Hey everyone! Sorry this took so long. This is mostly fluff and I have to say, I've always struggled with it. Also, I had a ridiculously busy couple of months at school and whatnot.

Just a warning, I wanted to try a new kind of writing, using mostly flashbacks, so this chapter is kind of shorter than all my other ones. Let me know if it works though. :)

Anyway, disclaimer: I don't own any Marvel products. And please read and review as always! There should be one more chapter - an epilogue, but read the end notes because I'd like to throw out some ideas and get some suggestions.

Please enjoy!

Chapter 6

Steve turned onto his left side for what seemed to be the hundredth time, huffing in annoyance. He wasn't sure how late it was, but sleep had eluded him for hours. This time, it wasn't because he would see Tony covered in blood whenever he closed his eyes. No, his insomnia was caused by him desperately missing the bundle of warmth that was usually curled up against his side, cuddling and hugging him.

He shifted again, sighing as he tried to find a comfortable position on the large couch in Tony's living room. After Tony's outburst earlier and between the various treatments that Bruce had him on, somehow, Steve found himself shooed away. More surprised than hurt, Steve hadn't realized that Tony was actually going to make do on his threat, but he guessed he deserved it. And it wasn't a problem until now. Since when did it become virtually impossible to fall asleep without hearing Tony's breathing in his ear or seeing the dim lighting of his reactor?

Giving up on sleeping, Steve flung himself onto his back and frowned at the white ceiling, as if it was at fault. His restless mind wandered back to what happened a few hours ago after Tony had confronted the rest of the members of the Avengers.

It was obvious that Tony's strength had waned long before he even returned to his mansion, but had hidden fairly well it until his body gave out on him. When he collapsed, the Avengers had gone into a frenzy. Clint had frantically run around to grab every single first aid kit in the house (totaling to about fifty-two sets); Natasha had maintained some sense of dignity and simply proceeded to stare at Tony wheezing and gasping with a sort of hidden emotion glowing in her eyes. Steve had reached out to comfort his boyfriend, but his frantic panic had made him misjudge his super strength. He had barely laid a hand on Tony's shoulder when the billionaire had torn himself away, curling sideways into Bruce's chest. The sight of torment of the genius' face was enough to make Steve's heart twist to the point he felt nauseous.

"Jesus!" Tony swore quietly, almost hissing. "Fuck!"

"I'm so sorry, Tony! I'm so sorry!" Steve immediately started to ramble.

"Not you…" panted Tony, his pale face growing incredibly whiter.

Bruce frowned from his position behind the billionaire. "Is it your back?" he asked before snapping at Clint for bringing over a fifth medical kit, "Stop it, Clint! One is enough!"

Clint's eyes widened for a brief second before he skittered away into the vents again. Bruce just shook his head and glanced back down at Tony whose eyes had fallen shut. His face had taken on an unhealthy pallor and cold sweat was breaking out on his brow. He was struggling to breathe, wincing each time he took inhaled and exhaled. No doubt the pain killers had lost their effectiveness and he was now feeling the full brunt of his broken ribs. The helicopter fiasco had certainly done a number on Tony's already weakened body, but there wasn't much he could do here in the living room.

"Natasha, do you think you can get Tony's room ready?" Bruce said, looking up at the master spy. He froze for a second, finally realizing that, ironically, he was the only one in the room that was keeping a level head about this.

Emotion was cracking through Natasha's mask, almost like she had no control over how much bleed out. Her eyes were watery; her lips were pursed and lines on her face indicated how worried she really was.

If Tony had noticed, no doubt he would have made a quip about how she actually feels, but that wasn't important right now.

"Natasha…" Bruce said again, quietly.

Instantly, she snapped to attention; the emotion disappearing to a mere strange gleam in her eyes. She nodded and vanished as quickly as Clint. Bruce had every faith in her that by the time they reached Tony's room, there would be a mountain of blankets, pillows, buckets of water, and likes to ensure that Tony was more than a hundred percent comfortable.

Bruce turned to the super human. "Steve, I need you to carry Tony."

The soldier hesitated. "What if I hurt him again?"

"Wasn't you…" Tony gasped, "'sides, trust you, Steve..." He trailed off, but the point was made. Tony waved a weak hand.

More reluctant than anything, Steve gently and cautiously slid his arms under Tony's knees and behind his shoulders. He could feel Tony tensing within his grasp as he lifted him up. Tony breathed slowly and closed his eyes to the spinning world.

"You okay?" Steve asked, worried.

Tony nodded, not trusting his voice. He lolled his head against Steve's broad chest, smiling softly despite the pain. Steve's soft footsteps and heartbeats acted sang like a lullaby and Tony was asleep long before he even reached his room.

As expected, Tony's bed had already been made and Natasha standing by the door, waiting on hand if anyone needed anything. Bruce bustled around, setting up the various IV's that Tony needed and sterilizing a few things here and there. Only after Bruce gave the all-clear sign did Steve set his boyfriend down carefully.

Steve tucked the billionaire in and lovingly brushed aside a strand of hair before kissing him on the forehead.

"Take care of him, Bruce," he said quietly.

Bruce gave him a concerned glance, confusion clearly written in his eyes, but he just nodded in response.

Silently, Steve padded out with Natasha following him.

"Captain, what are you planning on doing?" she asked as soon as the door shut behind her.

"You said that the Enchantress is still alive. Is she still with S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know?"

Steve didn't answer outright. "Can you fly me there?"

"I'll take you," Clint said, popping down from a vent. "Tasha isn't allowed near her anymore. And I have my own score I gotta settle with that bitch."

"Thanks. Take care of Tony for me, Natasha. We'll be back soon."

"Remember, Fury wants her alive, but if you need help getting rid of the body, just let me know."

She had meant it as a joke, but when Steve didn't react in horror as usual, she felt a jolt of alarm rush through her. Clint made eye contact with her and almost telepathically, he let her know that he would keep an eye on their hurting friend, but that was of little comfort to her.

After the incident with Loki, Clint didn't take to being controlled very well. In fact, Natasha knew that if she didn't get her hands on the witch first, Hawkeye would have torn the Asgardian apart from limb to limb. Though she had the reputation of being the most ruthless spy in all of S.H.I.E.L.D., most didn't know that her mercilessness was nothing compared to the archer when he was out for blood. There wasn't much that Clint or Natasha held dear, so they would felt tooth and nail to protect whatever it was that managed to worm itself into their guarded hearts. And Tony was Clint's best friend.

You don't mess with a pissed off Hawkeye.

But Clint and Steve were gone before Natasha could protest.

Steve could see the confusion and worry on her face before he rushed off. He knew that she was seconds from pulling some aerobatic move and sitting on him. Though he could understand her sentiments, he was not about to let her stop him.

The Enchantress was going to learn that a pissed off American was not something to be trifled with…

Steve huffed with satisfaction when he thought back to Natasha's expressions. It wasn't very often that the spy let something slip through. He felt almost…proud that he had managed to elicit such responses from the red-head. Tony would have been proud.

A gloom filled him as he thought of his boyfriend, but that was shadowed slightly by his short trip with the archer.

The quinjet had been silent when they left Tony's mansion. How Clint and Natasha had managed to hide such a vehicle within Tony's already filled garage was beyond him, but he knew better to question it. He had been quite glad for it, and even more so when Clint had flown the plane swiftly. He could tell that Clint didn't really know what to say. Hell, if he was in Clint's position, he wouldn't have known either. He knew that he had probably seemed angry with his jaw clenched and his eyes steely hard, but truth to be told, he was doing a damn fine job hiding his true wrath.

The bitch (pardon his language) had messed with his boyfriend, and she had to pay.

They had been flying for about half an hour now. Steve kept his eyes glued on the sky zooming past him, noticing the furtive glances that Clint kept shooting towards him.

He sighed, "Did you want to ask me something, Clint?"

"Not particularly."

A tight smile appeared on Steve's face as he turned to look at the pilot. "Liar."

Clint looked hesitant. "Are you…?" He didn't finish his question because Steve's blue eyes rolled with exasperation.

"If you ask me if I'm alright, I'm going to punch you."

Barton chuckled, "I see that Stark is rubbing off on you. What is America going to think when they realize that their golden boy has been corrupted?"

"And that's a bad thing?" Steve quipped back.

"Not at all. I like this side of you, Cap. Much more fun."

"I try."

"Even got the sarcasm down," laughed Clint, "Careful, you'll start to sound like JARVIS."

"I don't think JARVIS will appreciate that comment."

Clint paused, getting to the crux of his questioning. "You know that the bitch is going to be under heavy security. How are you going to get past them? Do you have a plan?"

"Director Fury will let me see her."

"Not if you look like you'll be a risk to her life. Fury has made it very clear that she is to be kept alive for the information that she has."

"He'll let me see her," the soldier insisted.

"How do you know? S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't known to be very cooperative when it comes to things like this."

Steve looked away, staring back out the window. "He'll let me. He has to. I have to talk with her." He exhaled and his voice dropped to almost a whisper, "Otherwise, I'll never forgive myself."

A moment of silence. "I get it. I do, but don't throw a fit if you're not allowed."

"That's not really my concern."

There was a light quality to his tone and Clint smiled when he read between the lines.

"That's right, Cap, 'cause I got your back. Do me a favor for me though and leave a piece of her for me."

"I can't guarantee that…"

Steve had always considered himself as a good soldier. Always proper, always obedient. But no one realized it was because he had had no reasons to defy orders…until now. Fury had not been pleased when they arrived and had flatly refused letting Steve see the Enchantress. Clint was about snarl at Fury when Steve stepped forward, letting his broad frame naturally loom over the Director.

"You are letting me see her, Director. Or I swear to God, you will understand exactly how much the serum has enhanced me," Steve said quietly, his voice icy.

"Is that a threat, Captain?" Fury growled.

There was no hesitation. "Yes."

Fury and Steve had had a stare down and after a few tense minutes, Fury broke away first, huffing.

"Fine. But you get ten minutes. The second you lay a finger on her, you'll be out on your ass faster than you can say my name. Do you understand me?"

"Understood."

"She stays alive, do you hear me? And Barton, you stay out of this!"

Clint snarled, "I'm staying with him, Director."

Fury crossed his arms. "No."

"I'd like to see you stop me."

"I won't have to."

"Why not?"

"Because pretty boy already left."

And that was the last thing Steve had heard before he turned the corner to come to a stop in front of the door to the quarantined room. He had taken a deep breath, reached out, and grasped the handle.

He had pulled on the door hard, stepping into the room where the Enchantress lay bound and sedated on the bed.

It was now or never.

The Asgardian's dazed green eyes flashed onto Steve the moment he walked in. There was such hatred and coldness within her irises that would have made Steve freeze on any other day. But Steve was sure he had the same expression on his own face because she seemed to wilt before him. Whether it was because of her injuries or his domineering presence, Steve didn't care.

Gritting his teeth, he approached her, stopping a few inches away from her bedside.

"The American Captain…" she breathed, a maniacal smile appearing on her face. "It…."

"Shut up. You don't get to speak unless I let you. I won't hesitate to activate that collar on your neck or break a finger or two to get you to understand that."

Her mouth snapped shut.

"According to the Widow, you attacked us because you didn't like seeing Thor fraternize with mortals. I can understand that, given how damn insane you are. What I don't understand is that you clearly targeted Tony above everyone else. Why?"

She remained muted, defying him.

Steve leaned down, pressing his large hands on her shoulder where an arrow wound lay hidden beneath her clothes. She jerked, her face going pale and a gasp escaping her lips.

A weak chuckle bubbled out of her. "I am honestly surprised, Captain. Never did I expect such belligerent behavior from you. Have I made you desperate?"

"No, you haven't. You have made me very angry, and you will regret that. Now answer my question," he growled, pressing down a little harder.

The Enchantress let out a quiet yelp before gathering her breath. "The Man of Iron flies around as if the sky is his. He taunts the Gods with his very existence when he is merely a man – an inconsequential human. A lesson had to be taught."

"You're right. Tony is more human than anyone else on this team, but that's what makes him the greatest out of all of us. So what gives you the fucking right to teach him a 'lesson'? No, it's not Tony that has to learn. It's you and everyone else that has the stupid idea that it's alright to mess with us."

Ice and venom dripped from Captain America's voice. "There are repercussions to hurting one of our own. Severe repercussions. What you have experienced so far is nothing compared to what lies in your future. You will suffer excruciatingly and intimately, in every way you fear, for hurting someone that I love, for using us as your pawns. You will come to regret ever hearing the name of Tony Stark and the Avengers."

"Will you be the one to kill me?" taunted the Enchantress, "Will my blood be on your hands? How will America react to that? How will your lover fare? I think my death will be worth it, Captain America the Murderer."

At this, Steve gave her a feral smile, digging his fingers into her wound. A scream echoed around him and he only felt satisfied. "I don't need to dirty myself with you. You're not worth the dust on my feet. But don't fret, Enchantress. I may not want you, but there are so many others that would love to take my place here. One of them is standing outside right now. The other will haunt you in your dreams, tearing your sanity apart with his green arms. I don't think the Widow is quite done with you either."

"If you survive, and that is 'if', do me a favor and let the rest of the universe know about the Avengers. We are fiercely protective of our own and there will be repercussions. I dare you or anyone else to try, but I cannot guarantee that you will come out the other end intact."

He let her go abruptly. "Good-bye, Enchantress. I hope you go to hell."

Captain America turned and stepped away, but not before he saw her trembling slightly under her covers. With a grim look on his face, he jerked the door open to see Clint leaning casually on the wall next to it. His arms were crossed against his chest and he glanced up at Steve when the Captain came to a stop before him.

Clint only raised an eyebrow at Steve. "Bitch still alive?"

He nodded, "She's all yours."

A mask of ruthlessness and malice fell into place. "Good. Give me ten minutes and we'll head back home."

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent slipped into the room and seconds later, Steve heard more screams and pleas filter into the hallway. He felt his stomach churn. As much as he needed to be so cruel to the Enchantress, it didn't mean that he enjoyed it. He just wasn't cut out for threats, but it didn't mean that he wouldn't dole them out when it was needed.

Then Clint's words hit him. He had called Tony's mansion "home".

His heart swelled and a warm smile made its way onto his face.

For the first time since the Enchantress appeared, Steve truly felt and believed that everything was going to be alright.

And suddenly, Steve couldn't wait to go home to his Tony – to his family.

Speaking of which, there was still quite a lack of Tony's presence currently. Tony hadn't woken up for another hour until after Steve and Clint returned. Steve had tried to sit by Tony's side or even curl up with him on the bed, but after unconsciously treating Tony like glass, the genius had kicked him out, saying that the couch was now his. Steve and the rest of the team hadn't thought that Tony would really have carried out his threats made earlier in the day, but no one wanted to argue with him.

Steve sighed again. "JARVIS, what time is it?" he asked.

"It is 1:18 in the morning, sir."

Steve groaned.

"Perhaps you should seek out Master Stark's company, Captain Rogers," JARVIS suggested quietly, his voice concentrated in Steve's general vicinity. "It seems that Master Stark is also having difficulties falling asleep."

Steve sat up in alarm. "Is it his injuries? Is he alright?"

"Medically, he is sound. He is having difficulties sleeping for the same reason you are, Captain. Sir will not admit it, but he is in need of your presence as well."

A slight smile appeared on Steve's face as he murmured his thanks to the AI. Silently, he padded over to Tony's room and slipped into the darkness, closing the door behind him.

Tony raised his head from his pillow at the sound and cracked a warm smile at Steve.

"Hey," Steve said softly.

"Hey, yourself," Tony replied.

Steve couldn't help himself. "I thought you weren't talking to me for an entire day."

"And I thought that I booted you to the couch," Tony retorted, smirking. "That worked out well. Come here, you big lug."

Steve's eyebrow rose in confusion at the name, but he still crossed the room quickly and shimmied under the covers. He was careful to avoid the IV that was stuck in Tony's right arm and positioned himself around Tony, who had strict orders to stay on his left side.

Tony made a sort of purring noise when Steve had wrapped himself around him. The billionaire's head was snuggled into the Captain's chiseled chest and he pressed himself against his lover. Steve chuckled softly and tangled his right fingers into his hair. Tony could feel Steve's breath rippling against his scalp and the soft press of Steve's lips on top of his head, and he loved every second of it.

"Missed you…" Tony sighed, feeling more relaxed than he had in the past couple of weeks.

"Love you," Steve whispered back. The soldier entwined his left hand with Tony's right, letting them share the warmth.

"Love you, too."

They fell into companionable silence, letting it lull them to sleep. No words were needed; no apologies, no proclamations of never-ending love and fidelity were uttered. The presence of the other was simply enough, even with all the insecurities that plagued them on a daily basis.

They had each other, and that was enough.

That was all they had ever needed, though the rest of the team didn't seem to think so. When Steve woke in the morning at daybreak, he was pleased to see Tony looking much restful than he had in ages; the lines of his face had evened out and he was still curled against Steve, fast asleep. A snore caught Steve's attention and he shifted slightly to see Bruce on the other side of Tony. The scientist had pulled up a chair and was currently sleeping in an uncomfortable position with his feet propped up at the end of Tony's giant bed. Behind him, resting in a tightly packed ball was Natasha. Sometime during the night, she had claimed the couch – no doubt the reason why Bruce was forced to sleep in a chair.

Steve chuckled and glanced around the room for the last Avenger, but saw no trace of the archer. "Where's Barton?" he muttered, not quite realizing that he had spoken out loud.

"Try the top of the dresser," murmured Tony, sleep making his tone rough.

Steve almost jumped at his lover's voice. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No…" Tony mumbled, "Too early…"

The soldier merely shook his head fondly and rubbed his fingers in a soothing circle on Tony's hand, coaxing the genius back to sleep. Tony's words suddenly kicked in and Steve stretched his neck to see Barton curled on top of Tony's dresser. He smirked. He should've known.

Tony made a contented sound, cuddled within Steve's strong arms and surrounded by all the members of his precious, little family. Steve grinned into Tony's hair as he gave him a kiss.

Yep. All was right in the world and Steve wouldn't change it for anything.

To be continued...

So, Steve is a little bit harsh in this chapter, but I kind of think that it seems like a logical move. I mean, seriously, I pretty much pulverized Tony using the Enchantress. I think he's entitled to be a little angry. Not Hulk angry, obviously, but it seems to me that Captain America is really not somebody you should mess with anyway.

And I know it's a little short and I may improve or update it later to add more things, but that's dependent on the epilogue. I think I'll add Thor into the epilogue, but I'm not sure how well I can get his character. Is he supposed to be really silly and kind of childish? And I'm guessing that he's a loud person too? Any other questions left unanswered that I should cover in the epilogue? Please let me know and if you have any suggestions. Thanks!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please review!

~ Kanae Yuna