The next part finishes the series...for good this time.

Two weeks later, Becca still had yet to talk to you. In those two weeks, barely anyone had seen you in the light of day, so it wasn't exactly her fault that you hadn't connected.

It was just so much easier in the solitude of your room, under your blankets, where the monsters couldn't reach you. Tony would say that monsters didn't exist and that you were being silly by hiding from an idea, and a bad one at that, but the monster you were hiding from was him. If he were here now you'd give him so much shit for that, proving that your childhood fears were realized through him when he was the one denying them.

Steve had no idea what to do to help you, other than his usual methods of staying back and clear of conflict that would only make you feel worse. It never worked, so he wasn't really sure as to why he clung to the failed attempts so readily, but it at least succeeded in not causing any arguments that no one needed right now. It was becoming a bit troublesome to him, though, that you were holed up in your room for a straight two weeks without so much as one step beyond it. He considered calling your old therapist for guidance, but that would be breaking a trust and he hadn't reached the breaking point just yet.

It was on the first day of the third week since the funeral that he had finally decided to make a move and to talk to you about getting you back into the world. Each morning when he woke, he swore that he could hear Tony yelling at him to get your ass in gear and get you back to life. Maybe it was more that he wanted to hear it, or that his grief had finally peaked into hallucinations from extreme loss. Either way, here your husband stood, on the other side of the door with a meticulously folded letter in hand, his entire body shaking at the idea of what seeing it might do to you. This could be the answer to bring you to life, or it could shut you down forever.

~~~

Steve,

I've known (Y/N) since she was five-years-old. There were so many days when it was just (Y/N) and I against the world. Then there were days that were against each other, but I suppose that I have myself to blame for that more than anyone, and in her defense I'm a handful. You knew that though, huh? But even during the days that she and I were at our worst, I would give her the world just to get a minute of happiness out of her. I never thought that this would be where you came in.

You and I haven't always been on the best terms, and we got off to a pretty terrible start. It stayed rough for a while, really, and I take responsibility for being a big part of that. Then it got better...then a little worse...then better again, but it still amazes me that we kept coming back to try to make this shit show of a friendship work. Of course, once I introduced you to her there was no way in hell that you'd be leaving after that. Man, you were so gone right from day one. Scared me to death, you know that? I barely liked you, and here she was giving you the love eyes after one day. I can never say no to the kid, so I had to learn to like you pretty quick.

Still took my time about it.

But then you'd do something for her that blew me away, and then you'd screw it up again only to do something amazing right before screwing it up one more time. I swear, I've been on rollercoasters that made me less nauseated than the ride you two have been on. Wouldn't you figure though, you guys decided to pop out a few adorable grandkids and I was immediately indebted to you. I've watched you be the best dad to those three, and I am just so proud of you. I hope that doesn't sound condescending, but it's true. I didn't know your dad, but I feel safe saying that he'd be proud of the man you are. I'm proud of you, Steve. I'm proud to have called you my son-in-law.

I'm gonna need you to be strong when this explodes, okay? She's tough, but this might be too much. She'll be mad at me. She'll be mad at herself. She'll just be...mad. But that's how we know she's hurting, and I'm counting on you to recognize it and be there for her when I can't.

You're a good man, Cap. You're one of the best I've ever known, and I love you. Don't cringe...I can see it. Just say you love me too.

Say it. I might be watching, you don't know. Okay, I'm probably not. I'm sure I have way better things to be figuring out in the afterlife than waiting for you to just admit that you love me because I already know that you do.

Just take care of my girl, Steve.

Tony

~~~

"What are you doin', Cap?"

"Hmm?" he jolted, looking up from his hands nervously. "Oh, hey, Barton. Well, I just like to spend a few minutes each day staring at my door. Really helps to clear the mind, this...uh...grey-ish color...very relaxing."

"Right," Clint answered skeptically, "but that's not grey. That's blue."

"No, it's grey."

"Yep, except that it's blue."

"Really?" Steve continued, leaning in closer to the door with a squint. "I swear, all I see is grey."

"Are you colorblind?"

"No, of course...not..." he stopped, eyes widening as he looked at his friend. "I used to be. You don't think that's left over from the ruined serum? Wouldn't I have noticed by now?"

Clint smiled widely and gave him a firm slap on his shoulder, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest, "yeah, you would've. You also would've realized that I'm giving you shit to distract you so I can sneak in here. It's grey. Is (Y/N) in there?"

"She is, but now I don't know if you deserve to go in."

"I'll take my chances, Cap, thanks," he answered, pushing past him to open your door very slowly and carefully. He had made it a couple of steps in when he announced himself as to not startle you. The room was shroud in nearly complete darkness, and you always had sharp reflexes when snuck up on. Your lack of movement at his arrival left him nervous and understanding that he really had his work cut out for him. "Hey, honey, it's me. Mind if I come in?"

It certainly wasn't the voice you were expecting to hear. With a low groan, you pushed your body to roll over, pulling the blanket back just enough so that he could see your face in the dim light of the room. A thin line of light caught his features just enough for you to see the look of pity that he was wearing and that you wanted nothing to do with. Clint was not a man to ever offer it to you before, and you were disgusted that he would think you needed it. "What do you want, Barton?"

"Oh, you know, just swinging by with the good 'ol Barton pep talk."

"Not that again-"

"Hey, those are some of my best work!"

"Your judgment is askew," you snapped, rolling back over and away, "but if you're here to get me on my feet again, I've heard that one before. My legs work just fine this time."

He had yet to fully shut the door, allowing a quick glance back at your husband before finally pushing it closed behind him and crossing the room towards you. Yeah, he was here to play the tough guy once again, since it had actually worked pretty well for you before, but once he saw your face and the utter vacancy in your eyes, Clint began to wonder if anyone would be able to draw you out from your self-induced hell this time. "Can I sit by you?"

"It's a big bed, Barton. I sleep by Steve."

"Valid point," he nodded, plopping down with too much energy for your liking. "Okay, so let's have it. What magical words do I need to say to get you going again this time?"

"Your dad's alive and it was all just a sick joke."

"I can't say that, sweetheart."

Your only response was silence, because there was nothing more that would have been true. He didn't deserve for you to lie to him, and you were done lying to yourself.

"What I can say," he continued, "is that you're still alive. Your husband is outside right now with no idea how he can help you and it's eating away at him to not know. The two of you know each other better than any of us and he's at a total loss. He has his own pain too, (Y/N), and you're his strength beyond whatever juice they pumped into him to give him that unbelievable body of his."

"Should I stand aside for you two?"

"Shut up," he nudged you with his elbow playfully. "Listen, your kids have been talking to all of us, trying to understand their own pain, but they're worried about you. In case you've forgotten, you have a son who just got married and is learning how to be someone's partner, another son who is thinking about leaving his team to be closer to you again, and a daughter who is scared out of her mind because she's going to be a mom soon. She's terrified that she won't have you to help her through this, (Y/N), and dammit, I know that you would never want to not be there for any of them."

"Jesus, Clint," you hissed, throwing the blankets back angrily and sitting up to face him, "you're going with guilt? You're really using tearing me apart as your method? Am I not destroyed enough for you?"

"That's my point, (Y/N)! You're not destroyed! If you were, that wouldn't have pissed you off! Yeah, this hurts like a son of a bitch and it's going to, but you're not done! You and I both know that Tony would be angry beyond belief if he saw you doing this right now! He would never want this because of him! He did what he did because he wanted your life to continue with Steve and this is how you repay that?"

"Are you kidding me?!"

"(Y/N), I'm not telling you to stop grieving, okay?" he said, trying to calm his tone. "You're going to be feeling this for a really long time. We all are. All that I'm asking is that you don't forget that you still have a life outside that door. You have so many people out there who love you and just might be able to help. Stop trying to do shit on your own, because honestly, honey, you suck at it."

"Pfft," you scoffed, looking away, "I forgot that blunt honesty was your weapon of choice, Barton."

"Damn right. I'm always honest."

You furrowed your brow and turned back to him, a hint of a restrained smile forcing its way through, "honest thief."

"Still honest though," he shrugged. When he felt the shift in tone, Clint quickly moved closer to put his arm around you, but rather than accepting the gesture as it was, it made you crumble completely into him, finally allowing yourself to let go like Tony had asked you too. Even if only for a few minutes before facing life again against your own will. "I've got you."

"I know."

"We all do, (Y/N)."

"I know that, too. It's just...it's too much."

A gentle knock came from the other side of the door just before it cracked open slightly, with Steve peeking through once he heard you crying and couldn't keep away. "Barton?" he whispered. His friend's nod of approval led him inside and to take his place, sitting next to you. "Thank you, Clint," he whispered as his friend took his leave, "again."

Steve couldn't help but to feel complete relief that you were letting him hold you like he had been wanting to. He was so worried that you would retreat like you had done before, and he wouldn't blame you. Tony had given himself so that he could survive, and he had his own guilt about that beyond the anger you must be feeling towards him for it. It terrified him that from now on, every time you looked at him, you would see this loss over and over again.

All he could do now is what Tony had asked of him. Be strong, and take care of his girl.