Hours later, a black car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Tony Stark stepped out of its plush interior. He had been in his lab, attempting to break the layers of heavy encryptions on the assailant's computer when Banner had called. The physicist informed him that Steve's doctors were finished with the tests and he was ready to be transferred to the Tower under the Avengers' escort. Stark had quickly instructed JARVIS to continue attacking the machine and had returned to the hospital.

He nodded his head at Natasha who was dressed in civilian's clothes and was standing outside the entrance, silently evaluating everyone who passed by. She tilted her head slightly and Tony followed the angle to see Hawkeye perched on the second floor of the parking garage, mumbling into a walkie-talkie. He didn't know where Thor was, but since he was a betting man, he'd put money on the fact that the god was searching for any Asgardian means of helping Steve.

The wide doors slid open and he waltzed into the hospital, intending to bypass the information desk. The hospital employees apparently had other plans because, two steps later, a large hand clasped his bicep and yanked him towards a temporary security station in the corner.

"Hey!" he yelped as gloved hands began patting his sides. He tried to pull away but a large guard stepped into his path.

"It's standard procedure now if you want to see Captain Rogers."

Tony pushed his sunglasses down his nose and fixed the guard with his best glare. "You know who I am, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark and I am sorry for the inconvenience," the man said, not looking the least bit apologetic.

Stark raised his hands slightly in mock surrender, muttering, "You asked for it," under his breath.

Tony didn't stop speaking through the entire patdown, offering his best but also his dirtiest jokes delivered with his signature snark. Though they did not respond to any of his quips, the slight reddening in the guards' faces was worth the satisfaction.

I hope you're thankful, Rogers, he groused as he reluctantly handed over his driver's license. After all, he was going through all this just to get the soldier out of the hospital.

"My hair? Really?" he groaned as the man lightly patted the spiky tips. "I know it's fabulous but this is getting a bit ridiculous," he rolled his eyes dramatically and spotted the younger guard reaching for his red and gold briefcase.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he cautioned.

The guard looked up quickly, quickly pulling back his hands. "I have to—"

"If you don't want to end up extra crispy, I'd leave it alone."

The guard looked like he was going to insist, but the senior officer shook his head and handed back Tony's identification.

"It was nice talking to you too!" Stark shouted over his shoulder as he was rudely pushed down into abandoned hallway.

The heels of his shoes clicked ominously as he walked down the corridor flanked by two armed guards. He was required to show his ID to two more sentinels before they opened the reinforced steel door of the quarantine wing, revealing a large foyer with a two rooms at the far end. The thick door whooshed closed behind him and he heard the lock click.

He was halfway across the empty room when a far door opened and a black-clad figure clomped out.

Stark's eyes narrowed as he recognized Nick Fury, anger burning in his chest. If Coulson had just found out that Steve was compromised, then the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. most certainly had known.

And he hadn't done a damn thing about it, Tony thought as he tightened his grip on the Iron Man briefcase until his knuckles turned white.

"Stark," Fury nodded by way of greeting.

Tony clenched his jaw, barely managing to keep the vivid description of what he thought of the director to himself. This wasn't the time. He was here to collect Steve and Banner and escort them safely back to the tower. Then, he would pay a visit to Fury and give him a piece of his mind.

Well, that was the plan, anyway.

All reason flew out the window when Tony peered through the small window to see Steve angled upright in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the far wall. His stomach clenched painfully when he saw the emptiness in the Captain's eyes and the pained look of disbelief on his face. The super soldier looked like he had just found out Santa Claus wasn't real.

For some unbeknown reason, that look was Stark's undoing. Rage burned through him and he knew this confrontation couldn't wait.

"FURY!" he bellowed, sprinting down the hallway, grabbing the back of the Director's cape and spinning him around. Stark forced Fury against the wall and slammed his forearm into the darker man's windpipe, his other hand fisted in the rather soft material of the Director's suit.

"What the hell did you tell him?"

Fury viciously pushed his assailant backwards, attempting to twist out of Stark's hold, but the inventor held fast. "Release me Stark," he demanded, his voice low.

"Not until I get some answers," he wrapped his hand more tightly in the fabric. "Now, what did you tell Rogers?"

"It's. None. Of. Your. Business," Fury snarled.

"Bullshit." Tony shoved his forearm deeper into Fury's throat, his eyes flashing murderously. "You made this my business when you put us on the same team. You made this my business when your lackeys dropped him off at my tower without making sure he had proper medical attention. But most of all, you made this my business when you found out that his mission wasn't finished and you refused to tell the rest of us. Someone's gotta protect your golden boy and right now it sure as hell ain't you."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Fury threw himself forward, freeing himself from Stark's grasp. Breathing heavily, he straightened his suit. "I'm going to take into account what just happened, Stark, and not mention this to anyone."

Tony yanked his own jacket straight, stepped closer to Fury and stabbed a finger into the Director's face.

"You owe me," he growled, his eyes cold and dangerous and, for the first time, Fury felt genuinely afraid of what the billionaire could do to him. "What. Is. Wrong. With. Rogers."

There was a long moment of silence as the men glared menacingly at each other. Eventually, Fury cleared his throat. "You can't expect me to believe you didn't already know…"

Tony balked, his anger dissipating as the worst possible scenarios began racing through his mind. He knew he was ignoring the obvious but he needed it to be something else. It couldn't be the—

Then, he saw Fury shake his head, slowly, almost mournfully, his face taught with an emotion Tony had never seen there before. If he wasn't mistaken, it was most similar to…sadness.

His heart skipped a beat as his lightning fast mind connected the pieces.

"No," he breathed, a slight note of desperation in his voice.

Fury nodded. "Our best techs confirmed it earlier this morning," he spoke softly, his tone filled with regret. "They're working on synthesizing the serum again based on Erskine's notes."

"I want in," Tony announced without skipping a beat. "And I know Bruce will too."

Fury looked like he was going to deny Stark when the billionaire interrupted, "You don't get a choice."

"I do not take orders from you, Stark," the Director scowled. "I will allow you to work with my team, but they report to me. Not to Dr. Banner and certainly not to you."

Tony was about to retort when his phone began to buzz.

"Agent Romanov is calling, sir," JARVIS announced and, despite his current situation, Tony knew it would be wise of him to answer.

"This isn't over," he mouthed to the Director as he thumbed the accept button and Natasha's face appeared onscreen.

"What is wrong with Rogers?" the Widow questioned lightly but, even through the grainy video feed, Tony saw her jaw working.

"Give me that," Fury swiped at the phone but Stark held it out of reach.

"There's no use denying it!" They heard Clint shout. "We heard everything!"

Fury and Stark froze, staring at each other in confusion.

"How did you—"

"Your suit."

Stark pulled his briefcase to eye level, spying the small black square affixed to the bottom.

He pulled the phone close and glowered at the archer. "Payback's a bitch, Barton."

The screen dipped wildly and there was great shouting. "I demand to know what illness has befallen our Captain!" Thor boomed, pushing his way into view.

Tony swiftly dropped his phone in the Director's outstretched hand, raising his own and stepping backwards so Fury couldn't try to hand it back.

The other man pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off an impeding headache before responding, "Rogers' body has stopped creating the serum."

Thor inhaled sharply, having been given the quick summary of how Steve had become a national icon shortly after the god pledged his allegiance to the Avengers' Initiative. "I know not of what magic you use to project your guise, but I wish you here. You have made a foolish decision that has caused the injury of our Captain. In my land, our leaders are strong, caring…like Steve," he added in almost a whisper.

Then his expression hardened, his normally caring blue eyes morphing into chips of ice. "I demand you appear so we can duel for Steve's honor."

Fury blanched.

"I think we all feel the same way," Clint spoke up, crossing his arms and leaning back stoically. The Director's glare turned murderous, locking onto his usually obedient agent, but Barton didn't look away.

After a long moment, Nick took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose more tightly. "We can argue semantics all night, but at the end of the day, I wouldn't change the play. I've fought for this group, for all of you. You've asked for your freedom and I gave it to you. The Council would much rather track you under circumstances I cannot imagine you would find favorable," he added with a rather pointed look towards Stark. "I…" he scowled, "trust all of you to make your own decisions—you're big boys and girls. Rogers said he could fight and I believed him."

A door flew open behind them, startling both Stark and Fury, and Banner stepped out of the room adjacent to Steve's. "Did you think he could fight with a grade II concussion and his previous injuries?" the physicist asked. "Because that was his condition last night when the 'retrieval expert' broke in."

Fury took Bruce's arrival without so much as a raised eyebrow but he frowned at the doctor's insinuation. "We were trying to contain the situation before that happened. We were moments away from tracking his—"

"That doesn't change anything. You still didn't warn us." Stark snapped. "In case no one has filled you in, Rogers was about two and a half seconds from a bullet between the eyes. He's alive because we got there in time."

"If you're looking for an apology, you won't get it. Yesterday, I called a play and he ran the field. End of story." Fury shoved the phone back at Stark. "And while you're sitting around blaming me for what happened last night, know this: I've had my men going over every piece of evidence from Rogers' mission. That's why we were able to get a lead on their plan. That's why we were able to track their assassin. And that's why you were able to 'get there in time'."

With that, he spun on one heel and stormed towards the door. Banner broke into a light jog, quickly passing the Director and stepping into his path, his arms crossed firmly in front of his chest.

"I want to be on your team," he announced softly.

"Do I need to remind you, Dr. Banner, that your doctorate is not medical?"

"Do I need to remind you what happens when I get angry?" Bruce returned, his tone level.

Fury swallowed hard, his face contorting in displeasure. "Fine," he spat. "I'll have some of the samples sent to Stark Tower."

"Not good enough," Stark cut in again. "We want to see what you meant by Rogers' body stopped producing the serum. Now."

The Director aimed his searing glare at the inventor. "You do not—"

There was loud commotion in the hallway, interrupting the rest of his reprimand. Stark automatically reached for the small latch on his metal bracelet while Banner tensed, his eyes tinged with green.

With a loud grinding sound, the door swung unevenly open and Thor stepped into the hallway, followed quickly by the master assassins. The Norse god's expression was downright terrifying as he spied the Director and stepped angrily towards him, only to be barely restrained by Barton and Banner.

"What does that mean for his position at S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Romanov questioned, positioning herself between the thrashing Thor and Fury.

To his credit, the Director was again unfazed by the appearance of the other Avengers. "Captain Rogers will always have a place at S.H.I.E.L.D.," he replied evenly. "As I told Stark, we have our best technicians working to recreate the serum."

"I wasn't kidding, Eyepatch. I want to see what you mean," Tony repeated, completely ignoring the other Avengers' interruption and tapping his foot impatiently.

Fury exhaled loudly and pulled a phone from his pocket. The Avengers were silent while he dialed a number.

"Put Jesse on," he ordered. "Show them," he demanded after a moment. He pulled the phone away from his ear and held it up so all could see.

Onscreen, a young man came into view. He smiled while he adjusted the camera and flipped it around, training it on two blood samples that were being magnified onto a large white screen.

"The left was taken at Captain Rogers' last physical," he said with a slight Australian accent. "See the thicker blood cells? We believe those to contain the serum. As you can see, their saturation is extremely high, almost one in every pair of red blood cells."

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"Now look at yesterday's samples. The red blood cells are healthy but not as vibrant as the ones with the serum. There are hardly any of the larger red blood cells and, if you look closely at the white blood cell count, you can see it is much higher in the last batch of samples. Also, upon further analysis, we discovered the white cells are clinging to the plumper cells, leading us to assume they are attacking the serum. We're not sure why, but it's obvious there are few serum-infused cells left."

"How long has this been going on?"

The tech cleared his throat. "We weren't able to differentiate them before, given their high concentration, but, as you can see, the difference now is obvious. Given this information, we've been able to look back and realize the quantity of the serum cells has been dwindling since his last physical but has all but dropped off in the last few days."

"What progress have you made?"

The doctor shrugged. "Nothing yet but we're doing our best. The live samples are giving us the best opportunity to proceed. Assuming the serum was only meant to last Rogers' natural lifespan, it's actually quite amazing it was still working after he woke from the ice."

He flipped around the camera and looked directly at Bruce. "We'd be honored to have you, Dr. Banner. You as well, Mr. Stark," he added as an afterthought.

"We're on our way," Tony announced. He and Banner walked into the hallway, motioning impatiently while Fury remained still.

"Waiting on you," the genius snapped.

Fury reluctantly stepped forward. "When this is over, Stark…" he trailed off, leaving his threat unfinished.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Stark crossed his eyes at the Director before turning back to his teammates. "Barton, Romanov, Thor, you handle transport for Rogers back to Stark Tower. Make sure he sleeps. Keep him hydrated, fed—hell, show him how the Xbox works or something—but keep him distracted. Basically, don't let him out of your sight."

Natasha waved her hands at them, shooing them away. "We can handle this Stark."

"We want regular check-ins—"

"I will do something unspeakable if you don't leave this very instant," Romanov vowed, her expression deadly serious.

"Leaving," Stark squeaked, backpedalling so quickly he almost ran into Fury who was standing in the same square footage as the guard positioned outside his room.

"I want 24/7 monitoring on Captain Rogers until he leaves. He so much as coughs, we need to know about it, you read me?"

"Yes, sir," the soldier saluted in perfect formation.

Fury waited until the two scientists had left the corridor before leaning his head against a wall and exhaling deeply. Despite what Stark believed, telling Captain America he was no longer a superhero was practically the worst thing he had ever had to do. He wasn't just ruining the dreams of some agent he'd never met before—he knew the man behind the cowl, the man he had fought for since they had discovered him in the ice. Even though the soldier hadn't expressed any outward emotion, Fury had latched onto the aura of sadness, confusion and uncertainly radiating from Rogers.

The Director yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed Hill.

He didn't even wait for her to speak before snapping, "Whatever we have the techs doing, I need it done faster and quieter. We need a cure for Rogers—immediately."

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