Coulson was having nightmares again. Some were of specific things, of missions gone wrong, deaths that he had given, either by his hand or by proxy, marks that were missed.
Some of the nightmares were horrific creations of his own mind, watching his Charges die, seeing Clint fall beneath Loki's control, of Stark not making it back out of the portal (he had seen video), of Bruce not being able to come back from Hulking out, Of Steve once again falling victim to Ice, of Natasha not coming back from a mission, of Thor being forced to Stay on Asgard.
They were all his Charges, even if only Clint and Natasha held the Official Titles. Everyone and their cousins knew the Avengers were his, and everyone accepted it, even Nick had referred to them as his.
He had his own room in the Tower, a whole Half floor to himself, the other half shared by Clint and Natasha. He rarely slept alone these Days, one or more of his Charges in the bed because of some excuse or another.
But today was bad. It was cold outside, Winter in full fury (excuse the pun) and it was causing his scars to ache, especially the one in his Chest. The mark went from front to back, and he had been told many time by the SHIELD nurses he shouldn't be alive. His two-week-long Coma should have led to death.
How ridiculous. He couldn't die. Far too much paperwork.
He rubbed his chest, and lay back on the couch, sighing as he decided maybe a nap would help him feel better...
Tony and Bruce paused as they were walking, both looking at each other in confusion as they passed the large communal living room.
"Hear that? Yeah." Tony finished Bruce's sentence without thought, speaking quietly, and took the other scientists hand, moving towards the living room where 'Project Runway' was playing a low, steady volume.
At first glance, the room was empty, but then a familiar Captain America cup - ("This is my cup, and if I catch any of you using it, I will give you so much paperwork, you'll cry.") - was sitting on the side table. He walked forward, and saw, with some horror on his part, that Coulson was making silent 'sounds', looking like he was whimpering, curled up on the couch, and there were /tears/ running down his eyes.
Tony looked at Bruce, who looked startled, and ran from the room, going to find Clint and Natasha. Steve and Thor wandered in, wondering what was going on, and Thor frowned, and spoke, keeping his voice at a low register.
"What is wrong with our Son of Coul?" Tony felt a low thrum of heat when Thor said 'Our Son of Coul'. He ignored it for now, but shook his head. "I don't kn-" Clint came in like a whirlwind, and frowned. "He can't sleep alone, it gives him nightmares." He said instantly.
Tony grinned, and looked at Steve, who blinked back at him. "Pick him up, Capsicle. We'll take him to the Bedroom, and we'll all lay down with him." Steve smiled. "He'll like that." He agreed, and carefully picked him up.
It was a testament to how tired he was that the touch didn't wake him up, and he headed for Tony's room without asking. Tony had the biggest bed, big enough to hold all of them.
Thor climbed in First, taking the far side, followed by Bruce, whom Thor wrapped a comfortable arm around. Clint went next, and then Steve lay Coulson down, Natasha taking Coulson's other side. Steve lay beside Natasha with a soft Blush, and Tony took the far, far side, an arm wrapping around Steve.
"Lights, Jarvis." Tony mumbled, and they sank to almost off, leaving just a faint glow, offset by the blue glow of Tony's Arc Reactor through his shirt.
Coulson woke up a bit later, feeling warm and soft, and immediately realized this was not the living room. He felt Clint's arm and smelled his cologne tight against him, and could feel the swell of Natasha's breasts pressed against his side, her fingers entangled with Clints as their hands rested over his own heart.
He lifted his head, and saw Thor and Bruce on the other side of Clint, cuddled together tightly asleep, Steve and Tony almost mirroring him on the other side of Natasha.
His Team. His Companions. While Clint and Natasha would always hold a special spot in his heart, he loved them all. And with the thought they were there with him, Warm and Safe and Happy, he layed back, slowly going back to sleep as he let his own hand tangle with Clint and Natasha's over his chest.