"I feel like we're teenagers sneaking around so our parents don't find out about us."

"Bruce, that's ridiculous," Dr. Cho snickered. "We're adults. Consenting adults."

Bruce nervously chewed his lower lip, his eyes trained on the road ahead as he drove towards the compound after a lovely night away that was so desperately needed. His anxiety about having a real relationship was already hitting its peak, but to try to have a relationship while a part of this particular group added only that much more of a challenge for him to control. "But we are sneaking around. I told Barton that we were heading to your lab for supplies."

"I know, honey, but it's not our parents that we're sneaking around from. It's a group of overzealous, eavesdropping superheroes. Several of them with super hearing and a power to read minds. This takes much more skill than simply hiding from parents."

"Hmm, you've never met the parents on this team, I assume?" He smiled back. She rested her hand on her lap suggestively for him to take, easily moving so that he would catch the motion even in his peripheral vision. He smiled at the action, and her regard for how he was feeling for both the situation and for her, and he took it readily with a lift to his lips to press a kiss to her palm. "Thank you, Helen. Once again, you know what I'm feeling before I do. I'll never know how you do it."

"I'm very wise," she hummed softly.

"You're a genius."

"Takes one to love one."

There was the familiar and unwelcome rush of anxiety again, flipping Bruce's stomach over against his will. She felt his grip on her hand tighten and tried to pull back but he wouldn't let go. He had no idea why the idea of love made him so skiddish; Helen was amazing and so patient with him. He had been in love before but it hadn't ended well, and he was terrified to revisit that kind of history. But then again, time was fleeting, which this team knew all too well, and he couldn't allow himself to deny his needs anymore, no matter who found out. It was time to take chances that were out of character, and to do what made him happy before anyone else. "I love you, too."

"That's the first time we've said that."

"Yes."

"Say it again," Helen smiled softly, "I like the sound of it."

"I love you," he repeated readily, "and I don't care who knows it anymore."

"Really?"

"Really."

The rest of the drive continued on in silence, the pair each lost within their own thoughts as they considered the implications and possible repercussions of the admission, but quickly came to the realization that there were none. Everyone else on the team had found their love over the years together, and it was well beyond their turn now.

Bruce sighed discontentedly as the raise of the garage door, unwilling to accept the end of the date already, but not seeing much choice. "We really need to do this more often. We're not getting any younger."

"Speak for yourself," she huffed, "you're only as old as you feel, Bruce."

"Like I said, teenagers sneaking around." The door fully opened in front of him, but he didn't push the car forward. Instead, he kept his foot firmly on the brake and turned towards his date. "I don't want to go home just yet."

"Neither do I. What did you have in mind, Doc?"

"Well," he answered, looking at her with eyes that slowly began to darken and fill with mischief, "if we're gonna be teenagers, let's go park somewhere. I'm feeling limber."

~~~

Of all of the missions that you had been on with the Avengers, particularly those with Steve at your side, this one was by far the most nerve-wracking and completely mismanaged because no one was truly in charge. Missions generally had a commander and a second in case the primary fell, and this had become a suicide run with neither. Tony had arrived long before you and Steve could, and he had retrieved Ant, but they were both beyond any use to you now, having been battered and shredded in battle, their suits nothing more than scrap metal that slowed them down. Ant's suit was frozen in it's form around him as it malfunctioned, parts of it broken away and leaving him at the mercy of his opponent. Tony wasn't in much better shape, with the exception of still having one functional repulsor and one boot jet to limp away with.

As per usual, Steve was a determined and thick-headed, stubborn mule of a man, trying to lead a charge that had fallen before it could start. It was all you could do to stop him from running out ahead of you; clearly he had forgotten the last few days and a body that was letting him down time and time again.

"Steve! Fall back," you commanded, "we need to go! You're in no condition to fight! You were supposed to be the pilot and that's it! Get your ass on the jet!"

"They need to pay for what they did," he argued, continuing forward, pushing against your outstretched hands that tried to hold him back. "They could've killed our son. They need to pay."

"Yeah, and they will. When we attack from the damn jet," you snapped. "Why do you never listen to me! This is just like you, you know that? You don't have anything to prove, Steve! We know who you are, and what you can do, but now isn't the time because you're gonna get yourself killed!"

"Just wait for me," he angrily hissed back, his face reddened as he finally stopped and looked down to face you. "You need to learn to follow an order when you hear one."

"Excuse me? I'm not the one who isn't listening. Ant and Tony are safe on the jet. There's nothing left to do here. Standing here and arguing about it isn't doing anything but putting us in danger-"

Steve paused at the break in your words, and the furrowing of your brow in a sudden change in tone. Your eyes had lost their rage and you stared blankly at him, as if he weren't even there. "(Y/N)? What is it?"

"I...I don't feel right..." you groaned, your voice fading. A heavy, swimming weight began in your head and travelled down your spine and into your arms before landing in your chest to squeeze away your air. Your vision became spotty and dark despite the nightfall around you, and your legs grew weak enough so that you had to reach out, your hands fumbling in front of you for his hold. "Steve?"

"Honey, sit down."

"Is this what you...what y-you felt..."

"Tony!" he called out, desperate for someone to help when he couldn't find his own strength to offer you. He would have lifted you to him and sprinted to the jet, but his own failing body wouldn't have it. Steve wasn't used to feeling so helpless, and a true sense of fear threatened crippling him with each passing second. "Tony! I need help! Baby, please...sit down."

You tried to hold on, to hold his gaze just to give you something else to focus on while waiting for the terrible sensations to pass. Maybe it was just a panic attack. Maybe all of the stress of worrying about Anthony and Tony was finally catching up to you. Maybe fighting with Steve was the tipping point that finally just shut you down. Maybe it was anything else other than the obvious answer; the answer that meant that whatever took down Steve and Bucky was taking you, too. Denial was much easier than acceptance of this fate. At least until you looked down at your feet when the sensation in them died away; in fact, you couldn't feel much sensation anywhere at all anymore. "Steve...is that...from you?"

"(Y/N), you're bleeding!"

"That's a l-lot...isn't it..." you exhaled heavily, and with finality as you dropped to your knees, thankful for the strength he still had to keep you from landing on your face from blood loss from a wound you couldn't feel. He barely held you as your vision faded out once and for all, and the ringing in your ears found silence.

~~~

"No, Steve, I said go in through the northeast stairwell, fourth floor," you hissed through the comm. "If you aren't going to take my orders then why did you ask?" You spun your chair from your station at the command center towards Nick, giving him a cold glare for putting you in this position. I hate you, you silently mouthed to him before turning your attention back to Steve.

"I think I found a better way in," he finally replied. "I don't see any hostiles nearby and I have a clear run through the third floor."

"But the hostages are on five, Captain. If you go in on third there aren't any air ducts that lead to their location. You have to go in through fourth to follow the rescue plan that we've outlined for you. Your orders are to go in through the northeast stairwell, fourth floor."

"I'm already on three."

"Son of a bitch," you hissed, slamming your hand on the controls to close the line. "Fury, did you do this on purpose? Do you get some sort of sick enjoyment from watching me plot my husband's murder because he can't follow a single order when it comes from me?"

~~~

On practically the other side of the world, Bruce and Helen continued their date, driving further upstate and away from the compound; away from the reality of their lives and their jobs with the team, and just letting the night allow them the escape for a little while longer.

But Bruce couldn't shake the nagging feeling poking away at the back of his mind. Questions rolled and repeated and stole away his focus, and he couldn't stand it anymore. They had promised each other to keep work out of their dates, but it didn't take much for him to rationalize that agreement away under such desperate circumstances. "Why now?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now?" he repeated. "After all of these years, why is the serum losing its efficacy? Why Steve and Bucky at the same time, and not (Y/N)? What are we missing? Where's the trigger and who's pulling it?"

"I don't know, Bruce, maybe there isn't one."

"There has to be something. It's all just too convenient."

"Convenient?" she scoffed. "How is this in any way convenient? For who?"

"I don't know," Bruce grumbled under his breath. "Maybe it's something environmental. It still doesn't explain why (Y/N)'s been spared so far."

Helen paused and considered what he was saying, running all of the angles and options through her equally brilliant mind as she watched him drive. "They were all given different formulations of the serum, correct? Steve received a version from Howard, Bucky from Hydra, and (Y/N) from Howard and SHIELD, but many years later after several changes in the mixture."

"Right...but the base of the formula has to be the same to give them all the same results. Something has to be interfering...but what? Or who..." he paused. Now his brain had taken off into tangents so rapid-fire that he could barely track them, and he could hear his heartbeat speeding up and pounding in his head so violently that he brought the car to a fast stop just to avoid an accident.

"Honey, what is it?"

"All of these years," he began in a whisper, "they were never all together as a full group at the same time." Bruce's eyes widened as he replayed the last two decades of his memory, and realizations began to come together. "The kids, Helen. Other than Will, (Y/N) carried and delivered them all. They share powers that she gave them. What if...what if when they're all together, they create a reaction somehow? Think about it," he urged, his hands moving wildly and his features now excitedly animated, "a water bender, a pyrokinetic, a ferrokinetic, a telekinetic...just those four alone control basic elements. When you throw Will's intangibility in there, he could be throwing off the natural balance that they maintain."

"Are you suggesting that Steve and Bucky are having...like, an allergic reaction to the kids?"

"Is it so far-fetched?'

"Kind of, yeah," she smiled cautiously. "But I suppose that nothing can be eliminated without testing." Helen opened her mouth to say more, but the ringing of her phone stopped her. "Hold on, it's Tony." She brought the device to her ear, but before she could answer, he was already frantically trying to explain what was happening.

"Where are you?"

"Tony? I'm in New York working with Bruce-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt your date, but I need you at the compound. It's an emergency."

Helen looked at Bruce with eyes filled with worry, her nerves raging just from the sound of pain and terror in Stark's voice as he spoke. Bruce responded intuitively without another word, turning the car to return them both to base to meet the jet. "What happened? Is someone hurt?"

She couldn't see him, but Helen could feel the weight of the topic dragging Tony's body down, his voice so distraught and shaking that she could picture it in her mind; he was a man ready to fall into desperation, clinging to her for his life.

"It's (Y/N)," he finally whispered in a cracked tone, "she's been hurt. Helen...it's happening. She's not healing like she should be...and she's...s-she can't move. It's happening to my baby girl and I need you to fix it again. Please."