where love came from only one side instead of two. She wanted her to get out now before she got hurt.

"It's your character that worries me. She's beginning to love you, I can see it in her eyes. Meanwhile you're trying to make this relationship with her work because of the baby. If you truly had feelings for her you would have tried to contact her, in the weeks after you had met. But you didn't. You let her walk away and made no effort to find her again!" she pointed out.

"You feel the need to step up and be the baby's father because you always have to do what's right. You're the soldier, you're the hero, you're the savior. You're doing this because you think it's the right thing not because you love her. She deserves to be loved."

Steve opened his mouth ready to contradict her but stopped himself short. It came as a little bit of a surprise how ready he was to say that he loved (Y/n). It was still fairly early on in their relationship, but in a way it felt like this was a long time coming. Like he said before, time can play funny tricks on the mind when hearts are involved. It was (Y/n). How could he not love her? He wanted to tell the woman she was wrong. He wanted to tell her that baby or no baby he loved (Y/n) all the same. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. It just didn't seem right for the first time he said it out loud to be in an argument with her mom. He shut his mouth, not sure what to say next which she took as further proof that she was right. Steve groaned internally.

"She's going to realize the truth one day. She's going to decide she needs more than someone who will always put their job first. She's going to want someone who loves her and not just her child. She's going to see she was wrong to put her love and trust in a man when she should have just put faith in herself."

She glanced to the side, and (Y/n) could be seen making her way back from the bathroom, smiling brightly. Her mom shifted back to her regular seat, while maintaining a cold and hard eye contact.

"Mark my words, Steve Rogers, you're going to break her heart. So in my eyes, you're no hero. You're the villain."