A/N: Because my brain is stupid and woke me up at 2 in the morning because apparently I'm a lot more excited about this movie than I thought I was. Written before I saw the movie, so any inaccuracies are my mistake. Based on all the released clips and trailers.

It had been a week.

A long, grueling week, full of dodging reporters at every turn and meeting with every SHIELD authority figure imaginable.

Steve Rogers – Captain freakin America – wanted another debrief by oh-eight hundred tomorrow morning. He'd have to get up early.

He was exhausted.

But he couldn't sleep.

Not yet.

Not until he saw her.

Scott did his best to open the door to Cassie's room as quietly as possible, only to discover it to be a lost cause; the door squeaked obnoxiously despite his efforts, and he cringed terribly, hoping against hope that it hadn't woken her up…

It didn't, because she was already awake, sitting at the mini desk and chair Stark apparently thought necessary for his daughter's room, crayon in hand and coloring book in front of her, looking up in guilt and shock at his noisy entrance. "Daddy!"

"You're supposed to be in bed," he said stupidly, then wished he could viciously kick himself at Cassie's crestfallen expression. 'Nice one, daddy.'

"I'm sorry," she muttered, scuffing her crayon against the page in front of her, purposely going outside the lines, "I just… I can't sleep."

And now Scott felt even worse, because he should've noticed, dammit, or at least suspected; after all, he'd been having trouble sleeping too…

Cassie's face, pale and confused and very, very fragile, peeking out from the arms of Yellowjacket's suit to look directly at him.

"Daddy, is that you?"

The sight of his little girl in the arms of that psycho wasn't likely to leave his nightmares alone any time soon.

He'd sworn he would be a better father to her, and he'd nearly gotten her killed. Father of the year material, right here.

Scott blinked hard, brought himself back to the present, to where Cassie was despondently coloring Mulan purple, and thought, 'To hell with this.'

"How about," he started, stepping forward and crouching beside her, gently pulling the crayon from her fingers – so tiny, too tiny, almost gone forever because of him – and setting it to the side so he could easily grab hold of her hand. "We go to bed together? I think we'll both feel better that way, don't you?"

"Yes!" Cassie squeaked, enthusiastically throwing her arms around his neck and making him "Oof!" in surprise. He let the hug last a minute, arms tightening minutely as memories of Cross's masked face beside hers fought their way up out of the darkness, but they couldn't stay there forever; the house was cool due to air conditioning, and even in her warm pajamas his daughter was shivering. Probably not entirely from the cold, but he wasn't ready to go down that rabbit hole yet.

So, with many an exaggerated groan, he pulled her up with him as he stood, letting her wrap her legs around his waist. "You're heavy," he complained, and had to bite his lip when she giggled right next to his ear.

He'd almost lost this, this sweet little child that had his eyes and his nose and enough dimples to kill a good man, first during the divorce and then again to an insane scientist who'd gotten in too deep with the experiments he shouldn't have been conducting.

That was not going to fly any longer. No sir.

Scott took a deep breath, making sure to keep his grip around Cassie as light and comforting as possible as he headed for his bedroom further down the hall, his footsteps squeaking noticeably due to the extra weight.

He tried to hurry, make sure none of the other Avengers were awake and wandering, and luckily they didn't run into anyone on their trek. When they reached his room, he silently thanked Stark for giving his room automatic doors so he wouldn't have to set Cassie down as he entered.

He plopped her on the bed, and she eagerly burrowed under the covers like a mole or an ant. 'Oh, God, I'm the dad with the lame jokes,' Scott silently despaired, shaking his head as he sat and got under the covers too, letting Cassie shift around experimentally until a head of brown hair popped out of the blankets.

"Your bed is super big," she told him with all the seriousness in the world, and he nodded gravely, as if this were a great secret.

Grinning her little crooked grin, Cassie shuffled closer to him, small hands pressing against his chest as she snuggled, and he wrapped both arms around her with a content sigh.

Bedtime snuggling was one of the things he missed most when he was in prison. Not that he ever mentioned it to the guys, of course; this was something between him and Cassie alone, and he always felt a stab of guilt and petty jealousy at the thought of Maggie's new husband cuddling her like this.

"Daddy?" her muffled voice asked.

"Hmm?" he opened his eyes regretfully, already half-asleep.

"Bedtime story?" she asked, and he tried not to sigh too loudly.

"Sure thing, peanut," Scott mumbled, before yawning loudly and blinking profusely in an attempt to stay awake.

Crap.

What made a good bedtime story?

What did kids even like these days?

Cassie loved princesses, especially the ones that fell within the fairy variety, but Scott had absolutely no idea how he could ever pull off a good fairy princess adventure story at this hour.

Crap, crap, crap-

Oh. Ah-ha.

"I've got a good one tonight," he bragged, smiling as he felt Cassie shift around again so she could look up at him. "You'll love it. Once upon a time-"

"You gotta use your story-telling voice," she interrupted, raising her eyebrows at him when he gave her a confused look. "You know. Your story-telling voice. You gotta use it."

Scott was confused, casting about in his memory for what she was talking about. There it was; three and a half years ago, back before prison again, him reading to her aloud from a book with a dramatic voice and exaggerated hand movements that made her laugh out loud.

"Oh right," he said dumbly, and she stuck her tongue out at him which he oh-so-maturely returned in kind.

"Anyway. Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a thief-"

"Like you?" she interrupted again, and only smiled innocently when he mock glared at her.

"I'm not a thief anymore, peanut, but yes. Like me, I suppose. This thief decided one night to steal from the richest man in the land, a crazy old wizard who hid in the ground. He went to steal the wizard's money-"

an ancient safe, tumblers easy to pick and alarms simple to disable, way too easy for this sort of job

"-but ended up finding even more. You see, the thief didn't know the wizard was a smart old coot, so he didn't realize just what he was taking. When he snuck away, the thief accidentally took one of the wizard's magical potions with him-"

the suit, garish and clunky at first sight, the helmet gleaming silver in the artificial light

"-and decided to keep it for himself. Of course, being the clueless thief that he was, he drank it without thinking-"

the silent pop-click of the button under his thumb

"-and discovered it gave him great magical powers-"

the ground disappearing underneath his feet as he fell through the air, back eventually thudding against the filthy cheap porcelain of the bathtub, driving the breath from his lungs

"-which he of course had no idea how to use. Luckily, before he could hurt himself, a valiant knight in service of the wizard found the thief and said, 'Shall I teach you the potion's secrets?'"

Hope van Dyne, smirking at him with her lovely face, eyes sparkling as she took in his comically collapsed form

"The thief eventually accepted her aide, after the knight knocked some sense into him."

his face hurts and his eyes are stinging and he's pretty sure his nose is bleeding, but she's smirking at him again and that's a fucking challenge

"And so the thief learned to use his great power, and he decided to use it to save people-"

"I think we should call the Avengers." He doesn't want this, he's not superhero material, but the sadness in Hank's eyes and disappointment in Hope's and the memory of her excited little face is enough to convince him otherwise

"-and with the knight and the wizard's help he became known as the great hero of the land who protected all who required his help. But, with news of a hero, came the rise of a villain."

Darren Cross, wearing the Yellowjacket suit, all glistening metal and menacing pointed stingers, with lasers that were most certainly not set on stun

It was getting harder to talk when his teeth ground together at the memory of the man's smug face and wild eyes. "This mighty foe grew jealous of the wizard's rise to fame as the man who created a legend, and sought to destroy the hero once and for all."

"Did the thief beat him?" asked a hushed Cassie, wide-eyed and staring at her father in that scarily piercing comprehension all young children seemed to have. "Did the hero win?"

Scott paused, looked at his little girl again; her round little face and small button nose, her lovely brown eyes and tangled brown hair, her beautifully crooked teeth and tiny baby cheeks.

"Yes," he whispered, suddenly hoarse. He couldn't manage the story-telling voice this close to tears. "But he almost lost the one thing he most cared about in all the world."

Cassie blinked up at him solemnly, too tiny fingers twisting into his shirt sleeve.

"But the thief saved the day," she said, and smiled her perfectly heart-breaking little smile, "Just like a real hero would, right?"

Scott could feel his eyes watering; he didn't even try to hold back the tears as he crushed Cassie to his chest.

"Yeah," he croaked, "And he and his princess lived happily ever after."

"The End."

A/N: I AM SUPER FLIPPING EMOTIONAL? I DON'T KNOW WHY? THE MOVIE HASN'T EVEN COME OUT YET AND SCOTT AND CASSIE ARE ALREADY KILLING ME WITH FEELS? I DON'T EVEN KNOW, MAN?!
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you guys think!
~Persephone