Thor hammered their brokered friendship's boundaries out with a surprising attention to detail. Tony wasn't certain what he'd expected when Thor had first revealed his intentions, but it wasn't this. Thor covered everything, from touch to conversation to spending time together.

Apparently it was customary on Asgard to put that amount of attention into friendships. Seeing as Asgardian relationships could last centuries, Tony guessed they wanted to make sure they started off right. Unfortunately, the knowledge failed to make the conversation any less awkward.

"Tony," Thor said at one point, the nickname seeming strange on his lips, "what are your thoughts on touch?"

"My thoughts. On touch."

"Indeed."

Tony couldn't remember ever being asked that before. He stared at Thor, nonplussed.

"You've seemed averse to it whenever I touched you before," Thor noted. "I will respect your boundaries if you wish me to, Tony. However, I will be able to tell if you're lying."

Tony curled up a little farther into the arm of the couch. "I'm not a fan. Overrated, if you ask me."

Thor looked at him.

"Fine! Fine. Actually, let's switch this up a bit. How are you with touch?" Tony challenged.

"It pleases me greatly to share contact with those I love," Thor said, straight-faced. "But, I am learning that not all are as I am. That is one thing Midgard has taught me."

Those he- Tony closed his eyes and breathed out. "You can...touch me, I guess. If you want. Just not- no hugs, alright?"

"Very well," Thor said, and moved on.

Twenty uncomfortable minutes in, JARVIS informed them Steve was finished making dinner.

Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd stood up that quickly. As it was, the ride up to the kitchen was tortuous. He bounced on his feet, fingers drumming nonsensical rhythms on his thighs.

Part of the way up, a hand settled onto his shoulder. Tony jerked. He skittered backwards and looked up. Thor was gazing at him, mouth pinched in concern.

"You seemed nervous," Thor explained, voice soft. "I thought that would help. Didn't you say you were agreeable to being touched?"

Tony considered everything for a lightning-fast instant as though he were solving an equation. How would Thor react if he said X, versus if he said Y, versus if he said Z. How would this affect his future interactions with Thor. And how would Tony feel based on each solution?

He decided with a mental shrug to put in the truth for X and solve.

"I'm not used to being touched."

As soon as Thor's face shifted, Tony regretted his words. Wrong value for X. There's where the equation fell apart - and unlike in math, reality didn't get do-overs.

"What? The Lady Widow informed me that you have a lover. Was this false?"

Tony winced. "Pepper and I...aren't seeing each other right now. She's busy with SI. I'm busy in the workshop. Hard to meet up. Anyway, Pep's not really a touchy-feely girl, you know? Unless you count being slapped."

"Violence does not count," Thor said disapprovingly. "That should be reserved for one's enemies only."

Tony wondered why this elevator ride was taking so long. "Totally agree with you," he said to placate Thor.

Thor didn't look placated. "Answer me truthfully, Tony. Are you permissible to being touched?"

"Sure," Tony said, after a split-second's calculation.

After all, it was clear that Thor was extremely tactile. He'd be unhappy if Tony forbade him from touching him, and with 4/16/96 hanging over him, Tony couldn't risk that. He'd told Thor no hugs, so hopefully he'd get the idea and know not to get too close. Tony could put up with a few casual shoulder-pats here and there.

Thor squinted at him. He didn't look like he believed Tony. "Were this a few years earlier," he rumbled, "I would let it go at that. But after Loki..."

His eyes dropped.

Tony felt a twinge of empathy in his gut. After Stane, he'd found it difficult to believe people, too. He'd become paranoid that everyone was lying to him like Stane had.

Which was why Thor's actions had upset him so much.

He took a breath to steady himself and felt his ribs protest. Thor's earlier hugging assault had crushed his ribs once more, and the ache was just now receding. He briefly wondered if Thor knew he was injured. Probably not; he'd left right after the battle ended. He'd only been at one interview, and that was when he'd gotten back three days ago.

Plus, Tony suspected that Thor forgot how long humans took to heal. He often forgot to control his strength around them. He apologized profusely every time, so Tony didn't think it was purposeful. Honestly, although Tony hated to admit it, Thor wasn't at all malicious. He was actually quite sweet. Just...thoughtless.

As Tony's current situation could attest to.

"Like I said, I'm not used to it. But it's fine, just don't surprise me like that. And don't-" Tony broke off, wincing. He glared at the ceiling. Surely the elevator should've gotten to the kitchen by now?

"Don't do what?"

"Nothing."

Thor graced him with a long look. Tony released a sigh. "Don't go to touch me with your palms up. It's...it looks like you're trying to hand me something."

Thor nodded. With uncharacteristic hesitance he reached out his arm, palm down, until it was inches from Tony's shoulder. He met Tony's eyes inquisitively. Tony nodded and forced himself not to flinch as Thor's hand made contact with his shoulder. Thor squeezed his shoulder briefly - strong enough Tony was grateful it wasn't his left shoulder - and let go.

"I thank you for sharing this with me," Thor told him. "Please, do not hesitate to speak thus again."

"Uh-huh," Tony said dumbly. "Sure thing."

At that instant, the elevator door slid open with a cheery ding. Finally, Tony thought as the two stepped out side-by-side. I was beginning to think...

He paused, not physically but mentally, and looked up at one of JARVIS's cameras. They'd walked into the kitchen now, and Tony could hear the general commotion that seemed ever-present with the Avengers.

Had JARVIS delayed opening the doors on purpose?

Given previous data, it wasn't illogical to presume. JARVIS had been pushing, both subtly and not, for Tony to socialize with the Avengers since the beginning. He'd allowed Steve up into Tony's penthouse so they could make up. He'd continually supported Tony whenever he'd been uncertain about speaking with the Avengers. He'd convinced Tony to let Bruce, Steve, and Barton into his workshop.

Tony's lips tightened. Yes, he was now certain JARVIS had kept Tony and Thor in that elevator until their conversation finished. He decided he'd figure out what to do about that later. In the meantime, Steve's burgers smelled great and Tony actually wanted one. It was the first time he'd wanted to eat since New York.

"Look who the cat dragged in," Barton greeted, waving a burger in Tony and Thor's general direction. He was sitting on the back of the sofa, thirty feet away. "The tin can and a god from outer space!"

Tony scoffed. "Maybe it's just me, but that seemed a little biased."

"Fret not, Man of Iron!" Thor said. "We shall still be friends, at least unt-"

"Good to know," Tony interrupted loudly. "Always nice to know where you stand with someone, as I always say."

"I've literally never heard you say that," Barton said, deadpan.

"And now you have! Aren't you lucky." Tony glanced subtly around for Romanoff, hoping she hadn't heard what Thor'd been about to reveal. He wasn't sure he could take the humiliation if she found out.

Sure enough, Romanoff was standing next to Steve at the stove. She seemed focused on cleaning the stove-top, but Tony knew better. She would've heard every word. He went cold.

"Tony!" Steve said, turning around. He didn't look pleased to see Tony, per se, but he didn't look annoyed either. "Nice to see you and Thor finally showed up. All the food's on the counter, you can help yourself."

The cold sank further into Tony. Steve had implied Thor and Tony had been off doing something together. Combined with Thor's previous comment, there's no way Romanoff hadn't latched onto the oddity.

He stepped towards the island anyway, falling behind the more eager Thor. "I was planning on it," he said dryly, "seeing as I do own this place."

Steve huffed. He looked like he was about to fire back a retort, but bit it down - Tony guessed he didn't want to start another fight. He just turned back around and continued to clean his pan.

Thor went to sit on the couch next to Barton, greeting him with his usual boisterousness. Tony loaded his plate and set it down at the table next to Bruce, who was possibly the only normal person in the entire room.

Bruce looked over and smiled at Tony in greeting. He swallowed down a mouthful of salad and asked Tony how his day had been.

"I saw you for over half of it, so pretty good," Tony said without thinking twice. Then he swore internally. That was the sort of thing he'd tell Rhodey. Bruce was most definitely not Rhodey. "I mean...I wouldn't have figured out that equation nearly as fast without your input. I would've been slaving over that thing until midnight."

That wasn't true. Bruce had helped, but Tony would still have figured it out relatively quickly. Tony wasn't as used to chemical equations as Bruce was, but that didn't mean he was incompetent.

Bruce either didn't pick up on the slip or was polite enough to let it slide. "Yeah, that was pretty complicated. I haven't had an interesting project like that in months, maybe even years. I haven't had the time."

Tony huffed a quiet laugh and took a bite of food. "I've had too much."

Bruce's eyes focused on him in a way that made Tony uncomfortable, but he said nothing. The two of them ate for a minute or so in silence, then Romanoff appeared across the table from them.

Bruce must've noticed her the same time Tony did, because he stiffened and almost jerked in surprise. "Natasha."

She hummed and ate a strawberry - where she'd gotten one, Tony had no idea. "Grey's Anatomy is shit."

Tony leaned back, eyes narrowed in confusion. What?

It was Bruce who seemed cautiously amused. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd like it. I think House is better, personally."

Romanoff frowned. "That's like comparing Tony's lasagna to a slice of pineapple pizza."

"Hey!" Tony interjected. "How dare you compare my masterpiece to pineapple pizza."

Bruce looked between them, perplexed. "Is Tony a bad cook?"

"Terrible."

"No!"

Tony glared at Romanoff for a few seconds. She looked back at him expressionlessly. "If you were such a good cook, why didn't you cook dinner instead of Steve?"

Oh, so that's where she was going with this. He'd genuinely wondered if she were going to let Thor's comment go. "The mood didn't strike me, I suppose."

"What mood were you in, then? A friendly one?"

Tony looked over at Bruce, back to Romanoff, and fought back a frown. What she'd just said to Bruce...hadn't Bruce told him that morning that he hadn't spoken to any of the Avengers at length? Whatever conversation they'd just referenced, they must've had that afternoon. Which meant Romanoff knew he hadn't been with Bruce the whole day.

"I fail to see how that's your business, Romanoff," Tony said lightly, looking her straight in the eye.

Romanoff leaned back. "I thought it was all friends' businesses to know such things."

What was it with the Avengers and trying to trap him into friendship? Tony really hoped he wasn't alone in this. At least they should be trying it on Bruce, too.

"Stop it, Natasha," Bruce said tiredly. "Once was enough."

So she had tried it on Bruce. Tony was wearily triumphant.

"I have no idea what you mean," Romanoff said, but she speared a berry with her fork. Tony and Bruce, content to let the subject drop, remained silent.

The rest of the meal passed in silence interspersed with Tony's remarks - he couldn't keep quiet, even with the vague threat of the Black Widow across from him. The three of them cleaned the dishes together. Bruce put away the leftovers (for there to even be leftovers, Tony wondered just how much food Steve had made) and Romanoff and Tony loaded the dishwasher.

The other three - Steve, Barton, and Thor - had already put their dishes up. Tony felt their eyes on him as he, Romanoff, and Bruce finished.

"Hey Tony," Barton called. "You have Netflix, right?"

"What kind of billionaire do you take me for? Of course I have Netflix."

Barton nodded as though that made sense. "Did you know that Thor and Steve have like, never seen an actual movie?"

"I'm disappointed but not surprised," Tony said. "Let me guess, Feathers, you're taking it on yourself to educate them?"

"Got it in one. I'm thinking we should start with Disney. Whaddya say?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "I would've started with Inception, but to each his own."

Barton rolled his eyes. "I wasn't asking about the movie choice, idiot. Clearly I'm the only one with taste in here. Are you going to watch it with us or not?"

"What, are you only asking Tony?" Romanoff interjected.

"I already know it's pointless to ask you anything," Barton scoffed. "And Bruce, you're welcome too. Actually, you'd probably be more fun than Mr. Inception over there."

Tony huffed and held a hand to his heart. "Excuse me? Inception is a work of art and I will not sit here and let you insult it. I'm out."

Inception had been Jarvis' favorite movie. Tony'd always had a soft spot for it. He genuinely liked it, and its defense served a convenient excuse to escape Avengers movie night.

"Fine, be that way," Barton said, turning away. "Have fun doing whatever it is you normally do."

Tony turned. "I will, thanks."

He pretended not to see Bruce's look as he walked out.

It was exactly 4:38 in the morning when the Avengers alarm blared.

How did Tony know this? Because he'd been up the entire night and just asked JARVIS the time mere seconds before.

"Hah, take that, JARVIS," Tony told the nearest camera, straightening from his worktable and tromping over to Mark VIII - not quite finished, but VII was completely destroyed and VI was awful. "You still going to suggest I go to bed?"

There was a heavy, mechanical sigh. "Yes, sir. May I remind you that you are severely injured and should not be standing, let alone fighting?"

"You may, but I'm disregarding it. Engage suit."

It took longer and far more teeth gritting than usual to suit up, but Tony was ready and stepping onto the launch pad before six minutes had elapsed. Unsurprisingly, Steve was already there, as was Thor. Romanoff strode into view a few seconds later, with a case of bedhead Tony dearly wanted to decimate her with. The glare she sent his way kept him quiet.

"Tony, are you sure you should be fighting?" Steve asked him, stepping towards him. His face was tight. "You, uh...did a number on yourself not even two weeks ago. It's perfectly understandable if you want to sit this one out."

Tony bridled. "I'm not weak," he spat. "I'm capable of fighting just as well as you. Just cause I'm not Captain America doesn't mean I can't-"

"Chill out, will you?" cut in a new voice. Barton, wearing Hawkeye pajamas. "How come every time I see you two, you're fighting?"

"Honestly," Romanoff said, smoothing her hair. "If you're going to kiss, just do it already."

Steve grimaced, looking ready to defend himself.

Tony just rolled his eyes, not deigning to give that an answer. "I'm fighting and that's final. Unless someone's going to remove me from my position as consultant?"

"Tony, will you stop-" Steve started, but Bruce stepped up right then and Steve let whatever he was going to say die. "Right. Everyone's here now so let's begin. Some of the left-behind Chitauri technology has started affecting the plants and animals around the battle-zone. SHIELD's working on removing the technology now, but it seems like the affected creatures are getting out of control."

"So we're going to bash up some plants?" Tony asked.

Steve sighed. "Basically. The report also said animals, so I'm thinking maybe some pigeons or squirrels. Anything affected has gone berserk. Think bigger, more aggressive. The situation hasn't devolved too badly yet, so we won't bring you in, Bruce, unless it gets worse."

Bruce nodded, knuckles white.

"Hawkeye-"

"What, I'm Hawkeye now?"

"It's called a mission, idiot," Romanoff said. "We go by code-names in them. Have you forgotten every past mission with SHIELD ever?"

"I thought Stevie would make an exception. I thought he loved me."

Steve looked at Barton blankly for a moment as though he had no idea how to respond to that. Tony toyed with the idea of telling Barton he loved him, before deciding that was too close to something he'd say to Rhodey.

"Right. Moving on. Thor, Widow, and I will be the main attack force. Hawkeye, you'll support us from the rooftops, picking off anything we miss. Iron Man, aerial surveillance."

Surveillance? Rogers was practically preventing him from fighting at all. "I just said-"

"Those are my orders, Iron Man." Captain America turned to face him fully. Even in the suit, Tony felt small compared to him. "Are you going to disobey direct orders?"

Through great effort, Tony kept silent. Pushing Captain America too far would only end badly, possibly with his tenuous position on the team forfeited. He shook his head, grateful that he'd already closed his suit's visor.

"Good. To the Quinjet, everyone."

The Avengers pressed forward as one to the plane. Tony hated their unity. He took to the air instead.

As tight as it was, every movement in his suit was agony for Tony. His ribs throbbed unrelentingly with every shallow breath. A sharp ache was building in his head.

"Iron Man, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Tony answered Captain America shortly. "Aerial surveillance. Getting started early."

The Quinjet lifted off a few seconds later and Tony followed. He swooped around the plane as economically as possible, scanning the streets below for any sign of trouble. The first few streets were relatively quiet - for New York City, anyway - but as the seconds ticked by, Tony began to hear the commotion.

The jet landed on a broad, flat rooftop that somehow managed to support its weight. The Avengers, sans Bruce, leaped out and all but Barton descended to the street below, weapons ready. They landed on the outskirts of the noise Tony had heard.

Tony flew forward. A few people were running towards him, one screaming. Behind them was a cluster of what Tony assumed had been potted plants. They certainly weren't potted anymore.

The Chitauri-influenced plants were indeed bigger, just like Captain America had warned. What had once been a mere few inches had now elongated to feet. There was a stomping, seven-foot cactus, several crawling succulents, and a varied assortment of ferns and flowered plants Tony couldn't identify.

"Found them," Tony said into his comm. "A cactus, some succulents, and some other friends headed your way. They're big, but don't look like they'll be that hard to deal with."

Right as he said that, a middle-aged man ran past the plants. A huge, thorny vine grew from one of the succulents and hit him. He hurtled backwards with a cry.

Tony cursed. "Take that back. Apparently they can grow the equivalent of a thorny sword and stab people with it. They attacked a civilian; I'm going in."

"Iron Man, what did I say about surveillance?" Captain America barked. Tony looked back and saw him, Romanoff, and Thor running towards the scene.

"A civilian's dying," Tony said. "I'm not going to sit here and watch that happen!"

He'd already begun his descent as he'd said that. The extra-aggressive succulent's thorny appendage had reared back for another blow. The man it'd hit crawled back frantically, his leg bleeding and mangled.

The vine sliced towards the man. Tony darted in.

One propulsor blast cut the vine in two. Tony grabbed the man around the middle, heaved him up, and soared away. As he flew he heard the three Avengers engage with the plants.

Tony set the man down a block away. When he drew back his hands were covered in blood from the man's leg wound and his ribs were sharp pricks of steel in his chest.

"Alright," Tony said. His comm was blaring constant updates from the Avengers. "Here's what you're gonna do. Call 911, get that leg fixed, and for the love of God don't get yourself mixed up in another one of these things. Got it?"

The man nodded mutely, probably shell-shocked. Tony nodded back, gave him a thumbs up, and took off.

"Civilian's safe," Tony said into the comm. His eyes flicked over the world below him. Romanoff and Cap were tag-teamed on the cactus. The rest of the plants were dismembered and motionless. Thor was nowhere in sight. "Status update?"

"The first group of plants is almost down," Romanoff responded. "Thor found a loner. Hawkeye's evacuating civilians."

"Do we have any idea the scale of this thing?" Tony asked. He flew lower over the rooftops, searching for Thor and Barton. A few more groups of plants caught his eye, but none of them had found any civilians yet. "There's- AGH!"

His chest went white-hot. His hands seized, stopped holding him up. He started to fall from the sky. JARVIS's emergency protocol kicked in as he fell, stopping him merely a foot away from a roof. He landed heavily, arms clutched around his ribs. What the fuck had that been?

"Iron Man? What's going on?" Cap asked.

"N-nothing," Tony gasped out, trying to regain himself. "I'm fine. Something hit me. Looks like our pals might have some sort of Mother Nature-sponsored missile."

"Iron Man, I'm going to suggest-"

"Shut it," Tony said, mostly because JARVIS was saying the same thing. "I think I found the culprit. Venus flytrap, anyone?"

When he looked down, his armor had a slight dent in it just about the size of one of the plant in question's vicious spikes. The alien tech had probably given it the ability to throw them. He grimaced.

"We're on our way," Romanoff said. "Hawkeye, what's going on over there?"

"Evacuated all the civilians I could find," came the response. Barton was breathing hard. "Got ambushed by a couple of these things, though. Might need some backup. They're, uh, resistant to my arrows."

Tony made a note of that. "I'm coming, Birdy. Where are you?"

Barton told him. Tony pushed off and started over there. He limped, if it were possible to limp while flying, all the way there. He'd bit his tongue at some point and now his mouth was filled with blood.

Thor's voice came over the comm: "I have completed surveillance. It appears that this battle is as small as we originally thought. There are a few enlarged beasts near me, and several groups of plants. That's all. We should be finished soon."

"We still have cleanup, though," Romanoff said morosely.

"Can't we just leave it to SHIELD?" Barton said. He grunted. "Seeing as it's kinda their fault this happened in the first place?"

"I, for one, am all for that," Tony said. "Hawkeye, I'm coming in."

"Thank God," Barton said fervidly.

Tony surveyed the situation as he flew down. Barton was down on the street, surrounded by an unhappy orange tree, a malicious mint plant, and some sort of large, flowered and furious third plant. He was favoring one leg. Tony remembered he'd been treated for an ankle sprain as well as a concussion after the Battle of New York. Tony wasn't the only one going into this fight injured.

Although, considering Barton's current condition, maybe it hadn't been a good idea for him, either.

Tony dropped from the sky. He cleanly severed the orange tree in two on his way down. Three more well-placed blasts and the tree was motionless, leaves strewn across the pavement.

As his feet hit the ground, a shock went through his whole body and he convulsed. He gagged, fighting down vomit.

A minty arm charged towards him. He ducked, sending one arm out to throw himself sideways. The second landing sent another pulse of agony through him and his vision darkened for a second.

Dammit, he thought, blinking rapidly as the mint plant darted to him again. Just a little longer...

"JARVIS, engage auto-pilot," he muttered.

His arms shot out of their own accord and fired a blast that threw mint leaves everywhere. His body left the ground. The flowered plant's vines slammed into the sidewalk where he'd been. Another propulsor blast cleaved the tips of the vines off. Their remnants smoldered on the asphalt.

The flowered vines swung at him again. An arrow sunk into one of them and it flailed wildly in some plant-based agony. The suit flew backwards, turned a neat back-flip, and landed. Tony dry-heaved even as his hands fired another blast at the mint plant.

The propulsor blast decapitated it, spraying leaves and sap everywhere. Three more arrows sank into the flowered plant, and with one final beam from Tony, it blew apart as well.

Tony went over to Barton, who was struggling to stand. From the comm, the Avengers all said the same thing: they'd finished their part of the fight. It was over.

"You don't look too hot," Tony remarked, offering a hand to Barton.

"I'm extremely sexy, thank you very much," Barton scoffed, taking the proffered arm like a lifeline. Too late, Tony realized he'd given Barton his left arm, not his right, and fought back a cry of pain.

"O-on second th-th-thoughts, how about we do the...o-other arm," Tony gritted out, grabbing Barton with it and dislodging the man's grip on Tony's left arm. "It's too pretty for you."

"I take offense," Barton said. Tony wrapped his arm securely around the man, and he grabbed Tony's neck, clinging to him like a koala. Tony couldn't quite hide his grunt as he took to the sky.

"Dude, you okay?"

"Not you too," Tony complained. "Here I thought you were cool."

"I'm very cool. Cool enough to know that Steve wasn't talking out of his ass when he asked if you were okay to fight today."

"I'm not weak. I might not be some enhanced super-soldier like him, but I can damn well fight," Tony said. He tried to snap it, to sound angry, but he had to pause to gag partway through when Barton shifted and Tony's ribs twisted. Ribs weren't supposed to move like that.

Barton was quiet for long enough Tony thought he wouldn't answer. He finally said, quietly, "I dunno what Howard made you believe, but damn, don't compare yourself to Captain America. Not even Steve compares to that."

"Shut your pie-hole," Tony said, gentler than he'd meant. "You're probably still concussed from last week. You don't know what you're saying."

Barton hummed, letting that go.

They were within sight of the Quinjet when Barton spoke again. His words were so quiet Tony strained to hear them over the wind, and slurred enough he struggled to decipher them. "Yer full o' shiiit, by the way. Yer jus' as muh part o' the team 's any of us."

"What?" Tony had no idea where that had come from. He was beginning to put more credence on his 'concussed Barton' theory.

Barton nodded to himself. "Don' forget 't. Mkay?"

Tony landed next to the jet and carefully unloaded Barton from his koala position. "Whatever you say, Birdbrain. Let's get you into medical."

He would deny for the rest of his days, 4/16/96 tapes and all, that he'd said those words affectionately. And he would go back to the wormhole twice over before he'd ever admit to carrying Clint into the Quinjet himself.

A/N: Up next: Tony faces the music for his genius decision of going into battle while injured. Who will lecture him? Will it be Bruce? Steve? Thor? A combination of all three? Stay tuned to find out!