Rain slammed the pavement and lightning cracked above in the streets of New York. A skinny black cat raced along the sidewalk, avoiding the cracks with care. It stopped outside of a petite café and, without warning, stood up on his hind paws. The three bystanders out on the street were too occupied with the rain to notice that the cat had disappeared and a tall, skinny man stood in it's place.

The man shoved the door open, nearly knocking the small bell off of it's hook. A teenage girl stood behind the counter and stood dumbfounded for a second as she took in his appearance. He wore a long, black trench coat over a plain white t-shirt and denim skinny jeans. His face was gaunt and pale and his lifeless, green eyes glared at the girl.

"What...uh...can I get you, sir?", she whimpered, biting a manicured nail.

"Two cups of tea. Black", he hissed softly, hands in his pockets.

"Of course, sir".

He sat down at a booth and rested his head against the plastic cushion. Memories flooded his mind and he winced in pain. "They should have known they wouldn't keep me away for long", he muttered under his breath.

"Stupid, petty humans. But, I'll get my revenge on them now..."

"Sir?", a soft voice whispered. The man looked opened his eyes and saw she had laid the tea on the table. He glanced up at her and the corners of his mouth turned upward.

"Thank you, miss", he purred, flashing a perfect white smile at her. The girl blushed deeply and, in her attempt to hide her face, forgot to ask for any money. Humans are so dumb, he thought, draining the first cup. He picked up the stirrer and stirred circles around the second cup. He checked his watch and looked out on the street.

The door opened quickly and another man, more muscular than the first man, walked in a sat across from him.

"Loki", he hissed, in a deep, menacing voice. Loki dipped his head and held it there. "You know what to must do now, correct?"

"Of course, master", hissed Loki. "Of course..."

Natasha Romanoff tapped her long nails against the granite table before her, taking the time to look around her and take in the details of where she was. Wooden walls, easy enough to break through. A single chandelier above her and the table, looking out of place in the rickety old building. There were a thousand rumors about this place, most of them involving someone dying and haunting the area. However, that made it all the more convenient for uninterrupted meetings. However, since Natasha had been waiting for far too long, since night fell, for the man to come, she was growing tired of just sitting there. The chandelier's light reflected off the table, and changed forms as Natasha's shadow fell on it. She stood, and walked to the door. Before she turned the doorknob, she took the time to carve something onto the wall beside it. "ONE MORE CHANCE" it read. Natasha then opened the door and stepped out into the dark streets.

Tony Stark had not had a good day. Meetings, reporters, rumors spread. Questions involving the Avengers and whether he'd start making weapons again. He was down in the deep recesses of his remade Stark Tower, a thousand tools and assorted pieces of metal around him. Over his eyes were safety goggles, and in his hand was a blowtorch. Before him, lying on a table, was the Ironman suit he was making modifications to. Soot covered his face, a smell of singed hair was in the air as Tony worked, losing himself in his work, forcing the pain of the bad day into the metal and forcing it to change, to fit his whims.

Agent Caressa "Rush" Evans walked down the hallway of the SHIELD base, her black high heels clacking against the ground. It was the only sound in the stainless steel hall. She turned a sharp corner, turning a page in the file she was reading. She didn't even need to look up to see whether she was going the right way-the maze that was SHIELD headquarters was nearly branded into her mind, ground into place by years and years of training. Caressa flipped another page, and fixed the paper clip that held much of it together. Finally, she reached her destination. The screen room, as she liked to call it. She entered, closing the door behind her with a soft click, and flipped on the lights. She walked to the nearest computer, and set her file down. The sounds of typing filled the room.

On another block of Manhattan, a small gym sat on the corner, it's doors open to anyone who wanted to escape the rain. In the boxing ring, a tall, heavily muscle man strapped on gloves and punched at the punching-bag. Only two other people were in the gym, a man in his late thirties and a boy in his late teens.

Steve hit the punching bag with his right hand and followed up with a punch from his left arm. The teen looked at him through narrowed eyes and kept lifting his weights. Steve threw himself down into push-ups until he reached a hundred. Sweaty and slightly fatigued, he grabbed his bag and walked out of the doors.

Once on the streets, he wandered down the alleyway towards his apartment. As he passed by a dumpster, he heard a voice.

"Hey you! Muscle man!", taunted the voice. A man of Steve's build stepped forward with two gang members at his sides. "Yeah, you!"

Steve turned and looked at the men. "Can I help you gents?"

"Yeah, you can. Seems my buddy here thinks he can beat you in a fight", cried the man in a thick Brooklyn accent. Steve held his hands up in defense.

"No thanks, man. I don't fight".

"With muscles like that? You look like a fighter. Show 'em what you're made of Dan".

The man on his right stepped forward, fists up and clenched tightly. Steve stepped back slowly.

"Kid! Quit it!", he yelled.

"Ha! Get a load o' that Dan! He seems to think he's above you".

By now, Dan had moved closer to Steve and left only a foot of space between them.

"I'm warning y-". Steve was cut off by a fist connecting with his jaw. Steve threw back a punch, sending the man flying back and on his back. He lay still, not breathing.

"You killed him!"

"N-no! No! He's just in shock! I swear to God!", Steve cried. Quickly, he grabbed his bag and ran off, years stinging his eyes. He knew he hadn't killed the man...but what if he didn't get so lucky next time?

(dun dun duuun)

Natasha was walking down the ever-bustling roads of Manhattan Island, when she heard the sounds of someone being punched. Then, not ten seconds later, Steve Rogers himself came running out of the alley. Natasha sighed, and after running a hand through her red-gold hair, began pursuit of one Captain America. "Steve!" She called, moving quickly. He had his bag with him-he'd just come from the gym. She could tell even from that distance that tears were dripping down his face. She sighed mentally. What had happened this time?

Steve whirled around and spotted a woman running after him.

"N-natasha...?", he asked, still choking back tears. "It's...it's good to see you...". He grinned weakly but soon the tears began to gather in his eyes. "Uh...how have...how have things been?".

Natasha stopped running when she reached Steve. "Hello to you too," She raised an eyebrow and laughed quietly. "Good to see you again. It's been a while. I'm alive." She shrugged. "And why are you crying? I heard something that sounded a little like a fight."

For a second, Steve had no idea what to say to her. The only woman he'd ever had a heart-to-heart conversation with was Becky, but she wasn't here to comfort him now.

"I...", he reluctantly began. "I just...got hurt...yeah, pretty badly". He held his left shoulder and winced for dramatic effect. "So, I better head home now. Sorry". He bent down and, without thinking, picked up the heavy bag with his left arm and jogged towards his apartment.

"It's rather impossible to hurt the great Captain America with a single punch. Now, if the other guy got hit..." Natasha said, pitching her voice so he could still hear her as he left. "He's not dead, by the way. I checked. See you around." She turned and began to walk away, considering going to some cafe to get a milkshake or something. Meeting old friends, having someone not show up to a meeting they scheduled, it all kind of called for chocolate.

Steve turned his head to watch Natasha walk off. With a sigh of relief he continued across the street and opened the door of an apartment building. SHIELD had promised to pay for the apartment and even sent a few hundred dollars in the mail every month to help get him on his feet. They told him he'd have to be cut of one day but truthfully, Steve wasn't in the mood to look for jobs.

Reaching his floor, he unlocked the door and entered. The one bed, one bath apartment was pretty humble in appearance but Steve still enjoyed living there anyway. He locked the door and slipped the dead-bolt into place. Still sweaty and worked up, he stripped down and took a cold shower (the hot water hadn't been working in days).

After drying himself off and changing into loose sweat pants and a t-shirt, he walked to the phone to make a call. To his surprise, the phone rang. Steve picked it up and placed it by his ear.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Rogers?", asked a deep voice. Automatically knowing who it was, Steve replied.

"Speaking".

"Captian. It's time to come back".

"Already? Hell, that's gotta be a new record Nick".

"Be at SHIELD promptly at nine in the morning. Don't be late".

"I'm a soldier, Fury. I'm never late". Steve hung up the phone and went to make himself some dinner, wondering what he was needed for.

Natasha walked down the road, heading back to her small apartment with her chocolate fix in hand. She opened the door, typing in a short code, and closed the door after her. She sighed, setting her drink down on the dresser and considering just for a moment opening that bottle of vodka she had in one of the cabinets. She decided against it. She couldn't afford to have her mind muddled. Unlike Tony Stark, she actually liked her brain cells and preferred to keep them. Natasha sat down on her bed, and pulled a computer over to her. She began to type, and just nodded as the changes she wanted were made.

Full of microwave mac-and-cheese, Steve turned on his old television set and flicked on the Yankees game. After watching a bunch of bad pitchs, Steve felt his eyelids droop and he passed out on the couch just as the game was interuppted by breaking news.

"Sirens wailed and people screamed as they saw the reckage of their favorite neighborhood café. One witness claims it burst into flames just moments after a suspicious looking man left it", said one reporter in a soothing voice. Loki wandered around near the building, careful not to attract attention. Turning his back to the bystanders and walking away, he let out a laugh.

"Humans think they know what magic is...card tricks and pulling rabbits out of hats, eh?", he sneered. "I'll show them real magic..."

Another building lit on fire, just as Loki disappeared into the shadows.

As it was, that news popped up on Natasha's computer. She watched it stoically, and her eyes flickered to the burning wreckage. "Great," She muttered. "What happened this time?"

Pale morning light filtered through the ugly drapes in Steve's apartment. One of America's mantamper ing talk shows began with a loud theme song, making Steve fall off of the couch in fright. He checked the clock; 9:00.

"Shit!", he hissed, running to his room to fix his hair and get dressed.

Within fifteen minutes, he was running down the street in khakis and a bomber jacket. He arrived at the entrance to SHIELD around 9:30.

"I thought you said soldiers were never late", Nick Fury taunted playfully.

"Good to see you too", huffed Steve.

"We need to talk".

"No...really? I thought you...invited me for a...tea party!", Steve sarcastically chided.

"Loki's back. And this time, he means business", Nick said, the humor gone from his voice and his eyes. Steve stood up and stretched.

"Well", Steve sighed. "I guess I'll need that spangly suit again".

Natasha had finally fallen asleep somewhere around midnight, and woke up exactly at nine. She took a shower and got ready for the day before turning on her computer to get the news and leaving the apartment.

Steve looked around the conference room, though there wasn't much to see. He just needed something to think about besides Nick or the Avengers.

"So", he began. "Are the others coming?"

"I should hope so", replied Fury, pondering something.

Steve pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Tony, "You coming?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Tony said, walking into the room with a robot trailing after him. He grinned winningly between Nick and Steve. "Hey! Did you miss me? Of course you did. What's up?"

Crossing his arms, yet grinning ever so slightly, Steve shook his head.

"Well, you're cocky as ever, aren't you? Haven't seen you in a while though. Life been good to you? Of course it has!", chided Steve, looking Tony up and down and then at the robot. "Nice toy"

"Thank you. Life is wonderful so far, and how about you? Missing the life of adventure and your spangly suit? Of course you are," Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

"Life's been truly wonderful", lied Steve. He sat down in one of the leather chairs and flicked through a folder of information. "Why are we even here?", he asked, placing the folder down and turning to Nick.

"We just want to keep an eye on all of you with the events that have occured".

"The fires? That could have been anyone! It might have even been an accident", cried Steve. "Or does New York need firemen so desperately that you've called upon America's finest?" Steve stood up quickly, knocking the chair down with a crash.

"Captia-", began Fury.

"I will not be your plaything!", yelled Steve, the anger showing on his usually composed face. "My army days are over, Fury. I...I can't take this anymore!"

He stormed out into the hallway and slumped down against the wall. What the hell did I just do?, he wondered, surprised by himself as much as Nick was surprised, too.

"Capsicle's firing up," Tony muttered. "Want me to go talk to him?"

"How about this, Mr. Stark. I'll go talk to him. You would antagonize him too much," Natasha said from the doorway

Steve sighed and stood up, wiping his face with his hands. "Why the hell did I do that!?", he cried, talking to himself.

Natasha went to find Steve. She finally found him, and put her hand on his shoulder. "Steve, are you alright?"

Steve tensed as Natasha put her hand on his shoulder.

"I don't even know anymore...", he sighed. "One minute I'm fine, and the next, I'm on my knees, crying like a little kid. I just...sometimes I think it would've been better if the agents just left me in the ice to die!"

He punched through the wall, leaving a gaping hole and his fist dusty and throbbing with pain.

"Steve, punching things doesn't help," Natasha said, walking around him so she was in front of him. He was taller than her by a lot, she thought. "Nothing would be better if anyone just left you in the ice. You've been under a lot of stress. Don't blame yourself."

Tears once again lined Steve's eyes. Without warning, he reached forward and wrapped Natasha in a warm embrace for a second. He suddenly realized what he had done and backed up quickly, blushing deeply.

"Uh, I...um...thank you. A lot", he stuttered. Steve turned and walked into the conference room where he sat down at the table.

Natasha stood there for a second longer after Steve had gone back in before entering again herself. Mentally, she was asking why did he do that? What's it mean, anyway? He's not exactly the kind of guy who goes around just hugging people. "You're welcome," She said quietly to him as she went and sat down as well.

Avoiding Natasha's gaze, Steve settled down into the chair and looked toward Fury.

"So", he began. "Why are we hear, anyway?" Nick considered the question then finally, and quite reluctantly, replied.

"Think of it as...life insurance. We don't know where Loki is right now or what he's doing, where he'll strike and how badly. We'll be keeping you all here in lockdown until we can get Loki back to where he came from".

"Can't his brother do that?", questioned Steve.

"We've had no word from Thor since the attack on Manhattan last year", hissed Nick, slightly angered by the Captian's cockiness today. "Now, I expect you all t-".

"Sorry I'm late! So sorry! I grabbed the first flight here from Seattle!", cried a voice, and in stormed Dr. Banner, luggage in hand. "Terribly sorry. My flight was delayed and I...". Bruce continued his rambling to Fury and Steve decided it was time to go explore SHIELD. Without asking, he stood up and walked out of the room and down the hall at random.

(By the way, if you want, you can control Bruce and/or Hawkeye for now until we get another person to)

"Life insurance, hm? Interesting way to think of it. Are you going to have us move back into the SHIELD base?" Natasha asked, though her eyes were watching Steve as he left. "Dr. Banner. Good to see you again. Sorry about your flight, but it probably couldn't be helped."

"Hey, science buddy!" Tony turned his insufferable grin on Bruce. "Been a while!"

"Ha,yeah", chuckled Bruce, but it was obvious he was still shaken from all of the stress. He massaged his temples and looked to Fury.

"So, uh, if we're staying here, where should I unpack?"

"There are some rooms on the floor below, Doctor" replied Nick, already leaving the room.

"Is having an uncontrollable green monster under SHIELD such a good idea?", Bruce sighed and shook his head as he walked out of the room.

--------

Steve pulled a pair of wire-rimmed sunglasses from his breast pocket and put them on. Walking toward the exit door, he showed his I.D. to the guard and was let out easily. "If I have to stay here", he sighed. "I might as well do it in peace with my own belongings". Steve walked out into the middle of Manhattan and made his way toward his apartment.

--------

Loki paced the street in front of a dingy apartment building. Two men stood nearby in the shadows. One of the men stepped forward and walked toward Loki.

"You sure this is the right building?" he asked, cracking his knuckles instinctively.

"Gentlemen", began Loki. "I've been following Mr. Rogers for a while now. If we don't get him now, SHIELD will lock him away like the cowards they are".

Loki looked towards the doors, where a young man in a leather jacket had just entered.

"Wait for it", he murmured. Finally, he saw the outline of a person in the window of Steve's apartment.

"Blow this place to shreds, please". Loki turned and walked off, hiding his face in the upturned collar of his trenchcoat.

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