Heavy Angst

The day of the incident, the day that your child was taken while you away at a mission, Steve wouldn't leave your side. There wasn't a moment that his skin wasn't in contact with yours, as if he were trying to provide his own strength, despite that he had felt like there was none to be given. Your needs were more important than his own; your pain was more important than his own. She was his daughter too, and as much as he wanted to scream and cry and destroy everything around him in his rage, he was doing his best to stay strong for you. He pushed the pain away so that he could push forward in the search, not realizing that the day would come when even he couldn't push anymore.

After one week, he began to drift from your side slowly, though he was still never far from your reach. Steve was consumed with the search, as were you, but his determination was eating away at the fabric of his life around him, and even though you understood, you began to worry that soon he would drift too far beyond your reach.

At six months, he had drifted so far that you couldn't even see him anymore.

"Any word today?" Bruce asked cautiously, setting a glass of juice in front of you before taking his seat at the table across from your position. He set his plate down with a long sigh, watching you wordlessly for a moment before trying again. "Tony tried to call him last night but he didn't answer."

"Nothing."

"Any idea where he might have been headed?"

"Nope."

The doctor sat silently after the brief exchange, still watching you stare blankly ahead at the juice in your glass, waiting for it to still before you looked away. He didn't know what to say; he felt like anything that he said now would either be misconstrued as pity or mistaken for prying. Anytime anyone on the team mentioned Steve's name, it was followed by a pained silence and waiting for your response. You had wanted to go with him on his search for her, but he slipped away in the dark of night so that you wouldn't; he snuck out to do this on his own. He likely thought it would protect you and that you would be safer at home, but he didn't take into consideration that your pain was just as strong as his, and that you wanted to find her just as much as he did. He didn't take you into consideration at all.

"What can I do, (Y/N)?"

"Tell me where my husband went," you replied softly. "Can you do that, Bruce?"

"(Y/N)..." he sighed, trying to reach across the table to take your hand, but you promptly pulled back and away.

"Tell me why he left without me. Tell me why he wouldn't want me with him. Tell me where she is. Just...tell me anything to make this better. I can't..." you stopped, pushing your chair back from the table harshly, "I can't do this anymore, Bruce. I can't stay here."

"Wait, what do you mean?" he asked nervously now, standing with you. "(Y/N), you can't leave too."

"Why not? What good am I doing here? He's obviously not doing any better out there on his own or he would've been home with her by now, right?"

"Okay, let's entertain that idea then," he agreed. "So if you leave on your own, do you think you'll do any better than if you stayed here? What if he finds her and you're not here when he brings her home? (Y/N), are you going out there to find him, or her?"

"I'm going out there to find-"

"Miss," JARVIS broke in emphatically, "Captain Rogers has returned."

~~~

Steve stumbled into the main entry of the tower, his face pale and blank, his body riddled with fatigue and aches that he hadn't felt since before the serum. The searing pain in his chest wouldn't stop, and his mind wouldn't clear of the images that he was now burdened with. Even when he saw you approaching to meet him, it wasn't you that he saw; all he could see was her; all he could see was the moment when he knew that he would never bring her home to you and the destruction the news was about to cause.

"Steve?"

"(Y/N)," he began, but the sound of your name leaving his lips was foreign to him, and the feeling of it rolling from his tongue only brought him more pain, leaving him to fall to his knees in front of you. When you reached out to him, he pushed your hands away, ashamed of himself and his inability; ashamed to be in front of you now with nothing to offer but his failure.

"I'm sorry."

"No," you could barely utter through a whisper, taking a step back, "Steve..."

"I wasn't fast enough."

Your mind heard the audible gasp from Bruce as he stood behind you, but it didn't process that anyone was there beyond you and Steve. Even as you looked at the man in front of you, it was as if he weren't real, and the moment that you were caught living in was a cruel nightmare that you couldn't wake yourself from. "Why didn't you take me with you?" you whispered harshly through clenched teeth, the anger building in your tone. "How dare you just leave me here? Without saying anything? Without letting me know that you were okay? Without letting me be there too."

"I don't know."

"Do better."

"I can't."

His curt words did nothing but incite further rage, eliciting a deep growl from your throat that exploded forth, pushing you forward to slam your hands against him in a burst of every feeling that you had held in for so many months. His body barely jolted from your strength, despite allowing it and welcoming your strike against him; his hands came up not to block himself, but to accept you, and when he caught you to pull you in, you fought back with punches and slaps that he believed he deserved.

"No, Steve! You can't just hold onto me and think I'll comfort you like I always do. I can't do that anymore," you pushed back.

He didn't fight you at all, and if anything, the lack of response only fueled you further. The soldier was allowing himself to fall, and he didn't care. He didn't want to be that person anymore; he didn't want anything anymore. Steve Rogers was a shell of a man, waiting for you to finally crush him into the nothingness that he felt.

"I want you to leave," you muttered, stepping back until you felt Bruce's hands taking hold of your arms to stop you. "You should never have come back if you didn't have her."

"(Y/N)," Bruce interrupted, "you're in shock. Let's just go sit down somewhere, okay?"

"No, she's right," Steve added, pushing up onto his feet wearily, "I should've stayed away."

"You go sit over there," Bruce scolded, pointing the Captain to a nearby couch, "and don't move until I come back. Understand?"

With barely a nod, Steve sat quietly, staring at the floor in front of him and completely still. He watched you walk away from him with the doctor, and the bottomless pit in his heart somehow only deepened with the distance between you. He wanted nothing more than to chase you and pull you to him so that he could feel something...anything that would bring him back to himself, but now he realized that you were no longer the person to do that for him. He realized that once again, making decisions on his own was where his greatest failures came, and no matter how much he regretted it, and no matter how much he wished that this had gone another way, the two of you would never be the same.

"Can you wait upstairs for me?" Bruce asked you softly, his eyes searching your expression for something that would satisfy his worry. "Give me five minutes with him, please?"

When all you could do was nod and turn to leave, he watched until you were well out of sight, not realizing that he was holding his breath until it finally burst forth in a gasp that shook with his own emotions. He had been witness to the worst news that you could have received, being brought to you by a husband who was broken and estranged, and he was completely helpless to both of you. Somehow now, he found himself as the only one in the tower with you; he found himself at a loss with what to do about the destroyed man waiting for him or with what he would say to you when he came back. Bruce found himself at a complete loss about everything.

Talking to Steve took longer than five minutes, listening to him explain in terrifying details the things that he had seen, crying about the loss that he couldn't prevent, and feeling the regret seeping from his body with every breath. He wanted to believe that Steve's intentions were thought to be the best when he left you here, but after seeing the pain that it had caused you over the past six months, he couldn't allow Steve his forgiveness. That could only come from you before he would allow himself to give it.

After leaving Steve to check on you, Bruce felt an odd sense of worry wash over him as he approached your door. He rested his hand against it and listened for the sounds of you behind it, but there were none. "JARVIS, is she gone?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay," he sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to stay calm, "will she be coming back?"

There was a long pause that answered the question before JARVIS said the words that Bruce fully expected. He never should have left you alone, after the shock that you had just experienced; he should never have given his attention to Steve when you were the one who needed it the most.

"No, Doctor Banner. She will not be coming back."

Part 2

You had been gone for just over a year since you had all but disappeared from the face of the earth, and in that time, Steve found his way back to the team. He was still in pain at the loss that eviscerated his soul, coupled with the addition of the hell his life had become when you left him, but work was a distraction at best, if nothing else. He had looked for you, of course, but at the insistence of both Tony and Bruce, he stopped around the six-month mark and decided that if you wanted to return, you would do so on your own.

And then the day came, not when you would return, but when he found you in the worst way possible; fighting you as the enemy on a battlefield that wasn't about to spare either of you if he lost focus.

"Tony, it's her," Steve called out over his comm, "(Y/N) is here!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I'm going after her!"

"Steve, wait-"

"I'll meet you guys at the jet," he interrupted, shutting Tony down with a tap of his hand to turn off his earpiece. He wasn't about to waste time explaining it, when he really had no explanation anyway. The tunnel vision started, and there was nothing else around him other than to catch the trail of where you had gone. He couldn't understand why you were here, why you were fighting against him, even when he knew that you looked right at him, and more so, why were you wearing Hydra colors?

"Great," you mumbled under your breath, "this wasn't a part of the plan." You turned to your teammate and pointed him away, "go. I'll take this one. Alone."

"Yes, ma'am," the young man nodded and turned to run back towards the larger battle, where Steve had left his own team behind without his help. You waited until he was out of sight before turning back to see Steve getting closer, and when he was right where you wanted him, where you could finish this in private, you stepped out of the shadows for him to see.

"(Y/N)," he gasped, coming to a fast stop, but he still held his shield in front of himself; even if this was you, if you had somehow been turned, he would be a fool to ignore your level of skill against him.

"Captain Rogers."

"It is you," he sighed in relief. "(Y/N), what are you doing here? Where have you been?"

"I thought the uniform would give it away."

Steve looked at you again, paying closer attention to the cold darkness in your eyes, and all he could do was shake his head in denial and refusal to believe. "No, that can't be. You're not Hydra. Not unless they did this to you."

"I can't be an Avenger and see your face every day. This is easier. They're much more conducive to the rage and the need to destroy you."

"No," he insisted, taking a step forward, "no, you can't be this. You can't be everything that you hate."

"That happened long before Hydra. Self-loathing is simple when you have nothing left to lose."

"What about us? Or me?"

"What about you?" you spat, matching his step closer. "I thought that I was clear about that when I left. There is no us," you growled, "and there is no you. I'm here to make sure of that, once and for all." You raised your weapon and his shield raised higher in kind; knowing that he would return the action in that way, you shifted and pulled your other gun to shoot his leg, dropping him to the ground.

He faltered for only a second, rolling and curling himself behind the shield as he ran for cover. "(Y/N), I don't want to fight you. Please...don't make me do this."

"Then surrender and you won't have to."

"If I knew that it would make a difference, and that it would save you from this, I would in a heartbeat," he answered, standing up again to come into full view on a stumbling leg. "But you know that I can't, (Y/N). I have to take you with me." With his shield pulled back to strike you down, he fought the urge to close his eyes; he could hit you accurately without the need to look, and he didn't want to see you get hurt, but he had to watch to know that you were stopped. He was just about to release his grip and throw, but a charging repulsor filled the air instead, taking you to the ground with a single, merciful shot.

"Thank you, Tony," Steve panted, slinging the shield onto his back and hurrying to pick you up.

"You're welcome, Cap. If Pepper ever loses her shit, you can repay the favor."

~~~

The only other person on the team who would have a reaction to the news of your recovery that could even come close to Steve's was Bruce, who still hadn't let the guilt go of leaving you alone that night before you disappeared. As his terrible luck would have it, he was out of town at the time, but Tony's call was immediately more important than the work he was doing. He didn't hesitate to walk out of the middle of his own lecture without so much as an explanation, dropping everything to catch an emergency flight back to the compound.

Bruce packed up his hotel room with a furious pace, his belongings flying into his luggage in a heap of a mess, and a mumbled hope to himself that he had gotten everything before zipping it closed and rushing through the door. He hit the call for the elevator, but time had begun to move at a maddeningly slow crawl, with each ding of numbers as they passed other floors making his inner Hulk just as frustrated.

"Seriously," he grumbled, turning in each direction in search of the stairwell, "Tony needs to stop putting us up in the top floor of every damn hotel."

A rumble built in the floor beneath his feet, jolting him back to attention. He looked around at the pictures on the wall as they began to shake and threaten to fall, but before he could move to hold them stable, his phone rang and Clint's face lit up the screen. "Hey, Barton," Bruce answered, taking the handle of his suitcase to pull it towards the stairs, "I'm on my way down-"

"Not down, up," Clint clarified. "I'm on the roof."

"That explains the mini earthquake."

"Hey, there's not much room up here. I did the best I could, but I forgot to call ahead for clearance, so move your ass, Banner, or I'm leaving you here."

~~~

"Okay, Banner's on the way."

"Thank you," Steve nodded to Tony, who had joined him in watching you from outside of the compound's infirmary. "She woke up a few minutes ago. I tried to talk to her but she's shut down. She's in hostage mode."

"But she's not a hostage," Tony sighed sadly, "she's home."

"I think the restraints might say otherwise."

"We can try to let up a bit if you want. It's your call, Cap."

Steve chewed nervously on the inside of his lip as he considered it, playing out every scenario in his head and if it would be useful in any way, or if it would merely exacerbate an already tenuous situation. Even in just the few sentences that the two of you had exchanged on the battlefield, the idea of giving you any leeway didn't hold much hope for being a good thing. "No," he finally decided, "let's wait for Banner. If she won't talk to me, maybe he has a shot. Maybe there's somewhere in her that still trusts him, if no one else."

The two men stood ready for the next hour, waiting for you to look at them, to talk, to lose your temper, or anything that would break up the nagging silence that they were barely able to stand for a minute more. If Bruce hadn't have appeared soon, either one of them was ready to snap and confront you themselves, no matter what the outcome might have been.

"Has she said anything?" Bruce asked as he approached, his hands wringing in front of him as he moved. When he came to stand at the window with them, it took his breath away to see you again after so long; to see you in this condition only made it that much more painful to witness. "Why is she still restrained?"

"We don't dare take them off," Tony answered, "she hasn't done anything to tell us that we should trust her."

"Has she done anything to tell you that you shouldn't?"

"Trying to kill me was a pretty big indicator of where her mind is, Doctor," Steve added flatly. Even as he spoke, his eyes never left you, and they hadn't since your arrival. "We're hoping that maybe you can get through to her. I know how close you two were while I was gone, so maybe some of that is still there."

"I'll do my best," Bruce nodded, turning to enter the infirmary slowly. Once through the door, he allowed it to close quietly behind him, pausing for you to notice him as to not startle you.

"Bruce," you whispered, without any movement to see him. Just outside, both Steve and Tony let out a collective gasp at the sound of your voice over the intercom, willing themselves to not let it get their hopes up.

"(Y/N). How are you?"

"I've been better."

"I can imagine."

"No, you can't."

Bruce simply smiled, only as a courtesy and with no true emotion behind it. He couldn't let you see that he was filled with anxiety and terror that you may be lost with no way for him to reach you; it was even more painfully obvious with Tony and Steve watching every move he made. He finally began to take slow steps towards his workstation, grabbing his tablet and making his way back to your side. "I'm sure you're right. Where have you been all this time?"

Still refusing to look at him, you instead listened to the monitors over your head come to life, recognizing each alarm and beeping rhythm as they sounded, using the repetition to keep your mind occupied and your emotions held at bay. You may have looked composed and resilient to them on the outside, but inside you were filled with rage and pain, and the longer that you stayed under this roof, the worse it became. You felt as if you could explode from the building pressure in your chest, and if you were lucky, your heart would finally give up and just stop the torture once and for all. You had never meant to come back here, to reopen these wounds, and you had definitely never meant to see Steve again. The sounds of your heartbeat grew faster as you remembered your life with him, and your mind wouldn't stop.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Bruce interrupted your thoughts, "let's stay calm, okay? Your heart is racing."

"I don't care. I don't care what happens to me."

Bruce's eyes widened suddenly as he made a horrifying realization, turning to grab a small instrument from a nearby table; he took your chin in hand and forced your mouth open, using the mirror to look at each of your teeth. "(Y/N), is Hydra still using cyanide capsules? Tell me."

"No," you struggled under his hold.

"I'll remove every one of your teeth if I have to. Don't lie to me."

"No," you insisted, yanking your head away, "we're not. That's archaic."

"So, what are they using instead?" Bruce was a smart man; first, to know that they would have a backup plan when they were captured, and second, to keep calling them they when you insisted on using we. He was going to keep you separated at least that much if he could. He wasn't ready to call you gone yet.

"They've already searched me, Bruce," you huffed. "I was going to allow a cavity search just because Rogers looks so lonely, but he surprisingly turned me down."

He had to fight the chuckle in his throat, and the sentiment of your humor; instead, he set his tablet aside and pulled up a chair next to you. Aggressive searches weren't likely to be a way to gain your trust, so he opted for a different approach. "(Y/N), you know that you can still tell me anything, right? I'm still your friend, no matter what's happened in the past year. I know that you're hurting, but this isn't going to make it any better."

"How would you know?" you snapped, the flash of levity gone. "You have no idea what this feels like."

"I know that this isn't you."

"No. You're remembering the old me, Bruce. I don't know that person anymore." For the first time, you allowed yourself a quick glance at your past friend, and he didn't miss the action. It was nice to see him again, and to know that he was okay, but you couldn't allow him to see that deep down, you missed his friendship. You had to maintain your distance, and you immediately looked back to the ceiling, your expression blank. "Now, run along with your report, Doctor. Tell your Captain that he either needs to lock me up, or put me down. I'm never going to be the (Y/N) he's looking for."

~~~

Steve and Tony had heard every word, so there would be no lengthy discussion, no team meeting to make decisions about what needed to be done. Bruce had taken them aside to one of the conference rooms so that they could focus, and so that Steve would stop obsessively staring at you long enough to let his mind accept what was really happening. Bruce could tell that the longer he watched you, the more he was convincing himself that you were in there, and that he could find the real you, just as he had done for Bucky after he was pulled from Hydra. Steve believed that if he could do it once, he could do it again.

"She's not brainwashed," Bruce began, immediately shooting down Steve's hopes. "This is (Y/N) making a conscious decision with her allegiance."

"How do you know for sure?"

"If she were brainwashed, this wouldn't happen," he paused, bringing up a bright image onto the large screen at the head of the room. "She's having emotional responses; her brain is reacting in a way that wouldn't happen if she were being controlled. Here," he stood, pointing to one particular area of the scan, "when she said your name, her response spiked. You stir up a strong reaction, one that she can't control."

Tony groaned under his breath, pushing back into his chair with closed eyes, his hands pressed against his lids as if the words were causing him physical pain. "Shit. I'd almost rather hear that she was brainwashed."

"Me too," Steve agreed softly. Bruce, on the other hand, only looked more confused.

"Wait, why?"

"Because then the things that she's done with her new buddies wouldn't have been her choice," Tony answered, "and maybe we'd actually have a shot at undoing it."

But that option would never come. As the three men made their way from the conference room to return to the infirmary, the emergency alarms sounded around them, and they all knew exactly what they were about to run towards. You knew this building like the back of your own hand, and as he ran, Tony made the embarrassing realization that he had never wiped out your security clearance in the hopes that you would someday come home.

When they turned the corner, and looked to the same window that they had stared through for hours, you were gone.