Steve Rogers was a light sleeper. Years of battlefield instincts and early morning runs had trained him well, but there was something about the tiny, hesitant tug on his blanket that pulled him from sleep faster than any alarm ever could.

Blinking into the dim glow of the nightlight across the room, he turned his head just in time to see a small figure standing beside the bed, clutching a well-loved stuffed bunny. Their daughter, Rosie, her blonde curls wild from sleep, her lower lip trembling.

“Daddy?” Her voice was small, uncertain.

Steve sat up immediately, concern wiping away the last remnants of sleep. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he murmured, careful not to wake you just yet.

“I had a bad dream,” she whispered, shifting her bunny higher in her arms. “Can I stay with you and Mommy?”

Steve’s heart ached at the sight of her wide blue eyes, the same shade as his own, shimmering in the faint light. He didn’t hesitate.

“Of course, sweetheart. C’mon up,” he said, already shifting back to make room. He reached out, effortlessly lifting her into the bed, and she immediately snuggled in between him and you.

As soon as she nestled against his chest, her tiny fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, Steve felt her trembling start to ease. He pulled the blanket up over her small frame, rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back.

You stirred beside them, your voice soft and drowsy. “Rosie?”

“She had a nightmare,” Steve murmured, his voice low, soothing.

You reached out instinctively, brushing back your daughter’s curls and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re safe, baby,” you whispered.

Rosie let out a tiny, content sigh, already beginning to relax between the two of you. Steve smiled in the darkness, feeling the warmth of your family tucked close, safe.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured, placing a kiss atop her curls. “We’ve got you.”

Rosie hummed softly in response, her breathing evening out as sleep found her once more, safe in the arms of the two people who loved her most.