"Papa?"

"Yeah, buddy, I'm right here," Tony sighed in immense relief, jumping up from the recliner next to Anthony's bed. He had been sitting at his side for hours, in complete silence as he slept, and his little voice was the greatest sound that he could hear and it immediately calmed him. "You scared me, pal. How do you feel?"

"I'm tired, but I think I'm okay. Where's Mom and Dad?" The boy pushed himself up onto his elbows to look around the room, seeing that he was in his own bed at the compound and not in a hospital bed like he thought he would be.

"Well," Tony sighed, giving Anthony's leg a little tap for him to slide over, allowing him to sit on the edge of the bed, "your mom is in the infirmary, still asleep. Your dad is in a room where he can't hurt himself or anyone else, but Thor is keeping him company."

"And Uncle James?"

"He's with your mom, helping us watch over her."

"You mean that he's ready to fight her if she wakes up and is still one of them, don't you?"

"Yes," he answered straight away; there was no point in lying to him now, after everything. This kid was too smart, and would pick up on his mood too readily to even bother trying.

Anthony took a deep breath and dropped himself back down onto his pillow, closing his eyes again for a long time while Tony sat quietly and waited. "Why isn't she awake yet?" he finally asked quietly, keeping his eyes closed when he felt tears building behind his lids. "It's because of me, isn't it?"

"No, Ant, is not," Tony urged, much more animated now, "it's not your fault at all, okay? You did the right thing by stopping her so we could give her the help she needs. You did the right thing, I promise."

"Okay," he sniffled softly, "then what are you gonna do with Dad? Can I see him?"

"I don't think-"

"I just want to see."

Tony sat and looked at his equally stubborn little namesake for a few seconds as he considered what the worst thing to happen could be, talking himself out of his own resolve to keep the kid away from such an angry version of his father. With a quiet groan at his own weakness to say no, Tony stood slowly and pulled the blanket back for Anthony to join him. He held out a supportive hand which the boy took readily, finding that he was still a little wobbly on his feet with the fatigue that had a heavy grip on his muscles.

"Only for a few minutes then," he offered. Seeing that Anthony was unsteady as he walked to the door, Tony swooped his grandson up in his arms and helped him to crawl onto his back, smiling to himself when he heard the beautiful sound of the boy's laughter and felt the tight grip of tiny arms around his neck.

"Grandpa?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"We're gonna be okay."

~~~

"Steve, please, sit down," Thor urged his friend, standing outside of the cell that held him. "Your determination to find a way out has proven to be wasted to this point, and that outcome will not change. You had a hand in building this room, so I'm certain that it can hold you."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm not. I was merely offering a suggestion so that you might stop banging your fists against the glass."

"Why?" Steve sneered, rushing forward to hit the barrier between them, just as Thor had tried to stop. "Does it bother you? Does it scare you that I might actually break through?"

"I am not afraid of you, Steve. Even as the person you are now...this false representation of my friend...I have no fear."

"Give it time," he smiled darkly, but his eyes remained cold and emotionless. The door to the hallway in the detention area opened slowly, catching his attention and drawing his eyes immediately to the little boy who was being carried in on Tony's shoulders. "Not this one again?"

"Hey, Cap," Tony greeted, "I brought a visitor, so try to play nice." He shut the door hesitantly even though he knew that Steve couldn't get out to attack them in any way, but with the way his mind had been playing out so many terrible scenarios since they returned home, he wasn't taking any chances for them to come true. He approached the glass slowly and knelt down, allowing Anthony to release his hold and drop onto his feet next to him.

"Hi, Daddy."

Steve stood statuesque and unfazed, staring at his son like he couldn't care less about him or what he wanted. There was no true recognition in his eyes, his arms folded tightly across his chest to close himself off, but Anthony wasn't easily giving up.

"They said that Mom's still asleep, but that Uncle James is with her. I thought you might want to know."

"I don't."

"Have Grant and Brooklyn been here to see you?"

"No."

"Okay," he answered softly, lowering his gaze to his feet when he didn't know what else to say. The man in front of him wasn't his father on the inside, he knew that with all of his heart, but the curt words and cold actions still stung at him. "Dad..."

"Stop calling me that."

"Dad," Anthony pushed on, putting on a brave face to look Steve in the eye and to take a few steps closer, "I'm going to find you."

"Anthony," Tony broke in, "what are you doing?"

"Dad, listen to me," he continued without acknowledging Tony, "put your hand on the glass. FRIDAY, I need Auntie Wanda now."

"No, you step back," Tony replied sternly, "you said you only wanted to see him."

"I see him. I see my dad. I can't leave and not try. I almost reached Mom and I can reach him too. If Wanda helps me, I know it will work."

Steve remained motionless as he listened to the group argue, his mind growing more confused and muddled by what it was that they wanted to do with him. This kid insisted that he was his dad, but he had no recollection of him and was sure that he was lying to find a weakness. He knelt down to get to the same height, still looking Anthony straight on but refusing to raise his hand as instructed.

"Leave me alone," Steve replied flatly, "and don't ever come back in here. This is no place for a kid, and I really don't want to hurt you."

"You can't hurt me any more than this is, Dad."

Steve didn't flinch at all when the hallway door burst open and Wanda rushed in, with Vision right behind her, both of them looking unsure of why they were there. "Anthony," she panted, catching her breath, "what are you doing here?"

The boy turned to her with his hand outstretched, the other solidly against the glass wall in front of Steve. He was hoping that she would understand and be willing to help, because she was the only one who shared in this ability of reaching someone's mind, but he couldn't do it alone. "Will you help me? I know where to look now." When she nodded and took her place next to him, despite the continued grumbling from Tony, he turned back to Steve with one last attempt at compliance. "Please, Dad. You have nothing to lose, right?"

"Fine," he growled, slamming his hand up onto the glass, "but when this little game proves nothing, you'll get the hell outta here and never come back. I'm just doing this to shut you up once and for all." He pushed just a little closer, so that his face was right next to Anthony's, with his eyes full of anger and his teeth bared. "And if you don't stay away like I said, then I'm gonna shut you up for good."

~~~

Bruce had been staring at the monitors over your head for so long that the numbers began to jumble together and the waves of your heartbeat began to dance and make no sense to him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to relieve the sting of fatigue, but all that did was make it worse and more apparent as to how long it had been since he slept. With a weary hand, he grabbed his cup of coffee and downed the now-cold liquid with a grimace, thankful for the caffeine but not sure if it was enough to be worth drinking something that vile.

"Here," Scott approached, a refreshed cup in his hand, "I guarantee that this is better than the sludge you just choked down."

Responding with an eagerness that Scott couldn't help but laugh at, Bruce took the cup in both hands and drank it with a satisfied moan in his throat at the soothing heat and the steam that fogged his glasses. Something so simple as a fresh cup of coffee was suddenly the miracle cure for tired eyes and a sluggish brain; he set the empty cup on his workstation with a renewed energy and turned back to his readings.

"You're a lifesaver, Lang."

"Hmm," Scott murmured, "I wish. That's you, big guy."

T'Challa had been standing at your side, opposite of Bucky for the last hour, watching you in complete silence and contemplation, so much so that when Scott had tried to talk to him about you, it was as if the king had no idea that he was even there. "I might have an idea," he finally said softly, running his hand over yours, "but it won't be well received."

"I think we'll take anything at this point," Bucky replied.

"I would like to take the three of you to Wakanda. We have advanced medical technology and breakthroughs that might be of use to remove the imprints that Hydra left behind."

Bruce had perked up at the sound of T'Challa's voice being added to the mix in the room, taking the opportunity to get a break and step up next to him to listen. "Let's hear it."

"The three of them are in a very vulnerable state, as we saw at the school. It took only the matter of a minute to activate that side of their minds, and it could happen again at any time."

"Not if people can shut the hell up," Bucky scoffed, "and with Schmidt dead I can't imagine that too many others are willing to say those ten words again any time soon."

"Are we willing to take that chance?" the king asked plainly, looking to each of the two men for an answer, but none came. "If Steve or (Y/N) were truly with us right now, would they be willing to chance that with their children while in their care? I can assuage those fears, and those that you carry as well."

"I don't have any..." Bucky stopped, hearing a shift in your breathing before the monitors had a chance to catch it. "Hey, doc," he jumped, "something's happening. Is she waking up?" He took your hands in his and held tight, preparing himself for a fight when not knowing who you would wake to be. "Hey, grab her legs," he nodded to T'Challa, who readily followed the command.

"Yep, looks like she is," Bruce confirmed, standing at the foot of your bed, just as ready to restrain you as they were. "Let up just a bit until we know who we're dealing with."

You heard a small voice yelling in your mind, but it was merely an echo that you couldn't place, and it was saying something that you couldn't quite make out. You tried to focus on the sound, but it only got farther away and harder to hear the more you sought it out. As your own consciousness fought its way past the haze and confusion that was left behind, the voice dwindled out to nothing, and a panic washed over you without it. It felt as if a part of you had been torn away, even though you already felt anything but whole.

"Anthony!" you called out, throwing Bucky and T'Challa from their hold as you bolted up from your slumber. "Where is he?" you panted, trying to push against their renewed hold on you. "Where's Anthony? He was trying to find...he was crying...and I can't hear him anymore..."

"Hey, (Y/N), calm down," Bucky replied quietly, taking your face in his hands to turn you to look at him, "Anthony's okay. The kids are all okay, they're here and they're fine. You're safe, and we're all here with you."

"No, Buck, he's not..." you pressed, "he's trying...he's trying to find Steve...I can't hear him anymore."

"What does she mean?" T'Challa asked quietly, turning to Bruce. "She can hear his mind?"

Bruce shook his head, confused as he ran through his own head for an answer, "FRIDAY, where's Anthony right now?"

"He is in the detention wing with Mr. Stark and Miss Maximoff."

"Son of a bitch," Bucky hissed, releasing his grip on you, "he's trying to get into Steve's head, just like he did with (Y/N). I need to get down there and stop him. Banner, take my spot, don't let her leave." Before turning to rush out of the room, Bucky paused and leaned close to you, kissing your cheek to try to calm you, "please stay here and trust me," he whispered.

"Barnes," Bruce broke in, nodding towards the door to draw Bucky's attention away from you. When he turned his head, he nearly dropped to his knees in shock, and he couldn't control the tears of relief that began to fill his eyes.

"Hey, man," Steve greeted cautiously, "I leave my head for a few hours and you're already making the moves on my girl?" He hurried down the few steps that led into the infirmary, grabbing a hug from his friend before stepping past him to you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that you thought he might never let go. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Uncle James," Anthony joined in with a mischievous chuckle as he stepped out from behind Tony and ran to join you, "I told you guys I'd find him, didn't I?" He jumped up on your gurney and into your welcome arms once Steve released you, nuzzling his face into your neck with another tight squeeze. "Hi, Mommy."

"Hi, baby," you whispered in reply, "I thought I lost you." You pushed back a bit to look at him but your eyes wandered down to the soft skin of his neck, where a bruise had formed in the shape of your own hand, much to your horror. "Anthony...was that...did I do that to you?"

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt anymore."

"Oh my god..."

"It wasn't you, Mom. Grandpa explained to us what happened."

"And that it's never going to happen again," Tony added, moving to your side and pressing a kiss to your hair, his arm wrapping around you, "I'm going to make sure of it."

"How do you plan on that?" T'Challa inquired, stepping up eagerly.

"Easy. I'm going to make them all BARF."