Chapter Eight- the Inner Workings of Captain America

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"I'm bored!" Stark whined, spinning in his chair. "You guys are boring!"

"You're hardly one to speak," Loki sneered. "All you do is embarrass yourself and drink yourself unconscious."

"And what is your idea of fun, exactly? Murdering children?"

"At least I am appealing enough that children come near me, and that my odour doesn't drive them away!"

Steve watched the exchange with a strange detachedness. He'd gotten past caring, and was long past trying to intervene. Back and forth, back and forth, Stark and Loki, Stark and Loki... it all became background noise to him. He vaguely registered Thor trying to break them off, but still didn't care.

"Steve?" Bucky tapped his shoulder. "You still with us?" Steve glanced up briefly before going back to gazing into the middle distance. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Steve mumbled. Thor was now trying- rather unsuccessfully- to pull his brother away from Stark. Loki had somehow managed to get a hold of a feather duster and was now repeatedly hitting Stark over the head with it. Stark sneezed, pushing Loki away.

"Where the hell did you get that?" he snarled. Loki smirked.

"I'm a master of magic, you moron. I magicked it up," he sneered. Tony flushed, turning a strange purple shade.

"I am not a moron!" he yelled. Steve sighed. This constant arguing was getting a bit old, to be honest. But he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it. So he sat. And watched. He watched Stark hit Loki with a chair. He watched Loki push Thor into a table and pelt Tony with stuffed bears. He watched Stark tackle Loki to the ground and hit him. He watched Thor pull Stark off his brother and hold him back. He watched, and still didn't care.

Loki was his enemy. Stark was his enemy, even though they were here on a truce. It didn't matter. He couldn't trust Stark. He didn't trust anyone any more. Just Bucky. Always Bucky. Bucky stood by him, always. Even when he was under HYDRA brainwashing he'd come back to him. Back to his family. Back to Steve.

"Captain?" Steve looked up slowly, his eyes focusing on the figure in front of him. Peter stood before him, offering a mug of steaming liquid. Steve took it and sipped the hot mixture. Rich chocolate rolled over his tongue, the whipped cream on top leaving a mustache. He wiped it off, feeling warmth settling in his bones. He nodded gratefully.

"Thanks kid," he smiled. "And it's Steve." Peter grinned.

"You're welcome, Captain," he turned away, picking up a tray laden with more mugs, and walked round offering them to everyone. He managed to distract the two fighting men. Steve's smile broadened. He hadn't smiled in such a long time. It felt good.

"Hey, Steve! You're doing something weird with your face!" Sam looked horrified. "It almost looks like you're smiling! But that's... that's not possible!" Steve rolled his eyes.

"Idiot," he muttered. And, somehow, everything seemed to be okay again.

A/N: just a quick chapter. I made Cap seem so sad :(  hope you're enjoying the story! Love you guys xxx

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