AN: . . . Has anything like this been done before? I hope not because if there has, I didn't find it yet :( So I decided to make my own! I always wondered what would happen if the Avengers and Whammy's kids met each other. . . I'd imagine lots of sh-crap and mischief would happen muahahahaha! For all of you Loki-lovers (comme moi) he'll probably end up being in the story. I love him too much to exclude him! ^^ I should be working on my Death NoteXOuran High School etc crossover, but I've wanted to write something for the Avengers for a while now, so here it is! I'm not one of those people who say 'I won't update another chapter unless I get X number of reviews', but I will say for one time only that reviews are very much appreciated, and because this story was an 'on-a-whim' idea, I'll probably need a bit of help concerning plot and things like that, so feel free to give me any ideas you want! Hope you enjoy this chapter, I think it's the longest single chapter I've ever written for any fanfiction, so YAY for that!

Steve Rogers breathed heavily, sweat forming on his forehead as he wearily looked out onto the ravaged battleground that was New York City; more specifically, Central Park. Debris from various crushed buildings littered the ground so heavily that grassy patches were few and far between. Half of the zoo was destroyed; Clint and Natasha were doing their best to control the animals before they hurt anybody. Luckily, nothing seriously dangerous was able to escape from the zoo, and zoo officials had abandoned the migration into the subways to aid Clint and Natasha as they tried to remedy the problem.

The offender's name was Suklos, and he was one of the Chitauri. Steve did not know why or how Suklos was able to get to Earth, but he did, and now he was making a huge mess. When Fury had first contacted them with news of the attacker, Tony seriously thought the Director was joking; it had only been a year since Loki's attack with his Chitauri alien force, but Thor had assured them that he was still in Asgard, and had no way to get back to Earth. Even so, Tony had forced Thor to check with Heimdall again, just to make sure, but the results were the same.

So here the Avengers were. Fighting a giant alien army with General Suklos at its head, and they had no idea what exactly was going on except that Loki was probably not behind it and that these guys were definitely making them run for their money. Surprisingly enough, even Bruce and Thor were beginning to grow tired, and Steve was no exception. They had been fighting straight on for the past six hours or so without a break, and the Chitauri just kept coming. Tony had attempted the same as he did last time, trying to stop the portal from outside the Earth's atmosphere, but the problem was that the hole the portal made was so small that only one Chitauri could enter at a time, and they all came in a row, making it so Tony had no possible way to get out to destroy the portal. At the same time, perhaps the smaller portal size was a good thing, because now there were no flying whale-transformer-seal things to defeat.

"Steve! Come on!" yelled Tony from the side of the helicopter, holding his hand out. Steve hoisted himself in with a groan, feeling the most achy he had ever felt in a long time.

"You okay, buddy?" Tony slapped Steve on the back lightly and Steve nodded, noticing that Tony was also short of breath. Figures, since the suit is probably getting a little hot after fighting so long.

"How are we supposed to stop this?" Steve asked.

"I don't know. With every one we kill, ten more take its place. You'd think they would have emptied out Chitauri-land, or whatever the hell it is, by now."

"How are Bruce and Thor doing?"

"The Hulk's taken a few bad hits, but no matter how mad he gets, there's just too many. Thor seems to be lightning'd out," answered Tony. "Clint's probably going to end up running out of arrows before this is over and Clint NEVER RUNS OUT OF ARROWS." It was clear that even behind the mask, Tony was very close to panicking, and it drove Steve to think about the situation and ways to remedy it.

"I think... if we find out where the portal is coming from, we can probably just try to destroy it from the ground and it'll immediately suck out all of the Chitauri, wouldn't it?"

Tony nodded. "In theory, that's how it would work, but we don't even know where the damn thing is... and even if we did, it's probably impossible to just break. What I want to know is how the hell this thing was even made. There's no place on Earth were somebody could get away with building a portal to summon a huge alien army."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly there was a flash of bright red light that temporarily blinded him for a few moments. There were inhuman screams, not of pain, but of protest, and Steve slowly blinked as his eyesight returned, and found that the surrounding world was swathed in an eerie red light. He looked closer and found that the Chitauri were forcibly being pulled from the ground to the sky, where the minutely small hole was now huge enough to accommodate the aliens inundating through it in waves.

Tony looked at Steve questioningly. "Looks like someone destroyed the portal. But I want to make sure. Stay here, I'll be right back," Tony said before flying out of the helicopter towards the now larger hole. Steve waited as Ironman did his best to annihilate as much of the portal as he could; he didn't have the Tesseract or anything to completely vanquish the portal, but he knew he could do as much damage as possible before he got himself blown up.

Impossibly large numbers of Chitauri were now flying up towards the sky at an even swifter pace, so fast that the pilot of the helicopter was not able to get out of the way in time for a small group of the aliens to collide with the aircraft. Steve bit back a shriek as their claws and teeth and generally sharp scales ripped through his arms and torso, causing painfully deep cuts to form as he fell from the helicopter, immobilized, partially by pain and partially by the trees and stray Chitauri bodies hurtling up towards him.

After what seemed like forever, Steve finally hit the ground, hard, deeper in the woods than he would have anticipated, his shield falling from his hand a few feet away. Steve hadn't felt pain like the kind he felt right now in so long, it was almost sweet. As much as he willed his body to move, it just wouldn't budge, to his dismay. He knew that with his serum-enhanced body, it would take him only a short while to recover, provided that he survived that long this deep in the woods.

And it seemed as though fate didn't want to be kind to him today, he thought, as he noted the glowing, feral eyes of the canines that had appeared and begun to circle around him, their mouths dripping with saliva. Steve felt the panic, but his body didn't seem to feel the same, because it didn't move and Steve could feel himself slipping into the realms of unconsciousness.

The last thing he saw was one of the beasts lunging for his throat.

"CAPTAIN OF AMERICA!" Thor's booming voice yelled, the volume so substantial that it could probably be heard in Switzerland.

"Spangles!" Tony yelled, followed by a chorus of 'Steve's and 'Captain's from the rest of the team, including several employees of S.H.I.E.L.D., who were also in the helicopter, the same one Steve had fell from.

After Steve's accident, the helicopter had swerved off course, so the team had no way of finding out where exactly Steve had slipped.

"Maybe he just went to help with the zoo or to tell the people underground that it's safe to come back out," Natasha said, hoping fervently that they were making a big deal out of nothing, and that Steve was actually good and well.

"Yeah," Clint agreed. "You know how much the Captain likes animals. He probably went to converse with the bear cubs or zebras or whatever. Or he's trying to get back to us, but is smothered by an onslaught of children wanting his autographs and pictures and stuff."

Tony wasn't appeased. He turned to the pilot again. "Are you sure that you didn't see where he went?"

The pilot nodded for the umpteenth time. "I'm sure, Mr. Stark."

Tony sighed and put his head in his metal-clad hands.

"Hey, don't worry about him," Clint said, patting Tony's shoulder. "Knowing him, he's probably already back at Avengers tower waiting to scold us for being late and waking up half of New York."

Natasha smiled and Tony forced one on his face. His friends were probably right... but he still got the feeling that something was wrong with Steve.

Wild growls had woken Light out of his reverie. He was sitting on the bank of a stream, deep in the woods, enjoying the chilly afternoon air, unaware of the alien battle that had just been waged in the city. It was his favorite place to be when he was alone, and he amused himself by creating pastel drawings of the nature around him. Usually, he hated to feel little, but when faced with the mighty power of nature, Light didn't mind being unimportant and insignificant once in a while.

Once he heard the telltale noises of coyotes waiting to attack their next meal, he had scrambled up and immediately ran to the source of the noise. He figured that they were just attacking some deer, and if they were, he wouldn't interfere. Such was the circle of life, anyway.

But when Light ascended the slope and saw the unkempt animals, he held back a gasp as he saw what they were attacking: an unconscious man! Light hurried down the slope and made a lot of noise, startling the coyotes, and distracting them from their original prey as they turned to him.

Once the coyotes deduced that he was not a threat, they growled and started to slink towards him, sharp teeth bared. Light stepped back a couple of steps, finally realizing that he couldn't fight off a pack of five of these animals, and once they had their fill of him, they would just turn back to the unconscious man.

The best Light could do was get them as far away from the man as he could, so once they were done attacking Light, they would have long forgotten about him. So Light ran, as fast as he could. He heard the leader give out a yelp and then the thundering of twenty paws unceremoniously hitting the foliage of the ground. Light had spent ample time in these woods, and knew his way around well enough to not get tripped up by a surprising stick or hole.

The coyotes began to run up ahead of Light to try and block him in a circle of them, so Light took a desperate turn, dismayed to see that he had gained very little ground and that they had almost caught up with him. His turn took him into unfamiliar territory, and Light knew that it would only be a matter of seconds before the coyotes caught him and he would be their food. He was breathing harshly already and the glycogen made lactic acid as a byproduct and the chemical began running through his muscles, making them burn.

Light fought back a yelp and ran backwards a few steps as a deep chasm with running water and sharp rocks loomed up before him. He was able to catch himself before falling over the edge, but, unfortunately, the coyotes were not able to accomplish the same feat. All five of the canines ran over the edge, and they whimpered as they realized their mistake and impending death. Light was gasping and he fell to his hands and knees on the ground, looking away from the chasm as the five bodies hit the sharp rocks below.

After a few moments of rest Light stood up shakily and began to walk back the way he came. He cursed his physically weak body; he was much too thin, just skin and bones, partially because he never had a reason to exercise much, being alone a lot, and partially because he skipped too many meals to be healthy. He sped up his pace, in case the man was attacked again.

Finally, Light made it back into the clearing where the man was, who was still unconscious. Now that he wasn't being attacked by coyotes, Light was able to get a good look at him. He was bleeding from excessive scratches, but they seemed to be older than the scratches around the man's neck, the ones from the coyotes. Light ran over and took off his jacket, not caring about the chill, and wrapped it around the man's neck to try and slow the bleeding.

Light noticed that the man was wearing all red, white and blue, sort of like the American flag, and a shield was laying a few feet away from him with the same colors adorning it. Light felt a pang of recognition, as if he should definitely know this man from somewhere, but he was too tired to put much thought to it. He tried to pick the man up, which was hard because Light wasn't strong and the man was heavier than an average textbook.

He half-carried, half-dragged the man through the woods, away from the bustling-and ruined- New York City, and to the outskirts of the city, to a neighborhood that wasn't particularly acclaimed for its cleanliness and polite inhabitants.

It took a good forty-five minutes to get back to the institution, because Light got tired easily and had to take a couple of breaks, and it seemed as though the man got heavier with each step. Nevertheless, Light made it back to his 'home', if that was really what it was referred to as. He looked up at the sign over the front door of the plain, but ostentatiously large building: Whammy's House.

Steve let out a groan as his eyes cracked open. The light was blinding, and he had to immediately close them again, not expecting the brightness. After blinking a few times to get accustomed to the light, he looked around at his surroundings. He was lying on a beige couch that looked cheap but was really comfortable. The room was not very fancy; it was large and had a warm homey brown color that made it seem incredibly mature and warm. The couch was to the south wall, and the door was on the wall adjacent to the left of Steve, such that he could only make out the doorknob and perhaps a quarter of the door itself. A plain twin-sized bed with mahogany bedspread was in the far corner away from Steve, and a desk was in the corner opposite to the bed. A large bookshelf with various tomes was placed on the wall across from the couch, and the hard wood floor had a large brown and cream rug in the center. There was a closet door and a window. All in all, it was a very comforting room to wake up in, despite the harsh artificial light from the ceiling fan above him.

Steve looked down at himself, inspecting his injuries, glad that his body would move again, even though it ached. The deep cuts in his arms and torso that were caused by the Chitauri were already healing; they had reduced to angry red gashes that had stopped bleeding. He noticed a plain brown jacket wrapped around his throat and he pulled it off, wincing at the fabric threads pulling at the sticky blood that remained there. The jacket was bloodstained, and Steve was surprised that he had bled this much... he didn't even know where the scratches on his throat had come from...

Oh, right. The coyotes.

Why wasn't he dead? The canines had looked positively ravenous just as he passed out. He figured out that whoever had brought him to this room was the one that saved him from the animals. Now, if only that fellow would show himself so he could give thanks and stop intruding on his hospitality...

As if on cue, the door opened and Steve jumped, blinking as a scrawny boy stepped inside of the room. Steve tried to sit up, looking at the boy in curiosity. He couldn't have been much older than fourteen or so. He was dressed in slacks and a casual grey shirt that hung loosely off of his thin frame, and he was holding a first aid kit in long, piano-player fingers. His hair was honey-brown and hung to his chin, and his almond-shaped auburn eyes widened as he rushed over to gently push Steve back down on the couch.

"Stay, you are hurt," he commanded softly, looking at Steve seriously. Steve could detect the faint Oriental accent-Chinese, or maybe Japanese?-laced in the contours of his speech, but Steve could also tell, without a doubt, that English was this boy's first language.

Steve watched without a sound as the boy cleaned his wounds and began wrapping gauze bandage around his arms and his neck. Steve winced as he worked on his throat, the scratches still raw, but concentrated instead on the boy's slightly shaking fingers, his skin tanned but also possessing a strange ashen quality to them that only told Steve that his savior wasn't as healthy as he should be.

"What is your name? And where am I?" Steve asked quietly, looking up into the boy's eyes. "I'm Steve Rogers."

A flash of recognition flitted across the boy's eyes before he answered. "My name is Light. And you are at Whammy's House."

PS: I made Light a Whammy's boy because: 1. I love that idea, and I've got some ideas concerning him... muahaha... and 2. I think he'd fit in pretty well at Whammy's, and 3. I LOVE LIGHT! A lot of people say he's a fop and a douche-bag and stuff, and I respect their opinions, because I like L too. But Light is still my favorite, second to none but Beyond Birthday *winkwink* I guess I just love all the villains, huh? First Light, then BB, and then Loki. I LOVE LOKI. Okay, I'll stop rambling, hoped you like the idea so far!