WARNING: Please don't read it if you don't think you're ready.  It's super heavy.  It's all pain and angst.  It's got death and pain and emotions all over it.  I'm so sad after writing it, but my co-conspirator and I had the flash of ideas and it had to come out.  So, again, please don't read it if you even think it might be too much.  Painful death, guys.  "Broken" now looks like a lightweight story. I'M SERIOUS. I have some lighter stuff in the works, BUT THIS IS NOT ONE OF THEM.

Nick sat across from you, watching you intently with an expression of both sadness and rage, but his eyes were filled with confusion and disbelief.  He was a man torn within himself, for the first time at a complete loss as to what he was going to do.  He sat in silence, having no words for you that could even begin to make sense, but knowing that he needed to hear your story no matter how much it would hurt you both.

He could ask you whatever he wanted; you would tell him everything.  He could do whatever he wanted with you; you deserved any punishment that he could imagine.  You stared back at him with a blank coldness in your eyes, devoid of any emotion.  The person you were was gone now, and it was your own doing.  You looked down at your hands in shame, feeling the cool sting of metal against your wrists under the cuffs that secured them to the tabletop. 

Did they really think you would try to escape?  Where would you go?  What would you do?  There was nothing left for you now.  Your husband wasn't there to help you, and your daughter shouldn't see you like this; she would never understand something that you barely understood yourself.  She would never forgive you. 

"(Y/N)," Nick said with a crack in his normally deep and commanding voice, "you know that we have to talk about this.  I need answers."  Your gaze dropped to the table and for the first time since you were brought in, you felt pain building in your chest and your breathing become shallow.  You had cried out all of your tears, but this pain was different.  It was hatred; and it was directed at yourself. 

"Do what you want, Nick. I'll tell you whatever you want to know," you said quietly, "and when we're done, I want you to set me free."

"(Y/N), you know that I can't-"

"That's not what I mean, Nick," you sighed, looking up to meet his eyes again, "I can't live like this. I need you end it for me, please."

He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath, shaking his head and looking away, visibly uncomfortable with what you were asking.  "I'm gonna act like I didn't just hear that.  You know I can't."  After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he reached out for his tablet and spun it for you to see, but you squeezed your eyes shut as the images only made the pain in your chest intolerable.

"(Y/N), I need you to tell me how you single-handedly defeated the Avengers.  I need to understand how you could take the lives of your friends one by one.  And then," he paused, his voice now so quiet that you strained to hear him, "you need to tell me how I'm supposed to tell your daughter that her daddy is gone. Because of you."

~~~

"Alright, here's the plan," Steve began, leaning against the side of the jet with the team around him, preparing to board for yet another rescue mission.  He was growing more and more frustrated with each of these assignments, feeling always one step behind HYDRA and feeling unsure of his ability to lead.  He outlined the role for each Avenger, and when there were no questions, he turned to you for your approval. 

"Steve, you don't have to do that," you chuckled, "we believe in your ability, stop questioning yourself." 

"At least someone does.  We should have been able to stop them by now, you know?  We're the Avengers, right?  All that 'Earth's mightiest heroes' stuff feels like a joke."

"Honey, stop.  We can't win them all."  You spun around at the sound of laughter growing closer, bending down for your five-year-old daughter to jump into your arms so you could spin her around before handing her off to Steve.

"Daddy, how long will you guys be gone this time?"

"We'll be home tomorrow morning, pumpkin.  You just have a good time with Auntie Maria, okay?" Steve glanced at you with a smirk and a small wink, "she was really looking forward to this." 

You knew he wasn't serious and that Nick had to practically order her to babysit since he was sending the entire team out.  It wasn't exactly her forte to be around kids, but there were very few people that you would trust more with your own child.  "I hear that she loves to paint fingernails and bake cookies," you laughed, knowing you were only making it worse for your friend, but enjoying the thought of it nonetheless.

"Cap, time to go," Tony called out from the pilot seat as the engine began to power up.

You and Steve took turns giving her a kiss goodbye before sending her to stand by Maria so that you could board.  "Bye bye, mommy!  Be careful, daddy!"

"I always am, sweetheart," he said with a small wave, but quickly jogged over to her and gave her one more tight hug, "love you, baby.  I'll be here when you wake up."

~~~

"When we arrived at the base, nothing was different from what we expected.  A few inept guards at the doors, minimum security inside, it seemed like it was going to be an easy hit," you began.  "At first we questioned why you needed the whole team."

"I assume you found out soon enough."

"Obviously," you scoffed, "you never warned us about the enhanced, Nick.  That was a bad call."  You pushed forward in your chair and he reflexively pulled away as if he were scared of what you were going to do.  "I could blame you too, but that doesn't really matter now, does it?"

~~~

You stood next to Steve at the entrance to the lab that held the SHIELD agents you were sent in to rescue, waiting for his signal to break into their system and open the doors for the team's attack.  Tony and Clint were outside, ready to catch any runners, Natasha and Thor were on the doors opposite of you, and Bruce stayed ready at the jet as a back-up, as he always did. 

"On my mark," he whispered into his comm, "three...two...go."

You short circuited their security and opened the doors, rushing in behind Steve with your weapon drawn, seeing Nat and Thor enter a few seconds later.  The agents were bound and gagged in front of you, their backs pushed up against the wall. While the other three held the HYDRA guards still you pushed past Steve and began to untie the hostages, beginning with their commander.  He struggled slightly under your hands, mumbling frantically through the gag.

"Hey, it's okay," you said as you freed his mouth, "we're getting out of here right now."

"Enhanced..." he coughed out, "it's an ambush."

You spun around and called out for Steve, but he was already in the midst of hand-to-hand combat with someone, not in a uniform and looking to be an equal match for his strength as the Captain struggled slightly against him.  Nat and Thor were frozen in place, being held by a woman with glowing eyes and flame red hair, her hands projecting towards them. 

"Stark, we need back-up in here!" you yelled, but before the answer came, you felt a stab in your neck and two hands over your eyes.

~~~

"The rest is hazy, Nick. I remember it all, but it's like a dream.  I know it was me, that it was my actions that...that..." you groaned, your voice fading away.  "I knew exactly how to do it.  I wish it were a dream, but it's a nightmare that I'm never going to wake up from."

~~~

"Open your eyes, (Y/N)!  Open them and listen to me".

Your eyes slowly opened to a haze and a flurry of activity behind you, Steve still struggling against his assailant, but trying to make his way to you.  "(Y/N)!" he called out between hits, but you couldn't respond.  You could only hear the voice of the man next to you; it was the only voice that mattered.  The only voice that made any sense.

The man moved his hands away from your face and stared into your eyes intently, feeling his determination in your soul, unable to fight the intrusion.  'You have your orders, now carry them out', his voice echoed in your mind, 'no, no, stop fighting me, (Y/N).  You will do what you're told'.

A wave of cold filled your body and your mind was clear of everything except your mission.  You looked down at your hands, but they were no longer yours; you had no feeling, no questioning, no denial of the job you were here to do.  Turning towards Natasha and Thor, you grabbed your weapon and slowly made your way to them.  When the SHIELD agents began to scream for you to stop, you quickly and efficiently silenced them without a thought.  Steve's voice was among them, but you would face him soon enough. 

"(Y/N), whatever they've done to you, you need to fight it," Natasha said, looking you in the eye and trying desperately to connect with her best friend.  "They have control of you.  You have to push them out." 

"Hold her still," you said to the woman holding her power over your teammates.  Your eyes lowered to the floor, unable to look at your friend but not understanding why. "Stop looking at me," you commanded, raising your gun towards her.

"This isn't you, (Y/N), don't let them-"

"(Y/N), no!" you heard both Steve and Thor scream as she slumped to the ground, lifeless.  You turned to the Asgardian and watched him try to struggle to free himself, with no success.  "We need back-up in here now," Steve yelled, "Romanoff is down!"

You spun towards Steve, realizing that the back-up he was calling for included Bruce, knowing that taking down the Hulk would be impossible. The only way to stop him would be in his human form.  "Bruce, hold back," you called to him calmly, reaching into your pocket for your phone and quickly blocking his communicator and anyone else but you from contacting him "wait for my signal."

Turning back towards Thor, you pulled your knife from your boot and put your hand on his shoulder, steadying him though he still fought against the powers that had overtaken his freedom.  His eyes were wide with shock but sad as he watched you raise your weapon.

"(Y/N)," he whispered, "I forgive you."

~~~

"He should have told them it was me," you said, shaking your head, "he should have told them to take me out right then, but he didn't".

Nick sighed and rubbed his hand on his cheek, clearly uncomfortable and shaken by the conversation, "you know he would never do that.  No matter how much Steve loved you, he would never order your death."

"Then he was an idiot," you growled, slamming your chained hands against the steel of the table. "Dammit, Steve," you whispered to yourself, "you had one job.  Protect the team."

"He never thought it would be from you, (Y/N).  You can't expect that he would be thinking rationally."

Several minutes passed as you ran the events through your mind, struggling with the vivid images that you had seen with your own eyes.  Events that took place at your own doing, despite it being against your will. There was nothing that Nick or anyone could ever say that would absolve you from what you had done.

"I met Clint at the door," you began again, "he never saw it coming."  You shut your eyes and wished for tears, hoping that they would make you feel at least human again, but none came.  "Tony was a bit more difficult."

~~~

Steve was now holding two HYDRA guards and an enhanced at bay, struggling to finish them so that he could stop you and get the real you back before you could do any more.  Your directions were to save him for last; despite each window of opportunity given to stop him, you held back to comply with your directive. 

"I need the shield," you said to the men fighting him, waiting patiently and emotionlessly for someone to retrieve it for you while watching the battle.

"(Y/N)," Steve panted, "please stop.  Please.  You know this isn't you...you know that.  They're in your head.  Stop...for me. For our daughter."

A searing pain shot through your mind at his words.  You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, unable to make it stop.  When you opened your eyes, you gasped at the sight of your fallen teammates, looking at Steve in horror.  You opened your mouth to speak, but your mind filled with the same voice that led you to this moment.  'Finish the plan, (Y/N).  You will comply'.

Any emotions that you had felt were quickly washed away and your face went blank, again waiting for the shield to be given to you.  When it didn't happen fast enough for your liking, and when you heard Tony approaching, you waited for Steve to be pinned against the wall before moving in and ripping it from his arm.  "I said, I need this, Captain".

"Stark, it's her!" he yelled out with a struggled voice, "it's (Y/N)! They're controlling her!"

"Jesus," he whispered as he surveyed the scene in front of him, "(Y/N), don't make me do this.  Just put that down."

You charged forward with the shield in front of you, easily deflecting each shot of his repulsors.  "I'm sorry, Tony.  I'll try to make it quick."  With each blast you were knocked back on your footing slightly, but you pushed forward, thinking of how you would stop this man in the metal suit.  Shooting him wasn't an option, hand-to-hand would do nothing, your knife was worthless, so what would you be able to do against him?

And then it became clear.

Raising the shield to center yourself, you charged forward and knocked him back into the wall, desperately gripping and tearing away the power source in his chest.  The suit immediately powered down.  He reached up to remove his helmet but you responded and held his hands away, keeping him trapped inside without an oxygen supply to keep him alive.

"The one flaw in your suit. It's air-tight."

~~~

"After Tony..." you sighed with a shaky breath, "after Tony, I hurried to the jet, knowing that Bruce would have to be getting nervous.  I knew that if he transformed into the Hulk, I wouldn't stand a chance, and if I didn't finish my mission, then I would be killed.  There were no thoughts in my head about right or wrong, Nick.  No thoughts about the people I was hurting."

Fury didn't say anything in response, sitting perfectly still and completely enthralled in what you were telling him.  His head nodded slightly towards you, commanding you to continue. 

"The only way to overtake Doctor Banner was to catch him off guard.  He couldn't know that I was there."  Clearing your throat, you shifted slightly in your chair when the vision of Bruce lying at your feet flashed through your mind.  "And he never did."

"So, that leaves only Steve."

"Don't make me tell you this, Nick."

"You know that I don't have a choice, (Y/N).  The only way to clear you is if I know everything."

Your head snapped up and looked at him in complete shock, "I don't want to be cleared of this, Nick! I don't want to be forgiven, don't you understand that?  I cannot live with this.  I can't live with the looks on my friends' faces when they realized what I was doing. Those images will haunt me forever! I can't be a mother now!  I can't look at my daughter everyday and see him!"

Nick leaned forward, for the first time putting his hand on yours, knowing that you couldn't pull it away. "(Y/N), you listen to me.  I will help you.  And I will help her.  No, it will never be okay, and I know that.  But she cannot lose you both."

"She already has, Nick."

~~~ 

When you returned to the lab, Steve was beginning to show signs of his struggle.  You pointed to the woman with the red hair and directed her towards him, commanding her to hold him in place.  He fought it at first, but when he couldn't free himself, he appeared to give in and waited for you to approach him.

"(Y/N)," he panted, "I'm sorry."

"Why would you be sorry?"

"I'm sorry that I didn't protect you," he replied quietly, "I'm sorry that I failed you.  And her. But it's okay, sweetheart; they'll kill you if you don't finish this, and I can't let that happen."

You paused for a moment, standing silently and regarding him, his words stirring something inside you, but it was unrecognizable. "I was told to save you for last. Do you know why?"

"Yes.  Because I love you, and it would hurt you the most."

"But I don't feel anything."  Once again, you removed your blade and stepped towards him, now standing close enough that your bodies almost touched.  You lifted your chin to look up at him, studying his face for recognition, hoping for something, but nothing came.  "Do I love you?"

"Very much," he whispered.

You put the knife to his chest, and he sucked in a harsh breath, preparing himself for his end.  "How can you be sure?"  You pushed forward as he looked at you, his expression never changing even with the pain that coursed through him now. 

With the last of his strength, he struggled against the force that was holding him and leaned forward to press his lips to yours for the last time.  You didn't resist, allowing the sensation to wash over you, and allowing the moment to become real.  This is why he was last; they knew he could break you free of their hold over you. 

"Steve?"  you gasped, dropping your hands and pulling away in terror, watching him slump to the ground as the woman released him.  "No!  Steve?" Your hands grabbed him frantically, moving over him as you looked for any sign of life but finding none.  You dropped to your knees and pulled him to you, finally feeling the intense pain of loss that had been kept from you as each of your friends were taken by your own hand.

You looked around the room and saw them, your fallen team, the silenced SHIELD agents, and the rage inside of you began to grow.  You were the only one left standing, and you would be the one to finish the mission even if it meant the end of you as well.  Your vision began to blur and became a red haze as your heart raced, feeling an anger like you had never known before. 

Gently laying Steve on the ground, your tears continued to fall on his skin; you searched through his belt packs for anything you could use, then gathered as many guns as you could carry.  The team had taken out the HYDRA vehicles when you arrived, so they had no where to run.  They had nowhere to hide from your rage that would never be quieted until every last member of HYDRA was gone.

"Alright, once and for all," you said to yourself as you armed your weapons.  "Captain's orders."

~~~

"It wasn't your fault, mommy."

Your head snapped up from the table, having had fallen asleep after Nick left you about an hour ago to review the information you had given him.  Tears immediately filled your vision and you recoiled back from her, ashamed of the person you were now.  Her hands reached up and took the chains into them, fumbling with a small key until you were released from their hold.

"Baby, don't," you gasped, "don't do that."

"Uncle Nick told me to."

The shaking breaths from your chest made you lightheaded, seeing her in front of you, and seeing exactly what you told Nick that you had feared; you saw Steve.  "I'm sorry, baby.  I'm so sorry," you sobbed, "but it's okay, I understand if you can't be around me anymore.  I promise, it's okay."

The little girl jumped down from her chair and rounded the table, standing next to you so she could put her hands on your lap with her fingernails proudly displayed, "we painted them to match yours.  Auntie Maria complained the whole time, but I told her they had to be the same."

You took a deep breath and sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes, "they look perfect," you said with a weak smile that had no feeling other than pain behind it.  "Maybe we should see if you can stay with her a little longer?"

"No," she whined with a small stomp of her foot, "I'm going home with you.  I need to make you smile again.  Daddy said I was the only one in the whole world who knew how to do that every time you were sad."

"He did, huh?" Reaching down to pick her up, she landed in your lap and turned to hug you with her small chin on your shoulder. "He was a very smart guy, wasn't he?"

"It wasn't your fault, mommy," she whispered again.  She startled and pulled away when Nick entered the room, moving to take her hand and lead her out and to Maria.  He slowly closed the door and sat next to you, holding your gaze and waiting for you to argue with his decision.

"What if the roles were reversed?  What if it were Steve sitting here?" he asked.  "What would you want me to do with him?"

"He would never let himself be-"

"No," he interrupted, "that's not what I asked.  What would you want me to do with him?"

"I know what you're trying to do, Nick," you sighed, leaning back in your chair, defeated.  "I know what you want me to say.  Do you want me to placate you?  Say that someday I'll forgive myself?  Because I can say it, but I'll never believe it."

"You will," he said, standing to take your hand and pull you up to him, into a hug that you would never think could come from a man like Nick Fury.  "Because they did."

Part 2

The door burst open with a force that shocked even Nick, startling him enough to not realize right away that Bucky had grabbed you and pulled you from his grip. When he slammed you against the wall you didn't fight back; you barely even responded to him in a sharp contrast to the rage the he directed at you.

"Make me understand!" he screamed at you, his face only mere inches from yours.

You dropped your gaze to the floor so that you wouldn't have to see the pain in his eyes, knowing that it would be the last straw to finally break you. "I can't..." you whispered.

His metal hand shot up and grabbed your chin, thrusting it up harshly to force you to look at him, banging the back of your head sharply against the wall. His eyes were dark and cold when he looked back, but you could see the pain behind them. The last time you had seen him this way, he had killed a man with only his bare hands, and you almost welcomed it now. Nick knew better than to interfere so he watched and waited, almost equally eager to hear your answer.

"(Y/N), tell me how! Tell me how you could look into his eyes and push that knife into his chest. Even with them in your head, I don't understand how." Bucky was seeing the images in his mind as he spoke, and his voice began to crack. His grip on you was so strong that it was almost unbearably painful, and you knew the marks left behind would last for months, but they were nothing compared to what you were living with inside. In that moment, you knew exactly how he felt. He stared into your eyes for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice began to fail him.

"Make me understand," Bucky pleaded, his grip loosening slightly. His chest began to heave with uneven breaths and his throat began to tighten. He hadn't cried yet, but connecting with you now made it real. His best friend was gone, and this time he wasn't coming back. His best friend was gone and it was because of you; someone that he had come to love almost as much as Steve had.

His hands released you and slid down your sides until he had fallen to his knees at your feet, his arms tightly hugging your legs with his head resting against them. You had never heard him cry so openly as he was now, and it tore you apart. Your breathing began to match his as you pressed yourself back against the wall for stability, willing your legs to hold you though they threatened to collapse at any moment. You squeezed your eyes shut to try to hold the tears in, but it was a worthless fight; they spilled down your cheeks and onto Bucky's skin below.

"Make me understand, (Y/N)," he pleaded again, now in nothing more than a desperate whisper.

"Buck..." you gasped, "I can't. I don't even understand."

After a few agonizing minutes this way, and when his sobs began to subside, Bucky slowly pulled himself up and wiped the tears from his face. He wouldn't look at you again, and you didn't blame him. It would be months before you could look at yourself in the mirror, before you could see yourself without being filled with shame and anger.

"Where is she?"

Nick cleared his throat and sniffled quietly, recovering from his own unexpected emotions. "She's with Maria."

Bucky nodded his head definitively and turned away from you, quickly making his way from the room.  He stopped to talk quietly to Fury as he passed, who silently agreed to whatever he had said.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" you asked cautiously, still holding your position against the wall.

"Fulfilling a promise." Without saying anything further he exited, but Nick stayed behind to position himself between you and the door. Several minutes later a chill ran through your body when you heard your daughter screaming for you, though you couldn't bring yourself to respond. You knew that Bucky was right; he needed to take control when you couldn't.

"You're not my daddy! I want to go home with mommy!"

"Don't move, (Y/N)," Nick warned quietly. "He's doing this for you as much as for her."

You looked up just in time to see Bucky pass by with your daughter tightly held against his chest. Her arms and legs were flailing and kicking at him, and her face was deep red with anger as she continued to scream for you. Only now at the sight of her did you want to move. You didn't know when you would see her again, but you forced yourself to believe that with Bucky was where she needed to be. That anywhere other than with you was where she needed to be.

"No, Nick," you sighed, "he's doing this for Steve."

~~~

With Bucky at the tower with your daughter you couldn't return there right away, so Nick took an idea that must have been a sick and sadistic joke as far as you were concerned and put you up in the space that used to be Steve's apartment. Once he moved into the tower it had become nothing more than a storage space, filled with his memorabilia and items that didn't fit into your shared living quarters.

The sound of the key sliding into the lock echoed in your head, and the turning of the tumblers within it was almost deafening to you. You didn't want to be here, but it was where you were ordered to go. You didn't attend the funerals for your team because it would be too painful and because you weren't ready to face the judging eyes of the mourners that would surround you. This now felt like a punishment from Nick for not being there, forcing you into your own private service for Steve.

The door opened with the groan of old hinges and the creak of aging wood, a reminder that Steve lived there because of the building's history and how it reminded him of his old place in Brooklyn. You stepped inside and looked at the boxes and furniture scattered around, covered in dusty drapes, with barely any light entering through the heavy curtains that were pulled tightly closed.

You pushed the door shut slowly behind you and set your suitcase down without care to its contents, grabbing the large cover from the couch and throwing it to the ground in a haze of dust. A painful gasp clutched your chest when you saw one of Steve's old blankets folded neatly in the corner as if it had been placed there for you, knowing you would be here to need it someday. You cautiously unfolded it and wrapped it around you, crumbling onto the couch at the realization that it somehow still smelled like him.

After countless days without sleep, you were finally able to cry yourself out, knowing that you were just waiting for him to be there with you. Time had stopped now that you connected with him again, and you didn't care if you never moved from this spot. All you wanted was this moment.

~~~

"(Y/N)?"

You opened one eye slowly at the sound of knocking, but you closed it again just as quickly and refused to acknowledge the man on the other side of the door. Despite ignoring him, the knocking only grew louder.

"(Y/N), come on. Just open the door, alright?"

"Go away, Sam."

"I can't do that, sweetheart. Let me in."

Wrapping the blanket around you and taking a deep breath of its scent as if it would give you strength to have Steve with you, you stood hesitantly and opened the door just enough to peek out. "What do you want, Sam?"

Not happy with your hesitance to let him in, Sam shoved the door open firmly, pushing you back a few steps with it. "It's been almost a week. I'm here to pull you out of this. I don't know what the hell Fury was thinking putting you in here," he paused, waving his hand around the room, "but it's just damn cruel. You're coming home."

"No, Sam, I'm not," you groaned, sitting back down on the couch with the blanket pulled even tighter around you than before. "That's not my home anymore. Now go away."

"What? Do you think that punishing yourself is doing you any good? Do you think you deserve this?" His eyes widened slightly when he realized that was exactly what was happening, and that you had accepted the isolation that Fury had put you into. "(Y/N), it wasn't your fault. I've read the reports. You weren't in control so stop punishing yourself."

"Hey, here's an idea," you huffed, "how about you don't talk to me about things you don't understand, okay? Have you talked to Bucky? If he knew that you were here-"

"How the hell do you think I found out where you were?"

Your head snapped up at the idea that Bucky was behind getting you to come back to the tower, when only days before he was determined to keep you from it and from your own child. What could make him change his mind so quickly that he would have Sam coming to collect you?

"Sam, what happened?"

"I don't know what you mean," he mumbled, glancing away for a second before turning away to pick up your suitcase from where you had dropped it when you first arrived.

"Sam?" you pressed, now standing up to step closer to him. You pulled the blanket away and dropped it on the couch, crossing your arms over your chest. "Sam, is she okay?"

A small smile crossed his lips, though when he turned to face you it had all but disappeared. "Let's just say that Bucky isn't exactly adapting to his godfather role quite like he had hoped." Sam looked away again to let out a chuckle that you could only describe as merciless. "He's been trying to scrub the words 'I hate you' from his metal arm for two days now."

"Oh, shit," you gasped, clasping your hand over your mouth in shock and embarrassment. "She didn't."

"She needs her mother, (Y/N)."

He grabbed the handle of your suitcase and held out his hand for you to take with an almost pleading look in his eye. You turned to grab the blanket from the couch but paused, considering what it would mean if you took it with you. It had been here exactly when you needed it; he had been here when you needed him. You lifted it to your face and took in one final breath, memorizing the scent and how it made you feel. It needed to stay here with the rest of Steve's memories if you would ever find the strength to move forward, for both you and your daughter. Even for Bucky and Sam.

"Goodbye, Steve," you whispered into the soft cloth that filled your senses, folding it gently and replacing it where you had found it, knowing it would be there should you need it again.

~~~

I can do this.

Your hand rested on the door with hesitancy as you steeled your resolve to push it open. Sam waited patiently behind you so that you wouldn't try for an opportunity to run. It was already a sensory overload just being there, filling you with memories of those last moments with your team before you left for the mission that changed you forever. Each of their faces filled your mind, and their voices sounded like they were right there with you; the stinging pain in your heart told you otherwise.

"You got this, (Y/N)," Sam said, trying to be reassuring. "And if not, I'm right here, okay?"

The second that the door cracked open you heard the squealing screams of your daughter filling the tower, followed by the frustrated yells of Bucky trying to chase her. That same dark laugh came from Sam as he walked behind you and it became immediately clear that he had been absolutely no help to Bucky, and likely enjoyed seeing him struggle just a bit too much.

"Mommy!"

"Hey, baby," you said with a smile, trying to be strong for her when all you wanted to do was break down and curl up into darkness anywhere that she couldn't see. "Oh, I've missed you," you mumbled into her hair as she hugged you tightly with her arms around your neck. "But I've heard that you were a little bit naughty."

"Uncle James is mean. He's being a bully and I don't like it."

"He's not mean," you sighed, pulling her back to see her expression, "he was very nice to take care of you while I was gone."

"Mmm hmm," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "Are staying home now?"

You looked back at Sam, who gave you a supportive nod as you set her down and glanced around the tower to find Bucky. Even though the sight of the building still terrified you, and you knew that at every turn you would be hit with memories of your team and of Steve, you also knew that you had to face each and every one of them. You had to run towards them rather than away. "I'm home."

"Good, because I need to know how to get permanent marker off of my arm," Bucky said as he approached with a hesitant grin at the sight of you. "I don't have any sleeves that fit over this, you know that."

"Hi, Buck." You sucked in a deep breath when you felt both of Sam's hands rest on your shoulders and give a small squeeze. "Acetone."

"What?"

"Acetone. It should get the marker off."

He laughed and threw his hands in the air at the realization that he could've just looked that information up days ago. "See, if FRIDAY would just respond to me then I could have avoided days of being stuck in the tower."

"She won't respond? What happened to her?"

Sam released you and gave Bucky a warning glance over your shoulder, but he didn't seem to see it. "Ever since Tony's been gone she won't talk. And Banner isn't here to just know this...stuff..." he trailed away, closing his eyes and turning away from you to hide his remorse. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, don't do that, Buck. We can talk about them. We should talk about them, okay?"

"Okay," he relented, finally stepping towards you to bring you in for a hug, pressing a kiss to your hair. "I'm sorry for how I acted," he whispered, "Steve would've kicked my ass for that."

Steve would've kicked his ass just for raising his voice, much less throwing you around. "Yeah, that may be true, but don't rule me out so fast, Barnes. You only get a shot like that once."

"Mooooom! I'm hungry!"

"Please tell me that you've fed her more than pizza rolls and pop tarts," you sighed, pulling away from him and grabbing your suitcase from Sam to make your way towards the kitchen. The two men followed quickly behind, and you could hear their stomachs growling at the idea that you might be cooking something actually homemade.

"Okay, so maybe we all needed Mom to come home," Sam laughed, "Uncle James can't cook and the fire department warned us that they aren't gonna come back again."