Clint awoke to the sound of deafening thunder. He was disoriented and groggy, two feelings he hated intensely, and it took him a moment to realize where he was. Thunder crashed again outside the helicarrier, and as it echoed everything came back to him in a flood of memories and emotions. "Steve," he whispered, hastily pushing himself up from his warm bed and looking at the clock that hung on his wall, the only thing even resembling a decoration that he kept in his SHIELD quarters. It had been three hours since he had gone to meet Natasha in the hangar. Anger welled up at the thought that she had purposely put him to bed when he should have been with Steve, but he knew he would have done the same had their positions been reversed.

Without wasting any time he took off for Med Bay to see if anything had changed. He broke into a run when his mind began to taunt him, thinking of everything that could have gone horribly wrong while he slept. Thunder roared yet again, closer now and loud enough to rattle anything that wasn't bolted down. He spared a second to remember the square of clear blue sky he had glimpsed through the hangar doors, but quickly dismissed the thought.

Clint was stunned by the lack of activity he saw once he reached the waiting room. One nurse sat at the desk playing solitaire on the computer, and the room was otherwise empty. Immediately assuming the worst, he walked straight to the nurse and demanded, "What happened? Where's Rogers?"

She looked up, startled, then paled noticeably. "Oh. Agent Barton. He's, um… he's still in the ICU. But the doctor, he said… he said Captain Rogers won't make it through the night unless Dr. Banner comes up with something in the next few hours. I… I'm sorry. He hasn't made any progress yet."

Feeling sick to his stomach, Clint ignored the nurse's next apology and marched through the doors to intensive care. The nurses inside looked startled but did nothing to stop him from finding and entering Steve's room. He hadn't seen his teammate since their arrival on the helicarrier and the sight of him now made the knot in his stomach pull even tighter. He carefully kept his eyes away from his friend's missing limbs and settled into the hard plastic chair by his bed. He slipped his hand into Steve's cold, motionless one. If Cap was going to die tonight he sure as hell wasn't going to be alone. Thunder continued to roll, but it was pushed to the back of his mind as he kept his vigil.

…

Thor landed on the deck of the helicarrier hard enough to jar the entire ship. Alarms went off and people ran toward the commotion, but he ignored them all and stalked toward the lower decks, his agitation causing the weather to turn even angrier. As soon as he had heard what was happening with his friends on Earth, he had made his father allow him to return to New York. He was upset that it had taken him so long to hear of Rogers' condition, and angry that he had been away in the first place. He had been coming and going ever since returning his brother to Asgard, but his visits to Earth had become both brief and seldom in recent months. It wasn't that he liked to be away from his team – in fact, he missed them all so much that he sometimes had trouble focusing on his duties in Asgard. But his father was growing weary and hoped to pass on his crown to Thor before much longer. Thor was taking on more responsibility and was finding it harder and harder to take time away. He knew that once he was King he would no longer be able to be a part of the Avengers, and the thought killed him. He still hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even Steve, and now was obviously not the time.

He stalked purposefully through the halls, eliciting startled glances from agents who were scrambling to find the source of the disturbance, and quickly found the room he was looking for. "Healer, I demand to know the whereabouts of the Captain." He realized too late how harsh he sounded, as the poor girl nearly jumped out of her skin, but under the circumstances he hardly cared. She gestured wordlessly at a door to her left and without hesitation he entered the hallway beyond it. He walked quickly, looking in every doorway until he came across a sight that would haunt him for years to come.

Steve, looking more dead than alive, lay motionless and broken on a white hospital bed. At his side, bent under the weight of guilt and fear, was Hawkeye, head in one hand and the other gripping Steve's for dear life. He looked every inch like a man without hope, and what little Thor had been holding onto vanished. Forgetting everything but that his friend needed him, he took the chair on the side of the bed opposite Clint and grabbed Steve's empty hand. Barton met his eyes for a second, confirming Thor's fears, and then returned his gaze to the floor.

Thor began to speak softly to Steve, apologizing for his absence and his late arrival. He spoke of his time in Asgard and some of the things he missed most about Earth, and retold the stories of some of his favorite missions. Clint never looked up or spoke, but there was an almost imperceptible decrease in the tension in his shoulders as Thor continued to talk.

…

"I've got it. I've got it!" The sudden cry startled Tony out of his deep thoughts, and he looked up disbelievingly at Bruce. The man was haggard, in need of a shower and a good night's sleep, but he was all but jumping up and down and a huge grin split his face nearly in two. "It's working! We just need to add this to the blood bags and he should start to heal." He held up a box containing syringes filled with a clear liquid. Tony felt a strange combination of intense relief and disbelief. He had nearly given up hope, had almost thrown in the towel and left for Steve's room to be by his side when he died. The fact that that was no longer certain was overwhelming.

Bruce was already halfway out of the lab, moving as quickly as he could without damaging any of the syringes that would save Steve's life. Natasha was right on his heels, and Tony could practically see all of the questions she wanted to ask but kept to herself. Tony followed them, wanting to take off for Med Bay at a dead sprint. To occupy his mind during the long walk, Tony pulled out his phone and reopened the file he had been working on. He hadn't been much help to Bruce, as his expertise was not in the medical field, but he had needed something to work on. As much as he hated to admit it, he had looked for an excuse to say as far away from the hospital room as he could. The idea of sitting there and slowly watching Steve die turned his stomach. He suspected the same of Romanov, who had been moving back and forth between the lab and Steve's side since her arrival on the helicarrier. Tony had spent the hours in the lab working on something that would help Steve out greatly in the long run, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that there still may not be a long run.

The infirmary was quiet when they arrived, but one look at the two of them and the nurse at the desk jumped out of her seat and began paging the doctors. One appeared immediately, whisking Banner back into the hallway without a word. Tony began to follow, but the nurse stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. They'll need room to work. Please take a seat and wait out here." He contemplated ignoring her request, but it seemed reasonable enough and he didn't want to be in the way.

He settled once again into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. He would have to talk to Fury about getting new chairs. Was there a rule he didn't know about that required waiting room chairs to be so hard? A moment later Hawkeye and Thor emerged from the ICU, wearing nearly identical looks of surprise and hesitant hope. Tony was mildly surprised to see Thor there, but he did always have an uncanny ability to know when he was needed on Earth.

"You have found a cure, then?" Thor asked, taking a seat across from Tony.

"Bruce thinks so. We'll just have to wait and see." The four of them sat there, silently waiting, the tension in the room so thick Tony could hardly breathe.