AN: Set after Avengers. First Avengers story. I do my very best to keep everyone in character no matter which category I write for. That being said, the nature of this story (kidfic) might cause me to bend the edges a bit, but I swear I will do everything to keep them close to character as possible, (because I myself don't like it when they are way ooc) but still include that fluffiness that might make your teeth tingle, but not fall out.

Hope you don't mind that I don't thoroughly explain how Steve got de-aged, but let's be honest, that's not why you're reading it and that's not why I'm writing it. It's what comes after.

Important: Bruce Banner is a little out of character for the first little section, but there's a reason for it, and he comes around. I promise.

I don't own anything except a heart that loves its heroes and villains.

You'll Never Walk Alone

Chapter One: The Soldier, Scientist, and Radio

Bruce Banner stepped off the elevator as the doors slid open to reveal one of the top floors of Stark Tower. He adjusted his glasses with a sweat-slicked, shaking hand as the frames slid down his nose that happened to be stuck in a folder of research he carried with his other. His brain was so consumed with his findings and the stress they were causing that the sound of vintage piano music softly filtering through an old radio fell on deaf ears. Therefore, his left shin found the media device first and he let a few curses fly between the notes of a B flat scale as he reached out and caught himself on a nearby desk. The papers in the folder scattered like confetti from a can before swirling down to the ground with the descending notes of the musician's song playing though the overturned speakers, but the doctor paid no mind as he held his shin in pain.

"Sorry, Dr. Banner. Are you alright?" Steve Rogers' voice carried over the music.

Bruce winced and straightened himself as he glanced in the Captain's direction. Steve unfolded himself from his seated position by the window and walked towards the radio to turn it off. "Yeah," Bruce answered a bit shortly for both their tastes. He waited until the music stopped to continue. He swallowed thickly, trying to ignore his fast-beating heart, and made himself busy with picking up his papers while asking, "What're you doing up here?"

"I'm... just taking in the city, Doctor. Still a lot to get use to, even after all this time."

Bruce may have asked the question with a full desire to hear the answer, but he barely caught it- his nerves still frayed from his previous company and the contents of his research. "Well, if you'd quit living in the past with that radio, it might start to get better. Why aren't you down there with everyone else? This is a lab."

The words soured his tongue even as he said them, but he was trying so hard to not let his stress consume him and keep the 'other guy' at bay that all he could do was let the taste linger and watch a soldier straighten to attention waiting for a berating, but the soldier in front of him was different. The soldier's eyes were downcast as if that's where the army had trained him to look when someone yelled at him for no good reason. He sighed, disheveled his hair with one of his hands and took a step forward with full intention to apologize, but Steve took a step back.

"You're right, Sir. I'll make sure to get rid of it. I'm sorry for disturbing you." Steve took a another step back before making to pick up the radio, but stopped short when Dr. Banner excused him.

"Just...leave it." His tone was as apologetic as he could make it and he hoped the nod he received was an acceptance of his regret as he watched Steve head towards the elevator.

And maybe, just maybe, if he had known it would've been the last time he would see the friend he was use to he might've just turned the radio back on. But he was a scientist, not a psychic, so instead he watched the elevator doors close and kicked the radio with a shattering effect.

"Well, Pepper has been wanting to redecorate," Tony Stark commented as he surveyed the damage that had been done to his building.

Natasha glared at him across the room as she extracted herself from a pile of glass. "I'm going to redecorate something if you keep getting us into these messes."

Tony didn't reply, but angled his body so that just in case hell froze over and he decided he wanted kids, he would still have the option to make offspring.

"It's not his fault. I should've caught it sooner," Bruce said as he walked in, pulling on a fresh shirt.

"You caught it. That's what matters. Otherwise we probably wouldn't have taken that guy down," Clint chimed in from entering on the other side of the room while kicking pieces of broken furniture out of his way. "Good thing Thor's still in Asgard. Otherwise, this place would've been taken down to studs."

"As opposed to the 'big guy' shattering the top four floors," Stark sneered, but saw Bruce rub the back of his neck awkwardly. "But if you feel that bad about it, you can go with Pepper on her shopping trip for new furniture. We'll call it even."

Bruce grinned a bit shyly, glancing around as he did so but said nothing until a thought came to him. "Where's Steve?"

It was a worrisome question with an even worrisome answer. Make no mistake, they found Steve. Well, a version of Steve. As it turns out, their little battle they had with some mad chemist in the top four floors of the Stark Tower managed to inject the Captain with some kind of toxin that left him as his five year old self.

So there they were, standing at the entry way to the room that Steve had hid himself in and not able to enter because the tiny, trembling voice coming from under the bed told them not to with a slight wheeze in his breath.

They weren't sure what to do, all out of their element, but the ragged breaths were getting much harsher as the seconds went by.

"Horrible hiding spot really, Capsicle," Tony remarked. "Surely your size was an advantage at the game of hide-and-seek. You should be better." He stepped into the room to end the stand off before the kid could hyperventilate, but the sound of Steve panicking became louder and suddenly Tony felt Natasha roughly dragging him back. She glared and shook her head while he had the common sense to cover his privates just in case she acted on her earlier threat.

"What?" He questioned, because none of them knew what to do. But rather than receive an answer, Bruce suddenly stepped into the room quietly while Tony, Clint, and Natasha watched from the doorway.

"Steve?" He called softly and was rewarded with a sniffle.

"Steve, it's just me. Bruce. You remember me don't you?" Bruce could hear Tony's huff of impatience in the silence that lingered, but he waited it out until he heard a faint, "Yes."

"Do you remember what happened?"

He waited again, this time a little less, before a "No," was spoken. Bruce deflated, turning a worried eye to his teammates behind him, but Steve's voice got his attention again.

"I...I remember seeing...I- I'm sorry, Dr. Banner." A rattling breath came at the end of his indecisiveness.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't need to apologize. We're going to figure this thing out. I promise, but I'm going to need you to come out from under there, alright?

"I'm...I'm sorry again, Mr. Banner. I...I don't want to. Everything is... different."

"Hey, Steve? I want you to listen to me okay. I want you to listen so you don't get scared, alright? I'm going to come beside the bed," Bruce explained gently, but he might of as well nudged the boy with a hot poker because a sudden raspy intake of air cut through the room. The scientist was vaguely aware of JARVIS alerting Tony to the distress and locating an emergency inhaler somewhere on one of the lower floors. By the absence of sound, Bruce figured either Clint or Natasha went to retrieve it.

"Shh, shh, now listen, listen," his voice was soft and soothing and Tony's jaw was almost hurting in the doorway from dropping so far, but Natasha caused pain in his arm with a firm nudge and his mouth snapped shut.

"I'm just going to lay down on my stomach beside the bed so you can see me...so we can talk. I'm not going to touch you, hurt you. I won't make you come out from under there if you don't want to, alright? But Steve, I know you're brave, and I need you to be so we can talk. Can you do that for me?"

A soft sniffle, and then a wobbly, "Yes," gave Bruce permission to lay down and peek under the bed. Once he did, it took everything in him to swallow the gasp that wanted to escape him at the sight of a frail little boy curled up on his side hugging his knees to his bony, hitching chest. Instead, he offered a small smile to the blue, watery eyes that peeked out from behind thin arms.

"Hey, Steve."

"Hi, Dr. Banner," but the scientist raised an eyebrow, "I mean, hi, Bruce."

"I only want to help you, Steve, so can you tell me the last thing you remember?"

Blue eyes ducked back down behind almost sickly colored arms, before appearing once more with the shinning courage that he was use to seeing in his friend.

"I guess so, but I don't want to."

Anyone else would have put it down to child honesty, but Bruce knew that even if Steve was scared beyond belief, he could never lie to save his own life. The scientist wasn't really concerned about the answer to the question he was about to ask, but he asked it anyway because he just knew that if he was short with the boy in front of him, he'd receive a flinch and those blue eyes staring intently at him would disappear again, because he too had been a little boy once, believe it or not, and he knew what it felt like to have someone, namely a father, only ask questions that they needed to know the answer to.

"Why not?"

Blue irises widened and it reminded Bruce a lot like what he imagined Charlie to look like when Mr. Wonka gave him the chocolate factory when the scientist read the book as a kid. And if Steve relaxed just enough that his legs weren't pinned against his chest, the older man pretended not to notice or look relieved as he listened to the boy's answer.

"Well...because...you might think I'm crazy."

Bruce gave a laugh he actually felt and let his smile linger when he noticed it was a bit infectious to the younger boy. "Believe me, Steve. I'm the last person that would judge anybody for being crazy."

"Well...I was listening to the radio...," Steve began. Suddenly, it was Bruce who felt like he needed the inhaler. Of course, the most righteous man in America would remember the little riff between them as his last memory of normalcy, but then the boy continued with, "Daddy yelled at me. He doesn't like the radio. I shouldn't have turned it on. I knew better, but I like it, and I...but he...he didn't. He kicked it and then he..." Steve trailed off, taking up the action of rubbing his forehead and then his eyes. "But...that can't be right...because I remember all of you, the war, the serum, Loki. All of it, but...but it feels like...seems like...I was standing there with Daddy and then...this happened." Steve motioned to himself with one hand before putting both back over his face.

Bruce never wished for the 'big guy' to show up, but if there ever was a time that he did, this would've been it, because he was at a total loss. He wasn't good with his own emotions, let alone a twenty-three year old, who was actually ninety something, turned back into a five year old. However, glancing back at the doorway at his teammates' equally lost expressions, told him that he was probably Steve's best chance at coming out of this with a semi-level head. Tony's jaw had once again rudely dropped open, Natasha looked less comfortable than being tied in a chair at gun point, and Clint had just suddenly appeared with an inhaler in hand unsure what to do with it except bend down and slide it across the room to Bruce. The scientist caught it and turned his attention back under the bed.

He wanted to get Steve to take the inhaler, but he knew he had to take things slow.

So he asked, "What kind of music were you listening to?" But Steve didn't seem to hear him, breaths coming in harsh and much more erratic than before. "Hey, hey, easy. Listen to me, Steve. Come on, Buddy. What kind of music was on the radio? Hmm?"

A desperate gulp of air and then, "Jazz...it...it's Momma's favorite. She sings- use to sing it to me..."

"Oh yeah? My mom...she use to sing to me, too, ya know?"

"Really?" And something in the way the 'y' of that word hitched just the slightest meant that Bruce wasn't as terrible with kids as he believed himself to be.

"Mmhmm. You see... my dad and your dad...I think they had a lot in common. But most nights, my mom, she would..." Bruce swallowed and directed his gaze to a spot on the floor between them, "come in my room after one of his...you know, and she'd sit next to me on the bed, and turn on the radio that was on the nightstand. We'd sit there for what felt like forever just listening to it." He gave a small laugh and noticed Steve flinch just a little bit, before wheezing in two short breaths. "She use to say, "Bruce, you know that's more than a radio don't you? It's a picture, too." Upon seeing Steve's small forehead crinkle in confusion he motioned with his hand, "I know. I was confused too the first time she said it, but then the more we sat there and listened to it, I knew what she meant because to this day, every time I listen to the radio I can see her clear as day telling me that the world is only as scary as you let yourself believe it is."

Steve began to ponder over that a moment and whether or not he could grasp the meaning of what Bruce was trying to tell him, he still seemed satisfied when he quietly asked, "Do you...can we...do you think we can listen to the radio? I want to see her, too. She seems really nice."

Slightly dumbfounded, but equally amused, the scientist gave it some thought before nodding his head and pulling out his cellphone.

"Steve, I'll make you a deal. How about I turn on some of her favorite music and you try to picture her while I crawl under there with you...and see if we can get you breathing a little better, huh?" Even as he suggested it, he could feel his blood pressure rise, but if he had to get the kid to be brave enough to come out from under there, then he'd have to be brave enough to go under.

"But you don't like being in small spaces, Dr. Banner." Suddenly, Steve wasn't a confused five year old boy anymore. He was just regular Steve, always thinking about the well being of others.

"Well, Steve, just because you don't like something, doesn't mean you should be afraid of it."

Steve thought it over, before nodding in agreement and Bruce hit the play button on his phone before placing it on the ground.

Elvis' You'll Never Walk Alone began to play.

With that, he rolled onto his back and wedged his way in between the floor and the bed frame until he was laying beside the small boy still curled on his side. He turned his head to look at him and held up the inhaler between them. A feeble hand reached out and Bruce thought that the boy would take the inhaler from him, but had to try to keep his expression blank as the tiny hand grabbed what it could of his own large one and gently tugged it towards him. Uncertainty aside, he gave a small smile while aiding the boy in guiding the medicine to his mouth, offering a soft, "Easy," or "It's alright. Take a big breath," while pushing down the inhaler. He ended up having to push it twice, but after a few minutes the boy's breathing evened out, but the little, cold hand remained latched onto his.

Bruce stared at it a moment before glancing up at the blue eyes full of uncertainty, but the courage to give anything a try. He gave one last reassuring smile before providing a, "only when you're ready." They laid there for ever how long Steve wanted to with the radio playing, eyes shut tightly as if doing so would make a picture of Bruce's mom come to him and if Bruce sang along only loud enough for Steve to hear, well no one would ever mention it in the years to come...except once.

Bruce felt a small tug on his hand and glanced at the boy whose eyes were open again. Steve swallowed thickly for a reason the older man wasn't sure of.

"I can't see her," he whispered, a little sadly. However, with tiny fingers latched onto three of the older man's fingers he confided, "But the world doesn't seem so scary anymore."

AN: Thanks for reading and giving it a try! Please let me know what you think!

P.S. More to come! And this won't just focus on Steve and Bruce. All the others will be as equally prominent.

Oh, and I chose an Elvis song because my own mom sang Elvis and The Beatles to me as a kid. :) Go have a listen.