Steve insisted on being alone after the long, confusing, and crushing burden was left on his shoulders when Bruce and the other doctors left his hospital room. You wanted to stay at his side, to be the rock you had always been for him, but he wouldn't hear it; or rather, he couldn't. His mind was jumbled and spinning, and if he couldn't give you the attention that the moment deserved, then he wanted to just be left alone.

Steve was a man of action; put nearly any problem in front of him and he was immediately set into motion to find an answer. Every situation that he had ever faced was taken on in a welcome challenge and performed with a little too much enjoyment at times, but that's just who Steve was. He was Captain America, after all, and to not give a challenge everything he had didn't fit the role at all. But this...this was something he hadn't faced before; at least not in the same way. This was different, and ominous, and terrifying. He just didn't know how to admit that to you. He could barely even admit that to himself.

Maybe he was on the right track with having some time alone. There was nothing more to be done overnight, so your teammates and family began to make their way back to the compound, but before Anthony got very far you stopped him with a request that you knew he wouldn't turn down.

"Ant, can you ride home with your grandpa? I'd like to borrow your car for a while, if you don't mind."

"Sure," he answered cautiously, "but are you okay? Is it a good idea-"

"I just need to drive for a while," you reassured, albeit flatly and dodging his gaze, "I want some time to work through my thoughts and the quiet will help. I promise, that's all."

Your son nodded in agreement, glancing over his shoulder to Esihle to get her agreement as well. It wouldn't have changed his mind if she hadn't agreed, but he still wanted to keep her involved nonetheless, since she hadn't left his side once since arriving there. He searched his pockets for his keys, almost taking obviously longer than needed; you could sense that he was apprehensive, and when his eyes met Tony's, it was barely even hidden from you. "Yeah, Mom, sure. Here you go."

"Hey, are you sure that's a good idea-"

"Dad, not you too," you groaned, taking the keys with a harsh swipe of your hand, "I'm a grown up, okay? Just do me a favor, please, and turn of the tracker in my phone and on the car."

"Why?"

"So that I don't have you all breathing down my neck the whole time. Please, Dad, I'm fine. You can trust me."

Tony stared at you for a few seconds longer, his eyes searching your expression for any hint that you might be lying to him, even though he didn't believe that you actually were. He could count the number of times that you had ever lied to him on one hand, and it was nowhere near full. "Sweetheart, you shouldn't be fine," he lowered his voice to a whisper, taking a step closer, "this has been a really shitty day, and no one expects you to be some pillar of strength for everyone. It's okay to need us."

"What I need," you answered in a much harsher whisper that took him aback, "is for you to cut the damn trackers and leave me alone."

~~~

"Captain Rogers, we can take over."

Bruce cautiously moved next to Steve and put his hand on top of his, keeping it there as his compressions continued. "Steve, it's okay," he reassured quietly, but his efforts to keep your heart beating went on without pause. Bruce turned to Clint and gave a nod, with immediate understanding as he ran from the room. Seconds later, Bucky and Sam appeared and flanked him at either side.

"Steve, stop."

"Come on, Cap. You've done enough."

"She can't," he mumbled, the fatigue beginning to show in him.

"She won't, Steve. But you need to let them work," Bucky said quietly, putting a hand on Steve's arm, only to find it brushed off angrily. "Steve, don't make us do this." When he didn't respond, Bucky pointed Clint to Sam's side and moved in; Bucky took Steve's arms with the other two holding his legs.

"Get off me!" Steve hollered, trying to fight them off but too tired to put up his usual amount of fight. "I can't leave her!" He continued to struggle until they finally had pulled him out of the room and the doctors had taken you out of his line of sight. When they released him, he stumbled back against the wall and slid to the floor, panting and staring at his shaking hands. "Buck..."

"We'll stay right here with you, for as long as it takes, okay?" Bucky said, taking a seat in front of his friend, with Sam taking his place next to him so both men were blocking his route to the door.

Tony had told you about that day a few times, helping you to put together the pieces of a broken memory when Steve refused to bring it up or discuss it ever again. It was too painful for him, after being torn apart only to have you back, and to nearly lose you again all in the span of less than 24 hours. It was all too much, and between the sounds and feel of your ribs cracking under his hands, he was terrified that the last sensation of you he would have would be to feel your last breath beneath them as well. He was terrified that he wouldn't be enough.

As you drove away from the hospital where Steve would spend the night, you turned towards your home in Brooklyn to grab a few things, but you never made it over the bridge. The house wasn't home without Steve there, and you couldn't face a night without him in the bed next to you. Even your room at the compound would feel empty, and you decided it best to just drive until the sun came up rather than to face what could become an inevitability that could destroy you.

The moon was full in the night sky, and the stars became more vibrant with each mile you drove away from the city. You glanced back every few minutes or so, but the view in front of you was so much calmer; there was a peace in the darkness and a mystery in not knowing for sure where you were going, but it all still wasn't enough to keep yourself from reliving moments that were more than welcome to disappear.

"Hey, baby," Steve whispered, stroking your hair gently while watching for any sign that you were waking up, "I'm here. You really scared me, you know? I'd like you to stop that now. Captain's orders," he choked out, his voice beginning to fail him again with the scratchy familiarity of crying. His right hand shifted from yours and moved to the center of your chest where he had pushed against it, trying to feel the damage he had done. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he sniffled quietly, rubbing a hand across his face as he watched your chest rise and fall with the ventilator.

"I need you to do something for me, (Y/N)," he continued with a furrowed brow, trying to choose his words carefully. "I'm gonna need you to pull through this, alright? I need you to tell me when I'm not making you feel like you're the most important person in my life. Because I don't ever want you to feel like you're not, okay? I need you to pull through this so I can start right now."

"Dammit," you hissed to yourself, gripping the steering wheel and slamming on the brakes in the middle of a quiet road that led to who-knows-where. The tires squealed to a halt, leaving a dark trail of skid marks behind you and an eerie silence when the dust settled. This drive was supposed to clear your mind, not muddle it up even more, and you were only growing more frustrated. With a heavy sigh, you lowered your forehead against the leather of the wheel and closed your eyes, desperate to get a single thread of thought out of the mess your brain was in.

"I'm gonna need you to pull through this too, Steve," you whispered to yourself. "We don't give up on each other in this family, and I'm not about to be the one to start now."

But all that your comment did was get your memory churning more, and into depths that belonged to not only Steve, but Tony as well. Depths were your tumultuous history together was long-since buried and yearning to be forgotten. The love between Steve and Tony was a hard sell for many years, and was never fully stable even now. As you began to drive again, you looked at the gear shift and couldn't help but smile at the Stark insignia on it; it was a symbol of Tony, but also the strength in the name itself. It was a name that you hadn't thought was your own for a long time, and when it came to light that you were Tony's biological child, Steve never once faltered in his support of you.

When flashes of memory began to cloud your vision, you had to pull the vehicle over to catch your breath amidst the waves of emotion that were shifting with each one. You began to wonder if maybe your father was right, and this drive really was a bad idea after all.

"I'm sorry, but when exactly were you going to tell me that Tony Stark was going to be my father-in-law?"

"(Y/N), listen to me," Tony began quietly, "I need you to know that there was never a day that I didn't want you with me. Yes, we had a rough start, and maybe even a really rough middle, but at the end of every day, my last thought was always about you, no matter where you were. You didn't deserve a mother like this, or a father like me, but look at what you've made your life to be in spite of that. I know that I could have done so much better for you, but, (Y/N), even with everything that I've done in my life," he sighed, "what is, and always will be my greatest creation, is you."

"Well, if you like the guy, then I suppose I can give him a shot. Don't get your hopes up, kiddo. I never could stand him. He's all that Dad ever talked about, and how he was some goddamn miracle. He would've traded me for Rogers in a heartbeat."

"You know something, Tony? Maybe if you let go of your ego for one goddamn second and had a conversation with (Y/N) beyond telling her what to do, you'd see things differently."

And then it happened; a vision in a train of thought that came from nowhere exactly when it needed to. Maybe it wasn't the answer you needed, but then again, maybe it was. There was no time for overthinking and second-guessing anymore. You spun the car around and changed direction, the engine screaming as you floored the pedal to get to the one person who held even a remote chance of helping you now.

"When Barnes retrieved the serum from your father in 1991, a portion of it was segregated and held for experimentation, and she's a product of that work. Whose DNA would be better to mix that with than a Stark? Hydra has never been a fan of the name, as you can imagine."

"Does Steve know?"

Nick simply shrugged and gave a faint smile, though he felt no joy in the news he had just delivered. "I think that's a question for him, but between you and me, I have a pretty strong suspicion that he does."

~~~

When the rest of your teammates and family arrived back at the compound, they were immediately met with wide and curious eyes filled with worry for the fate of their father and uncle. When the kids didn't see you or Steve emerge from the several cars as they parked, it only incited further anxiety, and Tony was barely through the door from the garage before they were ambushing him for information.

"Grandpa, where's my dad?" Brooke began, but was quickly overtaken by Allie and Nik.

"Is Uncle Steve okay? Where is he?"

"Uncle Tony, you don't look good, maybe you should sit down," Becca offered, but before she could turn to get him a chair, William had passed through the wall and into the next room, returning the same way with one in hand.

Tony looked relieved at the sensation of allowing his body to rest; every fiber of every muscle in his body was tense, and he hadn't realized just how bad it was until he let them go. The release was a wave that he didn't expect so profoundly, and it let his guard down; he looked from one kid to the next, understanding that no matter what he said to them, it wouldn't be the explanation or hope that they wanted or needed. In all of his expansive vocabulary, there were no words to soften the blow, so he decided in that split second to just say it.

"Uncle Steve has to stay overnight for more tests," he answered so softly that he was barely heard. "His, uh...his cells aren't regenerating anymore...but they don't know why. And, uh..." he stopped, sniffling with a wipe of his sleeve over his tear-filled eyes, "guys...Steve is dying, and we don't know how long he has left."