Avengers Preferences

One Shot: Brusies

One Shot 3

She and Steve were traditionally married in a lovely little chapel with all of their friends and family there to bare witness.

A few years later she became pregnant, and although the thought of actually giving birth was frightening, she made it through. Delivering a beautiful little boy, named James Nathan Rogers. (Named for one of his uncles and one of his aunts)

The little boy grew up in his parents house, loved and adored by them and all of his wild aunts and uncles. But. He was a bit small. Not nearly as small as his father was at his age, but still small.

In his heart, James was no different from his father. Always offering to help his mother. Constantly trying to prove himself. Often getting into bloody fist fights in school.

One afternoon, James pushed the door open to the mudroom and took off his shoes.

"Honey, is that you?" His mother called.

"Yes Mama, I'm home," he replied, taking off his jacket and using it to hide the bleeding cuts and ugly bruises on his arms and face. He tried to make it up stairs before his mother could catch him. But he was not quick enough.

"Jim?" His mother said from the foot of the stairs, looking up at her son. He squeezed his eyes shut, even though it hurt. He couldn't lie to his mom... So he slowly turned around.

His mother gasped when she saw his face. Her eyes welled with tears. "My baby..." She whispered.

James slowly descended the stairs. And looked into his mothers eyes. She couldn't speak... This was the third time this month he came home this way.

"Mom I-"

The front door opened, and Steve's voice rung through the house, "Honey! I'm home,"

She didn't move to look at her husband, only raised her hand to her son to touch his cheek.

The same sweet cheek she stroked when he was still a tiny baby. What had become of her precious angel. Why had the world done this to him.

Steve entered the room and took in the sight of his beaten son, and crying wife. Steve shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Jim please tell me you didn't fight then again." His father said.

"I had to," James answered honestly.

"But why baby, why? Why did they have to-"

This had become to much for his poor mother. She couldn't stand seeing him coming home all beaten up like this.

"They were harassing Kelly, and wouldn't let up," he replied. Kelly is his "cousin". His Aunt Natasha, and Uncle Clint's daughter.

"Did they hurt Kelly?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Then I got mad. Kelly told me that she wanted to stick up for herself and tell em' off but things got too bad it would be okay for me to help. I stepped in too late. They'd already gotten in a few good hits,"

"Oh no..." His mother sobbed now thinking of her poor "niece" getting roughed up too. Steve wrapped his arms around her.

"I walked Kelly home. Uncle Clint got her at the door, I think he's mad at me. But it didn't seem to be the right time to talk to him at that moment," Jim explained.

Steve sighed deeply. "Jim... I... I don't know what to do with you. You're getting into fights, for all the right reasons that I can't be mad at you about. But... We can't have you getting beaten up like this all the time. One of these days you're gonna get hurt real bad... Like real real bad,"

"I know..." Home admitted guiltily.

"I don't think your mother would be able to go on if that happened," Steve said, stroking his wife's hair.

"Dad what am I suppose to do? Just let them be disrespectful!"

"Absolutely not. But there's gotta be some other way to handle this,"

"Then help me. Help me fight them without me making mom cry,"

"I'll do what I can son... But in the meantime I think I'd better call Uncle Clint and make sure he knows the situation,"

"That would be good" Jim agreed.

"Why, why don't I help you clean up your busted lip sweet heart," his mother offered.

"Thanks Mom," he said, and allowed her to lead him up the stairs.