Crystal eyes few open and after a bit of confusion about having eyes his mind soon followed into consciousness. His heart beat wildly and yet he found himself almost incapable of moving immediately. Sleep, he found, was a troublesome thing. It dulled this body, making it so hard get up. He had had no idea where he was, except that he was in some sort of bedroom. Had he been properly awake or even aware that he was not properly awake he might of just looked about, not using his eyes because he was obviously still in Stark Tower. Still he was a little preoccupied with a single man entering his domain, a man he was wholly not fond of.

After a few minutes he recognised Mister Rogers apartment. He would of looked over the room in more detail had he not been just shy of panicking. As soon as his mind cleared of the fog of sleep he leapt out of Mr Rogers' bed before tripping over his own feet and falling flat on his face. He barely recognised that he was no longer the height the should of been before scrambling back up and darting out the door. His breathing was somewhat harsh in a way that had never happened before. He was becoming less fond of being in a human body by the second. It was just tedious, all this breathing and tripping, it was horrible.

"Mr Rogers!" he gasped. He might of not been able to walk more than a few steps without having to steady himself, but at least he was polite. He bent over the back of the couch leaning over Mr Rogers' face. He was holding a pillow tightly to his chest and his eyes were closed, his breathing deep and his mouth half open. Had this been any other occasion Jarvis probably would of paused to take in how peaceful the captain look when he slept, unfortunately there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Mr Rogers" he hissed again, reaching down and shaking his shoulder. He could see the man walking down his corridors, shooting fake smiles the tired workers. This was wrong, the security department should of picked up on this. Why was it only him and why was Happy still at his station? "Mr Rogers!" he said it a little louder now, knowing that if he couldn't wake the captain he would have to leave him. Another pair of blue eyes nothing like his own flew open, staring at him like he was an alien, which wasn't far off considering that he was created by one. Brief confusion fled to recognition which fled to alarm.

"J-Jarvis" Jarvis really didn't know why Me Rogers felt compelled to say his name and he really didn't care, it comforted him all the same.

"Do you remember that woman I told you about? The one in the cafeteria?" Jarvis's words were half jumbled, his tongue as hopeless as his feet when panicked. Mr Rogers nodded, looking confused and startled. His was hand gripping Jarvis' bare forearm, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. "Her husband is here. He wants to hurt her! I don't know what to do!" Jarvis' teeth were gritted and he hadn't the faintest idea why, but they just were. It wasn't uncommon for Stark workers to stay back late into the night. The scientists all had bed in there labs when they were too tired to do anything, but collapse. Mr Rogers looked him dead in the eyes, his face serious and filled with anger and adrenaline that he was barely holding back.

"Jarvis, are you sure? Are you sure they aren't just going to talk?" Jarvis couldn't blame him for being sceptical, but he wouldn't of alerted him if he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was doing, that was the way he had been programmed.

"He's already in her office" that was all it took to get the captain awake and acting like a solider. Without so much as word in protest he was tugged out of the room at a pace that alarmed his tangled feet. He came very close to tumbling into the captain's back, but somehow he managed to stay upright. He found running to be something he was not fit for. Sure, some muscle was there and he wasn't weak by any human standards, but the rate that he was being dragged down the corridors was like being dragged behind a jet with blond hair. He yanked his arm out of the captain's grip, his self preservation instincts kicking in, realising that the captain was not currently aware of his own strength and the weakness of Jarvis's newborn bones.

He saw the man, the woman's husband specifically, kick open the door to the beginning of the office sector for media control. It sent a twitch of pain up his arm, but it was barely noticeable. Ah, he thought, so I am still connected to the mainframe. I still get to felt that pain. Goodie. The twist in his forearm was nothing in his mind when the man went to the electricity box in the corner of the and threw something inside it before snapping it shut again and blocking his ears. The explosive he had first used to detect the man's bad intentions promptly exploded inside the electricity panel and his vision was cut off from the office section. He felt the disconnection before he felt the pain. This time it was in his right shoulder, drawing blood and tearing flesh. He hissed as the pain spread through his oh so human veins like a disease. He felt blood begin to soak though the shirt that wasn't even his at an alarming rate. God, this body was so weak. At least when he wasn't physical he could just scream in silence and only feel the pain in his head, side effects like blood just sucked. No wonder Loki thought so lowly of the humans.

"Dammit" he hissed, scowling as he pressed his hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. While he wasn't too happy with the body he didn't exactly want it to dry out. He could only thank the gods of the good hair day that the captain didn't hear his initial pained grunt. He blessed the man's focus.

The blood was insufferable, but he had been hurt before, god, the attack on New York had almost killed him, and he had things to do. He started mouthing words, his brows furrowed. He didn't need to mouth the words, it just distracted him. He had already alerted Happy and his trigger happy minions, but there was more things to do. He had already stopped all elevator functions aside from the shaft that the captain was heading towards. He was sure that it was open when they got there, it also went at a little faster than usual, well, to be fair it was quite a bit faster than usual. So much faster that usual in fact that Mr Rogers looked over to him, which was of course when he saw the blood. His face went from confused to alarmed just like it had when he had awoken. Jarvis could see it in the mirror of the elevator door. He kept his eyes straight ahead while Mr Roger's stared at his shoulder and the blood coursing from it.

"Don't, seriously just don't" his voice came out a growl, low and annoyed. He was in pain and currently embedded in a very serious procedure that involved a lot of men with guns and bad attitudes, he did not want to start an awkward, concerned conversation with Captain America. He had better things to do.

Somehow Steve managed to restrain himself from shaking Jarvis until he was told why he was bleeding, perhaps it was because Jarvis was scowling so much it looked like his face might rip and Steve didn't think it wise to give it anymore reasons to stay. Instead he just faced forward while the elevator sped up the shaft and Jarvis's blood began to drip onto the metallic floor. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them had the guts. Steve saw Jarvis twitch suddenly, his breath hitching and the elevator sped up even more, to the point where it felt dangerous.

"He's found her" was all he said. Half a second later they came to an abrupt stop, making both the men stumble slightly. Steve immediately looked to Jarvis, to make sure he was alright when he already knew he wasn't. Jarvis only winced slightly at the jolt that ran through his shoulder, making the bleeding far more rapid. It was only a small movement, there one second, gone the next, but Steve caught it, the sign that Jarvis could feel it. He had to hand it to him, the guy was made of some tough stuff, he wasn't even biting his lip and he hadn't yelled out when it had happened, however he had managed it. Tony was going to kill him, especially when he saw his baby covered in blood.

The doors of the elevator slid open where two of the cleaning robots were waiting. So Jarvis hadn't yet lost control of the building despite the fact that he was bleeding from a wound that he shouldn't have had. Another thing he had to congratulate him for, the way that this guy multitasked was remarkable. Steve had struggled to get his mind around the fact that Jarvis was the person that did everything. The hardest worker in the whole damn building could do his work in his sleep. He vowed silently that he would demand to know what was wrong with the bleeding man's shoulder after. He would've asked then, but Jarvis was pushing him, while the cleaning robots mopped up the blood. The whole floor was cold and dark, but they could hear yelling. Steve could just make out scorch marks on the wall and his eyes darted nervously back at Jarvis' shoulder, a theory occurred to him. But no, that wasn't possible. He could just imagine was the battle of New York would've felt like if it was.

Steve went into the woman's office first, it was a silent agreement that Jarvis would be the one to look after the woman and he would be the one to tackle the husband. As soon as his eyes landed on the scene he saw red. The woman was cowering next to her desk, her top ripped from where she had been grabbed. She was crying, fearful. The man on the other hand stood above her, he had taken his belt off, but it was obvious that he wasn't planning on taking off his pants. He had the strip of leather above his head, looking to strike her with it. That is, he was before he was tackled by Captain America who happened to be very, very pissed off.

Jarvis darted around the husband and Mr Roger's as they fought and headed towards the woman who was staring at them both astonished and fearful, as it was perfectly rightful to be. She was being confronted by two men who looked like they had just gotten out of bed; the first the infamous captain America, the second a beautiful stranger who was half covered in blood. Jarvis smiled at her, to soothe the fear in her eyes. She relaxed just slightly, but he could see her looking at her husband who was currently being beaten half to death by Mr Rogers.

"Ma'm, I'm going to need you to come with me please" He held out his less bloodied hand to her and she looked at it mystified. He officially hated using the side that the wound was on, but he still doubted that she would've appreciated having her hand smeared with the blood of a stranger. She still seemed hesitant so he smiled again. "Please don't worry, I just need to get to the medical bay to stitch myself up and I would like some company" He made his words seem as though it was her who would be doing him a favour rather than the other way round. It usually worked for Mr Stark after all. Still with hesitance in her movements she took his hand and he helped her to rise as much as it pained him. As soon as she was upright she stumbled, but Jarvis caught her and tried to support her as much as her could. God, it was so painful. The wound wasn't even close to fatal, but it still "hurt like a bitch ". He had heard the phrase come from Mr Stark's mouth many times and it suddenly felt entirely appropriate. They stood for a second, and watched as Mr Rogers refused to let the husband get any punches in, not that he would of, he was already unconscious.

"Mr Rogers" his voice was slightly louder than it usually was, firmer. The captain immediately looked up, still holding the man's collar. The woman looked away at the sight of her husband's bloodied face. "That is enough" Jarvis looked down at him, not bothering to hide his disapproval. "Wait with him here for security to arrive" Then they left, the woman's arm over his shoulders and his arm around her waist. The darkness of the sector of offices unnerved him, but he could still find his way. Thank god the medical bays were on the same level. He purposely took a route that he knew the security team and Happy wouldn't be taking. The woman was already in shock, there was no need to make her confront a large amount of men with guns and bullet proof vests.

"My daughter..." the woman croaked. Jarvis nodded almost to himself. That was what he had been doing in the elevator. While he did know a lot of people's secrets he also knew a lot of general information. Like how this woman had a three year old daughter at home and Mr Rogers was a Capricorn.

"Already taken care of. Your sister is currently going around to your house to make sure she's okay. There is nothing to worry about" He smiled down at the woman, trying to be as reassuring as atomically possible and the woman seemed to immediately relax.

"You sound a lot like Jarvis" she mentioned dazedly. He smiled for real this time. Yup, he was doomed. The woman looked a lot older than him, but then again he was eight so everyone was older than him.

"I have had this body for no more that 48 hours and you are already the 28th person to tell me that" The woman looked up at him, confused and he shook his head. "Never mind. The reason I sound like Jarvis is because my voice was recorded for his creation" Yeah, that sounded like a good enough excuse. He mentally congratulated himself for his quick thinking, all the while informing Happy that he was going to need a medical team on standby for the husband.

"Well..." the woman mused, quietly, her eyes looking forward as they entered the medical bay. He immediately lifted her up by her waist as if she was a child and sat her on one of the beds. "if you aren't Jarvis, who are you?" It sounded like a fair question. He wandered about the medical bay for a second wondering what name he should give.

"My name's Edgar" if you were to ask his creator he would say something about an anagram concerning his AI's cleverness, but he knew for a fact he had been named after one Edgar Jarvis, Howard Stark's butler. He quickly recovered the things he would need to stitch himself up. He was certain he could do it. He had thousands of medical books on file, he knew what he would have to do.

"Edgar's an old name" the woman mused carefully, her eyes dazed, but tears still in the process of pooling.

"It it. My father is very sentimental, he named me after an old friend" that was accurate enough. He was sure that Mr Stark wouldn't off been liked being called his father or sentimental, but they were the most accurate labels he could manage. His eyes darted towards her and her greenish pallor then back at the various tools in his hands. "If you are feeling squeamish I would recommend turning around. Doubt this isn't going to be pretty" she nodded and carefully moved to the other side of the bed with her back to him. He seated him on the bed next to her's and began to take off Mr Rogers shirt, peeling it really. He was glad he had gotten a towel. The wound wasn't that deep, he could sew it up easily. There was nothing to panic about, still he grunted when he dabbed alcohol on it after washing away the blood.

"So what do you here Mr Edgar?" She was obviously trying to distract him from the fact that he was literally sewing himself back together after being literally blown apart. It worked... to a merger extent.

"I run the computer systems that keep the building running" it was the closest adaptation he could think of. He winced, in out, in out.

"What? Just you? Are you the head of the tech department?" She sounded surprised. That probably had to do with how young he looked. He smiled as he worked, trying his best not to move his arm. He pulled the string tight and almost groaned. Oh, how he hated this body.

He snorted at her words. "I am the tech department. I created all of the systems and keep them going. From security to scheduling" he laughed lightly. "Though if you were to ask him Mr Stark would tell you I'm his personal assistant or something along those lines" he could practically hear the woman's smile. To make him feel somewhat better that she was capable of smiling, though he thought he saw a faint trace of sadness.

"I guess that's how you knew I was in trouble then, huh?" She said slowly. Jarvis quickly tied a knot in the sting and looked down at his handiwork. For someone who had never touched a needle and thread in his life and hadn't previously had fingers it wasn't half bad.

Well, the whole eyes everywhere thing helps but… "Yeah" he said lightheartedly, not quite knowing way to say. He wasn't good with these things. Instead he just got to work on dealing with the bandages and gauze.

"Have you ever been in love Mr Edgar?" She asked, looking back at him slightly, her eyes trained on his own rather than his shoulder before turning back, her whole form slumped. He shook his head quietly,

"No, no one has ever made me look at them like that" it was hard to figure out the concept of love when you're a voice in the celling and you have better things to do.

"Well, don't let this ruin it for you" he was surprised by her words, but he didn't look up from the fumbling bandages as he tried to get to stay using the little grippy thing. "One day, probably soon, someone will come into your life and you won't be able to breath. Maybe it'll take a while, but once you realise it you'll want to rip out your heart and present it to this person. It'll be amazing" she was musing, not quite paying attention to what she was saying, but he listened anyway. He liked the idea, he had no idea what it signified or even what it meant, but he liked the notion nonetheless. "Don't let what you saw tonight make you think love doesn't happen because it does. Sometimes... Sometimes it goes bad, but it's always there, somewhere in the world"

She looked like she was about to start crying, perhaps she was. He wouldn't of blamed her if she had. He didn't reply to her words, something told him they weren't actually for him. Instead he simply stared forward, bandaged and bloodied and deeply disappointed. He didn't know what he was disappointed in, perhaps it was just the world in general. The grand scheme of things really didn't seem to be screaming happy-go-lucky slogans. Actually they were screaming what he already knew only in much louder voices than usual.

People really fucking suck.

Author's notes:

oh thank bloody fuck, praise The Lord and call me an alien, I am so glad that I finished this. It took me so long, and I am about to pass out from exhaustion. Damn the educational system and all sits bloody perks. Hope liked this.

Much love,

Clementine