They have a bet going. 'How long can Peter or Wanda go without checking in on Steve?'

The five of them, Bucky, Clint, Bruce, Natasha, and Tony, keep a text message chain up of how long they notice the gaps are. Bucky is their main source of information since he's with Steve most often.

Whenever either Peter or Wanda "nonchalantly " find some reason to talk to Steve, whoever is present and notices will send a text and the timer resets.

Other than when Steve is sleeping, the record, so far, is 2 hours and 12 minutes. And Clint's pretty sure that's because Peter was taking a class and couldn't text him.

The thing about it is, Steve doesn't seem to mind. Clint watches with wary eyes, waiting for them to get annoyed or huff at them for their overprotective behavior, but he never does.

In fact, he seems to enjoy it. To thrive under the constant source of communication and contact.

"He was like this with the commandos actually." Bucky says one night after Steve had left with Wanda and Peter to go visit Sam who was in New York for a few days. "I forgot, and weirdly enough, I had a dream— well, like one of those memory dreams I've been having? I remembered about the time Howard had to come up with a new method of communication for the commandos because we kept hogging the frequencies. Steve always liked constant check-ins and the commandos were real good about making sure to check in or Steve would go blasting through whatever was between him and that commando." Bucky smiles wryly, shaking his head, "Once, Morita didn't answer fast enough, and Steve thought something bad had happened, and the guy literally took out a whole Jeep full of Hydra agents, then set the Jeep on fire and used the light from that and my sniper's sight to find him. Turns out he was still hiding where he was supposed to be, but hadn't noticed that his communicator had been smashed in the climb up to his ledge."

They gaped at him and Bucky just sighed, "Steve's always been protective, but once he had the body that could handle it? It was a nightmare. He'd do anything to ensure we were safe, taking all the hardest hits."

"Just like the prison." Natasha says quietly.

Bucky's jaw gets tight, "just like the prison."

Clint pulls out his phone and Bucky hears him send a text.

The four of them look at the archer who shrugs. "Figured I'd check on them. You know. Better to be safe than sorry."

They all roll their eyes, but Bucky doesn't miss that when Clint receives a text back, they all relax a bit more.

—-

They begin to train and work through the memories that Bruce had requested to watch.

Steve allows Peter and Wanda to join when they ask.

Bruce is always there, and so is Bucky, but Tony, Natasha and Clint can't alway be. So they always fill each other in on what they've missed.

Bruce takes copious notes that he shares with Tony as they watch STeve get injured in a memory and then the process of healing afterwards.

"Oh…" Steve says, "I don't—" He pauses and his throat flexes at the screen flashes, something bright and red before going black. Then he looks sheepish.

Bucky looks up, "what was that?"

His eyes are on the floor, "I forgot about this, it's uh… another incident while you were still healing after Zola?"

"You're saying I don't know about this memory?"

"I don't think so." Steve huffs out a laugh, "It was an accident. Something we'd never come across before." He wrinkles his nose. "Geez, it smelled so bad."

"What did?" Bruce asks.

Steve rolls his eyes, "watch."

The room goes dark and then Steve, Monty, and Jones appear.

"This isn't a weapons factory." Jones comments, eyeing the long rows filled with black leather.

"Got to clothe their men someway." Monty says with a laugh.

Steve just nods, focusing on the small narrow hallway in front of them.

"I guess I never thought about Hydra needing a factory to make it's creepy as hell uniforms. Sometimes I just picture them sliding out of the ground like snakes." Jones says with a shudder.

Steve, in the memory, shoots him a grossed out look and the two men laugh. They walk through a large metal door that leads to a room where its eerily dark and they can't see.

"Monty," Steve says, trying to squint into the darkness, "hit the lights."

Monty gropes at the wall and finds a switch. He flips it and the whir of a motor starts.

No lights go on.

"Monty." Steve says, "what switch do you just hit?"

But before he can answer the door behind them slams shut, locking them in.

"Apparently not the correct one." Monty says sarcastically, trying in vain to hit the same switch.

"A trap?" Jones asks.

"Probably not." Steve responds. A light glows from the left wall and they follow it. Machinery is whirring louder, and Steve can hear the conveyor belts picking up speed. They make it to the far wall without any surprises, before Steve steps around a huge row of hanging uniforms where a row of oddly shaped holes have a red glow emanating from them.

Steve is leaning down, peering into one, right as he hears a click, and the release of a spring mechanism. A branding iron shoots out, catching him by surprise and on his right eye and cheek, causing him to yank his head back in surprise and pain.

He hits the ground and watches in shock as it pops out again. Over and over, rhythmically. He looks up with his left eye to see some sort of pully system.

Jones and Monty grab him, hauling him back. He hisses in pain at the burning, and he can smell the burnt flesh and hair. He gags and then groans, doubling over.

"Captain!" Jones calls, "what happened?"

"Got me in the eye." He moans, clutching at his face.

"What did?"

He points and Monty goes to inspect, carefully. "It's the Hydra marker," he says, "How they mark their weapons or uniforms, I'm not sure."

"Peachy." Jones huffs. "Cap, let me see."

Steve gingerly pulls his hand away and watches as Gabe tries not to smile.

"What's so funny, Jones." Steve huffs.

"Nothing." He snickers, "just Captain America with half a hydra symbol stamped on his face."

He groans and lays back on the cool cement floor. "I hate this place."

"Agreed." Monty quips, backing carefully away from the ever protruding irons. "Let's go."

"I'm not going back to camp until this heals." Steve says with a growl.

"Why not?" Gabe asks.

"Just imagine what Bucky would say if I told him I was an idiot and stuck my face near a glowing hole in a hydra base." The other two laugh and Steve smiles wryly. "We're taking the long way home. Just radio them and tell them we busted a tire, but we're on our way back. No need for reinforcements."

Monty laughs, grabbing his radio, and Jones helps him on his feet "how's the pain?"

Steve sighs, "hurts like I got a branding iron stuck to my face, Jones."

"Ouch."

The room goes blank and Steve opens his eyes looking over at Bukcy, waiting for his response.

"How you survived the war is a mystery to me." Bucky seethes, "shoving your face nea—"

"See," Steve says with a laugh, "this is exactly why I didn't tell you the first time!" He shoves Bucky's shoulder and the man huffs, but rolls his eyes with a laugh.

"You're impossible."

"How long did it take it for it to fully heal?" Bruce asks, looking at his notepad.

Steve thinks, "It took almost till the next day for there to be no sign of the burn, and another day or two for my eyebrow to fill in the space it burned away."

Steve turns to Peter and puts on a serious face. "Take it from me. Don't go sticking your face near any—-" he stops, his eyes widening and then he sits up, holding in a laugh, "You know what, I'm not even going to finish that statement."

Clint laughs and Natasha rolls her eyes.

"What?" Peter asks, "why not?"

Tony laughs and shakes his head. "We'll explain it when you're older kid."

—

Natasha watches as Steve, Wanda, and Peter practice a move over and over in the training gym. At first a few of the other team members were there, watching with trepidation because of the last time Peter and Steve sparred. But as the training sessions continued, Peter absorbed their teamwork like water and any concern disappeared.

Peter and Wanda work well together. His spider sense and her overwhelming magic create a sort of mind reading connection that means they are almost perfectly in sync. Steve finds himself using more and more strength or resorting to tricks to escape their barrage of hits. He couldn't be more proud.

They change it up often, using weapons, or hand to hand. Blindfolding or making the noise in the room so loud that they couldn't hear each other's heartbeats.

Natasha watches Steve thrive in the position of trainer and leader. He works almost effortlessly with Peter, honing the kid's fighting style and helping him know how to properly utilize the massive pent up strength.

One day, Natasha finds the three on them in a tangle on the sparring Matt, panting and huffing and all red faced.

"What the hell happened here?" She asks amused.

"Long story." Steve huffs, smiling at the others, "good work. Today. Let's take a break. I'm beat."

"Me too." Peter groans, "I think I might actually bruise."

Wanda yawns widely, and then curls up onto her side. "I'm so tired I don't even want to move."

Natasha pulls out her phone and takes a picture, smiling and sending it to the group chat with Bucky, Clint, Bruce, and Tony.

—-

They receive a mission not too long after. Steve watches as Peter frets about his abilities, but he puts a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder and smiles, "you're going to do great. You've trained for this. Just stay calm and don't worry."

"Yeah kid." Bucky says, from across the Quinjet, "it's just a bunch of maniac neo-nazis. Ain't nothing we haven't kicked the crap out of before."

That elicits a laugh from the rest of the group.

—

Steve wakes up to the sound of a heartbeat entering his room. He shifts and sits up, waiting for whoeve— Peter.

The kid walks in and sits on the edge of the bed, then laying on his back and looking up at the ceiling.

Steve tries to think what could be causing the kid to be upset. His heartbeat seems steady, so it probably hadn't been a nightmare. The mission had gone very well, Steve had been impressed with Peter's skills and ability to adapt.

So he wasn't sure.

"Anything you wanna talk about?" He asks quietly.

Peter turns to him, "Just thinking about today."

Steve nods. So something that happened during the mission. Steve wasn't always fighting directly besides Peter so it could have happened when they'd been separated.

"What about today?"

Peter smiles and punches the air, "it was just so cool! Like, we totally kicked butt and took names and we worked together so well!" He flips over onto his stomach and practically wiggles further onto the bed. "You were right. I just stayed calm and remembered our training and it worked! I know not every mission will go that smoothly, but—"

"Wait." Steve cuts him off, feeling his eyebrows pull down in confusion. "Everything's okay?"

Peter looks at him funny, "of course it is! Everything's perfect!"

Steve shakes his head, "then…" he looks at the kid. "Why are you here?"

Peter ducks his head, "oh… oh I thought… I thought I could— I'm sorry!" The kid sits up and starts to ramble, "the team usually comes in here when they want to talk about stuff…"

Steve nods, "yes, of course they do, but it's usually when something's wrong or something's bothering them."

Peter ducks his head, "oh…"

And Steve feels his chest clench in realization, "you came to talk to me just because you were happy?"

Peter looks at him guiltily, "well yeah…" he says quietly, "I was really psyched about today… and I wanted to talk to you about it…"

Steve's throat is tight as he leans forward, grabbing the kid's arm and hauling him close, hugging him so hard that Peter makes a huff sound. "Thank you, Peter. Thank you. That means…" he pulls the kid back and smiles at him, chuckling at the surprise on the kid's face. "it means everything. I mean it."

"Well… sure…" Peter says a bit abashedly, "I mean… what's a team for if you can't share the lows and the highs, right?"

And Steve sits there blinking, because that was from the mouth of babes if he ever had a say about it. He ruffles Peter's hair and nods, "kid. You're absolutely right, you know that? I wish more of the team knew that, they could come here when they're happy too." He sighs and leans back. "Okay, talk to me, what part did you feel like went best, and where could you have improved?"

Steve listens intently and with a smile as Peter starts talking, gesturing wildly with his hands.

—-

Steve has the sneaking suspicion that Peter spreads what he'd said because not even a week later, he wakes up to Clint staring at him less than an inch away from his face.

"Evening, Clint." Steve says with a yawn.

"Evening. Guess what?"

"What?"

Clint moves away from his close perch and settles in the middle of the bed. "Yesterday, my daughter shot her first bullseye."

Steve smiles and feels genuine excitement for the guy. "You're kidding! That's great! Is she going to follow in your footprints?"

"Maybe." Clint says proudly, "but she'll be better than I ever was."

Steve nods, "a chip off the old block. Tell me about her?"

Clint eagerly begins describing all the members of his family and their dynamic and Steve listens intently, soaking in each word that his teammate and friend speaks to him.

He makes a genuine effort to ask Clint about his family often after that.

—

The next heartbeat he wakes to is Tony's.

He finds the man staring out the window and watching the moonlight as it traces over the compund.

"Tony?" He asks, his voice still a bit sleepy.

"Hey Cap."

Instead of asking what's wrong, he asks, "what do you want to talk about?"

Tony doesn't turn to Steve, but he can tell by his voice that he's relieved. "I've now slept three consecutive nights without a nightmare of any kind."

Steve eyes the man standing there and shakes his head. "That's amazing. Honestly. I'm jealous." He says off-handedly, joking, "what's your secret?"

"Talking about it." Tony responds, turning to face Steve and walking over to the chair that is now his or Bruce's dedicated spot. "All this talking we've been doing. All the listening, all the sharing. It helps. And…" he looks at Steve meaningfully, "Pepper."

"That's great Tony." He says with a genuine smile, "I'm glad that you've been experiencing that. I hope it continues."

"Me too." Tony replies with a huff. "It's been amazing."

Steve just smiles and Tony leans forward, "what about you? How long since you had a nightmare?"

Steve blinks at him, sighing and looking at the genius with an exasperated smile, "How long since we started talking?"

Tony winces, "you were having one when I walked in?"

Steve nods, "sometimes, after a mission, or a tough day, my brain just…" he points to his head, "it's like with Peter. My brain takes something from the present, and squishes it with the past, and I can't… I have a hard time telling the difference."

Tony nods, "I know some of that feeling."

"The worst ones are the ones that feel like premonitions instead of memories." Steve admits quietly.

"Like Wanda's vision to me back with Ultron." Tony whispers out. "I know how that feels."

Steve nods. "Yeah." Then he scratches at the back of his neck and yawns, "but you're right. I think they are less often, and even still… I don't feel like I have to hide them too much anymore. It does help."

Tony nods and they sit in silence for a little while.

—

Two days later, Steve walks in to find a little dream catcher hanging above his bed. He gently holds it in his hand, and he ignores the fact that his eyes grow blurry. Even if he knows it's just the thought that counts, he has to admit that the thought counts a lot.

—-

Wanda makes an appearance and just fills him in on her time away with Vision. She seems so genuinely in love that it makes his heart hurt. Happiness for her, and a longing for him.

—-

He wakes to cold feet against his stomach and he squints one eye open.

"Hey Bucky."

Steve expects a joking hello back, but instead gets a brittle, "hey."

On instinct, he reaches downs and rests his hands on the tops of his friends feet and startles at how icy they really are. Both he and bukcy run really hot, so the fact that he actually feels cold is slightly worrying.

"Bucky? Are you okay?"

"I figured…" Bucky whispers, "I figured you know what it's like to feel like you can't get warm?"

Steve nods, grabbing the blanket that's on the end of his bed that he never needs and wrapping it around his friend's trembling frame.

"Are you sick?" Steve asks, even though he knows Bucky can't really get sick.

"No. Just dreamt of cryo and felt like this." His voice gets quieter, "you know how you said that thing about blushing? I think you're right. Memory impacts me like that too."

Steve sits next to him, wrapping his warm body against his Bucky's side and they sit there quietly for a while.

"You think this crap will ever fully go away?" Bucky asks, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"I dunno. But… You never have to go through it alone. Not ever again."

Bucky leans his head back against his headboard and sighs, "thanks, Steve."

"Anytime, Bucky."

—

Bruce and Natasha manage to invade his room on the same night.

Natasha was there to celebrate the fact that it was her anniversary from defecting to Shield, and Bruce was celebrating the fact that the Hulk had seemed to be a bit more cautious about property damage during their last mission.

Steve listened as they talked about their pasts some, something they'd never have willingly done before, and he can't help but feel grateful about them opening up to him.

Just like with Clint, Steve makes a decisive effort to ask them more about themselves as often as he can.

—-

Bucky walks into his room right as he is getting ready for bed and just comes over and hugs him.

"What's this for?" Steve asks with a smile.

"Thanks."

Steve plays innocent, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure. A huge massive weighted heated blanket appears on my bed just a few days after our last talk?"

Steve blinks at him innocently and Bucky rolls his eyes. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Bucky."

—-

The mission had eventually been a success, but Steve felt like they'd barely skimmed by. Some unknown combatants had slipped behind them and gotten a shot off at Natasha, and cut Peter's web, causing him to crash against the side of a building. He and Tony had been caught in an explosion in a science lab while hundreds of chemicals had burst all around them. If it had been anyone else they would have been killed instantly. Only Tony having his suit, and Steve having the serum allowed them to be okay. A bit singed, but okay. Steve had felt responsible since he hadn't known all the variables. As team leader, those details fall on him.

He'd sat quietly through dinner even though he'd felt nauseous since the mission ended. His head was pounding and his mouth was so dry. The serum was working to heal his skin but it was itching like mad, like the chemicals were fighting it. He tried to stay for part of a movie, but the headache and the images of Natasha bleeding in Clint's arms, Tony disappearing in the haze and smoke, and Peter crumbled on the ground (even though it turned out he was perfectly fine) kept looping in his mind.

Peter was back home safe with May, and Natasha was recovering in medical, but his mind kept seeing Peter with the neck wound, and he knew it wasn't going to be a good night.

"I need some air, and then I'm going to go to bed." He says tiredly, "I'll see you guys in the morning." He avoids their concerned stares and waves his farewells to the rest of the team, needing some time to think.

—

Steve must have walked further away on the compound than he knew because he arrives at a little fence that he's never seen before.

He pushes open the latch on the gate and steps through. It takes a few steps for him to realize where he is.

A small moss covered headstone catches his eye and he leans down to brush the growth away to read the name. The cold slimy greenery moves easily and the name that stares back at him causes him to choke in surprise.

Joseph Rogers

He stumbles back, eyes not believing what they're seeing only to notice a long row of headstones. Each unique.

He gently wipes the moss away from the next one and squeezes his eyes shut at the name.

Sarah Rogers

He feels his breathing quicken as he starts to furiously scrub at every single one.

Abraham Erskine

Chester Phillips

Winnifred Barnes

George Barnes

Rebecca Barnes

Remington Denier

James Falsworth

Howard Stark

Maria Stark

Timothy Dugan

Gabriel Jones

James Morita

Phillip Coulson

His hands are trembling too hard to clean off the next one, and he doesn't want to.

Because even without seeing the name he can tell whose it will be. The air around him is getting colder and suffocating and he can see the gravestones going on for much longer.

The moss begins to fall off by itself, revealing the name beneath that makes him crash to his knees.

Margaret Carter

Her gravestone has an inscription.

Abandoned By the One She Loved

He doubles over, his stomach in knots and his body shaking.

He doesn't know how but the ground starts to stretch, bringing the gravestones past him, almost like they're on a factory line.

Pietro Maximoff

Wanda Maximoff

He chokes, "no." He rasps out, "no! She's not dead!"

But the graves don't care, they just continue to pass by.

Scott Lang

Hope Van Dyne

James Rhodes

Vision

Bruce Banner

Clinton Barton

Natalia Romanov

Virginia Potts

"No." He gasps, "Tony needs her."

But the next gravestone makes his voice die in his throat

Anthony Stark

"Stop." He says, his voice brittle. "Stop." Something is trying to tell his mind this isn't real. It's not real.

But the gravestones look so real. He reaches out and touches the next one.

Samuel Wilson

"Please." He begs. "Stop."

"You don't get to ask for that." A voice says, "not when all these deaths are your fault."

He turns to try to find the voice, but it's gone.

He turns back to find the graves have stopped moving and three blank ones sit before him.

Before he can react, Bucky and Peter appear behind the gravestones, staring at him.

"You know." Peter says dryly, eyeing Steve in annoyance, "If you're not careful, we'll end up here too. What was that today? You call that leading?"

"Sorry—" Steve starts, "I'm sorry—"

"Try saying sorry to them." Bucky hisses, pointing at the line of gravestones that now seems to stretch forever, "Every soldier who ever died under your command. You could have prevented that! You could have prevented a lot of things."

"I-I'll do better." Steve pleads, his voice cracking.

"Too late." Peter says, stepping around his stone and laying down, sinking into the earth. "You're too late."

With those words, he disappears beneath the earth and his name appears on the gravestone.

A strangled gasp escapes Steve's lips and he begins clawing at the ground, "Peter, No!" He's crying, he knows, but he can't stop. He digs and he digs until his nails and palms are bleeding.

"Stop, Steve." He hears Bucky saying, pulling at his shoulder. "He's gone, and it's all your fault."

"Bucky." Steve looks up, "please don't leave me."

His best friend sits on top of a blank gravestone and sighs, "I can't go anywhere. You took the serum willingly. I was forced. I have to live with you. I don't get a choice."

"You—" Steve looks down and he's suddenly in his 1940's Captain suit. "You… Would you take it back? If you had a choice? You'd leave me to be alone forever?"

Bucky looks at him in annoyance, "haven't we been to the end of the line enough times, pal?"

And Steve watches in horror as Bucky's name begins to appear on the gravestone. His friend looks down and smiles, "guess my 350 is up. Good luck."

Steve blinks and his friend is gone. He turns around, suddenly surrounded by millions of gravestones. He sucks in a sharp breath and when he lets it out it's just a puff of white air. The air around him frigid. He spins, trying to understand how the sky is glowing red, and smoking and burnt earth surround him and the gravestones while he can be so freezing cold.

"You're the last on earth." The voice from earlier says. "No one left to lose." He looks up to see Johann Schmidt standing there, a smug grin on his face. "I told you we left humanity behind."

Steve stumbles forward, lurching away from the villain that has never truly left his dreams, and trying to ignore every gravestone that mocks him with the name of someone he once knew.

What feels like an eternity later, he returns to the last blank gravestone and he shouts at it. Inconsolable and incoherent words. His eyes go wild and he grabs a nearby stone. He slams his hand against the granite and begins to carve

S

T

E

V

He blinks and the letters are gone.

"No!" He howls, and tries again.

S

T

E

Gone.

His whole body shudders in panic mode and tries again.

S

Clean smooth granite stares back at him.

He gasps and drops the stone, something clutches tightly to his chest as if he might shatter.

"Please." He whispers, "I don't want to be alone."

"Steve."

He looks up to see his ma, standing there, healthy and full of life.

"Ma?"

"My boy, what have you done?"

His eyes slam shut, unwilling to see her disappointed face. "Everyone's dead." Steve admits to her, "because of me."

"Steve?" Bucky's panicked voice says.

He looks up, towards Bucky's headstone, expecting to see him there. But he's still alone and Steve curls further into himself.

"Steve, wake up."

"I am awake." Steve says hoarsely, "Awake and alone."

Bucky's voice is desperate and Steve's mind can't comprehend why, "Steve, you need to come inside." He's being pulled and he looks down, letting out a frightened yelp as skeletal arms and the rotting corpses of his friends and family begin to burst from the ground and grab at him. He shoves them away, feeling their bones, slimy fingers tug at him. He's fighting them, being shoved, and pulled and dragged, and he fights them, crying each time one crumbles under the force of him strength.

"Let me go!" He shouts "please, I'm sorry!"

"Stop!" Bucky pleads. But more corpses grab at him and he shoves them off, fighting to be free. "DAMMIT!" Bucky shouts, "Steve, please! We're too far from a building, I can't call anyone, please WAKE UP!"

Steve turns, expecting to see Bucky's gravestone only to come face to face with Erskine's rotting form.

"You didn't stay a good man, Steve."

The air shatters around him, leaving his lungs empty and him gasping for air. Everything falls silent as he clutches at his head until he feels a hand on him.

"Steve, you're having—"

He flinches at the touch, staggering away and tripping over a gravestone, crashing to the ground.

"You're sweating, how are you sweating?! It's freezing out here!"

And at the mention of cold, Steve watches as the ground begins to frost, then ice, then encircle his feet. Dread courses through him and he tries to move, only to find his boot frozen to the ground.

"NO." He says, "please no. Not again!" He gasps as the ice begins to climb up his body, a strangled desperate yell escapes him and he begins clawing the ice away.

"Steve!" Bucky cries out, and hands are shaking him, "Steve where's your tracker! Are you still wearing it!?"

The ice is nearing his chest and he's losing the feeling in his fingers as he scratches and pulls at the ice around his old uniform, "don't." He says, "the ice, don't let it."

"You're not in ice buddy, you're in the forest around the compound, where is your tracker?!"

"Tracker?" Steve asks, "you can track the Valkyrie?"

A choked growl is all he can hear before he's being yanked, "The skin tracker, Steve! The one from Tony, where did you put it?"

Steve blinks, unable to tear his eyes away from the ice creeping up his neck.

A slap across his face, jolts his head back, "Steve, I swear you are not on the Valkyrie, where is your damn tracker?"

The Winter Soldier appears in front of him and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm sorry Bucky, I should have found you."

Hands are touching him, groping his arms and shoulders and around his ears. It burns and it itches and he shies away from it. "Stop." He pleads, shoving the hands away.

But Bucky doesn't respond, just the scraping of something metal against him.

He feels the skin against his ribs, underneath his right arm get pinched, and he yelps, lurching away. "Found it!" He hears Bucky exclaim. "Steve, come on, we need to go back, you're bleeding."

He looks up to see Bucky standing there, in his Howling Commando uniform, gaunt and shivering. Ice is forming on his hair and skin and blood drips from the mangled stump of his left hand. "You make everyone bleed, Steve." The man says in a brittle voice, "why can't you save anyone you love?"

"I'm trying." Steve says, turning back around and choking at the sight of all the gravestones reappearing.

He hears the sound of a Hydra weapon, the sharp twinge in the air and the burning of repulsors.

"What's happening!?" He hears a shout. "What—" the voice dies off in a strangled gasp and Steve looks around, trying to find the source. But it's just gravestones as far as the eye can see.

"Barnes, what the hell is going on!" A metallic voice asks.

"He's having some sort of nightmare!" He hears Bucky say frantically, "but he's not sleeping!"

"Okay. Let me check what Friday says." There's a pause and something cold and hard touches him. He yelps and lurches away, the blue gun of a Hydra weapon glowing at him. "Woah, okay, calm down, what are we looking at?" The metallic voice asks.

"All of your gravestones." Steve gasps out in answer. A shocked silence that lasts a little too long makes Steve double over and tighten the hold he has on his chest. "I'm the last on earth."

"No." Bucky growls, "you're not."

But contrary to his statement, no one else appears and the gravestones refuse to leave his vision.

"I should have done better." Steve admits, "I'm sorry."

"Steve, you're dreaming, wake up."

"I already tried that," he hears Bucky growl, "he's not asleep."

"Oh shit." The metallic voice says, "Oh SHIT!"

"What, STARK!"

"His heartrate is through the fucking roof!"

"WHAT!"

There's shouting and hands and metal touching him and he shouts and fights and tries to escape the grasps of the unseen attackers.

"It's us, Steve!" Bucky tries, voice desperate, "Please stop fighting, It's me, Bucky!"

"You're dead, everyone's dead!" Steve can feel his breathing becoming wheezes, so desperate for air that he thinks his asthma might be back. "I can't breathe—" he rasps.

"Oh sh— He's going into some sort of shock! Bucky, I need to take him!"

"He can't fly! He'll claw his way out of your grasp and you'll drop him!"

"SHIT!" The metallic voice shouts, "we're miles from the nearest medical!"

"Go." Bucky orders, "go get something to knock him out, I'll try to drag him closer."

Steve starts to stumble away, heart absolutely pounding out of his chest and brain railing against his skull. He tries to suck in a breath and can't get enough air.

"Steve, please stop!" Hands grab him, and he starts to fight but his limbs feel jittery and detached. He tries to take a breath but feels his heart stutter to a stop.

—-

Bucky lays at the side of the medical bed, watching the heart rate monitor that's flat.

He's clenching the bed frame and barely registering the other people in the room.

He'd been sleeping and something had woken him up. Whether it was the sixth sense that something was wrong, or maybe he'd had a nightmare or something, he doesn't know, either way, he walked to Steve's room to talk to him and had found his bed empty and still made.

The back of his neck had prickled and he'd asked Friday where Steve was.

Only to receive the answer that "Captain Rogers is not in any of the Compound buildings."

He'd run then, bursting out the door and circling the compound, using his hearing. It hadn't taken too long to hear the telltale sounds of someone crashing through the Compound's surrounding forest.

Fear had run up his spine, had someone attacked Steve?

But the truth was worse. He'd come across Steve, far far away from the compound, pale as a ghost and breathing heavy. His hands were scraped and bleeding, covered in dirt. Bucky's eyes had instantly found the gashes in the ground where Steve must have been digging.

From there it had dissolved into a circus. He'd tried to wake Steve up only to realize he was awake, but not mentally present.

Steve had been sweating buckets and looking translucent.

He'd had to practically rip Steve's shirt off to locate the tracker that they used for each mission. Once he'd located that, he'd crushed it between the fingers of his metal hand, knowing that would send an emergency alert to Friday and therefore Tony.

Only minutes later Tony had come flying to them. Steve had collapsed soon after, and Friday had alerted them that Steve's heart had given out.

Bucky had practically had a panic attack, but Tony had grabbed his shoulders and said, "I'm taking him. Run under me to medical."

The orders had given him some sort of goal to accomplish and he'd watched as Tony hauled Steve up in his Iron Man suit and taken off.

Now he was here, hoping Steve's heart would restart.

Not waiting.

Hoping.

The doctor's had run test after test, discovering that Steve's blood was basically boiling his insides. They'd woken up the rest of the team and Bruce had flown into action, using his considerable knowledge of the serum to help the doctors anyway he could.

Eventually they'd put Steve on dialysis and run his blood through it multiple times.

"Without knowing the chemicals he inhaled—" Bruce had said, dark circles under his eyes and a clipboard in his hands, "—it's hard to know exactly what happened, but his brain scans show the area most affected is the amygdala, which controls fears and memories…" He'd sighed and looked at Bucky, "you said he was in a panic?"

Bucky's throat had been tight and he couldn't verbally answer, so he'd nodded.

"Yeah, so his brain went into overdrive, causing his heart to—" he'd taken a deep breath, "he basically had a panic attack, and his lungs and heart were fighting too hard and his brain was making it worse."

"Was this an attack?" Natasha had seethed, "someone targeted him? Hurt the serum?"

Fear had gripped him at the possibility until Bruce had held up his hands, "surprisingly, no, I don't think that." The room had been silent as he spoke, "I really think this was a once in a lifetime type of accident. I don't even think anyone could replicate what happened. Steve breathed in the exact wrong amounts of a hundred chemicals, I think he was just really unlucky."

They'd all turned to look at the still body of their Captain as he laid lifeless on the bed.

"So you think he'll come back?" Clint had whispered, "like he usually does?"

But Bruce hadn't answered the way Bucky had hoped. "I have no idea. I assume so, because of his history… but this wasn't a physical wound… it's internal and chemical… So… I don't know…"

—-

Now they were waiting.

—-

Peter was patient for three days as he waited for someone to answer his texts. He usually spent the weekends at the compound, but Tony had texted him letting him know something had come up and they would reschedule. But now it had been radio silence for too long and he didn't need a spider sense to know something was wrong.

And he wasn't going to wait until they decided it was time for him to know.

—-

"Mr. Parker has entered the building, boss."

Bucky's head pops up, and he looks to Tony who huffs out a breath. "I'll stop him."

He disappears and Bucky goes back to staring at Steve's hand that's clasped in his own. Natasha is holding the other and Clint and Bruce are sitting in the chairs, legs propped up on the other's.

Bucky hears a vent rattle and he knows Tony was too late.

A clatter and suddenly Peter's dropping to the ground, eyes wide and shoulders tense.

"What happened!?" The kid shouts, bounding over and practically crashing into Natasha at Steve's side. "Steve?"

"Kid." Bucky says softly, shaking his head. "He's—"

Peter's eyes look at him, and he freezes. "No—"

"Yes, kid." He swallows thickly, "yes."

Peter shivers and shoves past Natasha, crawling on the bed, "Steve?" He says anxiously, "Steve, answer me."

"Peter—" Tony rasps from the doorway, finally catching up to him.

"Steve!" Peter shouts, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Steve, wake up!" When Steve doesn't respond or do anything at all, Peter's voice ratchets an octave higher, "Come back, you can't leave, you promised!" Bucky hears the emotion cracking through the kid's voice, "You're supposed to be here for me—"

Bucky stands, feeling his own throat start to close and nose burning.

"No, you can't leave—" Peter's voice is broken, hands trembling, "you promised me you'd be here—"

Bucky reaches to pull him off when the heart monitor chirps.

Everyone stops, freezing in place and waiting.

It takes a second, but it chirps again.

Peter lurches forward, shoving his head against Steve's chest and crushing his arms around him, "You better come back. You always come back!"

The heart monitor chirps again and again and again.

—

Someone's yelling at him about promises and Steve's heart doesn't like breaking promises. So it wakes and starts beating.

—-

Seven pairs of eyes are staring down at him as he wakes up. He looks into their concerned faces and swallows thickly. "Fifth times the charm?" He guesses.

"That's a shit thing to say." Tony hisses at him, but it's confirmation enough and Steve winces,

"Sorry…" he looks up at them guiltily, "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" Clint asks.

"I remember leaving you guys because I wasn't feeling well—"

Bucky seethes, his hand coming up to pinch his nose and he steps away, causing everyone to look at him.

"Bucky?"

"You felt sick?" Bucky asks, eyes still pinched closed.

"Yeah…" Steve says slowly.

"And you didn't think to tell us?"

Realization dawns on Steve where this is going and he shifts, sitting up, "I didn't know it was this bad, Buck. It was just a headache and my stomac—"

"I found you being terrorized by your own mind!" Bucky shouts, turning towards him and stabbing a finger at his chest, "Your heart rate was so fast that I had no idea that was what I was hearing! Tony had to tell me! You had clawed the shit out of the ground digging up imaginary gravestones, Steve! And you wanna tell me 'it wasn't that bad'?"

Steve grimaces, "Bucky, if I'd known—"

"No!" Bucky shouts, "no more guessing! No more pushing through the pain because you think the serum will handle it! If you feel sick or bad, you get checked out." He sucks in air, trying to calm his own racing heart, "do you even understand how panicked I was when I found your room empty? When I thought you were taken again or being attacked?"

Steve just sits there, quiet and taking the berating.

"Steve—" Bucky rasps, coming back close, "the things you were saying, the things I think you were seeing—"

"Bucky—" Steve starts firmly,

"No, I thought we were past that! I thought we'd worked through all that!"

"I have—"

"Then why were you picturing yourself in the ice! Or alone on ea—"

"Bucky—" Steve exclaims, "Stop! I don't—"

"Bucky." Bruce's voice cuts in, "hold on." He looks at the group, "remember what I said about his brain? It affected the fear sections and memories, so it doesn't have to be a current fear or something he's still worried about. At the rate his neurons were firing, he could have been afraid of spiders in the 30's and seen giant spiders attacking him in his panicked state."

Steve sighs, "he's right. I promise. Don't get me wrong, when Johann Schmidt showed up I definitely knew I was losing it." He says with a wry smile, "but now that I'm here and feel normal, I'm not afraid of him. Or the ice." He scrubs at his eyes with his fists. "I do think the mission got to me, and maybe helped trigger whatever happened… but I promise, I'm not hiding those fears from you guys. You know them all." He looks at Tony, "You know I'm having nightmares still. We talk about that." He looks at Bucky, "You know I hate the thought of being alone forever, of never getting to die, but… you'll be there with me for as long as you can, I know that." He looks at the rest, "And you know I fear losing you guys on a mission. Especially the fear that it would be because of something I did or didn't do. But there isn't much I can do to stop that except to do my best and help you guys do the best you can. Right?"

They look at him and slowly they settle around him. Most resting on the edge of the bed, but Peter and Wanda crawling to his side and slipping underneath the arms Steve wraps around their shoulders.

"You guys are my team… But more importantly… and most surprisingly, you're my friends and the only family that I have. I won't do anything to jeopardize that. I promise."

Peter sighs, "and you always keep your promises."

Steve smiles at him, ruffling his hair, "I try."

Bucky raps his knuckles against Steve's forehead. "You do."

Steve smiles and leans his head back, closing his eyes.

—

He doesn't sleep. He knows they're going to come tonight, he can just feel it in his bones and he smiles at the thought, reading some novel Natasha had recommended.

The first is Bucky who enters and smiles and sits on the end of the bed with his phone out. They don't say anything, staying quiet. Natasha is next, with Clint in tow and they smile at the two soldiers and perch on either side of Steve. Wanda is glowing red with joy as she walks in, sitting on Steve's left.

Bruce is next and he sits in his chair, glasses pushed up on his head.

It doesn't take long, but Peter and Tony enter, a cake in Tony's hands and candles lit on top of it.

They set it on Steve's lap and he reads the piping on top.

Happy 5 Years of Coming Home

Steve looks up and smiles. "Thanks guys." He says, voice throat tight with emotion.

5 years ago, he'd flown home with the team from the Raft. And now here he was, surrounded by the people he loves the most, working as a team and living like a family.

He hasn't had a nightmare in over a month.

He has to dig deep to find an unpleasant memory.

He watches as the team around him eats the cake and talks and jokes and teases each other. He hears their heartbeats and his own and he meets Bucky's eyes as he hears all 8 of them, including his own, fall into a harmonious sync. They chuckle at the sound.

He waits, keeping his tired eyes open because he wants to be the last. Bruce falls asleep in the chair first, and Tony follows soon after, wrapped in half a blanket on the floor. Wanda and Natasha fall asleep on the couch, their legs crossing over each others. Clint nods off at the end of the bed, legs hanging off.

Bucky sits on one side of Steve and Peter on the other. They rest there in relative silence, their hearing all taking in the sounds of their teammates breathing.

"One day…" Peter starts, "you think it will just be us three?"

Bucky looks at Steve who breathes in and out slowly before answering. "Maybe…" he lightens his tone and nudges Peter's side, "would that be so bad?"

Peter huffs a laugh, "No, we'd get to watch their whole lives. That's kinda cool."

Surprise at the statement flits through both him and Steve and they look at each other. "Yeah." Steve says softly. "You're right. That will be cool."

"I just wanna remember this moment though." Peter says softly, watching the rest of team, "I wanna commit it to my memory so I never forget. Even when their gone."

"Me too." Steve responds, looking at the sleeping forms around him, "I never wanna forget how happy I am at this moment." He looks over at Bucky and raises his eyebrow, "what about you?"

"I won't have any trouble remembering what a bunch of idiots you all are."

"Bucky."

He huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. "Don't worry. I already forgot my family once. I don't intend to let it happen again."

Both Peter and Steve blink at him in surprise, and he cracks up.

"Not funny." Steve says, trying to keep the smile off his face.

"He's just annoyed that he is stuck with us forever." Peter teases.

Steve laughs and agrees, "he's in for a long life of keeping us out of trouble."

Bucky groans and Peter and Steve laugh.

"Yeah," Peter says with a yawn, closing his eyes, "this is definitely going to be one of my favorite memories of all time."

Bucky's eyes slip closed and he's about to fall asleep when he hears Steve whisper, "yeah kid, me too."

—

*A/N - I didn't go into this thinking this was going to be the last chapter… But somehow… here we are! I hope you've enjoyed the third and final part of this story! Thanks for joining me on this journey!