No matter how many times that Steve had tried to reassure you that both he and Bucky were fine, and that they had practically healed completely only a few hours later, you couldn't shake the guilt of it all away. Bucky had his memories back now and he was no better than the first time you had met him, offering false hope that he could have a future without the daily torture that his mind was riddled with. It was true that you had pushed Steve to ask you to come to Wakanda to help his friend, but you really thought that you had a chance to help and to get him cleared of the persona that was holding Tony back from trusting the two super soldiers. You thought that you held a chance to put the team back together, and you had failed them all.
If there was no other purpose to you now, at least you could go back to healing the simple things, determined to put your focus on undoing the damage that you had done, starting with Nick's shattered knee. The warmth of your hands was emanating into it as you held your grip steady, but your mind was nowhere near focused on the moment; luckily for Fury, the easier the task, the more naturally it just happened despite your inattentiveness.
"Stop it."
"Hmm? What?" you startled to attention. "Something wrong?"
"You're lost in your head again, I can see it. (Y/N), Steve told you, they're fine. Barnes is completely okay with taking his memories back, so quit beating yourself up over it."
"Can't make me."
"So tell me, did you get that stubbornness from your brief time in Barnes' head? Or have you been hanging around Stark too long?"
"Learned it from the best, Nick. No one could top your example," you answered with a shake of your head in exasperation. You didn't want to be here, but you had to make at least some of these wrongs right; you wanted to see Bucky so that you could apologize directly and not through Steve, but no one would let you near him. It was too risky, they said, but you wouldn't dare touch him again knowing what you knew now. You simply wanted to see him and make amends.
Nick was watching you intently again, studying your every movement and every twitch of expression in your face, right down to the motion of your eyes no matter how slight. There were several times when he thought that you had looked right at him, but you didn't see him; you were looking into your own mind and your eyes were blinded to the input. It was true, that he believed himself to be at fault for ever agreeing to let you back into their lives, and that everything that happened once your feet hit the ground in Leipzig was on him, so he too was looking for redemption. He hated to see you hurting, as if you were his own, and he cared about you too much to watch the turmoil churning in you for one more minute. "Sub-level five, east wing."
"What?"
"That's where he is. Go."
~~~
Once you were sure that Nick was okay on his feet after healing him, you took his direction and made your way to where Bucky was being held, though he insisted that he wasn't a prisoner by any means. They were keeping him in a guarded room until they knew that his mind was stable; if he wasn't, there was no way that Nick would have let you go, so this gave you some hope before seeing him for yourself. You stood outside of the door to his room for several minutes, unsure of why it was that your hands were shaking so much, or why your feet wouldn't move despite your orders to do so; you knew the man on the other side of the door, perhaps even more so than Steve at this point, but something was holding you back. It wasn't fear, or so you thought; there was something else pushing you away, and it wasn't until the door opened from the other side that it became immediately clear.
"Tony," you gasped, taking a step back.
"(Y/N)," he replied flatly, still moving to push past you, "you can go in if you want to. I think I'm done."
"Done? Done with what?"
"This," he stopped, turning to face you. In his hands was a headset type of device that looked like a pair of high-tech glasses, still blinking and active as he held it up for you to see. "It's something that I worked on back at MIT. It's uh...retro-framer to block traumatic memories in the hippocampus. Expensive as hell, but at the time I was pretty desperate to block a lot of shit. Seemed easier than just dealing with it at the time, but you know me, better to just cut the wire."
"So what were you doing with it in there?"
"I don't know what the hell it is about that guy in there," he answered, pointing the device towards the room with an angry scowl, "but when your little experiment failed and almost got everyone killed, Rogers came to me, practically begging to try this on the jackass. So I thought about it," he paused, purposefully dropping the anger from his posture, "and I thought that if you were so determined to help, then...there has to be a redeeming quality in the guy somewhere. But even more than that..." he stopped again, this time staying silent and lowering his gaze to the floor.
"More than what, Tony?" you pressed, taking a step forward only to have him take one back.
"If I could do something to help...to fix him...then maybe there would be something for you to be proud of me for. And I know, you don't feel the same about me, and I get that-"
"Tony-"
"No, don't," he interrupted, a hand up to stop you and with another step back, "it's okay, (Y/N). You're right, we're too different, and it was a bad idea. I just want you to think that I'm not such a bad guy at least, and that I can...I can forgive. If you think that Barnes is worth another chance, then I'll give him one."
With that, before you could give chase, he turned away and left, his steps quickening with each one in the hopes that you weren't following. You thought about going after him, but you didn't know what you would say if you caught up to him anyway, so you held your place. You watched him until he was fully out of sight, wanting him to turn around to at least look back at you so that you knew there was still something there, a connection if nothing else. When he didn't, for the first time, you felt as if he were a stranger to you, but it was at your own doing. You had told him that you didn't love him because Bucky's memories were stealing your own mind from you, but now that they were gone, you were left with the pain you had inflicted, and no way to heal it. Maybe Tony would forgive you if you explained it, but the look in his eyes when he turned away was like nothing you had ever seen from him before, and it left you afraid to try.
"(Y/N)? Are you coming in?"
You took a deep breath and turned back to the voice coming from the doorway, letting out a heavy exhalation of relief at the sight of Bucky standing there, looking like himself and almost happy if that could be the right word for it. "Buck? Are you...did Tony..."
"Come here," was all he said, rushing forward with his arms open wide to lift you to him in a tight hug, spinning you around with a hum of contentment from his throat. "See, nothing's happening. You don't have to be afraid of me, and I don't have to be afraid to hurt you anymore."
"Oh my god, it worked," you smiled widely, pushing back to look at him. "It worked, didn't it?"
"I think so!"
"Bucky, that's amazing!"
"What's amazing is that Stark agreed," Steve joined in. He walked up to the two of you as Bucky rested you back down onto your feet, his arm still around you as if it were natural to keep it there. "I thanked him when he left, but I need to do more. He had no reason to do this, and I've been scouring my brain to figure out why he did."
"He did it because of me," you answered softly. "He said that he wanted me to be proud of him."
"Wait, are you guys not okay?"
"There is no 'you guys', Cap. Not anymore, and probably not ever."
"No, (Y/N), you've gotta fix that," Steve said, his voice growing urgent. "If this is coming between you two, then let me talk to him-"
"I think you're probably the last person he wants to talk to about this, Steve."
"Then I'll do it," Bucky offered readily with a shrug, as if it made perfect sense to consider.
"Okay, I take that back," you scoffed, "you're the last person he wants to talk to about this. But thanks, fellas, it's okay. I'm going to talk to him, once I figure out how and what I'm going to say. I have to believe that everything will work out like it's supposed to."
~~~
But it didn't work out at all. You had been back to the compound for nearly a month and the words exchanged between you and Tony could be counted on two hands. Steve and his team had moved back in, and even though moods and attitudes were a bit tense, they were getting better and new boundaries were in place. Steve and Tony had figured out a working relationship, but the friendship had been so fractured that any idea of rebuilding it had yet to be considered. Sam had become an active participant in Rhodey's rehabilitation, and Vision was getting back to his usual self now that Wanda was back in the building with him. You couldn't help but feel the pangs of jealousy at watching everyone else, when before everything had happened, you and Tony were better friends than any of them.
On this particular night, common as any other when Natasha wore you down with a workout that you knew was meant to kill you, you trudged your tired body to the door of your room and pushed it open with a weary hand, feeling like there was nothing in the world that could keep you from your bed. The desire to sleep was so unrelenting, in fact, that you approached your bed, fully clothed, and dropped face-first onto the fluffy blankets and fell into an immediate sleep. For the first time since you had been home, the quickest flash of Tony's face crossed your mind just before you drifted off, and it made your heart ache more than your beaten body was.
~~~
"Mr. Stark," FRIDAY called out to him, her voice uncharacteristically urgent. "Boss, wake up!"
"Whaaaat, FRIDAY?" he grumbled, rolling over in his bed and burying his head under his pillow. "Someone had better be on fire."
"It's (Y/N). She's in some sort of distress and won't wake to my voice."
Tony was immediately and fully awake, throwing his blankets aside and with not a second of hesitation getting between him and his path to you, throwing his door open to break into a sprint down the stairwell and along the hallway to your room. In bare feet and barely tied pajama pants, he didn't let his focus shift from his goal for a second, and when he reached your door, FRIDAY had already opened it in anticipation of his arrival, shutting it quickly once he was inside.
The sight stopped him from moving forward, not because it scared him, but because it was like looking in a mirror, and he recognized it all too well. It set off a similar reaction in him, his heart beginning to race and his breathing growing ragged. The room began to spin a little, and he felt off balance as his panic grew, but he still had enough of his mind to fight back; he needed to keep control or he would fail you once again, and he would be dammed it that would happen here. Not now.
"(Y/N), hey, you're okay," he whispered gently, hurrying to your bed, carefully lying next to you and reaching out to grab the arms that were swinging back at him in defense, trying to keep from allowing your legs to kick him. You were in a deep sleep, still unaware that he was there, but he would wait until you were. Once he had you restrained enough to feel safe, he held you against him no matter how much you tried to fight; he would keep talking to you about anything, even the banality of his day, just so that you would wake to the sound of his voice and know that you weren't alone. After an eternity, when your body finally stilled and your breathing slowed, he watched you until your eyes opened and the recognition followed closely behind.
"Why are you here, Tony?" you whispered, looking at him through the haze of your drying tears after the panic was gone. As your eyes met, he began to release his hold, but you quickly put a hand over his to keep in contact as if you were relying on it to ground yourself to reality. He didn't put up any fight, rather finding himself relieved that you were holding onto him so tightly.
"Because I knew that this was coming, sooner or later."
"But...I didn't even know."
"Please, don't take this the way it sounds," he began softly, "but I've been keeping an eye on you since you've been home. When you could barely find the strength to get to your room, I had a feeling that something was coming, so I had FRIDAY ready to call for me. It's a weird thing, but when I'm really exhausted, that's when my panic attacks are the worst. Like my brain doesn't have the energy to fight back anymore."
"That sounds about right..."
Tony nodded silently and relaxed himself next to you, allowing you to turn yourself to find a more comfortable position, but he didn't release you at all. His arms were around your waist, and his hands held yours as you pressed your back to his chest; he breathed in your scent when your hair brushed against him, and he felt immediately at home there. It was surprisingly upsetting to him, however, and it left him feeling more confused than anything else. "(Y/N), I'm so sorry about how I've been acting lately. I haven't meant to avoid you. It's just that...I don't know what you want me to do."
"I want you to stay here."
"Right, yeah, of course," he agreed readily, "I'll be here until you fall asleep."
"No, Tony, I want you to stay with me," you clarified. "I don't want...I can't lose you. Being apart this long has been the worst few months and I don't know if I can stand to be here another minute with things the way they are. I lied before, because I thought it was the best decision to make, to keep you from being hurt, but all it did was hurt you more and I hate myself for doing that to you. I do love you, and I'm sorry that I said that I didn't. I want you to stay, but only if that's what you want."
"Of course that's what I want, that hasn't changed. But you had a point, (Y/N). The age thing..."
"Is no one's concern but ours," you finished for him. "At least that's what Steve said. If anyone knows about age gaps, it's him, I suppose."
"You're taking relationship advice from Cap? Really?"
"I'm taking age advice from Cap. Huge difference. I refuse to take love advice from a man who kissed his dead girlfriend's niece."
"Hey, come on, they're almost sort of...practically the same age, and they're both available..." he tried, rolling more ideas through his head to help his rationalization, "and it's not like Peg's around anymore to say no..."
"Wow, Tony, am I hearing you right? Are you actually defending Steve?"
"Sweetheart, if he's the reason that I can be here next to you after everything that's happened, then hell yeah, I am."