It was impossible to sleep after that, lying in bed next to Steve with the feeling that you had to keep one eye open at all times, and now with the crippling pain of belief that you had no idea who the man next to you even was. But despite your fear and no matter how much pain it caused you to watch, you had to try to maintain your composure until you could figure out what was happening. You had to keep him safe from whoever was getting to him just as much as you had to keep yourself and the kids safe from him.

As your mind raced, you almost had yourself convinced that you had heard him wrong, and it was just trickery in your own head that was leading you here. If he were being controlled, he wouldn't be able to come home and act normally, as if everything was okay, right? He wouldn't be able to interact with his children so casually and comfortably if it wasn't Steve...right?

"Dammit," you muttered, sitting up and swinging your legs over the bed. The fatigue had already set into your body in anticipation of sleep, though not relieved by a long stretch as it usually would be. You stopped when you heard Steve begin to stir, turning to look at him expectantly while trying to maintain an outward calm.

"Hey," he whispered, "what's wrong?"

"Can't sleep," you replied with a weary smile, "I'm gonna run down and grab some milk. Be back in a few minutes."

"M'kay," he murmured, rolling over and back to sleep.

With a sigh of relief, you slid off the bed and quietly tip-toed to the door, closing it behind you softly as to not wake him again. Once outside of your room, your pace quickened towards the kitchen, bypassing the elevator and taking the stairs two and three at a time. Your heart was pounding with each step and your body felt the urgency to get as much distance from Steve as it could despite your attempts to tell yourself otherwise. By the time you rounded the corner and crossed the threshold of the room, you felt as if your heart was about to explode in your chest.

"Hey, girl, what are you doing up at this hour?"

"Hey, Buck," you panted, trying to hold yourself together, "couldn't sleep."

"Ah, I know that feeling," he paused, sensing more and standing to meet you, "hey, you're shaking. What's going on?"

You shook your head and closed your eyes, doing your best to fight the tears that wouldn't follow your command to stop. A few fell and you felt his hand come up to your cheek, only to make you open your eyes and step away from him. "Just a bad dream, Buck. I'm okay, I just need a drink."

"That must have been one hell of a dream. You wanna talk about it?"

"Nope," you replied with a pop, pushing your way around him and to the cupboard to take a glass in hand. "I just want it to get out of my head." Grabbing the milk, you poured a small amount, followed by a few splashes of tea, but you were missing the one thing that you really wanted. You heard him take his seat again as you looked around in more cupboards, only to come up empty. "Buck, do we have any Bailey's?"

"Shit, how bad was your dream, (Y/N)?"

"Just answer the damn question, please."

"Yeah, we do," he answered cautiously, standing and running to the bar on the far side of the lounge, only to return seconds later with a bottle in his grip. "Here, all yours."

You grabbed it readily and tore the label and cap away, filling the rest of your glass eagerly before taking a long drink with a sigh of relief at it's flavor. "Thanks. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just tired and cranky."

"Right. I've seen you tired and cranky, (Y/N), and this ain't that."

The more he asked, the more you realized that you really didn't know how to answer him, nor did you have the energy to anymore. The two of you sat in silence once you had taken a place across the table from him; you stared at the liquid in your glass while he stared at you. He was a man with remarkable patience, and you knew that if you told him everything, he would listen and help to find an answer, but you just couldn't risk it.

"Buck," you finally said, breaking the silence, "if anything happened to me...and Steve...you'd make sure that the three of them stayed together, wouldn't you?"

"Okay, you're scaring the hell outta me, (Y/N)," he answered, pushing his hand across the table to take yours. "This isn't just a bad dream, is it? There's something going on here that you're not telling me."

"No," you backpedaled, "there's nothing going on. I'm just rattled...it'll pass." You took your glass and tipped it back, emptying it in one swallow before standing to set it in the sink. "It was just too realistic, I think. You know how those are? I'll be okay," you waved him off casually, "goodnight, Buck."

He sat silently as he watched you walk away and back towards the elevator, not replying to your goodnight as he struggled to think of what could have shaken you so much that you would purposefully hide it from him. In all of the years that you had known each other, you had never lied about anything, making it that much clearer to him that you were now; it didn't hurt him at all, but rather it scared him that something very wrong was happening, and his intuition wouldn't let it go. If there was one thing that he had learned in all of his years, it was to never doubt his intuition, and that it was never wrong.

~~~

The next morning, after getting maybe an hour of sleep at best, the sun was cruel enough to wake you to start another day; it was a day that you feared beginning because you had no idea what it would bring. Never before had you felt so afraid in your own home, and for the first time, you were genuinely afraid of Steve.

"Hey, doll," he yawned, sitting up on his side of the bed, "did you finally get to sleep?"

"Not really. But it's okay, I can try to grab a nap with the kids later."

"I'll get up with them, you stay here," he offered, stretching as he stood. "I'd like to watch them with Wanda and Vision today anyway, so go ahead and rest." He walked around to your side of the bed, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way to the bathroom. He was just about there when a text sounded from the closet, making him change his steps to hurry towards it. You held your breath as he read it, hoping that it wasn't another message from HC, whoever that was. The last one was directed at you, and if he didn't answer it soon, you worried that their demands would only get worse.

"Great," he growled, tossing the device aside, "well, so much for my plans today."

"You have to go already? You just got home."

"No, it's Buck," he huffed, grabbing clothes before trying for the bathroom again, "says something important has come up and needs me to meet him. Any idea what it might be?"

"Nope."

"Hmm," he hummed a bit skeptically, "okay, well, I guess I'll just have to help you get that nap time a little later, sorry."

"It's okay." You waited patiently for him to close the bathroom door behind him, hurrying to take your own phone from the bedside table to intercept whatever plans Bucky had for him.

Buck, whatever you're doing, don't. Don't make trouble where there isn't any, please.

Then tell me what's going on.

Nothing, I told you that.

Bullshit.

Bucky, please, just let it go. I'm handling it.

So there is something.

"Crap," you groaned at your own stupidity, realizing what you had just done.

I have to go, just text him back and cancel, please. I'll talk to you later.

Yes, you're damn right you will.

~~~

Wearily saying your goodbyes to each of your three kids one by one, leaving them with the seemingly limitless energy of Wanda Maximoff, you held out hope that now might be your chance to grab that nap and maybe find just enough energy to get through the rest of the day. If you were going to talk to Bucky about what you had found on Steve's phone, you would need all the strength that you could muster just to keep him calm.

Not more than a second after the elevator doors opened to allow you entry and solace until you could get to your room, the sounds of whistling filled the halls, coming from the most unlikely of places; Tony's lab. "So close," you grumbled, allowing the doors to close without you and turning to quell your curiosity and see for yourself what had him in such a good mood.

"Alright, Stark," you announced from the doorway, your arms crossed as you leaned against its frame, "you're sickeningly happy and I'm not sure if it should be making me this nervous or not. What's gotten into you?"

"Darlin', Daddy's got a date."

"You called her," you gasped with a wide smile that almost matched his. "Please, tell me it's who I think it is."

"We talked all night," he laughed, crossing the room to grab your hand. He spun you around and pulled you into a hug, making you laugh with him at his unabashed glee; it was a rarity to see Tony so happy, and as much as you wanted to share in it, all you could do was fight the urge to be jealous. "We're having dinner tonight, and I'm actually nervous as hell, can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I can. It just tells me how much you love her and that you don't want to screw it up. So don't screw it up, alright? I don't think any of us could handle that again."

"Hey, I'm with ya," he agreed, kissing your cheek hastily and turning back to his work. "I think it's about damn time that we all had a shot at some happiness around here. I feel like everything is finally falling into place."

"Yeah," you replied in a shaky whisper, "it's falling all right."

"Hmm? What was that?"

"I said yeah," you deflected with a false smile, turning quickly to leave, "it's about time."