HEAVY ANGST.  CHARACTER DEATH.  IT'S HEAVY, SERIOUSLY.

Steve awoke inside of hell. Fire-filled, raging, hell.

Coughing the smoke from his lungs, shaking and scared, he tried to take a quick inventory of his own injuries, thankful for his ability to move and breathe still intact. His movements weren't without pain, however, but he didn't care; pushing himself up to stand, it was immediately clear that he had two broken legs, nearly falling on his face when they gave way. "Okay, Rogers," he hissed through his pain, pushing back tears that he wouldn't acknowledge, "they'll heal. Just get up. One step at a time..."

He tried again, only to have the same response of tumbling over. So instead, he crawled through the rubble that was once home, all the while taking notes of whose voices he heard and whose he had yet to distinguish. The number of those heard paled in comparison to those not, and when it came down to it, there were only four that he wanted.

When a new and different singe of pain shot up his legs, he allowed only one breath of relief; it was the pain of his body trying to repair itself, to set the fragments of bone straight again, so he stilled and waited as his brain screamed impatiently for him to keep going. Taking only the tiniest risk to push up on his elbows, he looked from window to window, remembering that he had last seen you outside, cursing and screaming aloud at what he was seeing now.

~~~

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), we need to move," Tony ordered you, grabbing your arm and dragging you across the lawn, with no time to wait for you to actually wake up again. "Sweetheart, please, I need you to move!" His body was in autopilot, not connected with rational thought; your neck may have been broken for all he knew, but he didn't allow those thoughts in because it would mean that he had no reason to live if you weren't.

"Stark!"

"Oh, thank god," he sighed, turning towards T'Challa's voice, "I need to get up there, can you take her?"

"Yes, go," the king agreed, rushing to kneel at your side and push his hands beneath you, "I will keep her safe until she wakes."

Tony's boot jets sputtered and came to life, but he paused for only a second, turning back before lifting off to ask the question he didn't want an answer to, "T'Challa, who's left?"

"You must go," he deflected, "there is no time for heartbreak or mourning. The fight continues."

"There's no time for cryptic bullshit, either! Just tell me! Pepper? Steve? The kids?"

T'Challa couldn't break the man this way, not with so much yet to be lost or gained, and the fight couldn't lose Iron Man at this stage of it. Yes, there were casualties, but he was being fully honest in his answer now, as lying would bring no solace or comfort anyway. "I saw movement from only the Captain."

~~~

With walls crashing into broken pieces around him, and the shell of the compound gone, the black sky was left overhead for Steve to search as he tried to get his bearings and sense of direction in the destruction. He had forced his body to crawl far enough to see the edge of the rubble, turning back to get a better look and to search for his loved ones. He had no idea where the kids had gone to hide, and he hoped that it was in any building but this one; he wanted desperately to talk to you, to know that you were alive and to pray that you knew where they were. But he also understood that having that come true was unlikely now.

He began to understand that it was his mistake that brought the end of his team. He had turned them into captive victims to wait for their fate with no way to escape.

Everywhere that Steve looked around him, the scene became only more painful and dismal, and his heart was so broken that he had no idea how he was still alive to witness it. He had never wished more for his own death, and it shamed him to think that way, but it made it no less true. He had failed. He had failed you, his children, the team, and the world around him. The sights that he couldn't look away from tore at his soul like a dull knife, taking the breath from his chest, feeling as if he didn't deserve the air anyway. The deep black of the sky was as bright as the sun in comparison to the color of his soul.

Only a few feet away, as the chaos began to fade and the dust settled, he could hear the pain in Bucky's voice as he called out to Sam, but he would never answer. Clint and Nat were almost side-by-side, nearly close enough to touch, and Steve had to fight the urge to go to them just to push their lifeless hands together one more time. Stephen had fallen, with Rhodey at his side, his suit shattered in pieces and crushed beyond recognition. Pete and Scott were barely visible to him in the distance, with Scott's body draped protectively over Wanda's, in his last attempt of bravery that Steve vowed to never forget if he survived this.

But then he made the mistake of turning his head, and it was the impetus he needed to rise to his feet, broken legs or not, and run to save the only reason that he was still going on; he believed with every fiber of his being, that this was why. You were alive, standing on exhausted legs and still fighting with all that you had, and he couldn't let you do it alone.

Tony was doing his best to shield you from the blasts that the Gauntlet threw your way, but he couldn't catch them all. The suit was nearly dead around him, and FRIDAY had been destroyed, leaving him with the resolve that he wasn't going to make it much longer; if he was going to die, just as he had predicted all along, it would be saving you.

"Mom!"

"Anthony?" you called back, turning instinctively to where the voice had come from, but your son wasn't there. You were so shocked at the sound, in such a wash of relief, that you never saw it coming.

"You are of significant importance, I have come to learn," Thanos growled, pushing Tony back and now towering over you as you turned, "the fight will wage on so long as you survive. All things must have their end, though I have found this to be enjoyable and will mourn that loss. As I said, valiant battle has its reward, which I now bestow upon you." And with a single motion, with an effort that felt like nothing to him, the mad Titan cracked his hand across your face, in a final snap that dropped you limp to the ground.

"No! (Y/N)!" Steve screamed out, joined in by Tony as the two men rushed towards him. T'Challa and Bucky heard their friend's call and pushed their beaten bodies to their limits to help, but they were held back, surrounded by the Order who had returned to their master's side. It only took but the wave of his hand to stop them, the Gauntlet releasing a force that Steve knew they wouldn't survive. When the beam hit Tony, the suit crashed into him, toppling the two men to the ground in a heap of broken bones and a will to live that was beginning to finally waver.

Just beyond where you were lying, through the fire and smoke that still burned his eyes, Steve saw the real Anthony; he was pale and staring to the sky with a dullness in his eyes. Grant was at his side, having tried to protect him only to fail and fall with his brother, but his gaze was fixed on Steve, even now. He had counted on his father to save him, to help them survive this, but he couldn't, and the pain and cries that Steve tried to release had no sound through the painful choking in his voice.

"Dad! I can't-"

"Brooke?" he jolted to attention and called back, finding a sudden power in hearing her, though he wouldn't fall for the trickery that had taken you. The grime and blood covered his glove, blood that could have belonged to any one of his teammates, but he used it to wipe his eyes anyway, finding the voice to be true when he looked again. "Brooke, run!"

"I've got...him..." she struggled, her hands out and holding Thanos eerily still. His Gauntlet was extended towards her and ready to strike, and if she let him go, it would take her down. "I can't...much longer! Dad, go!"

"Like hell I will," Steve growled, pushing himself up on still broken legs, fighting the urge to cry out in pain with each step towards the bastard who had destroyed his family. His baby girl was giving him a chance, and Thanos would pay for this even if it took Steve's last breath. His steps quickened into a sprint, knowing that Brooklyn could hold on for only a few more seconds, each landing of his foot purposeful and measured. Just as her control of the monster was lost, Steve got his hands around the Gauntlet, pulling with every ounce of strength that he had, relying on the rage that he had grown from the scene around him. It slipped off and into his hands, but not before one final blast struck him down, sending the Captain, who would be the world's savior, flying back and smashing into a pile of debris that nearly swallowed him whole.

"Dad, no!" Brooklyn screamed to him, but now finding herself suddenly very alone, and staring up at Thanos without anyone there to protect her. With a pounding heart that deafened her and breaths that barely moved within her chest, she tried to resolve herself to the realization that this would be her death, and that she had done the best that she could. With her chin held high, and her Rogers upbringing holding her steady, she looked up at the Titan and showed him nothing. "I'm not afraid of you anymore, and I won't let you use me again."

"I will give you a quick death, little one. You have earned that."

"Don't you dare...touch my granddaughter," Tony hissed, crawling away from where Steve had left him with pained movements, the suit malfunctioning and sputtering around him but determined to keep moving. "Baby, get it," he told her urgently, "I'll...I'll cover you."

Brooklyn nodded and raised her hands, trying to will the Gauntlet to her, struggling to free it from her father's hands and free of the rubble that surrounded him. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can, sweetheart," Tony pressed, shooting what little energy he had left in the suit to keep Thanos from touching her. "Just focus, honey. Do this for your dad. He believes in you."

She stopped and took a deep breath, allowing her mind to slow and fill with the memories of Steve and when everyone was happy, and together. She thought about Anthony and Grant, and pushed away the pain of when she felt them die right next to her. She thought about Maggie, and how much she loved her still after all this time. She looked at you once more, and vowed that she would die too if it meant giving her Dad and Grandpa a chance to survive. Her hands slowly lifted again, and is if with no effort at all, the Gauntlet flew into them for Tony to quickly tear away.

"Stay behind me!" Tony warned, slipping the Gauntlet over his own, his devastation culminating in one brilliant, blinding final burst that leveled Thanos once and for all, silencing the swirl of debris and death that had surrounded you all once his massive body crashed to the ground next to them. The next wave of Tony's hand would end the Black Order, and he had never felt such satisfaction, such power. It surged through him, like a drug that he wanted more of, and that he suddenly couldn't live without. He felt brand new and omnipotent, and it was beyond addictive. "Is he dead?" he asked in a mumble, but he already knew the answer.

"I think so," Brooklyn panted, looking at the heap of terror, who seemed to be not breathing, with his eyes closed and his body limp. "Grandpa, you did it."

"You did it, baby. That was you."

Tony ripped away what was left of his helmet and crawled his way to you first, shaking you almost violently, trying to wake you up. He had never felt so much fear as he had on this day, and if he had to face losing you, too, amongst everything and everyone else, it would destroy him and he would welcome it. "(Y/N)? (Y/N), sweetheart, please...please wake up. I can't do this without you. Please don't do this to me. Don't leave me again."

His hands frantically searched for a heartbeat, holding one over your chest and another at your wrist, but he felt nothing. Tony lowered his head, resting it where his hand had just been over your heart, in one last, terrified attempt to hear something. His tears spilled readily when he heard only a vacant dullness, soaking your shirt that was already soiled with your own blood and that of your team. You were gone and he had the audacity to live.

"Dad! Grandpa, help me!"

Tony turned immediately, hurrying to her and pulling away the bricks and twisted metal bars from around Steve's body. The fires that burned around him heated the metal until it melted Tony's suit as he worked, but it didn't slow him. His movements became more frantic as he uncovered more and the extent of Steve's injuries became clear; he knew that there were only a few precious minutes left, so he carefully lifted his son-in-law from the rubble so that he could see his daughter one last time.

"Steve?" he spoke quietly, pushing up to hold him steady and struggling to see him through the tears that burned his eyes. "Steve, we're here. Brooke and I are still here. You're going to be okay. Just hang on."

"Tony, it's..." he answered, though his voice was broken. Steve's hands reached out for him aimlessly, as if he couldn't see though he was looking right at him. Brooklyn took his hands to guide him through his blindness, and his demeanor calmed at her touch. "Shhh, guys, it's...it's okay."

"No, it's not. Steve, don't you dare," Tony choked out. "We can't lose you too. Brooke has lost so much...I've lost everything..."

"Brooke, I love you so much. More than I've said..."

"Daddy, don't..."

"But you have been the best...daughter...you saved the world," he continued, though his strength was waning. "I'm so...proud..."

"Please, don't leave me, Daddy. Please," she begged, resting her head onto his hands as she wept, her tears re-wetting the dried blood that covered them.

"Thank you, Tony...for (Y/N)..."

"No! Steve, come on, this isn't it," he insisted, glancing at the girl crying at his side, "there's no one else." When he turned back to him to say more, his heart dropped into his stomach, broken, eviscerated, and hollow at the loss that he knew was coming, but that he could never accept.

"Steve?" he mumbled quietly, feeling the black pit growing in his chest. "Steve? Goddammit! Dammit, it was supposed to be me!" he growled in a violent yell out into the open air around him, clutching Steve's still body in his hands. Tony looked at you and let the shattering of his own heart continue, allowing the blackness to swallow it whole and leave him cold despite the sunlight that had returned all around him and the fires that heated his skin. But he couldn't be so cold as to not take one last opportunity to come through for you, to show his love for the both of you even though you would never know. He stood on shaking and uncertain legs within his suit and carried the man who had become his unlikely family as carefully as he could, then gently lowered your husband to your side, taking great care to be sure that your hands were together one last time.