Let's send him into hell screaming, Tony.

Just as you had before, with this same nightmare destroying an otherwise peaceful sleep at the bedsides of your children, you bolted up and into full wakefulness, your breaths gasping Steve's name; only this time, he wasn't next to you to answer. Squeezing your eyes tighter to clear away the same tears that had blurred your vision once again, you tried to compose yourself and convince your own mind that it was a dream no matter how real it felt. You could hear a voice at your side, but it wasn't Steve's, and it gave you no comfort; his was the only one you wanted to hear, but it kept on, trying to drag you back into consciousness and reality with a growing intensity and urgency.

"(Y/N), you must open your eyes," Stephen urged. "Keeping yourself in that space will only make it easier for them to control you."

"I can't."

"You must. (Y/N), listen to me. What you're seeing isn't a dream. It's a future being fed into your mind through Anthony and what they're telling him. It's meant to terrify you into compliance."

"It's working," you whispered, turning your head away, only to have him grab your chin forcefully and turn you back.

"Open your eyes now, (Y/N), or I will open them for you."

It wasn't that you didn't want to do as you were told, because staying in that hell definitely wasn't a choice you made willingly. The pull was so strong that when you tried to act, something halted you, holding you there to see the fate of everyone you loved that scared you to your core, and as Stephen said, made you want to beg and promise anything to make it stop. In that flash of realization of what you were feeling, you knew, for the first time, the terrors that were being fed into your children to control them. It rapidly enraged you and shoved the fear down into obscurity, your eyes opening to face the sorcerer with a renewed purpose and animalistic need to protect them.

"(Y/N)," he began cautiously, "is that you?" He took a precautionary step back, his hands raised and poised to protect himself if need be. "Say something."

"Tell me how to stop this," you answered quietly, but with an icy conviction. "Tell me what I have to do to keep them away from my kids. You have to know."

"I can only make assumptions. Best guesses are all I have," Stephen shrugged in relief at your presence, but his disappointment in himself was obvious in his motions. "I'm trying to make sense of this as much as you are, but I do know this, (Y/N)," he paused, again forcing you to look his way, "we will figure this out, and we will find a way."

"Or die trying, right?" you added regretfully, looking away again. It was almost more painful to look at your three now as they slept, even if forced into the rest; they looked peaceful, unencumbered and content. At their gentle age, this was so much to burden them with, and you worried that if you all made it through this, how much damage would be done? What would the horrors that plagued them now do to the people that they would grow to become? Even if given your full attention and best efforts to help, there were no guarantees and no promises to the kind of future that would be left for them, and it gutted you to know that you would fail them so completely.

Stephen could feel the shift in you, even without seeing the emotions as they played out in your expression. He wasn't exactly your friend, he wasn't your teammate, and certainly not your protector, but he still felt a nagging responsibility to you and your trio by virtue of his unique ability if nothing else. But there was only so much that even he could do, and only so much that he could protect you from, and the reality of it all was sobering.

"If that is how it has to be, (Y/N), then yes."

~~~

After the long day, evening and night of training, the team was exhausted to say the least. Sure, they had routine workouts and Steve kept them at peak performance with regular sparring sessions, but this was on another level; he had them working harder and almost frantically to get to speed with each other's equipment and skills. Despite the hectic pace, none of them questioned him, because they all knew what was at stake, or at least they had a vague understanding of it.

After your interaction with Strange, you retired to the living room to join a few of your friends for a quick movie in the hopes of straying your mind from your worry, when you found that Sam and Bucky were the only two there.

"Hey, guys," you greeted with a long yawn, "where is everyone?"

"Stop that," Bucky yawned in reply, followed by Sam, the two of them shaking off the fatigue and failing. "They all headed off to bed a bit ago. We were just about to follow. What are you still doing up, anyway? I thought you were gonna stay by the kids tonight?"

"Bad dream, need a distraction," you smiled sadly, dropping down onto the couch between the two men, turning and lying your head in Bucky's lap and draping your legs over Sam's. "Distract me."

All they could do was laugh, even though it had a complete lack of humor in it, merely for the sake of their foiled plans to get any sleep. Sam reached down and slowly pulled off your sock and began to massage your foot, eliciting a groan of contentment from you that only fueled Bucky's laugh more. "You sure sound distracted now, doll."

"Shut up."

"I would, but I was about to tell you that you can take a break on the wedding plans," he continued. "We've decided to wait until all of this blows over. It doesn't really seem all that important now."

"No," you gasped, pulling your foot free and sitting up with a start, "don't say that. You guys, you can't stop your plans. Come on, don't make any rushed decisions, okay?"

"(Y/N), with everything about to happen-"

"It's more important than ever to keep some happiness going, don't you think?" you interrupted, looking back and forth at each of them. "All we've talked about for so long now is this thing that Tony is predicting, and the kids, and how to protect ourselves, if we even can," you paused, taking a restrained breath, "but listen, I know that it's your decision, and if you've already made it, then I'll make calls and put it all on hold. Just know that I wish you'd change your minds."

Sam and Bucky exchanged hesitant glances behind you, but it didn't escape your attention at all. They had to know that you were right, and sure, the circumstances sucked and the bigger scheme of things outweighed festivities, but they all needed a win, and to hold onto any joy that they could. If the team was going into their last days, they should be good ones, if nothing else.

"You're a pushy dame, you know that?" Bucky snickered, taking your shoulders and gently turning you back to lie down again. "I don't know how Steve does it."

"He gave up trying to win years ago," Sam agreed, your foot in hand already. "Says it makes life easier to just let her have the moment."

"Hey," you tried, but they both quickly shot you down before you could say any more.

"Hush, woman, we're trying to talk about you," Sam said with a cocky smile and turned back to Buck. "There's no winning with her, you know that. When she sets her mind to something, just do as your told. Tony taught me that within the first week of knowing her."

"Pfft, the first night that Steve introduced us, he took me aside and made it clear that you don't cross (Y/N). I thought he was just whipped, but turns out she really does steer the ship around this joint. I mean, yeah, he's probably is whipped, let's be real."

"He is not!" you snapped, this time pushing yourself up to stand in front of the men. "What the hell is up with you two?" Standing silently, your arms crossed over your chest, you watched them both go from arrogant jerks to squirming and nervous boys in a matter of seconds under your best parental glare. "Wilson? Spill it."

"There's nothing to spill-"

"Barnes?" you turned to him with clenched teeth and a limited amount of patience. If he had been squirming in his chair before, he was practically uncontrolled in his attempt at discomfort now.

"Would you really turn us down if we asked you for help with a baby?' he blurted out so quickly that the words ran together, immediately closing his eyes tightly with a small groan escaping his throat. They had agreed to never ask the question aloud, and here it was, spilling out as the dam broke, like he had absolutely no self-control at all under your pressure. He had promised Steve that he wouldn't bring it up with him again, and that he wouldn't dare actually ask you, but that promise held about as much truth as your insistence that Steve wasn't whipped. "Shiiiit."

"Jesus, man," Sam hissed, slapping a frustrated hand on his thigh before leaning against it, head in hand, "we talked about this like an hour ago."

Bucky stood up right away, his hands out as if he could pluck the words out of the air around them, helplessly looking at you and hoping that you hadn't heard him. "Baby, I didn't mean that for real, okay? It's just been on my mind a lot lately and it slipped. Please, forget I said anything."

"Is...is that what you want?" you asked quietly. "Sam?"

"Yeah, but not from you, alright?" he joined in, rising to stand next to Bucky. "There are so many other options, and we know that you've done more than enough for Clint and Nat. It's ridiculous for us to even think about asking you. We promised that we wouldn't, so we're not, okay? Someone just has no damn filter," he turned with a sharp poke of his finger into Bucky's shoulder.

"Okay," you nodded absentmindedly, now lost in what had just come to light. "Um...you know what? I think I'm just gonna head to bed too...so I'll talk to you guys tomorrow. Night," you said, leaving a quick kiss on their cheeks before turning away. It wasn't that the moment had become uncomfortable, but you couldn't stay there another minute. Deep down, you knew that you would likely give in and help them if they truly asked, because they were your best friends and you'd do anything for them. You also knew that Steve would be completely averse to it, and you understood that, too; your lives were just getting back to normal when everything began to unravel. With the future so vague and uncertain, it was best to just turn and run before you had a chance to say anything more.

Returning to the children, you pushed the door of the med bay open, only to be halted, breathless at the sight of Anthony sitting straight up on his bed and staring directly at you as if he had been waiting for your arrival. The darkness of the room around him left an unsettling glow in his eyes as he watched you approach. His body was rigid, his movements purposeful but forced, as if he were still in his mind, trying to fight back to regain control.

"Ant?"

"You will assist," he spoke flatly, "or you will watch the death of all that you love. We will start with this one."

Anthony's spine bent awkwardly, and his head hung back, leaving his throat exposed and a struggled gurgle behind his breaths. His eyes were still fixed forward, and he wasn't trying to fight it, even when you reached out to grab him. "Anthony!" you called out, but his body wouldn't move. "Stop it," you begged, weakened in your resolve to fight, "please, leave him alone."

"You will assist," he repeated, a quieting of his struggle so that he could sit up straight with his stare fixed on you again, "and you will bring the time stone to us. These children are not strong enough to obtain it on their own, so you will complete the task that they cannot. In return, we offer a kindness. We will wait until you look away before taking their souls."