Welcome to the final installment of Global Warming, and, if you've made it this far, thanks for sticking around. I hope you've all enjoyed this as much as I have, and keep an eye out for my next Avengers work. Please, please let me know what you think!
Rose xx

Chapter Text

They were briefed in the car, flying through traffic towards Lower Manhattan.
Bruce, who'd stayed behind in a command centre at SHIELD, appeared on the screen to Steve's right, reading off the report in front of him.
"We have doombots through Lower Manhattan. Right now they're contained between Broadway and 6th, but we need to keep them there and then sort it out."

Steve nodded. "Stark, you take perimeter, keep them inside those lines. I don't want them past Canal on the Manhattan side or Chambers on the Tribeca side. Barton, Romanov, take point with me. Thor, I want you to find Doom. He'll be watching from somewhere. You locate him, subdue him and bring him back to SHIELD. I don't want him getting away just so he can do the same thing next week. Everyone got it?" For once, his tone left no room for argument. he'd usually take suggestions at that point, but he realised that if he wanted to maintain his new position as objective leader, he needed to stop treating his team like equals. They were his subordinates and he needed to start treating them as such. The car pulled to a stop, and, in silence, the team streamed out. Steve sighed, shouldering his shield. And just because he was treating them as subordinated didn't mean he like doing it.

The battle was going well, or, Clint reflected as he slammed his bow into the doombot that had attested to creep up behind him, as well as could be expected given their captain would do nothing but bark orders at them.

They'd maintained the perimeter, there'd been no civilian casualties and to the best of his knowledge (though most were good at hiding it), no team injuries either. He and Steve were atop a small building on Grand, attempting to take out the last small convoy. There were three left, Steve taking care of two and Clint was close to disabling the third.
He notched an arrow, let it fly. It hit with a satisfying thunk and Clint was congratulating himself on a job well done when the last bot ducked out of Steve's grip, launched itself off the building, taking Cint with it. For a second, he was freefalling before there was a pressure around his middle and he was rising. Stark had arrived.

He looked up, grinning and giddy as adrenalin subsided. It was then he saw Steve. He was on his stomach, upper half of his body hanging off the roof, arms outstretched, eyes wide with horror. He was looking straight at the spot Clint had fallen, but his eyes weren't tracking the archer's ascent, didn't register that the duo had landed behind him. Clint muttered a thank-you as Tony removed his mask but was quickly at their captain's side.
"Steve, you all good? Were you hit?" It was the only explanation Clint could come up with; Steve was injured, and he'd dived on the injury to save him. When he'd seen Tony rising, the adrenalin had crashed, leaving him on his stomach, half hanging over an abyss. That must be it.
The only noise he was greeted with was the whistling of the wind, the sound of traffic rising from below. Tony had crouched by his side.
"Steve, buddy, you with us?" He was gentle, much as he had been just over a week ago speaking to the injured soldier.
Steve's eyes squeezed closed, his torso went limp and Clint was quick to leap forward and pull him back, lest their captain be lost over the edge as Clint nearly had been. He sat, propped Steve up against his chest and let Tony begin checking him for injuries.
"Nothing." Tony removed his hands. "Come on Steve, bud, talk to us, you're scaring Katniss and your chivalrous self should know we don't scare women."
Finally, Steve spoke. A broken, cracked whisper barely heard over the wind. "He's gone."
Tony and Clint exchanged a look, the confusion on the inventor's face confirming to Clint that the older man was as confused as he was.
Clint spoke gently, as if to his children. "Who's gone, Steve?"
"Clint's gone. I let him fall and I let Bucky fall and I lost everyone and they I found new people and then I knew I was going to lose them too and I tried so hard not to but I wasn't fast enough again and I let Clint fall and he's gone, he's gone and I tried to stop it but I wasn't fast enough, couldn't do it, I couldn't do it." Tears leaked from closed lids, and the solider slumped further in Clint's grip.
That time, when he made eye contact with Tony, he could see him connecting the pieces, just as Clint himself was. And he kicked himself for not noticing any sooner.

"Steve?" Open your eyes bud. I'm right here, I didn't fall. I'm safe and you're safe. Everyone is okay." Steve shook his head sadly, refusing to pry open his lids, which had begun to stick together with a thin layer of tears.
"Gone, everyone's gone, and I should be gone too."
Lost, Clint looked to Tony.
"Might be going into shock", he mouthed.
Clint sighed. "Steve, can you feel what you're lying on? It's me, it's Clint. And that noise beneath your ear? That's my heartbeat. You kept that heartbeat going in Dubai, and before that in Uzbekistan and before that when you watched my back in New York. I'm here and I'm alive and you can feel my heartbeat beneath my shirt because I didn't fall, I'm alive."

Slowly, Steve's eyes opened, baby blue and young.
"Clint?"
"Yeah bud, right here."
Shaking, but coming back to himself, Steve leapt forward, rocketing out of Clint's hold.
"Sorry, wasn't thinking clearly. Sorry, sorry. Ah, good job. We'll take the rest of the day off. Let the others know." He was shaking where he stood, almost swaying. Tony stepped in before Clint had a chance.
"Sit down Steve." The solider had no choice but to obey, a hand on his shoulder and not having regained his strength meant his soldier's legs folded neatly, and he came to a seat back on the cold cement rooftop. "Stay right there, I'm calling the rest of the team.

It took nearly half an hour for everyone to arrive, including Bruce from the control centre. They circled on the floor, legs crossed, expression's questioning.
"So," Tony started, "I've figured out what's up with Capsicle."
Heads shot up, most eager, Steve's confused and bordering on anger he seemed to not quite be able to manage.
"Bird Brain took a dive off the side off the building. Yours Truly managed to catch him, but Steve here watched another friend plunge off a building. And then we had a little chat." He paused, "Well, we chatted he rambled through shock, good times, really."
Clarity came to each team member's face in the next few seconds.

"Steve," To everyone's surprise, it was Bruce who spoke. "I know that what happened to you was terrible. It would have broken most men. But you need to trust me when I say, it isn't going to happen again."
Steve looked him in the eye. "I can't know that. I can't let myself get close to anyone because it could all go to hell any second. And you can say that you would look for me, but eventually you'd have to stop. They had to stop last time, when life got in the way, and even if you have good intentions, and say you'll look, one day you'll stop too."
Silence. No one dared speak. They knew that on some level, he was right; his first team had stopped looking. But that was because it was ridiculous wasting your life looking for a dead man. Now they knew.
Tony stood, walking to sit beside Steve, planting himself between the super-soldier and Natasha in a way only he could. "We know now Steve. We know you aren't like anyone that every lived. So, we will keep looking, but more importantly, we aren't going to let you go down in the first place. This won't be like the last time. Clint didn't fall. And we aren't going to let you fall, either."
Shuddering breaths escaped the super soldier and Tony gently pulled his neck until the blonde's head rested on his shoulder.
"I'm just so tired."
"I know."
"I don't want to be alone."
"You won't be."
"But I can't lose everything again."
The sun was setting by that time, and Clint watched as Tony moved his hand through Steve's hair, the movement far more gentle and intimate than what would usually come from the billionaire. It was Natasha that spoke last, reaching around Tony to rest a small palm on Steve's shoulder.
"We won't let you."

Steve woke long after the sun, sitting up, stretching, pleased to note his back was pain free. His hand were fully healed, the last scar tissue having faded to white, the only reminder of his ordeal all those months ago.

He walked towards the kitchen, the only sound in the early morning the soft scuffing of socked feet on the floorboards. The coffee maker whirred to life as he approached the bench.
"Good Morning, Captain." The soft voice came from overhead, the first and last Steve heard each day.
"Morning Jarvis."
"Sir has asked that I inform you to wear your dress uniform. It is, after all, an important occasion."
"Thanks Jarvis." He took the coffee from where it had finished being brewed, sipped quietly. He found less of a need for his morning run, preferring instead to wait until dusk when Clint went so he had someone to go with. The routine could be broken, and the flexibility, for the first time in his life, brought comfort rather than chaos to his mind. He showered and dressed quickly, moving down to the communal floor to find the rest of the team ready to go.
He looked to Tony, a smile he knew wouldn't fall off his face plastered. "Ready to go?"
"Car's already waiting."

The drive didn't take long, but Steve wouldn't have minded if it had. There was casual conversation, more comfortable than even right after New York. They pulled up outside the apartment block, which looked much fresher than the last time Steve had lived there.

After that day with Doom, Steve, with convincing, had moved back into the tower. It had taken time, but eventually, he opened up to the team. Truly. Not like after New York when he was trying to make friends and find out as much about the new world as he could, but properly, with darkness and light both taking equal prominence in conversations. He looked at the newly refurbished building. After he'd moved out, it had been condemned, he'd been the last rent-paying occupant and it was set to be turned into a take-out shop. With Tony's help (and money), they had stopped that. The building had been remodelled, each room decorated with Pepper's help to feel like a home. And then, they had been given to homeless war wets, those on the streets with nowhere else to go. The vets were being paid to work for Tony Stark, with salary's much larger than their janitorial and kitchen staff jobs would usually pull in. And, when they regained their feet, the apartments would be given to the next person. They already had plans to erect similar building all over the city.

Steve looked at the building, the new residents waiting by the ribbon for it to be cut. He went and stood in front of them, returned the salute they were giving him. He cut the tape, camera's flashing.

When he went home that night, happier than he'd been since Bucky, he realised, he'd changed. There was no before and after. There was simply then and now. And he was, for the time being, more than happy with the now.

So? That's it. Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Prompts? Drop them all below! Thanks for the support,
Rose