Author's Note: This is the beginning of a story that has been running around in my brain ever since The Avengers came out in 2012. Three years later, I finally write it down and work up the nerve to post it. We shall see what becomes of this particular 'verse, but I am fairly sure that it will divulge from MCU cannon in a large number of ways. I'm not quite sure where this story is going to go, but here goes nothing...I hope you enjoy.

The title comes from the song "No Man is an Island," by Tenth Avenue North.

We Can Be Found

Chapter One

September 2012, Five months after the Battle of New York

Somehow, they had all ended up in Stark Tower. (Technically, it was Avenger's Tower now).

Steve still wasn't quite sure exactly how they'd all ended up in the tower. Granted, Tony was persuasive and it wasn't like most of them had any better options, but still.

Fury had been skeptical at first. He'd claimed they would kill each other within a week. Three months after the experiment was begun, he'd conceded that maybe the Avengers could actually handle being around each other in non-combat situations.

Only Thor was not a resident of the Tower. Currently, he was on Asgard doing…whatever it was Asgardians did.

It was interesting living with two spies, a brilliant doctor/occasional rage monster, and the resident genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist.

(And Pepper, of course. Thank God for Pepper).

Still, anything beat being alone. In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, Steve had taken off on his motorcycle to try to see what had become of the country he'd once called home. Much had changed, and he had been prepared for that. Many fundamental things were still the same; he'd been prepared for that as well.

What he hadn't been prepared for was the crushing loneliness that had been his companion.

True, Steve Rogers had once been an outcast. But even as an outcast, he'd had Bucky. Later, he'd had the Commandos, and Howard, and of course Peggy. He'd had people to keep him anchored in the world.

After he'd woken up, he'd been occupied enough with learning everything he could, which kept the loneliness at bay. And of course, before and during the Battle, all his attention had been co-opted.

But on the road, sleeping in a different town every night, he'd had no one, and the loneliness had hit with full force.

In the end, he'd lasted only two months, before accepting Tony's offer to come live in the tower.

A jangling sound lifted Steve out of his dark thoughts. It startled him for a moment, until he remembered his phone, sitting on the table. He picked it up and read the text. It was from Clint.

Cap, get down here! There's pancakes and you knoooow you want them…plus we have that kids charity thing today. Come on!

Steve smiled. An interesting friendship had sprung up between him and Clint Barton in the months he'd been in the Tower. Clint was a mix of goofy and serious that sometimes reminded him of Bucky (though never to take his place. Never.) Still, Clint was a good friend and it was he who had appointed himself Steve's official minder. This basically meant he made sure Steve didn't completely lose his sanity in the confusing minefield of the 21st century.

The archer had claimed at first that it was "for Phil's sake." He kept claiming that, even after Phil Coulson was found to still be alive. Everyone else just rolled their eyes and let them have their "bromance."

Making his way into the elevator, Steve glanced up at the ceiling awkwardly. He was still getting used to Jarvis.

"Uh, Common Room, please, Jarvis." he said.

"Certainly, Captain." the AI responded in his dignified British tones. They always reminded Steve of Peggy (sometimes too much).

The elevator 'pinged' open on the Common Room floor, which consisted of a full-service kitchen and dining area, a hangout room (armed with an enormous TV, a Wii, video game consoles, board games and seemingly every movie in existence), as well as a gym and sparing areas.

Bruce was flipping pancakes at the stove. All of the Avengers could cook; at least if you counted ordering takeout cooking, then Tony could cook. But Bruce was probably the most adept at it.

Clint saw him come off the elevator. "Hey Steve, saved you a plate!" he called out.

Steve sat down at the long wooden dining table and took the proffered plate of flapjacks. "Thanks, Clint." he said. The archer nodded, already digging back into his own food.

Natasha, sitting at the head of the table on Clint's right, gave a fondly exasperated huff. "Slow down." she said, passing the syrup container and butter over to Steve.

Clint complied, stopping long enough to snark, "Yes mother," which prompted an annoyed stream of Russian from Natasha.

Steve shook his head. "Where's Tony?"

"He's still in the lab." Bruce answered, sitting down with his own plate. "He was up later than me; I don't think he actually slept."

"And you did?" Natasha prompted. Bruce nodded.

"I did, as much as I could. Not too bad of nightmares. Besides, me with no sleep around a bunch of kids? Recipe for disaster."

Steve, Clint, and Natasha shared a look that all the Avengers minus Bruce had perfected, a look that said Bruce is selling himself short, again.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm sure you'd have been fine anyway." Steve said. "Still, you're right; it's nice to have sleep for these kinds of things."

Clint grinned. "It is possible to perform on little-to-no sleep, as a former circus brat I can fully attest to that, but sleep is preferable."

"Lies!" came the loud cry of—who else?—Tony Stark, as he tripped out of the elevator. "Sleep is a nuisance that interrupts the creative flow of genius!"

"So says the man who never sleeps." Steve replied.

"I beg to differ, Captain." said Jarvis. "Sir does require sleep, like all humans, regardless of his personal preferences."

Tony gestured towards the ceiling. "See, Cap, I do sleep!"

"Yeah, when Jarvis turns off the power in the lab." said Bruce quietly.

Jarvis had no smart remark for that one.

Stumbling into the kitchen, Tony poured himself a cup of coffee and drained half of it in one gulp. He then looked at the stove…only to see an empty frying pan.

"Bruce!" he whined. "You didn't make any for me?"

Bruce started to get up. Steve put a hand on his arm.

"Tony, there's batter on the counter, you are old enough to make your own breakfast. Besides, you snooze, you lose."

Natasha and Clint were staring at him with something like horror.

"Uh, Steve, remember the last time we let Tony use the stove?" Clint said.

"It was one time!" Tony protested.

"Pepper was kind of mad." Natasha offered, winning the understatement of the year award.

Tony scoffed. "I am not afraid of my girlfriend!"

"Maybe you should be." Pepper Potts stepped through the elevator. "Good morning, everyone!" Everyone tossed out greetings except for Tony, who cast a baleful glance in her direction.

"They didn't leave me pancakes, Pep!"

"Well then, you shouldn't have stayed up in the lab half the night when you knew full well that you had a charity event today!"

"Where exactly are we going again?" Steve asked.

Pepper smiled. "You guys are going to a foster care center. A lot of the kids there lost family in the Battle, but some of them are there for other reasons."

"So…an orphanage?" Steve questioned, trying to relate the old and new concepts in his mind.

"Sort of." Clint muttered. "It's supposed to be different, and it is, I guess. Kids go to the center, but they get fostered by families eventually. Sometimes it works out, and kids get families. Sometimes they get sent back. And sometimes, nobody wants them at all."

Natasha put a gentle hand on Clint's shoulder.

Steve ducked his head. "Sorry I asked."

"No, no, it's okay; you had every right to ask." Clint said firmly. "Just…brought back some bad memories, is all."

Everyone was silent for a moment, until Pepper broke the spell. "Well…I just came to say that we'll leave around noon and you all need to be in costume…except for Bruce, of course."

Bruce smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm gonna try to…avoid my 'costume.' Don't wanna scare the kids."

"Please, have you seen the stores lately?" Tony scoffed. "Hulk costumes are flying off the shelf for Halloween!"

"Yeah, well, I don't think they'd be pleased by the real live Hulk."

"What even are Clint's and my costumes anyway?" Natasha asked. Clint shrugged.

"Black bodysuits, my bow and arrows, your knives and pistol?"

"Boooring!" Tony sing-songed. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Some of us prefer functionality over flash, Stark."

"Hey, the Iron Man suits are perfectly functional…"

Pepper cleared her throat loudly. "I'll leave you all to finish breakfast. I've got to take care of a few things, so I'll see you all at noon."

"You can't stay?" Tony pleaded, trying to pull off puppy-dog eyes. Pepper kissed him on the lips.

"One of us has to run your company." she replied, before disappearing onto the elevator.

Steve sighed. Yup, it was your typical, crazy, Avenger's Tower morning.

He had no idea that today was the day his life changed for good.