Baby Rogers

Chapter One

Steve sighed heavily as he stumbled into the elevator, barely able to stand. New York City was laying in ruins, thanks to Loki and his alien crew, and Steve was tasked with leading the cleanup crew. Not that he was complaining. Steve had been the one to suggest it after all; he felt that it was just as much the Avengers fault as it was Loki's. 

"Sir, this is your floor." JARVIS's cool voice rang out in the elevator, as the door opened. 

"Right, thanks." Steve said, looking up at the ceiling, as was his usual habit. He plopped his shield down on the floor, ignoring the rather loud bang it made (he didn't even want to bring it anyway, but Fury said it was for protection) and trudged off to his room, desperate to wash the dirt and dust off his body and then collapse in bed. 

He was just pulling on his sweats, when a voice rang out. 

"Cap?" 

"Yeah, hang on Barton, coming." Steve called out, wondering what on Earth Barton could want, and also wondering how long he would take. 

"Got a call from Fury." Clint said, when Steve walked into the room, still tugging a T-shirt on as he walked. "He said I'm supposed to help you tomorrow since Stark isn't bothering." Clint walked into Steve kitchen and pulled a beer out of his mini bar (Tony had insisted, even after Steve told him he couldn't get drunk.). 

"Really, help yourself." Steve muttered, but there was a slight smile on his face. "Glad to have you on the crew, Barton. It'll be nice to have some extra help." He said, his serious-cap-voice automatically turning on. 

"It's Clint, Cap." Clint responded, taking another sip of his beer. "We're a team now, I guess."

"Then it's Steve, Barto- I mean, Clint." Steve said, tripping over the name. Clint didn't say anything else, he just tossed Steve a beer. 

"What section we working tomorrow?" Clint asked, moving out of the kitchen and into the living room of Steve's floor, propping his feet up on the coffee table after he sat down. Steve sighed again; it was obvious he wasn't going anywhere soon. But he followed Clint into the living room, sitting down next to him on the couch. 

"I don't know, Fury usually tells me right before I go."

"That's not very helpful." 

"You're telling me." Steve said with a snort. "But it's not that big a deal, and, I mean, we're getting a lot done. We already cleared up about half the damage."

"What's left?'

"Well, a lot of rubble, but also the actual chitari. We haven't figured out what we're gonna do with all the bodies yet."

"Burn 'em." Was Clint's blunt reply. 

"The smell is awful; it would stink up the whole city."

"Ohhh, is that what that stink was a week ago?" Clint asked, "it ruined my appetite. I had that smell in my mouth for days." 

"Oh, poor you, how will you survive?" Came Steve's sarcastic reply. Clint raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't know you were the sarcastic sort, Cap." 

"Only when I'm off duty." Was all Steve said, before yawning widely. 

“You look like crap.” Clint stood, “I’m gonna get going; I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.” And with a mock salute he walked out of the room and into the elevator.

“Thanks again, Clint.” Steve called after him. Clint raised a hand, acknowledging it, but he didn’t stop walking. 

Steve rubbed his tired eyes and stood slowly, his body aching from the day’s work. “Jarvis, lights.” He called out and the lights on his floor dimmed down to five percent. Steve never had it completely dark on his floor; he hated it. Yawning again, he stumbled back into his room and collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.