So, More than you know got bigger than would fit in one story. I never planned on writing like this, but you know, sometimes the stories just happen. This one took a life of its own and has become a big thing for me. I hope it means something to you all too. Or that you at least enjoy it a bit.

Anyways, this is picking up about several months after the end of More than you know. Bruce and Tony have been fighting (though you'll have to keep reading to find out about what.) Thor hasn't returned from Asgard. Nat and Clint have been enjoying their reformed relationship and Steve, well, he's been busy being Steve.

Warnings for intense feels, Stark-mouth, sexy fun times (eventually,) maybe a bit of hate-fucking, and I'm sure I'll add more as the list grows!

I don't own the Avengers, but god I wish I did.

Anyways, for SCIENCE!

Bruce was packing. Again.

He'd packed this same bag five times in the last three weeks. Each time, he had calmed himself down, convinced himself that he shouldn't run away. Each had followed a particularly tense encounter with Tony and each added another couple days of avoiding each other, but the cycle continued.

Natasha had been right, of course. Loving Tony meant fighting the ocean. It meant nearly drowning and the thing was, Bruce hardly knew how to swim. It was just, he spent so much time fighting himself that the doctor barely had the will to fight someone else. Sooner or later, Tony was going to push too hard. He knew that and that terrified thought had Bruce packing. It had been over a year since he stopped keeping a bag packed, ready to run at all times.

Hefting the duffle over his shoulder, Bruce took a long look around the room, letting it sink in. This was it: he'd not see this room again. He turned and made his way to the elevator, on the way, asking, "JARVIS, where is Tony, right now?"

The AI seemed to hesitate before responding, "Mr. Stark is currently in his workshop."

"Is he awake?" Bruce asked. He added, quick and quiet, "Sober?"

"No sir. I am afraid not." And there was something resembling fear in that accented voice. Bruce had learned that JARVIS was so much more than a program; the AI could feel and often did where his creator was concerned. He did all he could to protect Tony, to help the others protect him.

"I'm sorry, JARVIS," he muttered, hating himself for it. "I'm just not a strong enough swimmer."

"I understand, Dr. Banner."

The elevator stopped then, five floors shy of his destination and Bruce had a moment of panic, thinking the AI had finally decided to take a more active step in keeping Tony's interests. Then the door whooshed open revealing Steve.

Steve greeted Bruce with a smile, but the smile wilted the moment he spotted the bag. He stepped into the elevator and the door closed just as he hit the hold floor button.

"Steve," Bruce began to explain.

Steve raised a hand and shook his head. "You don't owe me an explanation. Although, I do ask that you let me help."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Bruce let his bag fall to the ground. "This isn't something that can be helped. I screwed up and let myself get too close. I can't undo that and it's going to keep interfering until I get some distance."

Steve nodded. "I know and I can help."

The doctor looked up, puzzled, but the elevator stopped before he could get an hadn't even noticed it had started moving again. Steve leaned down and picked up the bag. He motioned for Bruce to follow and then led him out into the lobby. Bruce followed, anxiously wringing his hands, but not asking, knowing that even were he to try to make a run for it, unless he let the Other Guy loose, Steve had the advantage here. And he definitely didn't trust himself enough to control his other half right now.

Instead of out the front, Steve led him around the side to the public garage. Bruce rarely left the Tower by means other than one of the jets or through Tony's private garage so he'd never actually been through this garage, but it made sense. All the people working in the tower had to park their cars somewhere.

Steve stopped at a sleek black motorcycle and tucked Bruce's bag into one of the saddle bags. He tossed a helmet to Bruce and then grabbed one for himself. The doctor stared at the helmet for a moment before saying, "Steve, I should probably just go on foot. I really don't want Tony to be able to follow me."

Steve laughed. "He won't follow you Doctor Banner. I'll make sure of it."

Bruce didn't like the sound of that but again, Rogers had the advantage here. He slid the helmet on and climbed onto the bike behind Steve. When the bike took off, he found his hands instinctively grasping for the super soldier's waist and a hot flush spread across his face.

"Sir," JARVIS interrupted his inebriated half-sleep. "Sir, you asked to be informed should Dr. Banner leave the premises."

Tony's eyes shot open at that. "J, what was that?"

"Dr. Banner left the tower at seven fifty-three."

His body followed the example his eyes set, bolting to his feet and frantically grasping for his coffee. He chugged the thick, cold and spiked bit left in the bottom of the cup before tossing it aside. "What time is it now?"

"Ten twenty-two. I attempted to wake you sooner, Sir."

Tony shook it off, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Where did he go? Did he take the bag?"

The AI hesitated before responding, "He did not take his phone, so I've not been tracking him. He did take a bag."

"Fuck! Get the suit ready." Tony was moving now, his steps only slightly indicative of the hangover that was already kicking his ass.

Another pause on JARVIS's part actually gave Tony a moment of doubt. "Sir, I would recommend against that. He did not leave alone."

"He didn't-" Tony stammered. He fell into a chair and when he spoke again, his voice was more broken than he would have cared to admit. "Who's with him?"

"Captain Rogers."

Tony let out a heavy sigh and relief flooded away the fear and doubt and dejection. Steve wouldn't just let Bruce disappear again. He said himself how the doctor was a part of his team and he'd protect his team. He wouldn't just let his friend run away. Hell, maybe Steve could even keep Bruce safe from the mess that Tony had become.

That thought hit him harder than he had been prepared for. Tony had been a nightmare for weeks and Bruce needed protection from him. Self-loathing in every step, he crossed the workshop to the near empty bottle of scotch. Without Bruce, he had no reason to stop drinking and every reason to finish off this bottle and go find another.

Natasha woke to the quiet buzz of her phone, still in the pocket of her jeans that were crumpled on the floor. She masterfully slid from Clint's embrace, not disturbing the assassin in the slightest. Without a sound, she retrieved her phone and checked the messages:

'Need help.'

'I know I don't deserve it.'

'Please Talia.'

All three came from an unlisted number but were signed JB. A fourth came through as she read containing coordinates. She glanced over to Clint, still sound asleep and then back to her phone. Already regretting it, she slipped into her pants, threw on a shirt and left the room without a trace.