"One catastrophe at a time, please," you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you thought out your next move. "Okay, Steve and Tony are locked up, and it's likely their own stupid fault for being there, so I'm not so worried about them. Brooklyn, did he leave anything behind that might give us a clue as to where he could've gone?"

"No, not that we've seen anywhere."

"Has he said anything that could help us?"

"I don't think so-"

"Miss (Y/N)," FRIDAY interrupted, "I have a call for you."

You looked around the room for your phone, realizing that you must have left it in the locker room when you changed for your workout. You asked your daughter to stay there while you left to go find it and have the conversation with whoever was on the line in private. "Can you patch it over to my phone please?" Once in the locker room, you quickly found the device in your locker, catching it as FRIDAY connected it and it began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, hot stuff."

"Wade," you sighed, "I'm a little busy right now with random emergencies-"

"Well, it seems like I might just have the solution to one of them. There's a blonde kid sitting in my living room who looks a hell of a lot like Cap. Did you happen to lose track of one, or has this turned into one of those weird de-aging things like they did in that last movie? Cuz that shit was creepy as fuck and I really don't want that going on in my home."

~~~

Steve and Tony sat quietly in their respective holding cells, directly across the hall from each other so that they couldn't try to do anything else stupid together. The call for you to come in had happened hours ago now, and both men were beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up, and if they even deserved for you to at this point. Tony was enjoying a strong headache now that his alcohol had completely worn off, and his hands began to shake with the tremors of withdrawal; his body had become so accustomed to having a steady drink that now it didn't know how to go without it.

"I might puke," Tony announced, breaking the silence between them.

"Then I'm glad you're over there."

"I think we might have fucked up enough for her to finally not care."

"Yeah, maybe," Steve agreed softly.

The silence returned after that, leaving the two lost in their own thoughts once again. Steve had been looking at his hands, turning them over to examine them while his mind raced and wondered how it came to be that he was this person. He had that young man's throat so tightly in his grip, and if Tony hadn't have stopped him... "I'm not this person," he mumbled to himself. "I'm not this person."

"No, Cap, you're not," Tony agreed, "you're a good man who's hurting and saw revenge literally in your hands for the taking."

"I was blinded-" Steve stopped when he heard a strange guttural sound from Tony's side of the hallway, strong enough to make him look up from his hands for the first time in hours with a cringe at what he was taking in.

"Yep, puked. Called it," Tony gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Dammit, a drink sure would cure this."

"Tony, you have to stop," Steve warned, "this isn't the way to deal with what's going on. Look at what it's doing to you. I hate to say this, but you know that (Y/N) and I can't have you around the kids if you're drunk all the time. Think about what that would do to them to not see their grandpa every day."

"Don't you think I have enough guilt without throwing more at me, Steve?" Tony hiccupped and bent his head down to the floor again with a loud groan, waiting for another round to strike. "They know what I did. How can I look any of them in the eye after that?"

Steve had heard enough now and stood, crossing his cell to stand where Tony would clearly see his face and how serious he was in what he was about to say. He had spent the last two months torturing himself over the guilt that he carried with him, but the worst it had done was destroy the items in your home, all of them able to be replaced; this was destroying Tony himself, and he wasn't about to stand idly by while it happened if he had any way to stop it. "Tony, look at me."

"Hold on," he gasped again, "puking." A moment passed and nothing happened, so he sat up straight against the cool brick wall to try to calm his body and the rage that was building in his stomach to punish him. He had been breaking out in sweats, and then felt like he was freezing, getting dizzy when he stood, and could hear his heart pounding in his ears; he had never felt so sick, and it was enough to make him rethink his method of coping. "Okay, go."

"When we get out of here, I want you to go see my therapist in London."

"I don't believe in therapy."

"But you believe in destroying yourself instead?"

"Hey, I didn't ask for your help," Tony argued, wanting to stand up to make his point, but his body wouldn't let him. "I can handle it myself."

"Yeah, you're doing such a great job, both of you," you hissed, hearing them from the doorway at the end of the hall. "What the hell is going on with you two? I haven't seen or heard from you in two months," you pointed at Steve, then turned, "and Dad, you're always so drunk off your ass that I'm surprised you made it out of the compound. Then when I think that it can't get any worse, I get a call that it has."

"(Y/N)," Steve sighed, relieved at the sight of you rather than balking at all at your tone. Seeing you after so long was like finding water in the desert and he hadn't realized just how much he had missed you until this moment. It made him regret so much more what he had done to put himself behind the cell doors, and he went from feeling thankful to an overwhelming shame in a matter of seconds. "I'm sorry that you have to do this."

"Me too," Tony added meekly.

"All I can say is that you're lucky that dad still has a few friends high up in the government. Nick had to do some pretty serious begging to get them to let you out, and now we've got Secretary Ross on our backs again."

"Ross? What does he care?" Tony asked readily, standing on wobbly legs to make his way closer with a heavy and necessary lean against the door to hold himself up. "We didn't do anything that would violate the Accords, so he has no jurisdiction."

"We have a mission that departs tomorrow. I had to explain why our two leads can't seem to be bothered enough to make it. The two of you have been temporarily released from the team until you prove to the Secretary that you are competent to serve. He's got psychological evaluations set up for you both at the end of the week, and I'm not gonna lie, I'm worried that you'll pass from what I'm seeing right now."

Steve now joined with Tony in his disbelief, the two men looking to each other with regret that they had put you in this position, but also a sense of anger at how it was being handled by a man that they both thoroughly hated; they were pretty certain that he held the same regard for them. "If we're out, then who's in charge? Who's taking lead positions on the mission? The team hasn't been in action for months."

"Bucky and I," you answered plainly and without further explanation. "I've got a cab waiting out front to take you two back home, so make sure you're there when I get back so we can talk about this. I have to go pick up my next emergency of the day." Turning away as you grabbed your phone to contact Wade that you were on the way, you stopped when Steve's voice had reached a new tone that carried a hint of panic that you needed to quickly shut down.

"Next emergency? What's going on?"

"Grant ran away this morning, but don't worry, I know where he is. He's in moderately capable hands so I'm on my way to get him before he can be taught any more language than he already knows." You again turned to leave, this time successfully making your way out uninterrupted.

Steve and Tony exchanged worried looks across the hallway, but so many things had just come to light that neither of them were sure as to what the other was thinking. "You first," Tony offered.

"She's not ready."

"Hmm, well, we're sort of on the same page," Tony muttered, "but I was thinking that while you and I have been off whining like little bitches for these past two months, she's been carrying everything on her shoulders and hasn't taken time to work through what happened."

"You think she's gonna crack?"

"Cap, I think she already has."

~~~

When you made it to Wade's house, you stood at the door and tried to formulate what you would say to Grant about what had happened, and tried to decide just how firm you would be with his punishment. You tried to put yourself in his shoes for a minute, thinking about how traumatized your kids were from the loss of their sister, then to have their dad leave them for the past two months, only to have his best friend try to take his place, even if only as a friend. Top that all off with a grandpa who had completely shattered, and you began to understand that this was actually a minor reaction for any of them to have. You started to wonder why they hadn't behaved much worse.

Now that you had only made yourself more confused than before, you decided that there was no better time to knock and to get this done. You could hear both Wade and Grant on the other side of the door, and when it opened to let you in, you were caught off guard by the boy rushing to grab ahold of you, his arms so tightly around you that it took your breath away and toppled you back a step when he connected.

"I'm sorry, Mom, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run away. I just didn't know what else to do. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, baby," you answered calmly, "I know. I'm just glad that you went somewhere safe."

"Hey, there's an old blind lady stumbling around the joint, so I don't know how safe it really is," Wade added, stepping into the doorway. "I think she tripped over him a dozen times and he's been here like three hours."

Thank you, you mouthed silently to him, eliciting a smile and nod from him in reply. "Okay, young man, let's get you home. Say thank you to Wade."

"Thank you," Grant offered meekly, turning towards your friend with an extended hand, "I'm sorry that I showed up uninvited and caused you trouble."

Wade stared at the boy's hand for a second, as if he didn't know what to do with it. Grant took the cue and instead closed his fist, keeping it extended as Wade eagerly returned the gesture with a solid hit. "Trouble is my middle name, kid. We're good."

"I thought your middle name was Winston?" you smirked. "Trouble just screws up the alliteration."

"Nerd."

"Asshat," you countered, quickly slapping a hand over your mouth when you remembered that Grant was standing right next to you and when Wade's eyes widened in delight. "You didn't hear that."

"Wow, I never thought that I'd see the day when I was the good influence," Wade scoffed. "Where's Captain Language?"

At the mention of Steve, all you could offer your friend was a half-hearted smile before turning away, your hand against Grant's back to lead him to the car. You expected fully that Wade would be calling you later to try to pry more information from you, but you couldn't worry about what you would say. You had enough to deal with already, knowing that Tony and Steve would likely be at the compound when you arrived, and that Steve would want to give his input on what to do with Grant, even though you wanted nothing to do with it. He hadn't been a part of the family for two months, and you wanted him to earn his place back within it.

Grant secured his seatbelt and gave Wade a small wave goodbye, turning to look straight ahead rather than at you as you started the car and began your way home. His gaze didn't falter at all, even as the bustling city passed by, when normally he would be enthralled by the sights. "I really am sorry," he whispered, "I handled it all wrong."

"Yeah, you did, but from the day that I've been having, I'm starting to realize that none of us are very good at handling our problems. I can't blame you, sweetie, when some days I'm barely hanging on myself. I'll talk to your dad, so don't worry about him, okay?"

"Is he coming home?"

"He should be there when we arrive."

"Do I have to talk to him?"

"Not if you don't want to."

The boy straightened in his seat, taking a deep breath before setting his jaw with a determined resolve, exactly as his father would do in the same situation. Little did he know, that as each day passed and as you watched him struggle with new challenges, the more that they were alike. "Great," he answered coolly, "because I don't want to."