Hi. I'm tired. My brain hurts. I think that there's something in my eye. Coronavirus sucks. Please enjoy.

Chapter 4: The Fellowship

Zelda's POV

The Princess of Hyrule sat at her desk, occasionally standing up to think or ponder what could be going on in her land. The Yiga were planning an uprising, and they were going to other places behind closed doors in order to rise victorious. It most certainly did not help that a lot of their acts were out of her reach, meaning that she had only one person to rely on: Link. Of course, he was dependable in every way, but she felt a tad guilty and restricted from it; it was like being trapped in a tube, and your only knowledge of what was happening around you came from a voice. To be fair, it was like their original roles had been swapped, though both of them were still trying to benefit each other.

She sighed in annoyance, placing her elbows on the table-which wasn't good etiquette-and massaged her temples, as if that would help her get an answer. Standing up, realizing that she wouldn't find out anything, Zelda walked across the small walkway that led from her study to her room, where she plopped herself down at her desk, and flipped through her diary. After searching more, she placed her index finger on the start of an entry, tracing the words with both her hand and her beautiful green eyes:

"Today, my efforts have proved fruitless. Indeed, I am aware that this has been the case in the majority of my life, but this time, it has nothing to do with my abilities. Recently-as I have already mentioned-monsters have crawled from the depths of the Dark World, only to torment my people once again.

"From what Link and I have been able to observe, we have deduced that this misoccurence could have something to do with the Yiga planning against this now-prosperous land. They are suffering; my people, that is. I can feel it deep inside, like my heavenly magic is drawn from my spirit and theirs' alike. It saddens me, that is for certain.

"As much as I would like to assist them, our search for a solution to our problems has shown little to no results. All that we know so far is that the Yiga have been searching just as determinedly for something as we are, but what they are searching for is a relic-not a compromise. They have attacked this new place-'earth,' it is called-and even ended a few lives. Sleep and answers still evade me, especially after that dream . . ."

Zelda shivered at the thought of the nightmare; it was a bad omen, that much she knew. Whatever had happened, she was informed of too little . . .

A knock at the door cut her thoughts off. She turned around quickly, her legs sending her out of the chair like it was on fire.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered, smoothing her dress before she opened the door.

"Ohio, Princess," Link greeted, holding a basket full of sweets, pastries, and bread. "I apologise for coming at such an early hour in the day; did I interrupt your thinking?"

She smiled kindly, stepping to the side in order to let him in. "No, not at all! You were just the person I wanted to talk to!"

He cocked his head to one side, confused by this. ". . . I am?"

The princess shut the door behind him, then sat down at her desk again, where Link placed the basket of food. "Indeed; the last few days have shown to be uneventful. I have received very few updates on our enemy's status. If it doesn't seem too much, I was going to ask if you had learned anymore . . . ?"

Link shuffled uncomfortably, not meeting her gaze. She noticed this, and raised a well-treated blonde eyebrow. "I was planning on telling you about that, but . . ." He looked outside through her balcony, his brilliant cerulean eyes reflecting the sunlight. "Would you care to have a picnic today? At your favorite spot, I mean."

Zelda's intelligent green eyes wandered to a stack of papers on her desk; she then turned back to him, clapping her hands excitedly. "Of course! It's been so long since I've been able to get out of the castle. I'll have to talk to the council about such; it'll only take me a few minutes, though. Would you meet me by the front gates?"

He returned her beaming smile with one of his own. "Yes, I'll meet you there with your horse."

"Thank you, Link!" she thanked him, flashing him another smile. "This means so much to me!"

"They're still here . . ." she murmured in astonishment, gently brushing her fingers against the delicate petals of the pretty flower. "The Silent Princess has thrived in our absence, hasn't it?"

They were sitting beneath a tall-and very old-oak near the entrance to Hebra, but still within the glimpse of Hyrule Castle. It had been there, a little over a hundred years ago, that they had sat; Zelda had tried to get Link to eat a frog, here. It seemed so long ago, and it really was; when they could talk face-to-face to the Champions of Old, to her father, to the residents of castle town. But there was a replacement for each of them; the Champions had successors, Zelda had taken the throne, and castle town had been restored to its former glory. It was all bittersweet, now.

Link nodded. "Yes, they are much easier to come by nowadays. They're still rare, though."

Zelda sat back up, looking at the Hero of Hyrule; he was definitely hiding something. "What did you want to tell me?"

(I love you, Zelda-jk, that didn't happen.) "I wanted to tell you about the Champions of Earth. I have come across them again, Princess."

Her jaw went slack. "Really? What happened? Did you speak to them?"

"More than that," he stated, "but, one of them arrived in Hyrule, recently."

Her eyes were the size of plates. "When?"

"Two nights ago; Sidon and I found him near dead on the path to Zora's Domain. We treated his wounds, and when he woke up the next morning, I took him home, but . . ." Link took a deep breath. "When I confronted his teammates, they asked me to join them."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the loyal knight looking for a reaction while the princess waited for an explanation. "And, then?"

He shrugged. "I left to seek your approval; I didn't want to agree to such without your opinion. Also . . . these humans aren't exactly 'warm' when it comes to me," he elaborated, looking at the ground. "They've never seen a hylian before."

Zelda bit her lip, her eyes hovering over the flower. "I . . ."

The flower almost spoke to her, the blue and white petals softly whispering: "It's alright, dear. Take your time. All will be well in the end. At this place, where the beautiful flower before me thrived from your touch, you decided to give Link a chance. And look, I still remain, after all this time; I am your friendship. I am Hyrule. So, why not equally share your joy among others? Give these humans a chance, too; they have earned such, just by protecting what they call 'home' just as you have."

"I think that you should accept," she answered, looking him in his brilliant cerulean eyes.

Link still seemed very interested in the grass. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes; although I do not agree with a few of these Champions' habits, I feel that allying them could help both of our kingdoms." She paused. ". . . Not only that, but I must say: I am a tad curious."

The knight smiled. "To be honest, I am too. I wish to learn more about earth; it is a very interesting and diverse land, though some things in Hyrule are frowned upon there."

"Like what?"

"Well . . ." he tapped his forehead, trying to think. "Not all humans view equality the same way. For example, some parts of earth still cradle slavery and racism; not something that you would find here."

"Ah . . ." Zelda brought her knees up to her chin, hugging her legs as she leaned against the aged trunk of the tree. "Now, how about we have our picnic? No more seriousness, for now; I need a break from that!"

He smiled. "Yes, Princess."

Banner's POV

"So, what was he like?" the scientist asked Steve for the hundredth time that day.

"He is nice," Steve confirmed uncomfortably.

"How so? Was he faking it? Is he human? How old is he?"

"He saved him, he seemed genuine, he is definitely not human, and he is in his midteens," Natasha answered. "And, Bruce? Please stop pestering Steve; he just got back last night."

He nodded, slumping back down on the couch. "And, you, Nat? What do you think about Raz-eh, Link?"

She considered this, then took a sip of her glass of water. "I think that he is skilled when it comes to healing others; Steve, your wounds were in great shape when you were returned to us."

"You say it like he's a missing dog, or something," Tony grumbled from the other side of the couch, his head propped up on a pillow while his legs were sprawled over the arm. He looked mad. "Besides, that's all you have to say about him? Personally, I think-no, know-that he is a cocky asshole."

"Somebody having a midlife crisis?" Clint mocked, sitting on the chase lounge.

"Shut the hell up."

"Stop it," Steve sighed. "Tony, don't be like that; Link isn't really arrogant."

"Yeah, sure, Capsicle."

All of them were quiet for a few seconds, but the soldier sitting next to him decided to speak up again. "Why were you at Long Island Sound last night?"

Bruce glanced at Nat, who caught his gaze. ". . . Well, we were searching for a lead on you, and we noticed that there was a spike in energy levels in the area that you had gone missing in, so we decided to have a look. Do you know what caused that?"

He shook his head. "No. Before Link got me back there, we were in a snowy area; it was so cold that I passed out. After that, all I remember is waking up when all of you were attacking him."

"WE WEREN'T-!"

Natasha waved her hand dismissively. "Save your breath, Stark; I'll admit, we shouldn't have done that."

The scientist drummed his fingers on his coffee cup, watching as the vibrations made ripples on the surface of the dark, bitter drink. "So, when is he going to come here? You did ask him to join, right?"

Clint shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, but he declined our offer; for now, at least. He said it 'Wasn't his place to decide,' or something like that. Razie-er, Link told us that he would contact us whenever he got word on if he could or not. What do you think about that, Cap?"

The man in question looked at the ground, deep in thought. "When I asked him how he would get me home, he said something about him being 'forbidden' to do so. From what I can guess, he has to ask permission from someone he works for . . . Now that I think about it, he did mention that there was a royal family where he was from."

"Oh, boy . . ." Tony mumbled. (My mom doesn't like the Queen of England because she visited America when she was pregos with me, and she couldn't go get KFC cuz she was going through the area. Sorry.) He pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, you think he's so obedient that he'll turn us down for his 'Master'?"

Steve scowled. "He's not a dog, Tony. He's just like a human."

"Yeah, we kinda are humans, but that never stopped Fury from treating us like shit on a leash," he pouted.

"What are we talking about?" Thor asked, walking into the living room; he noticed his mad expression. "Is there something troubling you, Sir Stark?"

"No, I'm fine. Just peachy."

The god sat down next to Bruce on the couch, making it shift a bit. "So, how are you, Sir Banner?"

"Hmm . . . So-so," he answered, looking at Tony. "Do you think he'll refuse to join?"

"It would be a good idea to."

"Tony, really; stop it, please," Steve chided. "But, no; I think that Link will join the Avengers. He seems like the kind of person to value a team. Although . . ."

". . . 'Although'? What?"

"He also acted a bit . . . well, reserved when I was with him. He had this look in his eyes . . . I don't really know how to describe it though . . ."

"Aged? Sad? Distant?" Nat suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Kind of . . . thank you, ma'am," Steve responded. "Link looked like he was a bit . . . regretful, if anything. Maybe even a bit nostalgic."

"He's a teenager. What do you expect?" Tony mocked, smirking.

"Maybe . . . He just seemed way too mature for a teenager, though. He told me he is seventeen."

"How long are years where he's from?"

He shrugged. "I don't know; I never asked him about that."

"Why? Why didn't you interrogate him while you could?!"

"Are you insane? No! I did ask him a few questions about the assassins because he agreed to! Why would I want to do that?" he argued.

"We're supposed to."

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as they continued to argue. Although they had set aside their differences before the battle with the Chitauri, they still could tear into each other, but without the looming threat of such literally happening. His brown eyes wandered to the tablet in his lap.

"Energy spike developing near the first confrontation," he exclaimed, cutting off the argument.

Tony stopped shouting and stared at him. "When will it fully develop?"

"Three hours, at the least."

"7:00 pm?" Cap suggested. "I can work with that."

"Good," Banner observed. "Now, who's going to go tell Fury?"

Link's POV

The young hylian bowed his head, listening to the sounds of the creak of abandoned equipment and a few pigeons that scavenged for scaps. Epona crouched down at his side. His palms hovered over the rough cement below him, preparing to attack when something didn't seem right. Pointed ears twitched and cerulean eyes flickered beneath blonde lashes as he waited for something, anything, to change.

"Where will they appear today, Your Grace Farore?"

"Go to the second place in which you explored; the first time you encountered your soon-to-be teammates. Then, turn south, and keep on going until you get to a place without human breath. There you will find them. Tread carefully, Hero . . . Thin ice will show itself when they wish for it to . . ."

Link's eyes snapped open all the way when a remarkably chubby bird landed beside him, bobbing its head to see if he had any food. In response to this, he flicked his hand in a warning to back off, the pigeon cocking its head to one side in confusion at the gesture. Although hesitant, he nudged its chest with the back of his hand, startling it so much that it flew away quickly; it made a frightened-albeit quiet-gurgling sound as it fluttered away in the dark.

Something scraped the ground below him, making him peek over the edge of the abandoned apartment complex. "Place without human breath" . . . This old building had burned in a fire long ago, making most of the old walls peeled and charred, the only remnants of the former residents being the old and melted frame of a metal bead, the groaning floors, and spindly metal support beams that leaned a bit from the weight of the roof. The building was definitely over a few decades old-meaning that it had a different design-so it hadn't been repaired nor inhabited by anyone other than a few homeless people and animals over the years. Despite this, most of the walls, floors, and stairs were still intact.

Link watched as a red van with "News" written in white on the side pulled up to the side, a few people crawling out. The mare beside him rumbled nervously.

Huh . . . What would a News station van be doing here?

A woman with blonde hair and dark brown eyes-presumably the reporter-stepped out of the passenger side. Like many of the people he had seen sometimes at night on earth, she was wearing clean and smart clothes: white shirt, ash colored jacket that was buttoned up at the rib-area, charcoal grey pencil skirt that went down to her knees, well-cared-for hair that was wavy and reached her waist, and high heels. She was obviously wearing make-up, though her face didn't look caked on. Her nails were relatively long and red.

"Alex!" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips as she looked around her, her sleek hair swinging around her. "Where is he?"

A man that looked around the same age as her-mid-twenties-poked his head out from behind the van, holding a large camera. Like her, he was dressed in a sharp black jacket and slacks, a wine-colored shirt underneath, and dress shoes adorning his feet. His face was free of any stubble, and his hair-also blonde-was long enough to be tied back in a small, barely noticeable ponytail, if it could even be called that.

"Yes, Riley?" he squeaked.

He looks a bit like Abelard . . .

Riley huffed, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground (Story of Evil! Yee!). "They're going to be here in ten minutes!" she shouted, gesturing towards the glimmering gold watch on her wrist. "Are we ready?! You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to your body; Gods!" (Servant of Evil *sobs*).

"Sorry, sis . . ." he sheepishly apologised, some of the other people grabbing equipment out of the back of the van. "If I'm correct, you need me to chaperone the preparations, look out for any interruptions, and call in anything?"

The woman grumbled something under her breath, then looked back up at him after face palming. "Yes, Alex," Riley said through her teeth. "Forgetting something?"

". . . Tell Ava?"

She stamped her foot in frustration. "Keep. Them. Stalled! We are under cover for a reason! If they find out what we're looking for . . ." Her brow furrowed. "Get to work!" she snapped.

Alex shouted orders at the other people-who Link was now sure were Yiga in disguise-and then scrambled after her, stuttering a report.

Hylia, Link thought, was I like that a hundred years ago?

More soldiers poured into the building across from him, some digging through the wreckage (it was a well aged office building that had also suffered from burns), others setting up guards on the outer edges of the property. Riley had entered the remains of the building long ago, Alex occasionally walking around to see if the other Yiga were doing their jobs well. Other than this, they did nothing.

It was when another van pulled up-this one pitch black-that he stood up quickly, squinting down at the passengers. As he expected, the Avengers were there: Natasha, Tony, Thor, Clint, and most of all, Steve. The Yiga immediately took notice, slipping into the shadows of the building as they drew their weapons. Scythes and carvers glinted dully in the moonlight. Red and white masks bore into the eyes of their enemies.

Here we go again.

The humans climbed out of the vehicle, ignorant of the assassins waiting at the entrance. When they came close enough to be in range, he nocked an arrow, making Epona back up hastily. In little time, four assassins fell dead on the ground, arrows jutting from their chests and throats. The Avengers jumped at the intrusion, surprise glowing around them as they prepared themselves for a fight. After a few seconds of nothing else, they cautiously continued, slipping through the door.

Link clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, calling Epona to follow him. She obliged, trotting up to him as he grabbed her reins, leading her quietly down from the building and to the side of the other one; he had scouted for an entrance big enough for her long ago.

One of the scouts he had failed to shoot rounded the corner, passing them up when he hid in the dark. Continuing to slink in the darkness with his horse, he passed by another guard, then slipped through the small gap in one of the walls. He hid behind another wall, watching the Avengers as they walked through the empty corridors, looking around for any other enemies. Seeing none, he followed them in silence, making sure that they didn't see him.

Although the average person would think that trailing behind possible comrades wouldn't be common sense, Link was curious. What were the Yiga looking for? What did it have to do with the Avengers? How would the humans react? He wanted to know. But, for now, he would watch them until he knew that they really needed him. No surprises.

His cerulean blue eyes hovered over the rest of the corridor before he carefully snuck through the shadows. At one point-when he needed to turn around-he nearly ran into Thor, but was able to stop and stay out of earshot. The group came to a split in the corridor, inspecting the two paths before taking a left. Link, however, took the right. It almost radiated negative energy; yes, this was an amazing idea!

Steve's POV

This was not the best idea. After he had been voted to tell Fury where they needed to go-Banner trailing behind him-the director had waved them off to prepare. They had a simple plan: bust in, fight whoever seemed to be a challenge, and then take the ones that were still alive to Stark Tower for interrogation. Simple? Yes. Delusional? Most definitely.

The moment he saw some of the assassins-Yiga, they were called-drop dead in front of them, he knew with certainty that Link was there. Clint hadn't fired, and they didn't even carry around wooden arrows.

However, the small Alf had yet to show himself. He found his eyes darting around the many long hallways, looking for any sign of his presence. Despite this, Link was still nowhere to be found. At one point, Tony caught his gaze-his mask temporarily removed-with a look that screamed, "I told you so".

It was only when an assassin charged him, only to be mauled by a large smudge of brown, that Link appeared before them shortly after.

"E-Epona?"

The mare tossed her mane and neighed in greeting.

"There's . . . a horse," Clint observed incredulously. "What should we do with it?"

Before Steve could explain it to him, Link appeared out of one of the other corridors, fighting another Yiga. The teen dodged one of his enemy's violent slashes, returning it with one of his own. When their blades locked, he kicked the assassin's knee in (owch) and stabbed, being rewarded with an explosion of red light and tassels. He sheathed his sword, then looked in their direction. Blood seeped through his blonde hair, discoloring it orange.

"Link, what happened?" Steve asked.

The boy ignored him and glared menacingly in his direction, knocking an arrow on a bow that had appeared out of nowhere. Though he was about to talk him out of shooting him, Link released the bow string. Steve grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him out of the way-much to his displeasure-and watched as the arrow zipped past the rest of the team. Another assassin fell down in a burst of red streamers and smoke.

He turned back towards him. Link had lowered his bow, and was staring at him expectantly.

"You . . . wha . . . I . . ." Steve sputtered.

"I got pommeled," Link stated bluntly, as if he hadn't just nearly killed him.

Although shaken, he regained his composure. "So . . . they're here, then?"

He nodded. "Yes, and there are many. In fact-," he glanced warily at the path he had just come from, "-if I am correct, they are meeting for an exchange. However, whoever they are trading with hasn't arrived yet."

"How long 'til they get here?"

"Five minutes, from what I've overheard. When that happens, I can only assume that they will surround the building, scatter around the perimeter, and send the most important agents in. It won't even take an hour before they finish and leave."

He turned around towards the rest of the group. "Any volunteers?"

Everyone simultaneously pointed at Tony, who sighed and mumbled something awful under his breath. "Fine," he pouted, vanishing as a streak of red and blue.

"Anything else to note?"

"They seem to have higher ranked soldiers on hand-commanders, to narrow it down. They're stronger, smarter, and the rest will give their lives to protect them. Taking them on will not be an easy task."

"'Nothing we can't handle," Clint responded, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Lead the way, kid."

Link nodded, turning on his heel to go. Epona immediately followed in suit, trotting at his side like a love struck puppy (that is a BIG puppy). Steve began following him, though his eyes were starting to ache a bit from the strain of trying to see ahead. Before he could voice this, however, Nat beat him to the punch.

"Does anyone have a flashlight? Even I can barely see anything . . ."

The others murmured in agreement, while Link calmly pulled a small slab of stone from his belt-it was about the size of a phone. The soldier opened his mouth to ask the reason for such a thing when he pressed his index finger to one of the edges, the back of the small object glowing blue and orange in the dark. A cheerful chime emitted from his direction. When he held it out in front of him, blue light bathed the walls-just enough for someone to see.

"What is that?" Steve asked, pointing at it.

He turned back. "Sheikah Slate."

The boy didn't elaborate further as he trudged onward, holding the device outwards to produce more light. Although he felt nervous, the fact that his horse hadn't bolted in the opposite direction reassured him that they were far from danger. Then again, she had no problem with flattening enemies.

"So, tell us about these Yiga characters," Thor asked out of the blue, swinging his hammer aimlessly.

"They're professional assassins-"

"Who were they trained by?" Nat cut Link off.

"They're mostly self taught; when they begin to develop comprehensible skills, they begin their training. After they have learned enough, they either sit around their hideout to await orders or go on the road, searching for any person unfortunate enough to cross paths with them."

"Where is their base?"

"They used to have one in a certain location, but . . ." His back straitened. "After their master was defeated, they evacuated. They mostly travel now."

"Hmm . . . where did they originate?"

"They come from a different tribe-known as the Sheikah-who were exiled from their practices thousands of years ago. After that, they became so resentful towards the royal family that they joined a demon's forces, engaging in dark magic."

"Magic?"

"Yes."

"Can you do magic?"

Link considered this. "I . . . I guess you could say that, yes."

"Do you fight with it?"

"I've only ever used it once in combat. It's too dangerous."

"What do the Yiga want, exactly?" Clint asked, curiosity leaking into his voice.

"The demon they serve can be reincarnated; in order for this to happen, however, they require special blood. As for the relic they're looking for," he shrugged, "I'm at a loss."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Let me guess; you have this special blood?"

He nodded. "Yes; though, it can only be used if I were dead. If they took it from me while I was living, it would be useless to them."

He stopped abruptly, looking down two paths. After a few seconds of inspecting both, he turned left and kept on walking.

"That, and it's not only my blood that they need. Their master already has some of it; the rest of it is from a different person. Someone in the royal family."

Steve definitely knew that there was something wrong with him, now; the boy didn't talk with such choppy sentences. He might be close to going into shock.

"Why does this demonic essences need your blood?" Thor questioned. "What does it have to do with choosing sides?"

"Well, the demon they follow feeds off of anger and hatred-basically negativity in general. A selective few people are born or obtain a powerful source of magic and energy, which this demon already has a fraction of in its grasp. If Cala-it were to gain this sort of power, it could easily destroy all of existence as we know it."

"So," Clint exclaimed, "what you're saying is that you and this other person are being chased down by a demon-who also has this power-for your blood?"

He nodded. "To put it bluntly, yes."

The boy pushed a door open at the end of the long hallway and stepped quietly up the stairs at the end. Epona, who was too large to enter or even walk up the staircase, trotted away down a different path, disappearing into the darkness.

"Link, how come you didn't tell me this before?" Steve asked, following behind him swiftly.

He spared a glance at him. "Time was short. I had to get you home as soon as possible. Besides, there is still so much that I am permitted to tell you."

Nat seemed amused by this as she hummed. "'Permitted'? Question-"

"Answer."

She smirked at his interruption. "-Who is the person who restricts your ability to provide information?"

He stopped for a moment to look at her, his head tilted to one side a bit in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday, you mentioned that you couldn't immediately accept our offer," Thor elaborated. "Could it be possible that your own decisions are limited to those of a royal family?"

Steve felt his heart trying to do jumping-jacks in his chest; he knew that pestering Link for information was not a great idea, if any of them valued what was good for them. He'd seen how quickly Link could fight. He knew that he was probably uncomfortable with it.

However, despite this, the alf in question kept a neutral expression. "There is only one remaining member of the royal family of my land. The rest died. Not only that, but my land was created by powerful deities, who created the energy that the demon desires, and they still communicate with some today; their power still remains in my land. Even the royal family bows down to someone. Besides, I have my own privacy."

With that, he turned back around and kept on walking, leaving the team in awkward silence.

When they did get to the top of the stairs, a door similar to the one Link had opened before sat in front of them. As he proceeded to try and grab it, the handle stood stubbornly in place.

"I can open it, kid," Clint said, pushing to the front of the group.

"I got it."

His grip on the knob tightened and the metal bent as he crushed it like a tin can in his fist, pulling it off as he pulled the door open. He stood to the side, gesturing forward with his hand.

"After you."

Steve stared at him in shock for a few seconds before walking ahead, the others trailing behind nervously.

"How did you do that?" Thor asked.

"I'm stronger than I look," he explained bluntly.

The moment he stepped through the doorway, something barreled right into him. At first, Steve expected it to somehow be Epona, though the figure that had tackled him was too small to be a horse. As he squinted in the darkness, he noticed that it was a person. As quickly as the man that was now on top of Link had come, he was kicked hard in the chest. Link returned his attack with one of his own, lunging and wrestling him to the ground.

"L-let go!" the attacker shouted, flailing his arms in a pathetic attempt to escape.

The boy did not release him as he requested, instead tightening his grip around his leg. The man thrashed, wrapping his arms around his and digging his nails into his sleeve. He wasn't quite choking him, but it didn't look like a comfortable position.

"Holy hell," Clint cursed incredulously. "Kid, you got that?"

The man kicked his legs out, squeaking and cursing in various foreign languages. Link responded in his own language, making his point by tightening his grip again.

Steve glanced at Nat, who looked just as confused as him. She nodded.

"Link," he began, turning towards the alf, "release him."

Before he could, the small rumble of someone snickering sounded at the end of the new corridor, growing into full on laughing, though there was no humor to accompany it.

"Ah, I would recommend that you listen to your human pets, hero," the owner of the laughing mocked, emerging from the dark. It was a woman with platinum blonde hair that glittered in the shadows, her dark clothes making it look like she was just a head, hands, and legs suspended in midair.

She smiled, her lipstick-glazed lips curling up in a sneer. "You heard them. Release my brother."

His eyes narrowed as he babbled the gibberish that was his tongue with a slightly bitter edge. In response, the fair woman flicked one of her luxurious locks over her shoulder.

"Don't get an attitude with me," she scoffed. "We Yiga happen to have a reliable ally in our cause; talking back to someone with such high status in our ranks would earn you death."

Her head turned a bit, as if she was just now choosing to get a proper look at Steve and the rest of the Avengers.

"Hmm . . . However, I can make an acceptance for once." She grinned again. "This building is surrounded by Hydra agents, and it is crawling with a fraction of the Yiga's remaining army. If you wish to get out of here alive, you need to either defeat us or hand over our bread. Will you?"

All of them shifted uncomfortably, trying not to seem intimidated.

". . . When you say, 'bread' . . ."

"Oh, the God of Thunder, Thor himself!" she beamed. "How rude of me; my name is Riley; I am the current leader of the Yiga Clan." Her smile melted into a frown. "Aah, but you wouldn't achieve much of our goal, now would you? We want," she pointed at Link, "him."

"Absolutely not," both Steve and the alf in question blurted, glancing at each other for a second.

A sigh ran through the room as she exhaled disappointedly, putting her hands on her hips. "Such a shame. I thought you were more reasonable than that." Her shoulders bounced up and then down again in a shrug. "Eh, whatever; I should've expected it, anyway."

Riley spun on her heel away-somehow without falling-and commanded nonchalantly, "Yiga, attack."

It was like an explosion of red and white as the warriors poured out of that side of the hallway, shoving each other aside to get to the group. In his moment of shock, Steve just managed to pull his shield in front of him to parry a blow from one of the fiends.

Link, on the other hand, was less stunned than the rest of them. He dropped the man in his arms like he was a doll, then proceeded to turn his attention to the other enemies approaching him. He kicked and punched, eventually drawing his sword to deal with them. His calmness was a bit alarming.

Returning to his own fight, Steve threw his shield at his own opponents and groped for his pistol, finding it quickly. Without further hesitation, he began hitting and shooting through his enemies (that just gave me an image), trying to get to the boy. As he watched through his own battles, however, he noticed that the blue-clad alf would need little to no assistance. He used both his sword and body to beat the shit out of the Yiga, fighting a lot more violently than when he had tried to escape the Avengers the first time. Now, he was going for the kill.

At one point, his sword clattered to the floor unceremoniously while they swarmed him relentlessly. Instead of fighting desperately to retrieve it, he grabbed the nearest man to him and literally threw him into the others, knocking them down like living bowling pins (*flashback to the Wii Sports vine*).

"Need help, kid?" Steve shouted over the commotion.

"No, thank you!" Link replied, punching a man hard in the face.

"Stop worrying about him," Natasha chastised from next to him, humor flashing in her green eyes. "He'll be fine."

Despite her words, the man was nervous. He knew that he wasn't in a state of danger; actually, it was the Yiga who were, in all honesty. However, that didn't mean that he wasn't on edge. The boy was injured; not seriously, but he could suffer from a concussion at any moment. That was enough to put him on edge.

Before he could say otherwise, he felt something slam into his side. Flat on his back on the ground, Steve looked up to see the assailant straddling his chest, a knife raised. Shit; it was that kid Link had fought earlier.

He instinctively covered his face - leaving his chest partially exposed - and twisted his body to one side, bucking his hips to try and get him off (that actually is how you get a person off of you when you are pinned down). Unfortunately, the man on top of him grabbed his throat with his free hand and squeezed, somehow keeping enough balance to not be thrown off of him. Feeling his airway be breached, he tried to see through his red-tinted eyes for a place to strike.

With a loud shout and a yelp, the burden choking him was plowed down by another person. Link, who must've seen the whole occurence take place, tackled the man and showed his anger by trying his best to destroy him. Punch after punch, kick after kick, and their enemy was reduced to a lingering puff of smoke.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern written on his face. The blood on his face had begun to trickle down to his jawline.

Steve brought his hand to his neck, finding it to be a little sore. "Y-yes, thank you."

He nodded and then ran off, shouting in his language at some of the Yiga that were beginning to surround Thor.

Teenagers, he thought; they can't stay out of danger.

Tony's POV

It had been at least an hour since he had gotten the shit beaten out of him. Although the playboy would never admit it, those Hydra agents had gotten a lot stronger and had polished their aim skills. However, it wasn't like they won that battle.

He was just walking back to the van - only to get a First Aid box so that he could run back into the building - when he heard the loud noise of stone crumbling and crashing down behind him. Tony felt the ground shudder and quake beneath his feet, and in a few seconds, he saw the shapes of Natasha, Steve, and Thor rushing out of the failing building. The top floor had already caved in on the one below it.

"The hell happened?!" he shouted, jogging over to them.

Nat glanced at a small cut on her shoulder. "Explosive arrows happened."

"Clint?"

"I have no idea. I didn't see who shot them."

"No," he retaliated, "where is Clint? And, the kid?"

Steve looked like he was trying to swallow sawdust. "Still inside; one of the walls on the top floor fell through the ceiling. We were separated."

"Not for long," Thor corrected.

He turned around. "What do you mean?"

The god pointed in the direction of the chaos, frowning. At first, Stark was considering the fact that Point Break was hallucinating, but after squinting he saw what he did. Some of the stones that had fallen around the bottom floor shifted unnaturally, some of the smaller ones skidding across the old parking lot. After watching in apprehensive confusion for about a minute, it seemed as though part of the night busted out, jumping high as it galloped quickly towards them. It was the kid's horse.

Before the large mare could flatten them, the rider tugged on the reins, immediately getting off and picking up the person that had been draped over their lap only a few seconds ago. It was Link, with an unconscious Barton.

"Kid, are you okay?" Steve asked immediately, stepping forward. He merely nodded and sat the agent in his arms down onto the ground. That's when Tony saw it - a large gash on Clint's left leg.

"Holy shit!" he blurted, kneeling down with the first aid kit in his hand.

Link pulled something out of his pocket - a small bottle with red liquid sloshing around inside - and put it out in front of Natasha, offering it to her.

"What is this for?" she asked.

"It could become infected," he explained calmly. "You will want to give him this before it does."

She nodded, uncorking it with her teeth. Leaning over him, she managed to wedge his mouth open and pour a small amount through his lips. He didn't even react, he was so out.

After doing that, she handed him what was left of the substance in the bottle. While she had been doing that, he had opened the red medical bag and pulled out a few cleaning wipes, first cleaning his bloodied hands, then pulling surgical gloves over his leather ones.

The kid took the bottle and sat it next to him, then proceeded to clean the deep cut. When he was done, he poured a small amount of the liquid into it, then corked it and left it next to him, grabbing quaze and stitches.

"Woah," Steve said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "With all due respect, are you sure about that?"

He nodded. "We can't leave the wound open. He could bleed to death, or it could get worse. We have no choice but to stitch it up."

With that, he grabbed a few cotton balls and antiseptic, wetting them with the substance, and using two on the wound, one for the needle and thread. Once he was finished, he took the needle and began stitching the wound, keeping each stitch less than half an inch apart from the other. (I actually had to use a few sources to find out how you stitch up a wound and what your average first aid kit has. If you want to improve your writing, you can research things online. I recommend Yahoo Answers.)

It was around five minutes before he was finished. Link put down the materials and took the gauze out without a second glance. After stretching it out, he began wrapping his leg over his pants leg; even Tony knew that was a bad idea, but judging by the fact that the two didn't know each other, the kid would probably not want to see Clint's thigh. Cutting it with the medical scissors, he placed the rest of the roll of bandages into the kit and pulled out the small roll of duct tape, ripped off a strip, and used it to secure the wrap.

Link pulled off the gloves and placed them into one of the Ziploc bags inside, treating the dirty equipment into a separate one. His bare hands were bruised and bloody from punching so many people, though he still dressed them with hand sanitizer with a straight face.

He looked up at their shocked faces with his unfazed and bloody one.

"What is it?"

That took a long time to write. I apologise, but a lot of crap has gone down lately, and I've been super stressed out lately. Fortunately, the coronavirus has let school out for a month, so at least I'll have time to write. Wash your hands and stay safe, my little Dorkchops!