The door had been closed for over an hour and you hadn't heard a single sound from behind it; you supposed that it was a good thing, meaning that Bruce was still holding himself together, but it also meant that they must have been delving into deep territory. Banner insisted that Steve go in with him, uncharacteristic for your often private and reserved friend, but Steve would be the best to relate to what his mind was doing to him. Steve would have the empathy that Bruce needed, though he may not be consciously aware of that being why he had asked him to stay; he had asked him to be there in case he lost control.

"Ma'am, can I get you anything? Water or coffee?"

"No, thank you." You glanced at the receptionist with a small smile, nervously bouncing your leg and tapping your fingers on the arm rest of the chair. When you felt her still holding her stare on you, you realized that you were making quite the annoying sound. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'll stop. I didn't notice."

"It's okay, I've had much worse. And really, that wasn't bothering me."

"Oh, well, great," you sighed. "I just noticed that you were looking over here and I thought I was annoying you."

The young woman's cheeks began to flush having been caught staring, and she looked at you now with a slight sense of embarrassment. "Can I ask, if it's not too much trouble..."

"Did you want Steve's autograph?" you chuckled. "He always says yes, don't be scared to ask."

"Actually, I was going to ask for yours."

You had hoped your mouth wasn't hanging open as far as you thought, but you couldn't bring yourself to move from the shock that her words hit you with. "I'm sorry? Did I hear you right?"

"It's just that when you joined the Avengers you became my favorite right away," she replied, her words spilling out quickly. "When the news came out that you were with Captain America I almost died, and it was so exciting because I ship it so hard and he's my second favorite! Don't tell him that he's second though, okay? And I read that article they did on you in Time Magazine last month, talking about your accident, and then what you did for Mr. Stark? I mean, and now you're here helping Doctor Banner...it's just unbelievable. You're totally my hero."

"Wow, I just...I don't know what to say..." you paused, considering her words. "Yeah, I would be honored to give you an autograph. I have to admit though, you're my first one."

"Are you serious? I find that hard to believe, but how awesome for me!" she smiled, digging through her desk drawer for something appropriate for you to sign that wasn't just some piece of scratch paper; it had to be something worthy of your name.

You stood from your chair to go to her and reached for your cane, pausing before your hand connected with it. When you were first given it, you felt the excitement of being able to walk with only that, and what an accomplishment it was for you after so many long and grueling months of work. But now, all you could see was failure to move past it and disgust at needing it at all. With a glance to the office door and a thought of the strength of your two teammates behind it, you took the steps to her desk without it, stumbling only slightly and catching yourself on the edge just as you reached it.

"Was that the first time you walked without it?"

"Yeah, sorry that wasn't so graceful to watch," you shrugged with a small grin. "I figured I would give it a shot."

"I think you did great for your first effort, really. You'll be back in battle in no time, just you watch."

You nodded silently and gave her your signature, returning to your chair in the same wobbly manner that you had left it with, setting yourself down heavily. Your mind began to wander over the time you had spent rehabilitating and the work you had done; how often it was interrupted by one thing or another, and how you hadn't been giving it the attention it still deserved after your recent surgery. You hadn't thought about returning to missions for so long that it wasn't even on your radar anymore, but now it consumed your mind. Whoever this girl was, she was counting on you to be that other version of yourself again and you weren't about to let her down.

What would Steve say, though? If you told him that you wanted to focus on getting back into active status with the team? You had fully healed from your surgery; even Tony was getting back to work and he was healing from much more than you were. The only thing holding you back was your leg; you hoped that Steve wouldn't be another hurdle to overcome.

"Excuse me, do you know how much longer they might be in there?"

"They should be done any moment now," the girl replied, only glancing back at you while trying to find just the right spot to hang your autograph behind her desk. Quickly grabbing your phone from your bag you dialed almost frantically, determined to get the process of your return started immediately. You knew exactly where you needed to begin.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, but could I ask for your help with something?"

~~~

"You're an idiot if you go along with this, Clint. Steve won't have it and you know it."

"What am I supposed to do, Nat? Turn my back on my friend...our friend...when she's asking me for help?" Clint was now throwing each item of clothing into his suitcase with an angry force, escalating with each reply. "I can talk to Steve. Get him to see that it's just business."

"Sure, because that's been so successful in the past," Nat scoffed, packing her own suitcase in the same manner. "Have you so easily forgotten the whole 'Steve tried to murder me' fiasco? When you tried to talk to him about it at the hospital he jumped down your throat, remember? That sure doesn't sound like he'll be very understanding to me." She hopped up on the bed and onto her luggage, using her weight to hold it together and zip it closed. "I just don't see this ending well, Clint."

He stopped his packing for a minute and stood quietly, regarding her words and her body language, how she was avoiding his eyes. "Oh my god," he snapped, "you're jealous."

"Don't be an idiot."

"No, I'm right. Nat?" He stood straight with his arms crossed over his chest, his body language completely shutting her out. "This is just perfect. Just fucking perfect. You know, I thought you were different. I thought that we had enough years with each other that trust would never be an issue between us. She's your best friend, and you're jealous of something that she isn't even doing."

Natasha grabbed her case and marched towards the door, angrily pulling the handle and swinging it open with a force that banged it against the wall behind it to leave a large dent in its place. "I don't have a good explanation, Clint. I can only feel what I feel. You call it jealousy, but I call it being cautious and realistic. I was the one who listened to you cry over her. I was the one who talked to you for hours on end about how tortured you were. I won't be the one to stand by you if you're stupid enough to willingly go back. Keep that in mind when you make the wrong decision."

Clint growled and grabbed his own luggage, scraping it along the floor as he crossed the threshold of the hotel room, slamming the door closed and calling out after her. "You know we have to pay for that wall, right?"

~~~

The sounds of sleep were always a comfort; when Steve would wrap himself around you and breathe gently into your hair with the rhythm of whatever dreams he was having, you found relief that it wasn't a night that would be riddled with his nightmares. As his therapy visits continued, you found those pleasant nights to be more and more frequent and the nightmares becoming the exception. But now, sitting next to him as he flew the quinjet home, you found your body relaxing out of habit, this time hearing the soft snores of Bruce on the bench behind you.

"Whatever you guys talked about, it seemed to calm him down," you said quietly, "he's finally sleeping."

"I didn't say a word. I was just sitting in the back of the room." Steve turned to glance over his shoulder at your teammate, smiling gently to himself at the sight, "I was just the muscle in case things got a little too wild."

"I don't think that's entirely true. I think you have an insight into what his mind is doing to him that he appreciates, even if he never once talks to you about it. He trusts you, Steve."

"Mmm," he murmured in agreement, tapping the control panel a few times, setting the autopilot so that he could focus on talking to you for the first time since you had left over a day ago. He kicked off his shoes and turned the seat to face you, bringing his feet up and onto your lap. "What's going on?"

"What the hell is this?" you laughed, pointing at his long, wiggling toes under his socks, glancing over at him to see the anticipation on his face that you might give in. "Fine," you pointed at him, "but only because you earned it by helping Bruce. Don't start expecting this." Grabbing the first foot you began to massage its bottom, pressing deeply with your thumbs, feeling the tension beginning to release almost immediately.

"I expect this at least twice a day," he moaned quietly, shutting his eyes and leaning back into the seat. "I'll fly that guy anywhere he wants to go if this is the reward I get." You both sat quietly again for a few minutes, other than the occasional hum of contentment from him. When you paused to move to the other foot, he opened his eyes again and returned to his original question. "So, talk to me. What's going on? You seem distracted."

"I...um," you sighed, "well...I've been thinking..." You stopped, shaking your head and focusing more on the movements of your hands, beginning to waver on your resolve to tell him about the plans you had already set into motion. You began to feel guilt for not going to him first. Again.

"Hey, you're not making me feel great about this."

You steeled yourself and decided that just getting it out there was the only option, and that you would deal with whatever his reaction would be as it came. You promised to never hide anything from him again, and you had to make good on it. "I want to start training again. I've been away from missions too long, and I haven't been working on my rehab as much, I admit that." He started to shake his head but you stopped him to continue, "before you say anything, Steve, I think that I should at least be given a chance to try. If I fail, then fine. But I want to try because it's who I am. And..."

"And what?" he asked in a cautious tone and a sideways gaze, feeling his stomach begin to tighten with anxiety.

"And Clint said that he would help me."

"Fuck," he growled, roughly pulling his feet from your gasp and turning his chair forward to look away. You knew better than to say any more yet until he had thought through his reaction, allowing his mind to catch up to his emotions. It was something he had been working on in his sessions, and was doing his best to remember what he had learned. "(Y/N), you know how I feel about this," he said in a low tone.

"I do."

"Then why..." he stopped, closing his eyes and thumping his head back against the chair in frustration; you didn't know if it were directed at you or at himself. "I trust you. I do. But it's not you that I'm worried about. Why can't I train you?"

"Steve, you know why. You wouldn't be able to push me like I need to be, we've proven that. You'd be too scared to hurt me and you'd let me give up."

"And that's bad? To not get hurt and to know your limits?"

"No, that's not bad. What's bad here is that everyone keeps blaming Clint for a mistake that he made months ago. You can't keep holding that against him, Steve. Think of all of the things that we've forgiven each other for," you pleaded, "and not just you and me. Even within the team. So, why can't you do that for him now? He's with Nat, Steve. He's happy."

"(Y/N), I can't get it out of my head. When I see him anywhere near you, I see rage. I see him kissing you and you letting him. How do I make that stop if you'll be spending time together again?"

You didn't realize just how acutely Steve was still feeling the aftereffects of that day, especially given the amount of time that had passed and because you were together again. Things had been going really well between you, so it hadn't occurred to you that he was still struggling in any way. "Work with us," you offered with a nod of resolution. "I need someone who knows how to develop a plan that I know will work, and we all know there's no one better than you. You'll make sure that I don't move too fast, and Clint will be the one to do the work with me and push me when you can't."

Steve paused to consider everything you had said, finally opening his eyes again to look at you. "And I can be there every day?"

"If that's what you need to see that this isn't what you think it is, then yes. Every day."

You waited for Steve's answer, each second passing by painfully slowly. He looked out the front window and into the dark sky, his expression unreadable. Finally, he turned towards you again with a deep breath and a small, weary grin, lifting his feet onto your lap and leaning back into the seat with a satisfied sigh.

"Pretty sure I've just earned more, but we can start with this."