A/N: Huge apologies for the wait! This was a rather difficult chapter, ahaha.


Steve was not fond of watching things fall.

It was perhaps too soon for his brain, even though his own descent occurred well over fifty years ago, because all he could realize was that the only thing that could greet something going down was the cold, hard ground.

Nonetheless, he had no choice but to ruin the landing prematurely for these aliens, using his shield to bat them away and knock them aside.

It bothered him to think that other things – buildings, planes, lampposts – and other people – trapped people, scared people, desperate people – and even more – faith, hope, hearts – were still falling all around him. They would keep falling if he didn't stand resolute.

Captain America pledged that he would not let himself fall.

"So you're saying that the Tesseract Energy might've ended up swirling around with the power from the Arc Reactor?" Natasha snapped, harshly yanking Steve out of his reverie with her sharp words and gunshots.

Bruce was crouched in an alleyway, not yet green nor mean, watching as his friends covered for him while he still tried to stop shaking, "Yeah… Yeah. I couldn't help but pick up some readings from Tony while we were working—he kind of radiates energy in more ways than one, you know?—and they were almost uncannily similar to the readings we were getting off of Loki's spear."

"And what does that mean, Banner?" Steve spoke up, just after he knocked another Chitauri warrior aside.

The brunette sighed again as he ran a hand through his curls, "I… I'm not really sure. But if they intermingle too much, we might not be able to separate them. And Tony's body has been exposed to that energy for a really long time so it probably adjusted to it and if they aren't stopped—"

"We could lose Stark for good," Natasha cursed, just as she loaded another cartridge into her handgun.

The doctor merely just gulped quietly, affirming it.

"… but we won't let that happen," Steve sighed. He and Tony had had their tiffs, they still didn't get along on a base level, but like hell would he be losing one of his team. "We need to find him again and take him away from the field."

"Using the Iron Man suit often exacerbates his condition. It's better if we get him out of it as soon as possible until we know exactly what's happening to his body." Bruce nodded and finally stood, brushing off all the dust on his person.

Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Listen boys, I know we have to care for Stark… but if we put off everything to search for him, the entire city's going to be destroyed."

"Then it'll be my personal mission."

"Dr. Banner." Steve's brows furrowed and he grit his teeth, his muscles straining as he was brought face to face against a Chitauri. He only spoke after Natasha's bullets turned it into Swiss cheese. "You don't have to—"

"On the contrary, Captain, I do," Bruce sighed and rubbed at his wrists before looking up, his earnest gaze on Steve. "So are you going to let me go or do I have to go rogue?"

It took all of a moment for Steve to weigh the pros and cons, eventually just shaking his head, "Okay… New set of orders for you, find Stark and get him back to a safe location and out of the Iron Man suit. Smash everything in sight on your way there."

A quirky little smile tugged at Bruce's lips before he nodded, "Understood."

His run further back into the alley was followed by the sound of walls being crushed and a deafening roar.

The Hulk was now unleashed in the city.

Steve went back into focusing on the fight, punching aliens left and right, making use of the body that the super soldier serum granted him. He'd realized that Natasha had wandered a bit farther during his conversation with Bruce and so he went to go find her—

Only to find that she was perfectly fine, what with her greeting being a stolen Chitauri weapon pointed right at his face.

He was impressed. Nonetheless, he took upon the gentleman's role and offered her a hand from where she was placing most of her weight on a police car, pulling her up and onto her feet as both of their gazes drifted upward.

"Hate to be a downer, Cap," she breathed, "but this isn't going to mean a damn thing if we don't close that portal."

"Our biggest guns couldn't touch it," he lamented and couldn't help but notice that there was a larger count of Chitauri in the air now that Tony wasn't monitoring them—it hurt to think that even his assistance might've been a lie. How much better would they be faring if he was all there…?

"Maybe it's not about guns." She shrugged and locked her eyes on the Stark Tower, the origin of the pillar of light. There was something determined in her gaze, harsh and unforgiving as the ice that he found himself trapped in.

It was all at once frightening and incredibly amazing.

Steve eventually found his words as he tilted his head to the side. "You're gonna need a ride."

Again, her gaze drifted skyward to where the air fleet of aliens buzzed and zipped overhead. She hummed easily. "I've got a ride."

"… you sure?"

"I could use a lift though," she quipped, turning so that she faced him while continuing to walk backwards.

Again, he just had to repeat the question, "…. You sure about this?"

"Yeah, it could be fun." She shrugged and spoke as if she was proposing a day at the beach.

Not a second after, she had started sprinting at him and Steve took his cue, kneeling down and aiming his shield at an angle for her to get a grip. As soon as he felt her weight, he shifted and propelled her straight up.

He was perhaps too eager to move his shield aside, watching her spin into the air and reach out, latching onto one of the alien transportation vehicles and flying away.

His brows raised and he couldn't help but grin a bit. Dames of this century were something else.

A repulsor blast shot the smile right off his face.

"Tsk tsk, Cap, I thought you were supposed to be a 1940's guy," a familiar voice boomed overhead, Iron Man shrugging with his palms turned up. His left glove was still cooling down from the last hit. "Now come on, quit the skirt-chasing and face me like a man."

"Tony…?" Steve turned in the rubble, pressing a hand to his abdomen, still feeling the sting of the shot. "What happened to you?"

"What happened to me..?"

The face plate of the Iron Man helmet flipped up – and Steve felt his heart fall, crashing into the unforgiving ground – revealing a wicked grin and blazing blue eyes.

"I got to know peace."


Loki practically laughed as he watched the Avengers fight amongst one another, the repulsor blast knocking the good captain right off his feet.

Oh, his new pet was just so fun to watch.

The god hummed as he raised a brow. Perhaps he could bring Tony along with him, keep him as a general and occasionally a foot stool. After all, the mortal had proven himself to be so useful already.

Really, the only issue with Tony was his damned mouth.

As the God of Lies and Mischief, Loki perhaps knew too intimately how dangerous words could be when employed as weapons. However there had been very few that knew how to wield them properly, instead throwing them blindly and hoping that their spear would find purchase in their target.

(Or in other occasions when words had barbs not at all intended—

"Know your place, brother."

—yet perhaps those were the arrows that flew most true.)

Narrowing his eyes a bit, Loki watched as the advanced suit of armor rained bombs and other such weaponry upon the final beacon of hope that the city had. Captain America, he who had perhaps too much heart… yes, he would be an issue if he continued boosting the morale of the people and the Avengers alike.

Best to simply send Tony to encase that super soldier in a far more permanent sleep.

With a wave of his hand, the god found himself on a separate flying device and he turned his back to the site where the two comrades fought.

Certainly, he thought. Certainly it was about time these foolish humans had a taste of true betrayal.

It was a delicacy that the gods relished in so often, after all. Right alongside revenge.

And so he pursued his revenge on the one who had managed to twist her words just right, to fool even him—Oh yes. He had quite the pesky gnat to quash.


Steve was the one who found Tony after Phil died.

It was something that Tony would probably never forget.

Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist—it was still accurate. He just forgot to mention 'narcissist alcoholic time-bomb'. Anyone who dealt with him deserved a medal, or really, a few of them and maybe a private plane along with being made CEO of his company.

Not that anyone would say it was difficult to work with Tony Stark, no. Such a statement could never be made publicly or else it would have to be dealt with.

So instead the people closest to him – Rhodey, Happy, beautiful and patient and perfect Pepper – would tell him. They would try to quit on him, they would ignore his orders, they would shut him out of their lives, and they would tell him that they shouldn't hang out because it wouldn't be good for their friendship.

They would somehow, without fail or hesitance, be there to pick him back up.

… well, almost without fail.

Pepper was at the meeting in Washington. Happy was acting as her bodyguard. Rhodey had been away for weeks already to finish his tour of duty.

And normally they were all there to save Tony from his inner demons, from the bottles of Scotch that lined his walls, from the constant teetering on the edge of starvation when he got caught in a fit of genius and locked himself in the lab, from getting lost in the game.

After all Tony Stark was a gambler, he knew exactly how to quadruple his winnings and he knew how to count cards, but he rarely did. No, he was much more accustomed to running along with dice, roulettes—he didn't want something he could calculate even though everything could be a little calculated if he angled his hand just right and put in so much force.

Tony Stark took a chance on the Avengers Initiative, not sure what he was putting his faith in but thinking that there was a chance that maybe they would be able to succeed where every other force on earth would fail.

Tony Stark dared to let himself start trusting the people of SHIELD or maybe just that guy named Agent that managed to help keep Pepper safe from Obadiah, who was there when Tony announced to the world that he wasn't going to hide from them, who was assigned on the job to keep Tony under house arrest and failed just enough to let him actually get things done, who he still owed a plane trip to Portland—

Tony Stark made the mistake of coming to trust Agent Phil Coulson who died, just in time for no one else there to come to his rescue.

Tony Stark made a bad bet and seemed to have lost it all in one raid of the Helicarrier.

Then Captain America had been the one to find him in his irrational, emotional, whirlwind state.

Just like Howard had always promised him as a boy, when he was in trouble, it would be Captain America that would be the one to be able to save him.

"Tony!" Steve held up his shield, angling it so that the repulsor ray was directed away from Tony as opposed to sending it right back, "Why are you doing this?!"

(Somewhere in the trap of his mind, Tony was clinging to a single rope of control against the waves of alien will, he tried to pull the reins back into his hands. Instead he could only whine—and that's when he felt the desperation because Anthony Edward Stark never whined.

'Steve! Steve, it's not me…!')

In reality, Tony only felt a slight constriction in his throat. Nothing that a clearing of it wouldn't get rid of before he spoke, the speakers from the helmet of the voice projecting the cockiness loud and clear. "Well… you know how super soldiers work. Unlike oh say… a hydra, when you cut one head off, it doesn't grow back!"

Blue eyes widened from beneath the mask, staring up at Tony in disbelief. Steve was so stunned he barely had the reflexes to be able to bring up the shield just as Iron Man dove to fight him on the ground.

"We don't have to do this…!" the soldier growled and only just barely began to fight back, dodging one of the repulsor blasts and using his shield to bat the suit of armor further away.

"Oh on the contrary, Steven," Tony scoffed and wasn't against shooting forward again, maneuvering the suit to swoop past the next swing of the shield, delivering a firm metal boot into the leader's shoulder. "I think we do!"

There was no mercy in the way that Captain America caught hold of Iron Man's boot, heaving and throwing the suit upon the ground with all of his strength. However there was mercy in the way that his face crumpled as soon as he heard the collision of concrete with metal—

"You're just as soft as they say," Iron Man whispered as he activated the jet at the bottom of his foot, knocking Steve away none too kindly.

Standing, not minding the flaring red signs in the suit that there was a remarkable amount of damage from the shield and superhuman strength alone, Tony continued as he stepped forward. "Look at you, trying to be the hero—you're no more of a hero than I am, Rogers. You're just a mindless soldier."

('We're not soldiers. None of us are soldiers, we're just men, we're men saving the world or avenging it. Sometimes we're heroes, don't say that.')

"Mindless soldier…?" Steve coughed and pushed himself to his feet again, wiping away the blood from his lip and not minding the trickle that fell down the side of his face, "Last I checked, you're the one following orders from the god here, Tony—

"… and you don't have to," he whispered, pleading again. "You don't deserve this."

(And Tony's insides lurched because what if he did, Steve?

What if he did deserve this for all the people he ordered around without a second thought, expecting the world to revolve around him and his whims? What if maybe this was just the universe biting him in the ass and putting him in the subjugation position—reminding him that most of the time, he was actually the asshole on the other side?

What if this was his lesson?

The burning feeling in his chest. The way he loved to be loved. The want to be wanted.

The need to be needed.)

"You're hardly in the place to tell me what I do or don't have to do, you know?" Tony raised both brows, testing the words on his lips before shrugging. "But hey, if you still want to give orders, fearless leader, go right on ahead."

Blue eyes were locked on blue as Tony lifted the face plate again, getting a good look of the battered, beaten Captain America that stood before him.

"But you know," he hummed and lifted his palm to the fallen soldier, feeling the hum of energy stir to life. "I'm going to have to ask that you actually make them your last requests."

('Get away.'

Tony had that falling feeling all over again.

'Steve, you're going to lose.')


Loki was certain that he had managed to catch her, just one more blast away from successfully blowing the pesky girl right out of the sky (and he would only be a little bit sorry, if only because he did like her spunk)—

Until it was instead one of the damned archer's arrows that caught him off-guard.

Just as he had gotten on his feet, it would seem that the foolish team had formed some strange semblance of togetherness—and it sounded bitter even in his thoughts—leaving it as only a mild surprise when the great, green, hulking creature roared before tackling Loki right into a very familiar room indeed.

"Enough!" he commanded, just as the brute began to turn to him again. He pursed his lips to hide how he grit his teeth, assuming the posture of a king over the beast.

What a beast indeed—practically a giant in his own right. Everything about the creature was large and lumbering, from the way it stepped and swayed to the bestial and feral look in its eyes. Yes, this was indeed some sort of nightmare that had been conjured up in the minds of children left in the dark for too long.

This was the sort of monster that parents told their children about at night.

Loki knew a thing or two about being a monster wrapped up in skin that didn't belong to him.

It sent a tingle of sorts down his spine as he locked eyes with the oafish thing, feeling repulsion and hatred ripple through his entire being. Simple, primitive, and disgusting—

This 'Hulk' as they called it may as well have been a Frost Giant painted green.

Before he could think to help it, Loki's mouth curled into a cruel grin. "Stunning. Simply stunning to see you in your true skin, Dr. Banner. How does it feel, hm? How does it feel to know that the world that you are so desperate to protect will only fear and hate you when brought face to face with this beast?"

The monstrosity seemed to huff its aggravation, taking a brutish step to the left, nostrils flaring.

"Yes, that's it," the god laughed, "Show what little emotion that you're capable of, beast! Maybe you'll find someone to take pity upon you—but who could possibly manage to even tolerate someone so vile?"

The Hulk shook in response to that, lips parting in a gross grimace, teeth far too large and expression too primitive for any higher life form. He swayed back and forth a few times, brow furrowing and some syllables passed through his lips as if he was trying to communicate—

It took some time before Loki realized that the beast was answering his question.

Two syllables were enough to form a name.

"I don't believe in monsters."

Loki was not sure if it was the revelation or the sudden leap of the green creature that made his eyes widen. He was not sure if it was the words conjured up by his traitorous memory or the Hulk's hand grabbing at him that made his chest ache. He was most unsure if it was that terrible mortal or the sheer brute strength of the beast that made him so weak—

So unable to fight back as he was thrown against the ground over and over.

Eventually it ended.

Loki didn't make a noise, much as his body protested and his lesser instincts tried to coax it out of him. No, he only remained still in stunned silence as the beast trudged away—

"Puny god," the Hulk spat in low tones.

And that, Loki lamented, was the beast that his mortal loved.

(Yet somewhere far, far in the back of his mind, there formed a lie that even the Trickster could not persuade himself to truly believe.

But he still hoped that maybe Tony could possibly—

… No. He would not let himself believe.)


Clint had attested to Fury before this whole mess even happened, "I see better from afar."

Despite what jokes may have been said about how he simply enjoyed being able to hang out in his nest as opposed to being with everyone else on the ground, it stood true.

So his brow furrowed just after he loosed another arrow, leaving the archer shifting at his perch.

"Well, that's disheartening," he murmured softly to himself.

Cryptic as it was, he couldn't quite pull his eyes away from the tragic sight of a flagpole flying the American colors making its descent.


A/N: As always, your reviews are more than welcome.