Notes: We're back and jumping ahead a bit, to a few months after the events of Infinity War. This is a fleshed-out version of a flashback in Chapter 1 of Step Into the Light.

June 2018
Avengers Compound, Upstate New York

Natasha's phone pinged on the desk in front of her with a text from Rhodey that read, "Touching down in 5."

Steve and Rhodey's mission that day had been cut and dry. They went to clear trash and old personal belongings from an orphanage in New York City that was abandoned after the Blip, to help the city prepare it for redevelopment into affordable housing for people who were displaced.

After the team found and killed Thanos, and Tony, Thor and Bruce went their separate ways, the ones who were left pressed on and continued to work leads. The collateral damage was staggering, and both Natasha and Steve made it their mission to help as many people as they could in whatever ways possible.

Natasha made her way down to the hangar, rounding the corner in time to see Rhodey enter the compound. He tossed his helmet onto a nearby table, and they locked eyes. He said nothing, but the look on her friend's face made Natasha's heart drop into her stomach.

"Rhodey?" she asked, her voice laced with concern and confusion.

He brushed her off with a shake of the head and hurried past her toward his quarters. She was about to turn and go after him when she noticed Steve standing in the doorway. His face was ashen, and the vacant look in his eyes was one Natasha hadn't seen in a long time.

She started toward him, reaching out a hand to grasp his arm when she realized he was leaning all his weight on the doorframe. He immediately sagged into her and began to sob.

Natasha's arms went around Steve, and he clung to her so tightly that she could barely support his weight of his muscular six-foot frame. She pulled him down to the floor, tucking his head into the crook of her neck.

"Steve, what's going on?" she asked softly. "What happened?"

He took a few deep breaths and leaned back slightly to look at her. Natasha had seen him cry before, mostly recently during those first few days and weeks as they mourned the loss of their friends, but it paled in comparison to this. Steve Rogers was resilient, stoic and hopeful on any average day, but the man in front of her now was more broken than she ever thought possible.

She waited for him to say something, anything. When he didn't, she stood, pulling him with her, and led him to her room. Natasha sat next to him on the bed and began helping him out of his uniform. If he wouldn't talk, she would at least make sure he was comfortable. She pulled the gloves from his hands, followed by his boots. She tossed them aside then started on the zipper at the collar of his suit. It was then that Steve seemed to snap out of the trance he was in. He grabbed her hand from the zipper and pressed it to his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered against her palm. "I've got it."

Natasha searched his eyes, unsure of what to do or say. Steve stood, shrugging the suit from his body, leaving him in just a white tee shirt, socks and boxer briefs. She turned away, suddenly uncomfortable seeing an already emotionally vulnerable Steve in that state of undress.

She rummaged through her dresser looking for a pair of sweatpants she'd stolen from him a few years back. When she turned back to face him, he was sitting again, with his head in his hands. She dropped the pants on the bed next to him, and draped an arm over his shoulder, pulling him to her side. His arms immediately went around her waist, and she could feel his entire body shaking against her.

"Steve, please tell me what happened."

He sat up and silently pulled the sweatpants on, then wiped the tears from his face and took a deep breath, "You knew the mission. We were supposed to be meeting a few city officials and some volunteers to help clear the place out, but when we got there, we could tell something wasn't right. There were police and an ambulance, and when we went inside, we found the bodies of seven kids."

Steve choked on the last few words as more tears threatened to spill from his eyes. A wave of nausea washed over Natasha, and she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, knowing she couldn't fall apart while Steve struggled to keep it together.

"We checked The Vanished registry for the names of the people who ran the orphanage," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "They'd all dusted. Those children starved to death, alone and scared."

"Jesus," Natasha murmured lacing her fingers with Steve's. She wasn't sure if it was meant to comfort him or herself. "I don't… I don't even know what to say."

"This. This was Thanos' brilliant plan for the universe. Children are dead, and for what?" Suddenly, Steve was on his feet, the anguish in his eyes replaced with fury. "How many people, how many children have died or will die because the people they depend on were taken? How many were left alone without a family or a home? How are we going to help them all?"

She knew these were all rhetorical questions, but the more Steve's anger grew, the more it felt like a brick was settling in Natasha's gut. She closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her hands into her forehead, completely caught off guard when he let out a guttural yell. Natasha's eyes snapped open as a water glass from her desk hit the opposite wall and shattered. She was on her feet in and instant, tugging him back toward the edge of the bed.

"Hey, come here," Natasha sat again, and Steve followed, pulling them horizontal and curling into her. Her arms went around him instinctively, and without a second thought, she began to cord her fingers through his hair. Steve's face pressed into her collarbone, and Natasha could feel his hot tears soaking through her shirt and onto her skin.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, and it was a long while before either of them spoke again. Once Steve's breathing evened out, and Nat was sure he'd stopped crying, she pulled him up, so they were eye-level and wiped the remaining tears from his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, and Natasha's heart clenched in her chest at the pure vulnerability of the moment.

When Steve looked at her again, his eyes swam with all the pain he'd been carrying for months. He reached for her, resting a hand at the nape of her neck, and for a brief moment, Natasha considered kissing him. Instead, she leaned forward on her pillow and pressed her forehead to his. Steve's skin was cool to the touch, but the contact sent a familiar jolt of comforting warmth through Natasha.

"You're ok, Steve," her breath ghosted across his face, sending a visible shiver through him. "I've got you."

Natasha stayed awake, running her fingers through Steve's hair until she heard the tell-tale sound of his soft snores, before finally closing her eyes and drifting off too.

When she awoke the next morning, she was surprised, and a little disappointed, to find the other side of the bed empty. She sat up and stretched then looked around to see Steve's suit was gone, too. Natasha dropped her head back onto the headboard and sighed. She probably shouldn't be shocked that he would want to be alone after the events of the previous day.

A moment later, she felt the bed dip down, and when she opened her eyes again, Steve was sitting next to her with two cups of coffee. He held one out to her, and she accepted it with a grateful smile.

Steve took a slow sip from his mug and scooted in next to Natasha, so their shoulders and legs were touching. He looked down at the drink in his hands then up at her, "I don't know how to thank you for yesterday."

"Steve, you know you don't have to thank me," she studied his face. His eyes were a bit puffy and bloodshot from crying, and the usually vivid blue irises appeared slightly dulled. "You'd do it for me. You have done it for me."

"No, I know," he took another sip of coffee, and looked toward the ceiling. "I just… I feel like that was a lot to put on you. I honestly have no idea what I would've done if you hadn't been there when we got back."

Natasha nodded and gave Steve a sad, understanding smile. She, unfortunately, knew exactly what he meant. Over the years, they learned to lean on one another in a way neither felt they could do with anyone else on the team. That bond, the trust they put in each other, only deepened during their years off-grid. It was something that happened so naturally, that there was never any questioning it. They had gradually, albeit unintentionally, begun to heal one another. Natasha could count on one hand the people she couldn't live without, and Steve Rogers was at the top of that list. She never doubted that, if she asked, he'd say the same about her.

"I told you, Steve, I've got you," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

Steve's body relaxed against hers, and he let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding for weeks hours. He pressed a kiss into her hair, unable to stop the small smile that spread across his lips. He wasn't OK, and she probably wasn't either. But Steve knew as long as they had each other to lean on, they would weather the storm.

End notes: I know. I know. This chapter was even angstier than the last (is there every really too much angst though?). I promise the next couple will be a bit more cheerful for our favorite duo.