Sorry guys! I uploaded the wrong version of the ending :( This is the actual ending I revised. Sorry about that!

Versus - Chapter 3

Oh God, Steve. Don't be dead. Don't be dead. Don't be dead.

Tony rushes over to Steve's lifeless body. He's landed on his side and is slightly curled in on himself with his arms resting in front of his face. Steam rises from his burned shoulder and Tony holds Steve's slack face in his iron gloves and gently shakes him. "Steve. Steve, wake up. Please wake up. I'm so sorry."

The Quinjet lands a short distance away and the Avengers rush onto the scene. They're ready to fight, but instead they're shocked at the incredible damage done to the compound in front of them. It's a wonder there's anything still standing… or kind of standing.

"So much for 'covert'," Clint snaps and rushes over while the other Avengers secure the area. "What the hell is that?" Clint frowns when he sees the box attached to Steve spark as it starts to rapidly pump the drug through it's damaged circuit.

"Shit. Kind of a long story," Tony grumbles as he tries to turn the machine off. Another blast from the base sends a huge fireball into the sky and rains fiery chunks of debris down on them. Tony leans over Steve to shield him from the spay of debris when Steve jerks awake. His mind is confused as the drug continues to pump into his system and he's still lost in the battle. He acts out of instinct, kicking Tony off of him and sending him skipping across the snowy ground and over the edge of a steep drop off. Tony grabs onto the ledge and hangs on for dear life while Steve scrambles away from the two Avengers.

"JARVIS, fire the thrusters," Tony strains as his fingers start to slide off the icy ledge. He tries to pull himself up, but the damaged gears in his arm prevent him from climbing.

"Thrusters were damaged in the battle, Sir. Power is at 7% and falling."

"Not an acceptable answer, JARVIS," Tony shouts. "Could use a little help, Clint!" Hawkeye is torn on pursuing Steve or helping Tony, but he rushes over and grabs onto Tony's arm and uses all of his strength to haul the man and his very heavy armor up and over the edge of the cliff.

"Where's Steve?" Tony pants after rolling over the ledge and laying on his back.

"Don't know," Clint answers breathlessly. "I was too busy saving your heavy, iron ass."

"Steve!" Tony shouts through the now blizzarding snow. The two Avengers split up and search the grounds and Tony finds Steve near the Quinjet. Steve is on his knees and grasping at the mask on his face, trying frantically to remove it. "Cap!" Tony rushes over. Steve stumbles to his feet and holds his shield up defensively. He's hyperventilating, trying desperately to draw in air through the damaged machine on his face. He slowly backs up when he sees Tony approaching, confusion and delirium reflecting in his eyes.

"Easy, Buddy," Tony holds his hands in front of him, trying to communicate that he's not a threat. "Steve, let me help you." Tony cautiously and slowly approaches Steve. Clint starts to come up behind him and Steve swings his eyes over to the approaching archer. Tony signals him to stop. "Hang back, Hawk. Steve's out of it and this thing is still pumping out Kilgrave's drug. I've got to get it off of him so I can shut it off.

"Use this," Clint backs up and shoots an arrow that lodges itself in the ground near Tony.

"Just take it easy, Steve. Alright?" Tony keeps his hand in front of him as he slowly kneels to pulls the arrow from the frozen ground. "Steve, look at me," Steve watches Tony suspiciously and keeps his shield close. "Do you recognize me? Do you know who I am?"

"…Tony…," Steve pants through the machine.

"Right. I'm your friend and I need you to trust me right now so I can help you. Do you trust me?" Tony is standing only a few feet from Steve when he collapses down to his knees, wheezing and desperately trying to pull in oxygen. Steve stares at him with panicked blue eyes, but slowly nods. Tony cautiously approaches and kneels in front of Steve. The billionaire slowly guides Steve's face to the side and carefully works the arrow head under the strap of the mask. He cuts the mask free, but it's still stuck. "Stay with me, Steve," Tony pleads when Steve starts to cough and his breathing becomes more and more labored. He starts to cut the strap holding the box to Steve's chest when the Soldier collapses onto his side. He almost can't get his finger under the strap it's pulled so tight around Steve's chest. He finally manages to cut the device free and Tony tosses it aside in disgust.

Steve coughs and gasps in air desperately. "Stay awake, Steve," Tony slaps his face lightly when Steve's eyes roll back.

"We gotta get him in the jet," Clint runs to Tony's side now that the danger of Kilgrave's drug is gone.

"Steve, I need you to get up. My armor is too damaged to carry you," Tony grabs Steve's arm and tries to pull him up. "Come on, Spangles. I need you to help me," Tony pleads and Steve tries to stand, but leans heavily on Tony.

"Stark," Natasha comes running up. "We've got all the cartel members we could find. What's your status?"

"We need Thor!" Tony shouts as he struggles to get Steve to the jet. Thor comes running up and frowns when he sees the state of his friends. "We need you to help us get Steve in the jet." Thor nods and gently takes Steve from Tony.

"Be still, Captain," Thor calms Steve when he jerks away. "You are among friends. You need not fear any longer." Thor carries Steve to the jet. His face is pale under the bruises, blood and dirt. His upper shoulder took the brunt of the blast and the areas where the suit has burned away reveal angry, scorched tissue.

"Grab that piece of shit too," Tony points to the heap on the ground that is what's left of Kilgrave. Natasha and Hulk work on securing the cartel members while Clint drags Kilgrave into the brig.

Thor sets Steve down on the medical bay bed on the jet. "There's a truck that left here heading north about thirty-five minutes ago," Tony instructs Thor as he immediately gets oxygen flowing for Steve. "It's transporting the drug that Kilgrave used to control Steve. Don't touch it. Don't inhale it. Take Hulk and stop them before they make it across the boarder."

"They will not make it much farther," Thor promises and rushes out to find Hulk.

Tony pulls off this helmet and starts to stabilize his friend. He starts to cut the thick body armor from Steve's torso and carefully pulls the armor away to reveal a mix of purple, black, and blue bruises scattered across Steve's body. Tony winces when he sees the deep purple bruise on the side of his ribcage that is partially in the shape of the Iron Man armor's boot and his fist. The worst of the damage is on Steve's shoulder where the uni-beam hit. His shoulder and arm are badly burned and the surrounding tissue on his side, back, chest, and neck are red and angry.

"Purple man is contained," Clint reports and walks over to Tony to assist him. He pulls out the leads from the on-board monitor and starts to hook Steve up while Tony goes to work on cleaning up the puncture on Steve's leg. "What the hell happened down there?"

"Kilgrave synthesized a concentrated form of the mind-control pheromone he secretes and figured out how to mix it with some kind of narcotic," Tony frowns when he cuts away the fabric around the puncture in Steve's leg. The jagged edges on the board have done some serious damage and the wound won't stop bleeding. Tony pulls out the larger chunks and splinters and wraps it tightly. "He dosed Steve with some of it when we first discovered Kilgrave."

"Bastard," Clint whispers under his breath.

"I was able to damage it enough to where Steve could regain some control for a moment or two. He was able to hold it together long enough for me to get a shot in. That's how this happened," Tony gently wipes away the blood and sweat away from Steve's shoulder when the man starts to stir slightly. His breathing starts to quicken and his head lolls from side to side while he mumbles something Tony can't quite make out. Steve suddenly starts to panic and fumbles at the oxygen mask on his face..

"Hey, take it easy Spangles," Tony whispers and pulls Steve's hands away. "It's only oxygen. Kilgrave's machine is off. It's off."

"Tony?" Steve pants and settles a little. His eyes are still closed, trapped somewhere between consciousness and dream.

"It's me, Steve," Tony answers and continues to wipe away the dirt and blood from Steve's shoulder.

"Tony…." Steve mumbles again. "Tony…y-you have to…have to finish it." Steve groans, still trapped in his delirium.

"Steve. It's over. We beat him," Tony lays a hand over Steve's forehead. He's warm, but no fever.

"That son-of-a-bitch better pray he dies from his injuries before I get to him," Clint threatens.

"Yeah?" Tony snorts. "Get in line."

Despite Tony's assurances, Steve continues to become more and more agitated, panting and mumbling while he sweats and writhes against unseen hands and voices. Clint does his best to calm him and hold him still while Tony works on treating his injuries.

"Steve. Steve, wake up," Tony finally holds Steve's face in his hands and he blearily opens his eyes. "Look at me, Steve. You're out. You're safe. He doesn't control you anymore. Understand?" His voice is firm and grounding. Steve's delirious, blue eyes search Tony's before he slowly nods and calms.

"W-where are we?" Steve pants and searches the room with his half-lidded eyes.

"On the Quinjet." Tony answers.

"What happened?"

"Not important right now," Tony keeps his answer short, not wanting to get into details right now with Steve.

"Are you…are you hurt?" Steve lifts a shaky hand to inspect the broken armor on Tony's arm.

"I'm fine. Just take it easy," Tony pushes his hand back down to the bed and continues to wipe away the dirt from Steve's shoulder. Steve groans and tries to curl in on his arm as Tony starts to clean the more badly burned area.

"Shhhh," Tony calms and pushes Steve back down. "Almost done, Spangles."

"D-did you j-just shush me?" A weakened version of Steve's 'I'm so funny' smirk mixes with a wince as his body shivers.

Tony huffs out a laugh "I did. Now shut up. You need to rest."

"H-hey, Clint," Steve mumbles with tired eyes when he notices Clint standing to the side.

"Hey, Cap," Clint offers a weak smile.

"Steve," Tony frowns. Rest. Now."

"W-where's the rest of the team?" Steve asks while watching Tony clean his shoulder.

"Shush," Tony orders. "God, you're a chatty when you're drugged up."

"Tony…."

"Shush," Tony continues to ignore him.

"C-can't believe y-you're still s-shushing me…" Steve's blinks begin to get longer and longer as exhaustion begins to take over.

"I am shushing you. Maybe you should listen and shush." Tony begins to wipe away the soot from Steve's neck.

"L-listen to y-you?" Steve huffs as his eyes begin to slide shut.

"Yeah, it's a wild concept. You should try it," Tony smirks.

"No thanks. Sounds like a good way to get into trouble," Steve mumbles before he finally drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

"Hey, we got the truck back." Bruce pokes his head in the door. "Thor decided to…" A loud explosion shakes the Quinjet before Bruce can finish his sentence. "…throw it on the fire to destroy the drugs…How's Steve?" Bruce walks into the room. His pants are tattered and he's wearing a sweater he probably 'borrowed' from one of the Cartel members because it's entirely too baggy and not something Bruce would ever wear.

"Stable and finally resting," Tony reports.

"What about you?" Bruce asks as he looks Tony's suit up and down. "Steve really did a number on you, didn't he?"

"Well, neither one of us got away injury free," Tony raises a brow and nods as he looks down at his armor for the first time since the battle. There's not a square inch that doesn't have some sort of deep scratch. dent or scorch mark. His chest plate is dented on the side in the shape of Steve's fist and his arm has a gash from when Steve hit him with his shield that's so deep it exposes his arm under the armor. He still can't bend his arm that Steve damaged the gears in. All of this combined with the explosives that Steve planted on him, the armor is pretty much totaled.

"Clint's got Steve covered," Bruce looks over to Clint and the Archer gives him a nod. "You need to get looked at."

Tony reluctantly follows Bruce to the other side of the bay. "Are you going to be able to get out of the suit?"

"Hopefully," Tony walks over to one of the panels on the wall and it opens up and the gears on the armor starts to grind and spark when mechanical arms reach out to dismantle the suit. All the pieces come off, even with the damaged gears, except for the pieces that cover his arm. Tony hits it a few times on the table to try to get it to respond, but the armor is thoroughly stuck. "Well, most of it came off." Tony looks up and sighs when he sees that the armor is so trashed that it won't even flow into the wall where it's stored. Instead it's sparking and stuck outside of the wall.

Bruce raises a brow at Tony and starts to look him over, focusing on a nasty cut on his arm under the armor. "Can you get it off?"

Tony studies the armor and frowns. "I think I can. Hand me that screwdriver." Bruce hands it to him and Tony starts to work on releasing his arm.

"You're lucky you were wearing your armor," Bruce points out as he looks at the armor that's sticking out of the wall. He looks closely at some of the damage, but quickly pulls away when another spark flies out from somewhere.

"Got it!" Tony announces triumphantly a short time later and the armor pops open and falls to the ground.

"You're going to need stitches," Bruce frowns as he inspects the laceration. He grabs some supplies out of the cabinets and gets to work.

"Ow," Tony complains. "Ow…ow..ow…ow, ow, ow….OW! Cut it out!" Tony pushes Bruce's hands away.

"Quit being such a baby," Bruce gives Tony a look as he places the last stitch. "You don't even have any broken bones, but you do have a concussion and some pretty bad cuts and bruises."

"Probably when Steve blew me up…the first time." Tony studies the stitches running across his arm.

"He blew you up?" Bruce's eyes widen.

"Twice," Tony huffs. "Be he didn't exactly get away unscathed either," Tony frowns while he watches Steve from across the room.

"You two are never allowed to go on mission together by yourselves again. Ever." Bruce places some butterfly tape over a cut on Tony's brow.

"You're no fun," Tony mock-frowns. Bruce is about to reprimand him when Clint walks over.

"Hey, Steve is resting and seems stable enough. Thor and Widow are taking care of our 'guests' in the brig. They were asking for you to come help them out with stabilizing Purple Man, Bruce." Clint reports and Bruce nods.

"You," Bruce turns and points to Tony. "Get some rest. I'll be back to check on both of you soon." The men leave, Bruce to the brig and Clint to the cockpit to fly them out of this frozen, beachless, hell-hole, and Tony lays down on the uncomfortable bed in the small sick bay. Bruce flips off the light as he exits the bay, leaving only the dim, emergency lights on.

Tony lays on his back and stares up at the ceiling. The room is completely still and quiet, save for the quiet beeps coming from across the room where Steve is sound asleep. Tony can tell by the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest in the low lights. He watches him for a moment, remembering the chaos of the day and how lucky they both are to be alive right now.

Tony drifts in and out of a light sleep, but can't fully fall asleep in the uncomfortable medical bay bed. He finally can't take it anymore. Tony swings his legs out of the bed, but pauses when his sore muscles protest. After resting and letting his body settle he realizes how achy he is from the fight. He shuffles across the room and grabs a cushioned chair sitting near the entrance of the bay. He pushes it across the room, but stumbles when the chair crashes into the edge of a metal cabinet he didn't see in the low lights. He grunts and groans when the sudden collision causes the chair to gut punch him in his sore belly.

After he takes a moment to recover he continues to make his way across the room with his chair, that is now screeching across the tiled floor because one of the little legs was bent from the collision. He shoves it next to Steve's bedside and plops down in the chair. After a few moments he gets up to get a blanket and shuffles his way back to the dented metal cabinet he crashed into earlier and pulls on the door, but the door is stuck. He pulls again, but it doesn't budge. Frustrated, he jerks the door open and the metal screeches and rumbles as the door pulls free. Satisfied that he got the door open, Tony grabs a blanket off the shelf and shuffles back to the chair. He gingerly eases his creaky body into the soft chair, grunting and groaning as he lowers himself to the cushion.

The chair taps the floor as it rocks from side to side because of the bent leg and Tony groans in frustration. He stands up again and grabs a wad of gauze from one of the jars on the counter and shoves it under the bent leg to even out the chair.

"Are you always this loud?" Steve mumbles from his bed, his voice rough from sleep.

"Have you met me?" Tony huffs.

"Good point," Steve runs a hand down his face, but flinches when his shoulder sharply protests. "What happened?" He asks as he hazily looks at his shoulder.

"Mission wasn't quite a covert as we wanted it to be," Tony finally settles into the chair and kicks his feet up on Steve's bed.

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Steve waits for more of an explanation.

"Purple Man got to you," Tony answers quietly

"Did I do that to you?" Steve frowns and points to Tony's arm.

"Yeah, but I did that to you," Tony points to Steve's bandaged shoulder. "For a simple intel mission, this Mexico trip sucked."

"Tell me about it," Steve winces when his broken ribs grind when he shifts. He looks down to his side and notices the deep, purple bruise. "Is that your boot print?"

"I may have….had to…kick you…and punch you," Tony mumbles and Steve is surprised to see a bit of shame cross his face.

"Don't worry about it, Tony," Steve smirks. "I'm just glad I didn't kill you."

"You? Kill me?" Tony raises a brow.

"Yeah. We all know that I'm the better fighter. If we had a face off it's a miracle you're still alive right now."

God, there's that stupid 'I'm funny' smirk again.

"You're not the better fighter. I'm pretty sure my armor and I beat you today."

"You mean that armor?" Steve points to the suit that's still stuck outside of the wall as another spark flies out of it. "I dunno. It kind of looks like I kicked your tail today."

"I'm more in one piece than you are, Spangles."

"I was holding back."

"That's bullshit," Tony gives Steve a smug smile. "Besides, I'm not the one laid up in the hospital bed right now."

"Who's laid up?" Steve shoots back and slowly pushes himself up to a sitting position.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Not being laid up," Steve grunts and doubles over a little, wrapping his arm around his injured ribs.

"Are you seriously trying to get up right now to just make a point?"

"….No…." Steve groans.

"God, you're a stubborn, old man," Tony sighs.

"Not stubborn," Steve winces. After he lets his body settle for a moment he wills himself to stand and nearly falls over.

"Seriously Steve? What the hell are you doing?" Tony quickly stands and catches Steve.

"I gotta hit the head," Steve steadies himself on the wall.

"Steve, get back in the bed. There's the pan thing-y right here," Tony holds up the plastic bed pan. "You're what? Ninty-something-years-old? There's no shame."

"I'm not using that thing," Steve frowns.

"Not stubborn, my ass," Tony mumbles and rolls his eyes. "Fine, let me help you."

"I don't need help going to the bathroom, Tony," Steve insists as he stumbles and limps his way to the bathroom. Tony raises his hands in the air and gives up. Steve returns a few minutes later.

"Now where are you going?" Tony turns around in his chair when Steve hobbles past the bed and into the hall. Ignoring Tony, he opens a hatch and returns with two beer bottles in his hand. He pops the cap off and hands it to the Inventor.

"As promised," Steve shuffles to the trash can and throws the caps away. "The best brew in Brooklyn." He raises his bottle and Tony does the same.

"That is good," Tony sighs after taking a drink.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Bruce asks from the doorway and flipping on the light. Steve flinches with the sudden change in brightness.

"Uh-oh. Busted," Tony chugs the beer down.

"Beer is the last thing you two should be drinking right now. And you, why are you out of bed?"

"I had to go to the bathroom," Steve frowns when Bruce takes away his beer before he even got to take a sip. Tony chugs the rest of his bottle down before Bruce is able to snatch it away.

"You," he points to Tony. "No more beer."

"Steve gave it to me," Tony pouts and Steve shoots him a look.

"And you," Bruce points to Steve. "Get back in bed." Steve limps back to the bed and gingerly sits down. "All the way in," Bruce orders and Steve sighs before painfully laying his sore body back down. "Both of you, stay put. I will be back to check on you soon," he threatens and flips off the lights.

"Ma'ma Bruce yelled at you," Tony laughs. "Ouch! What the hell, Steve?" Tony frowns and rubs his leg where Steve punched him.

"That's for ratting me out on the beer," Steve smirks and flinches at the same time. His bandage scraped across his burned shoulder when he punched Tony, but it was worth it.

"God forbid Captain America gets in trouble," Tony mocks.

"Damn straight," Steve replies.

"Did you just swear?" Tony stares at him in disbelief.

"You shot me and tattled on me all in the same day. I have every right to swear at you." Steve mumbles

"Swearing? Drinking beer? Sneaking out of bed? Who are you?!"

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Steve?"

"Shush."

Hope you guys enjoyed this shorter story! I've got a couple more cute/funny ideas in the works since this story and "Don't Wake Me" were both kind of dark and angst-y. I'll be posting soon, so keep an eye open for new stories! Thanks so much for reading!