Watching Steve pack for a mission had never been one of your favorite things to do, but being his usual mission partner with a current overwhelming desire to get your mind off of what was happening in your personal life with the kids, this was probably the worst it had been. Over the past two months, he had been called out on several solo missions, which in itself wasn't strange, but each one had taken longer and longer, and it seemed to be draining him. As he put his belongings into his bag, he seemed restless too, and after a few absentminded moments of losing his socks and then one of his boots, you decided to get to the bottom of what was happening to the normally most organized person that you knew.

"Steve, are you going to talk to me, or are you really about to leave me for a week with your head in a mess?"

"I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

He gave you a harsh glare when you let out a loud sigh of disapproval, but it didn't phase you. Steve could bring as much attitude as he wanted, but you knew that you were right about something being wrong, and you were going to figure it out. "Is it about the kids? Because Wanda and Vision promised us that they would help-"

"No."

"You don't want to go?"

"I'm fine, (Y/N), please drop it."

"You're pretty defensive for a guy who's fine."

"Goddamn it, shut up already!"

You took a step back at the sudden rage aimed at you, and the warning in his eyes that you should listen to him. "Steve-"

"And don't you dare say language to me, (Y/N), I fucking hate that."

"I wasn't going to," you whispered, taking another step away. "I'm sorry...I'll...I'll drop it."

"Good," he spat, slamming the last two items into his bag and yanking the zipper closed angrily. "I need to focus, and I can't do it with you nagging me all the time. I can't wait to get the hell out of here for the next week. If I'm lucky, I can make it two." He didn't look back at you again before slinging his pack over his shoulder and storming towards the door, slamming it behind him without another word.

You weren't sure how long you stood silently, frozen and in utter shock, staring at the closed door as if it would open at any second to produce the Steve that you knew with an apology and the fulfilled promise of never leaving for a mission angry. But as the minutes ticked by, your hope dwindled, replaced with confusion and finally fear; that wasn't your Steve.

~~~

"Anthony, look at me," Wanda directed the little one gently, "touch my hand."

Five chubby fingers rested in her palm as he looked in her eyes, and he immediately stilled. "Wan-na...happy?"

"Very close, yes," she smiled, eliciting a return smile from him, "but we will teach you more words to help you get it just right. Can you make Wanda feel sad?"

"No," he shook his head emphatically, pulling his hand away. "Don't want to."

"It's okay, Anthony, I want you to. We can change it back."

"No, don't want to," he repeated, standing up with wide eyes and turning back towards the door with a point of his hand. "Mama scared."

This caught Vision's attention, drawing him away from his work with Brooklyn, who immediately dropped the group of blocks that she had levitating in front of her. "Anthony? You can sense her without touch?"

"Where's Mama?" he replied. "I make Mama not scared."

"This is remarkable," Vision gasped, catching Wanda's equally impressed gaze. "I don't know if his power is growing, or if there's a bond with (Y/N) that is allowing this despite the distance between them. I will have to study this further before we continue his work."

"Yes, but I think we need to find out what's happening with (Y/N), don't you?" Wanda urged, standing to leave, but coming to a fast halt when the door opened to allow you entry into the room. "(Y/N), are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you lied, "I just wanted to check in on how today's lesson was going." You smiled and crossed the room, going first to Anthony, who seemed the most anxious to see you with his arms up high and running towards you. "Hey, buddy, has Auntie Wanda been good to-"

He stopped your words immediately as you lifted him, grabbing your neck and clutching you tightly with a small cry in his voice. "Be happy, Mama. Be happy. Scared is bad."

"Woah, hey, I'm okay, sweetheart, I'm okay."

"No. Be happy now, Mama." He pulled back and scrunched up his little nose in frustration, pouting in disappointment when he wasn't getting the result that he wanted. "No more scared! Let me do it!"

"Baby, it's okay," you said soothingly, stroking his cheek now as tears dropped from his blue eyes, "I promise, I'm okay. Don't cry." You looked over his head to see Wanda watching intently with worry in her expression now too, and all you could do was shake your head gently to hold her at bay; you didn't even know what you would say to her, not having an explanation for anything about what you were feeling. Until you did, there was only one person that you wanted to talk to.

"Hey guys," you smiled around to each child, returning Anthony to the floor, "I'm going to find Papa Tony to talk to him for a while, but after that I'll come back to play, okay?"

"Papa too," Brooklyn smiled, returning her focus to her blocks, with not a care in the world; you envied her innocence in that moment.

You made the mistake of trying to make a quick exit, but Wanda was at the door before you were, standing in the way so that you couldn't leave without talking to her first. "(Y/N), why couldn't Anthony change your mood?"

"Did Steve stop by here before he left?" you deflected. "To say goodbye to them?"

"No, I didn't know that he was leaving again. Did something happen?"

It was all you could do to push her aside and get through the door before the tears began to flow, unrelenting as you tried to catch your breath. Once you were clear of her sight and hidden around the corner, you used the wall to help you to the floor; it was getting harder to breathe, much less to walk anywhere until you could pull yourself together. "Damn anxiety," you muttered to yourself, pressing yourself against the cold surface to try to feel any sense of stability when you could only feel yourself falling away.

"FRIDAY," you whispered between gasps, "where's my dad?"

"I've already called for him, miss," she replied, "he's on the elevator."

"He's right here," Tony broke in, jogging down the hall towards you to kneel at your side. "Breathe."

"I can't let Ant feel this, I need to get out of here."

"Come on," he agreed, gently helping you to your feet, leaving his arm around you as he helped you walk, "slow it down, kiddo. You've done these enough to know how this goes."

"I'm trying," you said, pushing forward step after agonizing step, until the two of you reached the elevator and made your way to the safety of the enclosed space. Your grip on the railing blanched the color from your knuckles, and your eyes were squeezed shut tightly while you counted the ding of each passing floor on your way to wherever Tony had chosen to take you. When the doors opened, so did you eyes, allowing him to lead you into the lounge, where he helped you lay on the couch.

Tony lifted your head slightly and pushed you up, sliding in to sit and lie a pillow on his lap for you to rest it on. "Breathe, sweetheart." His hand gently rested on your head, his thumb just barely grazing over your forehead rhythmically to try to get you to time your breathing with it. The two of you had worked out things like this for each other, trying and failing many times until finding what would work to calm you both through your panic attacks.

"What happened to Steve?" you whispered, closing your eyes again.

"What...what do you mean?" he asked, now sitting up more alert.

"We had a fight before he left, but I don't even know what it was about. He just...snapped."

"I'll pull him back from the job," he replied definitively, "and I can talk to him with you if you want."

"No, don't," you sat up fully, nearing a panic again, "that'll just piss him off even more, and Anthony is already sensing that something is wrong. Just..." you paused, laying back again, "just talk to me about something else. Distract me."

"Okay, well..." he sighed, searching his mind, "I'm in a bit of a pickle, myself. I seem to be obsessing and I'm stuck in a constant loop that I can't break out of. I know what I'm doing, and what it's doing to me, but I can't stop."

"What is it?"

"It's just...I miss her, ya know? I want her to meet the kids, be in their lives with me. But I know that won't happen, right?" He relaxed and leaned back into the couch cushions with a groan, reaching up his free hand to rub across his eyes, "I'm such an idiot."

"Yeah, but we've known that for a while."

"Smartass."

"We've known that for a while too," you smirked. You reached up and took his hand, "would it help if I called her? Just to see how she is, what she's up to?"

"Spy on Pepper? Ha," he scoffed, "I could get that out of FRIDAY."

"Not if she's dating anyone. I imagine that she'd try to keep that pretty quiet from the A.I. that talks to you, but she still likes me."

"Thanks, kid. Subtle. Clearly just another one of my many remarkable skills that I've passed on."

~~~

Steve had managed to stretch out his mission to two weeks, just as he had hoped to when he had left that day, and when he returned, it was as if nothing had happened between you. He first made his way to see the kids, laughing and playing with each of them, eagerly watching as Wanda and Vision proudly displayed all that they had taught them even in such a short time.

After the trio had worn him out and he was ready to settle back in, you joined him in your room to help him unpack with an uneasiness about the thought of arguing again. You were trying to keep on your best behavior, as ridiculous as it sounded to you, only so that you might have a real shot at finding out what was going on with him once and for all.

"How did it go?"

"Not bad," he replied as he worked, turning away to put a few items in the dresser, "pretty much the usual. Find bad guy, arrest bad guy, endless paperwork...you know how it is."

"Yeah, sure do," you sighed, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. You were finding it hard to look at him, instead watching your hands and counting each finger to yourself slowly, timing the numbers with seconds breathing in and out to maintain control. "Any idea if you'll have to go again?"

"Nope, no idea until the call comes in." He grabbed his empty bag and tossed it into the closet, returning from it with a set of clean clothes and a stack of fresh towels in hand. "I'm gonna grab a shower before bed," he smiled, leaning in to take your chin in his hand, tipping you up to finally look at him. "Wait up for me?"

"Of course."

"I missed you," he whispered, closing the space between you and kissing you like he had been away for years. "I don't want to hurt you, (Y/N). Ever."

"I know," you replied cautiously, "you never would, Steve."

All he could do is nod, though his expression was sad and didn't match his actions. You waited in place until the bathroom door closed behind him and you heard the shower running for a few minutes to ensure that he had stepped inside. Standing and making your way to the door, you pressed your ear against it to hear the water flow displacing with his movements, letting you know that you had a little time.

Finding his pants in the closet, you hurried through each pocket until you found his phone, opening it and rapidly scrolling through his texts with a close ear on the sounds from the bathroom so that you wouldn't be caught.

Steve: Mission complete. Awaiting next target.

HC: Return home, Captain Rogers.

"Who the hell is HC?" you whispered, continuing to scroll while your mind raced for an answer.

HC: Target chosen, report.

Steve: Who is it?

HC: (Y/N)

The phone dropped from your hands when you heard the shower stop, even through the heavy beating of your own heart in your ears and the inability to control your rapid breaths. "FRIDAY, don't call my dad, I'm fine," you panted out the lie. Hurrying with fumbling hands, you took the phone from the floor and shoved it back into his pocket, scurrying from the closet and to your bed to pull the covers up high as you waited for him to appear.

Normally the hot steam that billowed from the bathroom with the clean scent of his soap would be a welcome and comforting thing, but today it made you uneasy, knowing that he was about to be right next to you. You wanted to confront him but you couldn't, not with so much at stake for your own safety, but also for your children in the adjoining room. You wouldn't say anything to Steve until you knew for sure what you were dealing with, no matter how hard it would be to stay quiet.

"I'd be nothing without you," he said quietly, taking his side of the bed next to you. His arm came up and draped heavily over you, pulling you in tightly to his chest with a contented hum and a deep breath, "you and the kids are all I have."

"You're all we have too, Steve," you agreed, "so just stay home with us now. You don't have to keep doing this."

"It's not that simple, doll," he stopped suddenly, removing his arm and rolling away, "but I'll figure it out. I have to." He didn't say anything for several minutes, leading you to believe that he had fallen asleep as his breathing deepened. Just as you closed your eyes, they shot open again when you heard him whisper under his breath, his tone heavy even in his haze of slumber, "I refuse to comply."