Once the service had finished and the guests went home, it was time to put Tony to rest. You, Steve, and your three children joined Pepper, asking that everyone else make their way home so that this final moment could be kept as private as possible. Vision had made the kind offer to stay and guard a perimeter around the area to ensure that reporters and gawkers were kept clear, and from the looks of it as you arrived, he was doing a remarkable job. There was no one to be seen in any direction from where you stood.

The air held a chill, and the sky had begun to darken with a haze of dusk, as if the world around you knew just how tired you were; as if it knew that you were barely holding yourself up under your own strength. You had spent hours of the last few days in bed, keeping life away, and your body knew it. It was addicting to feel nothing, and every muscle in your body was begging you to take a hit just to be numb for a little bit longer.

Steve, in comparison, was struggling with a different problem; his muscles were filled with energy and ached for a release of the tension that had built up to the point of pain that stifled his movement like the arthritis he had felt when the serum began to fail. He wasn't worried that this what was happening again. He knew it was merely his anxiety, but he couldn't shake away the sensation in his shoulder where Tony's casket had rested as he carried him here. Steve worried that the feeling might never abate, but then as he considered it, he began to fear that it would.

He started to worry that he would forget.

"Hey," you whispered, breaking his concentration, "you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh...yeah, doll, I'm fine," he smiled weakly. As if he had somehow forgotten where he was and what his responsibilities were, he looked at you wide-eyed, almost apologetically for letting his mind wander away from you. "Are you? Anything you need me to do? Do you need to sit down? You look a little worn out."

"No, I can make it. Don't worry about me, Steve. We're all in this, remember?"

"I remember. But I'm not about to pretend that this isn't the hardest on you, and you shouldn't either. I can be strong for you, honey. Let me."

"What did you say?" you asked, shocked at his choice in wording.

"That I can be strong for you? Why?"

"That's what Dad said to me in his letter," you answered softly, your voice trembling from both nerves and the cold filling your lungs. "He said to let you be strong for me and that I can let go."

"He was right."

"Pfft, what did he know? You saw what happened when I did," you argued, "I destroyed our room in the ten minutes it took you to talk to Nick. I snapped and I barely remember what I did. No...I think it's best that I keep things to myself for now. I think it's safer for everyone."

Steve didn't feel like this was the place to argue about it, but he definitely wasn't about to let this go so easily. As he filed that memory away, he watched along with the other five of you as the cemetery workers finished packing down the final mounds of fresh earth, smoothing out the surface so that fresh grass could be planted in it the next morning. Each man then gave him a subtle salute as they walked away, leaving you all in silence and uncertainty as to how life was supposed to go on from here.

"I'm going into the city to take care of some things at HQ," Pepper announced quietly. "I think I'll probably stay down there for a few days before I come back to the compound to clear out some of my things."

"Pep, you don't have to move out," you insisted, "this is still your family. We want you to stay...unless you don't want to?"

"It's not that I don't want to. I don't know if I can, (Y/N)."

It was so hard to know what to say to her, because you were feeling the same. You wanted to go back to the compound, but at the same time you couldn't get far enough away. Every inch of the place was Tony, and there was nowhere to hide from it. You had yet to set even one foot into the hallway that led to his office, but it was inevitable that you would have to do it soon. He would hate it so much if you left that room to exist as a shrine of any kind; sure, he had enough narcissism in him to maybe entertain the idea, but he would never want it to really play out. Steve had promised to help you with the task, and despite his determination to be there for you, it was obvious that he wanted nothing to do with the task either.

"I understand," you finally spoke again, "and honestly, we're not sure about staying either. But, that's a conversation for another time. Just tell me what you need, okay? Don't ever be afraid to come to us for anything. Don't disappear, please."

"I won't," she smiled, closing her eyes to try to push her tears back. She reached out and gave a hug to each of you before turning towards Tony one more time, one final time, saying something under her breath that you couldn't hear and didn't want to. As soon as she made her way to the car where Happy was waiting, you turned to Steve.

"Can I have a few minutes?"

"Of course," he nodded, "I'll just take the kids to the car. Take as long as you need, honey."

Poor Steve, you thought, he has no idea that there would never be long enough, and that you had no idea what you needed. The one constant thing that you could hold on to now, was the certainty that you might never know.

~~~

Back at the compound, as your family was taking their solitude at the cemetery, the team had gathered together on their own, unplanned but silently agreed upon as each of them entered the building. One by one they filtered into the lounge, most of them taking the opportunity to stop by the bar before filling up the couches and chairs. They allowed the younger children to join them, finding no reason to not let them; Tony had been a part of every year of their lives.

No one wanted to speak first, if at all. Sam and Bucky sat on one of the smaller couches with Becca lying across their laps, her head rested against Bucky's chest while he finished his drink. Clint and Nat sat with Allie and Nik on the floor at their feet, while Vision and Wanda sat slightly apart from the group with William, though his eyes were trained on Becca and wanting to be at her side to help her with the guilt she had to be feeling.

"Dad," he whispered, "I need to go talk to Becca, is that okay?"

"Of course, son," Vision agreed, along with a nod from Wanda, "take the time you need."

William stood and crossed the room quietly, feeling awkward for the first time with the group as they watched him move. He had no idea what he was going to say to her, but he could feel that to not go to her would be wrong, even if all he could manage would be to just stay close. "Hey, Becs?"

Bucky's stature straightened almost protectively, not sure why other than that he and Sam had been keeping a trained eye on the young man ever since he had volunteered to go to Xavier's with their equally young daughter. He helped her stand to meet the boy, clearing his throat of the emotions he had held back all day before he spoke. "Go ahead," he nodded towards the exit, "but be up to your room for bed in ten minutes, alright?"

"Okay, Dad," she agreed. She took William's hand and led him towards the dining room, refusing to sit. Instead she held herself up against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly over her chest. It wasn't a conscious choice to keep him shut out, though it appeared to be, and the discomfort between them was new and confusing.

"Becs, this wasn't your fault. I can see in it your face that you think it is. Uncle Tony made this decision on his own."

"Yeah, because I was killing Uncle Steve and my dad."

"Hey, he talked to you about that, remember? Did you not hear a word that he said?"

"I did, Will, but I still can't help it. This is all just so...sad," she sighed heavily, "and it wasn't Aunt (Y/N)'s fault that she gave me this, because it wasn't her choice either. Wow," she scoffed, "listen to me. Whining about feeling guilty when I haven't even stopped to think about how she feels. She lost her dad, and I got to keep mine."

William furrowed his brow as he listened, wishing that there was something he could say...some magical words to make both of you feel better, but he wasn't exactly good at this stuff. His mom had always tried to help him tap into his emotional side, but he picked up more of his father's characteristics as the years passed. He reached out to put a supportive hand over hers, but he pulled back. "I think maybe you should talk to her," he offered. "I don't think that either of you are gonna be okay around each other until you do. This is too heavy to do on your own, Becs."

"Maybe...I don't know."

"Yeah, well...maybe I do."