A/N: Warning: Foul Language and graphic violence in this chapter!

The Avengers present in Steve's room "Woke up" after Bruce left. They made a game of introducing everyone to him, only stopping when Natasha saw Thor's red cape fluttering behind the window and excused herself. She pulled Thor aside and explained the situation as delicately as she could. When Natasha entered with Thor in tow, Steve couldn't help but stare.

The man wore lots of shiny armor, just like the knight toy he had at home. His cape was a bright red that made steve want to remember something... something he couldn't quite place. A memory too far from reach. The man had long hair, and Steve wondered why he didn't cut it. Nonetheless, he was polite like his Momma taught him, and said,

"Hello, Sir."

Thor grinned. "Greetings." He said, examining the small child. He was happy to see that the boy's old fashioned ways were ingrained in him. It was something they'd bonded over and he would hate to see gone. Steve, although fascinated with the man standing before him, became distracted by Doctor Banner wheeling a strange machine into his room.

It was a white box-looking thing with wheels on the bottom. On top of it was a tangled mess of wires that made Steve think of the dust bunnies his Momma pulled out from under the couch. Bruce pushed it to the other side of Steve's bed that wasn't lined with chairs, and the remaining Avengers sat in their respective seats. As he began untangling the wires, Bruce began explaining the procedure to Steve.

"Alright Steve, what we're gonna do is hook these wires up to your head, and turn on the screen. When you hear Allen talking, tell me so that I can adjust the frequency so we can try and hear him. Do you have any questions?"

"Are you gonna knock me out?" He asked.

Bruce smiled. "Not at all."

Steve nodded. After a few more minutes of untangling wires, the machine was ready.

"Alright, Steve, we're gonna hook you up now." Said Bruce, calmly. The wires were strung into a headband looking thing, with suction cups on the inside. Steve put it on, feeling more than a little ridiculous. If wearing this thing helped stop Allen, though, he'd look ridiculous forever.

"Ready, Steve?" Asked Bruce, trying to remain jovial. Steve nodded, Pale and sickly.

The machine turned on.

For a little while there was nothing but static, but when Steve jerked small noises came on the machine, as well as a hazy figure on the screen.

With a slight adjustment to the frequency, the picture was clear, and the voice was distinguishable.

The Avengers were used to battling monsters, evil scientists, and whackjobs alike. They weren't prepared to hear what "Allen" was telling (Or rather shouting) at Steve. Sure, they'd been called their share of names in the past, but a four year old child hearing this on a daily basis? There must have been no crueler torture. They all listened with horrified expressions as they heard Allen begin tearing into the child.

"You're a worthless little shit. I hate you. Your Daddy hates you too- why else does he hit you all the time? There's something wrong with the room. They're trying to poison you. Remember when the bullies beat you up? You deserved it. Bet you wish your Momma was here, don't you you bastard child? Well she's not coming- she hates you too. You're the reason she's so poor- she has to send you to the hospital all the time. Kill yourself you weak little skeleton. Jump out this window right now and do everyone a favor. You're disgusting. I hate you."

Steve was used to most of the insults Allen threw at him, but the one about his Momma being poor and starving because of him was a new one. It hit him in the chest like bullet, making him bleed guilt and pain. He wanted his Momma here to tell him it was nonsense and that he was being silly. But Momma wasn't here- he was facing Allen alone, and that scared him.

As Steve clamped his hands over his ears, the rest of the Avengers stared into the face of Allen. His face was long and angular, like the bones were protruding from his face. He had a long goatee, and dark brown hair that was curly and scraggly. He had piercing green eyes and so many lines in his face that he looked old enough to be a grandfather. It was a terrifying face that made one think of the homeless pickpockets that tried to steal women's purses. Allen kept going.

"Let's play a game."

At that, Steve froze. Anytime Allen said that, he always ended up getting hurt. over the machine, Steve's thought, "I don't want to play, Allen. Go away." was heard through the speakers.

"Oh, but this will be fun. Let's make a slideshow, shall we?

"With what?"

"How about your worst memories?"

Steve felt the room and people drain away and was sent reeling into the darkest corners of his mind. They all appeared on the screen, but instead of them being from Steve's point of view, it was from the perspective of someone watching from the outside. That didn't stop Steve from feeling everything all over again. The slideshow began.

Daddy stood in the kitchen, arguing with Momma, while Steve sat in the living room, trying to block them out. When he looked up, Daddy had struck his Momma across the face.

The kids at school were playing ball, and one of them hit Steve in the stomach, shouting "Freak!"

Daddy was hitting him for trying to protect his Momma.

Steve curled up in a ball, squeezing his hands over his ears as tight as he could. He tried ignoring the pain in his stomach from the ball and the sting on his face from Daddy's hand. He just wanted it all to stop. The memories kept going.

Allen told him to kill his Momma before his Daddy did.

Daddy got out the belt he kept in his closet and lashed him across the back for talking back to him.

But none of the others hurt as bad as the last one. He had only been two and a half at the time, but he remembered it perfectly.

Mommy was reading on the couch when Daddy came home. The way he slammed the door made his Mommy stand straight up. "Sarah! Where's my dinner?!" He shrieked, breath reeking of alcohol. Steve was on the floor, playing with his blankie in front of the couch where Mommy was. He looked up, frightened at the loudness of Daddy's voice. Mommy scrambled to her feet to get the cabbage off the stove, but tripped over his blankie. She got right back up and made Daddy's plate, but the cabbage was burnt. Daddy turned to him and stumbled over to him. "Dumb little shit!" he screamed, and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. "I'll show you what it's like to burn." He carried Steve to the lamp that held the only lightbulb they owned. It had been on for an hour while Mommy was reading. Daddy put his work gloves on and unscrewed it, then grabbed it by it's end. He moved his grip from Steve's neck to gripping the back of his arm so hard that he felt like crying. Suddenly, Daddy pressed the hot lightbulb to the back of his neck, and he screamed in agony and started to cry. Daddy threw him aside. "Worthless piece of shit."

He felt the lightbulb being pressed to his neck and shrieked in pain, crying. Satisfied, Allen left him, smirking as he walked away. Bruce rushed to turn the machine off, but before he could, Steve's thought was heard loud and clear over the monitor.

"It hurts. Oh my back, oh my neck, oh it hurts, Momma, it hurts so bad."

The child stuck his thumb in his mouth, trying to block the memories out. Bruce and the rest of the Avengers looked at the child in what had to be the most pity SHIELD's medical bay had ever seen. Bruce sat on one side of him, with Natasha on the other side, stroking Steve's hair. Tony sat at the end of the bed, looking at his leader with sadness, while Clint mirrored his expression standing behind Natasha. Thor sat next to Tony at the end of the bed with a thoughtful expression.

They surrounded the boy, a wall of protection, and knew that as soon as Steve was well enough, they were going to give him the best memories they could.

Author's Note: What do you want to see the Avengers do with Steve? Leave a review and let me know!