#avengingthunder

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Daughter.

Daughter.

D-a-u-g-h-t-e-r.

He'd never get used to that.

It didn't matter that she technically wasn't his daughter. That's what all the facts said, that's what everything pointed to. She was a good kid, yeah; smart, witty, probably stronger than anyone her age had the right to be, but that didn't dismiss the fact that she was related to him and that he missed out on watching her grow up.

Steve wasn't the fatherly type. He didn't feel like one. But knowing that he'd been comatose while his offspring was raised by someone else was uncomfortable. It wasn't the easiest thought that ever came to his mind because he had something in the world that he knew, something that was around and alive. And he wasn't there for it.

And he thought drinking with Thor would quell his worries. For the time being, anyway. The big guy wasn't bad company at all and Steve didn't really have a lot of options when it came to friends. The Avengers were spread far and thin in a million ways, and while they saved the world with style and whatnot, it was safe to say that he felt like he didn't know any of them very well.

Steve had trouble getting to Thor's hotel, that much he'd admit, but he arrived all the same. With significantly less trouble, he found his way to the bar that the Asgardian had mentioned, slunk up to a stool and heavily sat down to hunch over the counter-top. 

"What can I get you, sir?" asked the bartender. Steve waved him off, smiling politely. "Nothing right now. Just waiting for a friend," Pause. "The big blond guy who speaks in old English."

Oh my, such vulgar magics. These grey faces truly are horrendous beasts.