Sorry about the reposting of the first chapter, was screwing with me. Here's the real chapter!

More crack wheeee! Thanks for all of the reviews and favorites and alerts for the last chapter! They really mean a lot to me and encourage me to keep writing. I originally intended for Never Again to be a one shot, but then I figure 'ah what the hell, I have time let's write some more random crap about the things Steve gets up to in this strange new world' so I've decided to expand this into a series of one shots. This one features Tony, Bruce, Steve (of course), and Clint and Steve's first encounter with the life-ruiner that we call Netflix and is really short.

I had a particular TV show in mind when I wrote this, bonus points for whoever can guess it (I realize my description of it is very vague, but whatever just take a wild stab at it)! :D

Please enjoy!

"He's converted Steve," Tony whispered from where he was hiding behind the couch. "What do I do?"

Bruce glanced over at where Clint and Steve were curled up on the carpet, watching the television intently. "Tony-"

"SHHHHHHH."

"Tony," Bruce started again, quieter this time, "this is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?" Tony looked scandalized. "I don't think you understand the severity of this situation Bruce." He pulled Bruce down behind the couch and grasped his shoulders. "He's. Converted. Steve."

"Tony-"

"Who's next? Thor?" Tony's eyes widened. "Natasha?" he whispered loudly, horrified.

Bruce squeezed the bridge of his nose. "You know, I think we should just let them enjoy this."

Tony made an exasperated noise. "Look at them! They're pathetic," he exclaimed, struggling to keep his voice down and pointing.

Clint had a bowl on ice cream balanced on his pillow and was sniffling softly and Steve had buried his head into his blanket, sobbing unashamedly whilst Clint patted his head.

"This cannot go on in my house," Tony whispered furiously.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Tony waved his arms around wildly. "I don't know! You're responsible and mature and shit, they'll listen to you!"

Clearly, deciding to live with the team had been the worst mistake Bruce had ever made. When he took up the offer, he had not been made aware of his new requirements as official team dad.

He should start making dad jokes, just to spite them.

"Fine, Tony, fine." Bruce stood up and walked in front of the T.V., pausing the episode currently playing.

"Hey! I was watching that," Clint said through a mouthful of ice cream. "That's my favorite part!"

Bruce set the remote down. "Clint Barton," he said in the firmest voice he could muster. "How many hours of Netflix have you watched so far today?"

Clint looked slightly ashamed of himself. "Six."

"And did you think coercing Steve into watching with you was a good idea?"

"I did at the time," Clint mumbled.

"And was it?"

Clint took one look at Steve, who was currently trying to rein in his tears, and replied "no" in a tiny voice before shrinking back as if trying to melt into the carpet.

"And Steve."

Steve looked up and hiccuped, his hair mussed and his eyes bloodshot.

"You are a grown man."

"But," Steve pointed weakly at the television screen. "Everyone he loves keeps dying and-"

"Steve, you are a grown man," Bruce repeated.

"But it's sad," Steve mumbled.

Bruce glared at them both. "Steve, no more Netflix for you for today."

A flash of hope lit up Clint's face.

"No more Netflix for you either, Clint."

Clint pouted.

"And clean this mess up." Bruce gestured at the mess of pillows, blankets, and tissues on the floor. "Now."

Grumbling mostly incoherent words to themselves ("Stupid Bruce" "Grown men can too cry"), Steve and Clint set about picking up their stuff.

"Thank you."

Tony clapped Bruce on the back as he left the room. "You're my favorite, Bruce!"

"I didn't sign up for this," Bruce muttered underneath his breath.

Tony merely grinned wider. "But you still love us, right?"

Bruce rolled his eyes and couldn't stop a small smile. "Right."