"Mommmmmmm! Dad said shit!"

"You seriously did not just call me out, kid," Tony groaned, leaning back in his chair alongside the lake behind your home, his hands covering his eyes as if he could hide behind them somehow. "I can't believe it. My own child. I thought we had an understanding."

"You have to put a quarter in the jar now!"

"Is that my worth now?" he smirked at Morgan. "My life for a mere twenty-five cents?"

"That's not very much?"

Tony heard you approaching, your feet crunching the leaves as you moved and not allowing any chance to sneak up on them. His eyes widened in fear, a little of it playful as he looked at Morgan, but there was a fair amount that was true; he leveled his chair again and pushed up to stand, only to be forced back down as your hand firmly landed on his shoulder to keep him there. "Run, baby," he told his little girl, turning to glance up at you as she followed his direction, laughing to fill the air around you both before diving into her tent. "Hey, honey..." he greeted quietly, "what's up?"

"I hear there's some shit going on out here."

"Hmm, that can't be right. Where'd you hear that?"

"A little birdie told me. Loudly."

"I think that maybe the little birdie is full of sh-"

"Honey," you blocked him, calling out to your daughter, "it's time for lunch! Come on, Morgan, wash up!"

A tiny hand poked out from the cloth that laid gently to make the tent doors, followed by an equally little head covered in a helmet that was far too large for her size, looking almost too heavy for her to keep upright. "Define lunch or be disintegrated."

"Woah, where'd you get that?" Tony stood quickly, picking her up and facing you. "That's a very expensive gift that I was making for Mommy. Not that she's ever going to wear it."

With a deep sigh, you turned back towards the house, shaking your head at the sight of your two favorite people thinking there was absolutely nothing wrong with the idea of already mapping out your daughter's first suit. It wasn't worth the fight here, but you would definitely be having the conversation later, in private, so Morgan wouldn't have to see the epic loss her father would absolutely be handed. Tony's days were now filled with the joy of making her smile, even at the dumbest things, but the loving look on her face was something that he would never get used to, and never believe that he deserved.

You had almost made it to the door when something caught your eye, just in your periphery, catching Tony's attention at the same time.

"No," you greeted your guests sharply, hurrying towards them before they could get far from their vehicle. "Rogers, get back in that damn car and drive away. We don't want to hear anything you have to say because it never ends with anything good. That look on your face is giving it away, not to mention that Nat looks like she's been crying the whole way here."

"It's good to see you too, (Y/N)," he answered. "But I think before you make up your mind-"

"We made it up five years ago, Steve. We're done." You paused and looked to Nat, only to turn your attention quickly to the unassuming man standing behind her. "Who's this guy?"

"I'm...I'm Scott," he answered shyly, but a little shocked at your poor recollection. "You don't remember me? We met in Germany. I was the little guy? Then the really big guy?" He tried, hands out and eyes wide in disbelief. "You got me orange slices!"

"Oh, right, Bug Boy."

"Ant...A-ant Man."

"Same difference."

"Sweetheart, you good?" Tony called out to you from the porch. "Morgan can find the rest of your suit if you need it?"

Steve looked up for the first time now that he heard his former friend, not sure if that title would hold at all now. He needed him, desperately, if there would be any chance to get their friends and families back after so long. He knew that he had to put differences aside and would do so willingly; he just wasn't sure that Tony felt the same way. He was taken aback by the sight of Stark with a child in his arms though, and his heart stung and ached; he was happy for him, truly, but he was filled with an uncomfortable jealously at the same time.

"Cap," Tony nodded, holding a stoic posture to match the man.

"Tony."

Natasha has stepped up next to you, her hand sliding into yours naturally, as it always had when the two of you were close. You were right when you said it had looked like she was crying, but it wasn't on the way there; it was a daily occurrence that had left her with a sadness that she couldn't shake. "This looks good on you, (Y/N). I'm happy for you."

"Then why do you look like you've forgotten how to feel it?"

"Come on," she sighed, pulling you gently towards the house, "that's why we're here. We may have found something...a chance. But that depends on what Tony can tell us."

~~~

Tony had flat out refused to let you go along with the team, searching the past for the Infinity Stones, giving himself a little solace to know that he could use your child to his benefit for something real this time, not just to win backyard arguments that kind of brightened his day. It wasn't that he didn't want you there, because he did. So, so much. You were his stability and his sanity, and in a mission like this there was too much riding on both. He was much the same to you, and you had only barely realized the depth of that, even in your years together.

When the time would come for you to see him again, only the very next day, it was in the face of his most important mission, but one that he was born into. You fought at his side, much to his shock as you appeared in front of him with the very suit he claimed that you would never wear. You crossed paths several times in the battle, each time stopping for just a second to acknowledge each other in case the next time would be at the loss of the other.

You should've known that even a newly saved universe would allow you only so many favors in one day. You burned it into your mind to remember to make the universe pay for not allowing you just one more.

But for now, you had only one thought. One thought driving your bruised and battered body forward over the charred earth and remnants of the building that you had called your home for so many years. That felt like a lifetime ago now, having been gone for the last five of them to live your new life of domesticity, but it didn't diminish the sense of responsibility to protect it when hell crashed down upon it. Crawling over bodies of people you would never know and would never be able to thank for the fight they gave on this day and crawling through the dusty remains of your enemy as they faded away into nothing, only one thought kept you moving rather than just passing out as your body so desperately wanted.

Where is Tony?

"We won. We won, Mr. Stark."

A small crowd of your teammates, both past and present, began to gather near what was left of Scott's van, and you knew what you were walking into. You knew before you saw him. You felt it in your soul that every footstep was leading you to something that would destroy you without hesitation. The loss of this chosen soulmate would be so much more devastating than the day you lost the one that had just reappeared from nothing and was watching you now, waiting for the pain he was about to share with you against his will. Even after the insane battle he just fought, this is what finally scared him.

When you finally saw him and helped Peter stand, barely able to hold himself up, you weren't sure if it was a conscious choice to lower yourself to your knees or if they simply gave out and dropped you in front of your nightmare head on.

"Hey," you whispered to Tony, doing your best to be strong, to hide what you knew he could see despite your efforts. Maybe it was more for you than him anyway.

"Hey...(Y/N)." He tried so hard to return a smile, he gave it all he had, doing the exact same thing you were. Being strong when he knew that you weren't buying it at all. You could see that he wanted to blink away the few tears that were building up and ready to spill, but he just didn't have the strength anymore. His posture shifted and he turned away but you refused to let him. Now wasn't the time to shift the relationship dynamic after all these years; now was the time for honesty, but damn if it wasn't a struggle to give it to him.

"Tony. Tony, look at me."

When he followed your request and gave you a final look, you nearly lost your resolve and broke down, but you couldn't do that to him. You couldn't let him go with that last picture of you being one that could hurt him even more than the snap of that goddamn gauntlet had already.

"We're gonna be okay. You can rest now. Tell Nat we won."

Bucky hurried to your side, not a care to anyone else or what they would think. It wasn't even a conscious choice, his body just took over and moved him towards you. Steve stepped out with an extended hand to...what? To stop him? He pulled away as he realized how ludicrous that sounded and how dare he even consider it in the first place. Of course Bucky would respond and go to you. No one in this massive group of returned humanity could possibly realize how you were feeling in this moment; no one other than Bucky because even he couldn't fight this strong and immediate of a connection that slammed his mind. Despite the fallacy of composure that you were projecting, when your emotions were uncontrolled like this, raging and churning your mind and body, that's when the two of you found each other the easiest.

"I'm right here," he whispered, sitting close but taking care to not touch you. "I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to, okay?"

"Go away."

"Honey," he answered, equally as quiet but his voice was surprisingly filled with so much more pain than yours, "(Y/N), come on-"

"Go. Away. Now. Please."

Bucky was about to continue his argument, certain that you couldn't mean the words that your voice carried without emotion; you were in shock. But then, as you turned to face him, his breath caught in his throat and he reflexively stepped back at the sight of a person he suddenly no longer knew. "(Y/N), please. Don't do this."

"Don't do what?" you whispered, your voice already denying you. "What do you think I'm gonna do?"

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

"Neither do I."

"That's what scares me, doll."

"Don't call me that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. Just a habit."

"Please...please go away, Buck. I can't..."

He wanted to say more, to draw you out and let you see that his intentions were honest and you were the only one there who mattered to him in this moment that was destroying him to watch. If he hurt this much, you had to be so far beyond that, and to know that he wasn't feeling your full connection to each other made him sad. But then, as if you knew his mind that well and what he was thinking, you began to pull away from it until there was suddenly just...nothing.

Nothing but a stabbing, ripping burn began in his chest that nearly knocked him to the ground. You sat composed and blank while he was in agony at your side, now the one to need you. "No," he panted desperately, taking Steve's hand of support as he rushed to help. "(Y/N), don't leave me. Don't shut me out."

"I've learned to live without you for the last five years. Learned how to live while you were dead. Tony got me through it. You'll figure it out."

"But you're not dead."

"Yes I am."

You couldn't give him any more of your attention when this moment would be the last with Tony; it didn't matter that he was gone and that when you looked at him now there was no warmth radiating back anymore, no recognition, no words spoken in a look from across a crowded room, no love that always told you that no matter what happened or what was said, the love wouldn't change. It didn't matter that he couldn't take your hand and pull you to him, gently telling you that things would be okay now and you could finally go home.

Things would never be okay.

"(Y/N)," Bucky pulled you from your thoughts, though your gaze never left Tony, "please. You're not able to think clearly. We want to help you. I'm so, so sorry that Tony's gone, but no, you're not dead. You know that he didn't do this just for you to stop living. You need to come back from this for Morgan, you need to get her through this too. Please, let me help, don't lock me out. Is that what he'd want? For you to feel like you died too?"

"But...I just did," you mumbled under your breath. "Do you know how it felt?"

You still refused to look his way as you completed the break, once and for all. He didn't deserve it, and if you were in your right state of mind you'd never do this to him, but you were far from sanity and drifting out to a black sea of grief with nothing to take hold of. Even as Bucky offered himself as safety, you had never felt more lost. Keeping your eyes on Tony and the horrific vacancy his own gaze was returning, you finally set Bucky free, and it dropped him to his knees despite the locked grip Steve kept on his hand as he tried to help him stay on his feet.

"It felt like that."