As expected, the news didn't go over very well. After sitting the team down and explaining what FRIDAY had shown you, you saw Tony go through the stages of grief within a matter of seconds, culminating in a furious slam of his fists against the unforgiving table top and spouting a string of intelligible profanities before storming out of the conference room and completely ignoring your call for him to stop.

"Let him go, doll," Steve urged quietly when you stood, "he needs time to process, and now it takes a little longer than he's used to."

~~~

Tony wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse that Nick had refused his direction to take this old crate of crap back with him, but he now found himself once again sitting in front of it, battling himself to decide if he wanted to delve in or just throw it all away. He didn't really care if there were things that Steve might want in here, at least not right now with the way he was feeling towards the guy; he wasn't even sure if he cared that there were things that he might want for himself. If he closed his mind to bad luck and to the course of fate, he could convince himself that his injury now was Howard's fault for bringing Steve into his life in the first place. That was something that Tony excelled in; blaming his father for anything he wanted to since the man wasn't around to argue the point.

Steve had dominated so many conversations and so many moments lost with his father as he grew up that Tony couldn't reconcile himself to believe that he would offer up his own life for the man now. Even if it were to save him for you, it felt like a stretch. It possibly, maybe, wasn't completely Steve's fault, and maybe the deep-seeded hatred was misguided towards him, but some of it had to be his to own. He didn't have any control about how Howard felt and how he treated Tony because of it; hell, he the poor guy was frozen for pretty much all of Tony's life so far. It seemed like he was a nice enough guy and sickeningly polite; you liked him, after all, so he couldn't be all bad, because Tony was certain that he had raised you better than that. It wasn't taking long for Tony to talk himself into circles, now confused even more about how he felt towards Steve.

The door opened slowly and caught his attention, jolting him from the rambling thoughts rattling around in his mind and the troubling realization about what he had done for a man that he had spent most of his life hating to his very core.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he greeted with a smile, but it was quickly dashed when he realized his error.

"It's Brooklyn, Grandpa."

"Right, sorry, kiddo," he waved dismissively with a sorrowful groan and a weary tap of his hand to his head, "blame the busted brain. You just look exactly like your mom when she was your age."

"It's okay. I just came down here to see what you were up to."

"Who sent you?"

"Me," she shrugged. "Can't I worry about you on my own?"

Tony smiled genuinely, perhaps for the first time since the accident, pausing to take in the sight of the girl and to admire how right he was; the two of you were so alike that he really struggled to tell the difference. "You sure are a little version of (Y/N). You're not much older than she was when I adopted her, did you know that?"

"Wait," Brooklyn stopped mid-stride, furrowing her brow in confusion, "you adopted mom? So, we're not actually related to you?"

"Didn't you know that?"

"Boss," FRIDAY broke in, "there are some details that have come to light in recent years that may have escaped you in the accident. (Y/N) is your biological daughter."

"No shit," he gasped under his breath, looking completely surprised at first, but within seconds his expression relaxed into one of acceptance and even relief. "Wow, I can't believe this. Now, this is going to sound really terrible, so hold the judgment, but...who's her mother?"

"I think it best to talk to (Y/N) about that," FRIDAY offered, "because there are some very significant events in the last several years that she should catch you up on."

"Hmm, right," he mumbled, his mind again racing at the amazement of this new information.

"So, whatcha got there, Grandpa?" Brooklyn asked, trying to draw him back out into the conversation. "That's a pretty big box of stuff."

Tony shook his head to clear the clutter in it, looking down at the girl again with a smile that wasn't nearly as bright as before. "Just some old stuff from my dad, probably a few things from your dad and his old girlfriend. Do you want to help me go through it?"

"Do you want me to? It sounds like maybe Mom would be a better choice, and there might be some things that you'll want to look at by yourself."

"Yeah, you're definitely just like her. You're too smart for your own good." He stretched out his hand to ask her to join him, taking the crate and moving it onto the table where they could both sit together as they explored its contents. "Sweetheart, if I didn't want your help, I wouldn't have asked. I'd love it if you could help me to learn who I am again, if you're up for it."

Brooklyn looked up at her grandpa, trying to hold in her emotions and the stinging tears that were building, but she failed, unable to stop them before they spilled out. "I'd do anything for you, Grandpa. I'm going to help you, and I won't stop until we figure this out."

"God, you're so much her."

~~~

"Are you ready for this?"

"It's just an ultrasound, Steve. These are easy."

"I know, but I still get nervous," he smiled softly. "What if they see something wrong? What if...what if there's like six or seven in there this time?"

"Then I'm tapping out," you scoffed. "Damn, you really know how to make a girl feel better about this. I wasn't nervous before, so thanks for that."

"I'm sorry! I can't help it! You were there when we ended up with three, so why aren't you freaking out more?"

"I'm not going to freak out unless they give us something to freak out over," you replied as calmly as you could, taking his hand, "so let's take a deep breath, honey. I'm sure that everything is just fine."

"Mmm hmm." Steve continued to think about the possibilities, rather than trying to calm himself as you had told him to do, allowing his mind to run in all directions that led him to problems and fears rather than towards anything good. He didn't like to play the role of pessimist, but in things that dealt with you or his children, that was the only role that came to him so readily. "You're right," he nodded, "you're right...but...okay, but seriously, what if there's more than one?"

"You need to stop," you snapped, just about to say more when the door to your exam room opened and the tech came in to begin, looking far too excited with her perky little self in her tight white lab coat, bouncing herself to her chair with more energy than you had felt in weeks. Not that you had even an ounce of worry, but you couldn't help but glance at your husband just to make sure that he wasn't staring at the show she was giving. Much to your relief, he had eyes only for you.

"Alright, here we go," she smiled, taking ultrasound wand in hand to rest on your stomach, "this might be a little chilly."

"Yep," you shuddered, "just a bit." You turned your head to watch the screen, though you really weren't sure about what you were seeing. She began to point out a few general things and a few anatomical landmarks, but you could feel the tension in Steve's hand when she wasn't saying the one thing that he needed to know.

"There's only one, right?" he blurted out, hanging his head in embarrassment when you shot him a warning glance to stop.

"Yes, Captain, I see only one."

"No one hiding behind her?"

"Not that I've found so far...wait..." she paused, her hand stopping abruptly. She leaned in closer to her screen, studying the unidentifiable waves and shadows, taking picture after picture as she looked, leaving you and Steve immediately on edge. "Excuse me," she said with a gentle smile that did nothing to reassure you, "I'll be right back."

"Okay, now I'm freaking out," you whispered, your breaths speeding up enough for Steve to notice. "What the hell was that?"

Seeing you growing concerned flipped the switch in Steve's mind, sending him into the protective mode that came out whenever he was worried about you. He sat up straighter in his chair and pushed it even closer to you, now taking both of your hands in his. "It's going to be okay. Maybe she just needs another pair of eyes to help her out."

"Yeah, maybe..."

When the door finally opened again, the same tech entered the room first, but now she was followed by another person that you hadn't met yet, who looked to be much older and carried an air of annoyance with him that he was being bothered for this. That was, until he turned to see who his patient and her husband were.

"Ah, hello, (Y/N), Captain Rogers," he smiled eagerly now, "I'm Doctor Madsen. I was asked to take a look at your ultrasound here..." he stopped, turning to the screen, "just to help be sure that we're seeing the same thing."

"And what would that be, exactly?" Steve asked, his voice carrying his distaste at the secrecy thus far.

"Well, from what I can see, the baby's size is a little behind where we would expect it to be. Nothing severe, but enough that we should keep a close eye on this. Were your other children born at a healthy weight? How about either of you?"

"My mother's dead, and my father didn't know that I existed then so I can't ask."

"I was born in the 40's so we didn't do scans like this."

"Right," the doctor sighed, "I knew that, apologies."

"I did have a laundry list of health problems though, before the serum," Steve continued, "so is there a chance that I might have handed some of that down to her? Do you think that my DNA could still have some of that to pass on?"

"I really can't say, Captain, I'm sorry. All that I can do is continue to monitor your baby's growth and watch for any changes. Once she's born we'll know much more about anything that may have been passed to her. The best that we can do is to wait and take one thing at a time."

~~~

Tony and Brooklyn sat quietly next to each other, now with items scattered out over the table in front of them and the crate that they had arrived in tossed carelessly on the floor at their side. The contents weren't divided into any particular order or category, leaving it harder to distinguish what they were and what they could mean, but it didn't stop the young girl from giving it her best effort to help Tony.

"Did you open this?" she asked, holding up the letter that he was going to read before Steve had forced him from the building at your order. "It has your name on it."

"Yeah, I did, but I haven't read it yet. Honestly, kiddo, I'm not sure if I want to. It's from my dad, and he and I weren't exactly on the best terms."

"Okay, well how about if I just set it over here, and when you're ready, I'll have it for you?"

"Thanks, I like that plan."

"I know that if my dad had left a letter for me to read after he was gone, I'd want to read it no matter what," she added, setting the envelope down carefully. "Even if we were mad at each other, I'd want to have any part of him that I could."

"Sure, but your dad is a good guy."

Brooklyn's head snapped towards Tony in shock, her eyes wide as she realized what she had just heard. "That's a new view of him for you, Grandpa. I thought you didn't like my dad anymore?"

"Let's not make that public knowledge just yet, alright? I like that he's working so hard to get on my good side. Alright," he smiled with an eager clap of his hands, "what else we got in this pile of junk?"

"Oh my gosh, what is this?"

"What?"

Brooklyn giggled quietly to herself, plucking an item from the pile to hide it behind her back quickly. "Nothing! It's nothing, sorry! Nothing at all."

"Gimme."

"No," she insisted, but when his hand jutted out towards her and the stern look left her questioning her own resolve and if he would punish disobedience, she slowly gave in and handed him the small and worn stuffed bear that she had found in the mess. "Please, tell me this was yours."

"What the...? How would this get in there?" he questioned to himself, grabbing the toy from her hands. "This is SHIELD stuff, not his personal archives. There's no reason for this...to be in...there..." he paused, looking again at the envelope that rested next to his granddaughter's hand. "Fury. Fury, you son of a-"

"Can we give it to Maggie?"

"Who's Maggie?"

"The new baby," she replied with a raised brow, surprised that he would ask, "they picked the name for some lady named Margaret Carter. I thought you knew that? Oh, shoot, maybe you did before. I'm sorry."

"That's your dad's old girlfriend."

"Then she must have been a really good person for them to use her name, right? Especially if Mom's okay with it."

"She was a spitfire that's for sure," he grinned, "and Dad seemed to like her. As far as I can remember, yeah, she was pretty cool." Tony's eyes still had yet to leave the envelope, as if it were calling to him to just pick it up and read the letter inside once and for all. Whatever words were held inside, they had to have been really important for Howard Stark to take the time from his busy day of crying over the loss of Steve Rogers to write it. "Crap," Tony grumbled, "okay, fine, just hand me the stupid envelope already."

Brooklyn gave him the best look of skepticism that she could at her gentle age, and took the paper in hand, slowly advancing it towards him just in case he changed his mind at the last second, the speed allowing him that option. When he continued to take it from her, she smiled softly and sat back against the chair to watch him, waiting for him to need her if it came to that. She was young, yes, but she had an unwavering commitment to her grandfather, and whatever he needed, she would provide. She was definitely your daughter, and she wasn't about to let either of you down.

"Okay," Tony sighed, a tremble in its quality, "here we go."