I should be working on the sequel for Eyes of Icarus. I really should. But this wouldn't leave me alone, for love, money or cookies. So that's my excuse for this maybe not unneeded crossover we have here.

Pairings is SuperHusbands with side Natasha/Bruce, Raleigh/Mako, and Clint/Laura. Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognized characters, or anything else under copyright. I'm not making any money off of this. I don't own the cover image either, I found it on Google Images.

Chapter One: A Brave New World

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."

― Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

When they got sent through the stupid portal, Steve thought he should have expected something like this. Well, maybe not exactly. Who would have been able to prepare themselves to fight Godzilla in an alternate universe?

So when he was tossed to a street in the middle of an attack by a giant monster, Steve was sure no one would blame him for his language. "Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself.

It said something that no one called him out on it. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Hawkeye asked through miraculously working comms.

"It's not Shakespeare in the Park," Tony replied, sounding almost impressed, "Usually Godzilla is the good guy though…"

"There are still civilians within range," Natasha interrupted.

There was a crash as the monster smashed a high-rise. The ground rumbled beneath it as it walked, and the air shivered with its roars. What kind of mess was this time period- or universe- in?

"This may not be our world, but we need to help," Steve said, hefting his shield. This wasn't the biggest thing they've fought, though last time they had the full team. It was really a shame that Thor and the Hulk had been well away from the area that got teleported.

"No arguments here, Cap. Usual battle formation?" Tony asked. A red and gold streak showed him zooming overhead to analyze the situation.

"Widow, Hawkeye, run evac until we get a better idea of what weaknesses it has," Steve ordered, walking toward the calamity, "Iron Man, you hit it from the air, and I'll keep it occupied on the ground." It took a moment for him to decide that his catchphrase was appropriate. "Avengers, assemble!"

The fight was tougher than usual with two of their heaviest hitters left behind. But they made it work, even when the stupid news helicopters got in the way. While Iron Man kept its head busy with his light beams and even managed to fry its eyes out, Steve ran all over its scaly hide, stabbing into it with his shield wherever he could and often using it as a springboard.

The phosphorescent blue blood was bad news, made even Steve choke and his lungs burn like he had asthma again. "Widow, Hawkeye, stay out of range! The blood is toxic!" he ordered with a hacking cough.

"Roger that. We'll fight from a distance," Clint confirmed.

A burst of flame erupted from the area of the monster's eye, an explosive arrow.

"Cap, we need to finish this off fast. The suit's nearly out of power," Tony said seriously. He grunted as he was batted away by a taloned hand. The hit was returned with a mini missile.

That put a dent in this plan. "Any bright ideas?" Steve asked through gritted teeth. Even his muscles were burning; they had been dropped from one fight right into another with no rest.

"Civilians are clear," Natasha reported in his ear, "Joining Hawkeye now." How she would do that with most of the building destroyed and no idea where he was, Steve wasn't sure but let it go. It was like they shared a brain half the time.

There was no response from Tony as Steve hopped from the arm to the shoulder and stabbed it on the neck with his shield. "Well?" he shouted into the comm in order to be heard over the roars of the monster.

"Looks like it's time to imitate Jonas again," Tony announced in his ear, "I fucking hate doing that, it takes forever to get the bullshit out of the suit." Before he could be dissuaded he took advantage of the monster's open mouth and dove straight in.

"Why does he always insist on doing things the most ridiculous way he can?" Clint complained as another explosive arrow hit home.

"It's Tony," Natasha replied dryly.

That did say enough. Even as Steve stabbed at the neck again, he felt the shudders of Iron Man blasting through its insides. It clutched at its chest and stomach, screeching in agony, before a final explosion released Iron Man from the skin of its belly like a C-section. Immediately it began swaying unsteadily, its cries getting weaker as it lost strength.

"Can you give me a lift?" Steve requested. Even for him it was getting difficult to keep balance, the hide slick with neon blue gunk. Only his shield lodged into its neck allowed him to stay on his feet during a particularly violent stumble.

"Sure thing Cap, jump off the side of the shoulder," was the glib reply.

"Roger that," Steve replied. He yanked his shield out, producing one final roar before he sprinted to the edge. Without a thought, he leaped into the open air.

His faith was rewarded; Iron Man plucked him effortlessly out of the air as he had a dozen times before.

It wasn't a moment too soon: the very air around them shuddered when the monster fell. It didn't get up.

"No movement. Your Jonas maneuver did its job, Iron Man," Hawkeye reported.

"Looks like our job is done here," Steve said gratefully. He was ready to find a buffet and then pass out for a few days. Carried against the metal chest of Iron Man, he found himself on the ground after getting an aerial view of the situation.

It looked like Hawkeye was right and it really was done. There was no sign of life from the thing they had just killed. The corpse just laid on its back, a phosphorescent blue and charcoal grey smudge on the ruined cityscape.

Once on the ground, Steve stepped out of the hold the metal arms had on him and off the feet of the Iron Man armor. The cold feeling he got was expertly ignored, just as it had been for the year since the Battle of New York. Instead of doing something silly like giving Iron Man a hug or peeling off the helmet to kiss the lips under it, Steve took off his own helmet with a sigh of relief. The breeze on his overheated forehead and sweat-soaked hair felt heavenly.

"Meet up at ground zero, ASAP. Time to help with the clean-up," he decided after a moment's break. He was exhausted, but these people needed help. There was no wasting time when lives were in the balance, even when they felt ready to drop.

An arrow with a line attached speared into the carcass. They were planning to zip-line down, then.

"I repeat, do not touch the carcass or the blood," Steve told them sternly.

"Yeah yeah, gotcha," Hawkeye returned casually. Steve could almost imagine the flippant hand wave that he would normally give.

Beside him, Tony removed the helmet. "Dear Thor, it smells out here," he swore and put it right back on.

Privately, Steve agreed. This was one of the few times he wished that he had allowed Tony to give him a full Iron Man-style helmet. The area stank of rotten fish and unburied corpses, coupled with salt water and crushed rock. Like Omaha Beach.

The assassins jetted down the line, letting go and tucking themselves into a roll just high enough to not break anything. From the awkward stumbles they did before they got themselves together, it was still enough to jar their bones. Compared to Tony and Steve, they were positively pristine.

"You're covered in the stuff," Natasha stated softly, eyeing the ruined Captain America suit with carefully modulated concern.

The protective red, white and blue fabric was covered in neon blue, and Steve swore it had gotten everywhere. His body felt stickier than usual, his suit heavy like that one time they fought living jello and he had to burn it. Slime squelched inside his boots. He could even taste it, acidic and burning his mouth. Not for the first time, he wished he had gone the route Bucky did and became a sniper instead of a melee specialist.

"It burns like the dickens, and tastes disgusting, but I think I'll live," Steve assured her with a strained grin, "Better me than you." That was putting it nicely. More likely than not his enhanced body could handle it, if badly, where he had no idea what it would do to the others.

"Uh, I don't think we're going to do much cleaning up," Tony said, head turned away from the carcass.

When Steve looked, he groaned and squeezed his eyes closed. Of course, they had to deal with the authorities first.

And these didn't look like the friendly kind, considering the guns and riot shields that were being pointed in their direction. The uncertainty in their faces showed that there may not be anyone of their caliber wherever they were. Damn.

With a sigh, Steve set the shield on his back and raised his hands in a placating gesture. Behind him, he heard guns get holstered and an arrow be put back in a quiver. Beside him, Tony made the helmet of his suit collapse.

"We come in peace," the genius proclaimed grandly. There were several clicks as his arsenal were put away, but Steve knew that he was still able to release it all in a matter of seconds.

Behind him, Clint groaned. "We're not that kind of aliens," he protested.

"You're just jealous you didn't think of it first," Tony shot back.

As their teammates began to squabble childishly, Steve and Natasha rolled their eyes and took a few careful steps toward the riot cops. "No matter how badly he phrased it, he's right. We're here to help," Captain America told them with his best expression of honesty.

One of the riot cops pressed something on her helmet. From the way she spoke not to them but about them, it must have been a comm line. "We have them. Two are covered in kaiju blue," she reported. There were a few seconds before she replied, "Roger that," and pushed the button again. This must be in the Pacific Northwest from her accent, maybe Portland since he didn't see the Space Needle anywhere.

"All the civilians I could find are hiding in the basements of nearby buildings," Natasha told the cop, "A few I had to drop into the sewers." She grimaced.

Sympathetically, Steve smiled at her. It was better than death, even if they would smell terrible at the end of this.

"You all need to be taken for decontamination and treatment," the cop told them all with a grim smile, "Especially you, sir. Follow me." She gestured to Steve in all his gore-covered glory.

As she gave instructions to her team, the Avengers silently conferred. After this long as a team, they knew each other well enough that words weren't often needed. A few nods and shrugs and pointed glances were enough agreement. They'd go along with it, for now.

"You lot, come with me," the cop who was in charge told them and began walking away from the scene.

The superheroes followed, all wary and tense. It was an unknown version of earth with giant monsters the likes of which they didn't often see and were apparently at least partially toxic. It would be foolish to get comfortable.

"I guess we should thank you for taking it down," the cop told them matter-of-factly, "We've been losing too many jaegers lately." What she was talking about, Steve had no idea beyond that the word 'jaeger' was German for warrior.

When he looked at the others, they had no idea either. Even Natasha frowned in confusion.

"What's going on here? What was that thing?" Steve demanded. The unsettling feeling in his stomach was intensifying. Something was very wrong here.

This time it was the riot cop's turn to look confused. "Where have you been living for the past decade?" she asked, lips quirking upward like they were joking, "You know that the kaiju war started eleven years ago and we made the jaeger program to fight them." When she saw them have another silent conference that led to even more confusion, she asked, "Have you been in a secret lab or something before now?"

It was Natasha's turn to smile blandly. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you," she stated truthfully.

Though the cop looked like she wanted to ask, she didn't. They had reached a large white tent with the toxicity symbol on it. "Good luck in there," she said to Steve and Tony with pity in her eyes as she left.

They frowned at each other, wondering just what kind of hell they had stepped into. "Better get this done with," Clint said with a shrug, and sauntered into the tent.

The rest followed and were met with people in hazmat suits. "Men on this side, women on the other," one instructed them, gesturing to where they would be sent.

Though he hated the team being separated, Steve knew that Natasha could handle anything that came her way. She departed with a nod to the left side of the tent.

The rest went right, the Iron Man armor clunking along with whirring mechanical joints. Before they could be instructed, Tony did something that made the armor open up at the front so that he could step out. "I'm fine, now can I go clean the armor?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

It looked like the hazmat people didn't expect that. They all looked at each other before an especially short man told him that he could get into a clean suit and spray off the armor in here.

With an aborted motion like he was going to pat Steve on the shoulder but decided against it, Tony sauntered away. The armor followed on its own, still open.

From there, it was just like every toxic clean-up that Steve had ever been through. As usual Hawkeye was inspected and deemed clean enough to not need a shower. He was allowed to go to the medical tent straight away once his boots were disinfected.

It was normal by now for Steve to be one of those that had to stay behind and get sprayed down. With a sigh he stripped off his costume, handing over his helmet and unhooking the shield from his back. The chest armor was unfastened quickly, and then his gloves and boots before the main part of his clothing.

There was a whistle from the other side of the tent. When he looked, Tony had just gotten back and was in a white suit just like the workers. "Damn, Spangles," he said with a grin, "Looking good. Want me to scrub you up instead?" He held up a scrub brush where he stood beside the now-closed armor.

"No!" Steve spluttered, "I'm fine, I'll do it myself." He turned his back to the infuriating, leering man with cheeks that he felt turning an alarming shade of pink.

When he looked down, he really did need to scrub up. The blue stuff had gotten through his suit and dyed his skin. His armor and gloves had protected the vital bits of his body, but that left his undercarriage, forearms, legs and feet completely blue. Steve knew that his face was covered in the stuff too. With a grimace he stepped under a shower head and allowed himself to be cleaned off.

Despite the bleach that was being used on his body, it actually felt kind of relaxing. The sweat was coming off despite that the water ran the color of blueberry preserves. If only it smelled that good.

On the other side of the tent, he heard the soft curses and elaborate swears that meant Tony was cleaning the armor of some kind of stupid grime he hated. This stuff really was stubborn, he agreed. Even ten minutes later the water was still running blue, if pale.

After twenty minutes, one of the men said, "This is the cleanest we're gonna get you." By then the water was running clear, despite that Steve's skin was still blue. Not nearly as blue as it had been, though, the color only concentrated in his pores. Much like that time he lost a bet to Clint and had to dye his hair purple.

He was given a clean towel to dry off with and grimaced apologetically when the fabric came away blue. That would be a pain to get clean, if they didn't just destroy it.

The wordless apology was waved off. Apparently it was expected.

He left Tony behind in favor of getting some clothes. Where he wasn't self-conscious about his body (how could he be?) he was admittedly more modest than anyone else on the team. With a grateful sigh he stepped into clothing, even if it was a borrowed bright yellow jumpsuit.

A man in a first responder uniform showed him to another tent, this one with a red cross on the side. With a nod of thanks and a grimace, Steve entered. Immediately he was shown to one of the many curtained off enclosures. From one he could hear Clint complain about his knee popping. Through a gap between the curtains of another he saw Natasha getting her breathing checked.

A doctor was already waiting in the enclosure Steve was dropped off at, a grey-haired woman with clever brown eyes. "Take a seat," she told him kindly, gesturing to a folding chair in the middle of the room.

The usual sort of after-battle tests were performed, from blood pressure to checking for hidden injuries. Every test was passed with flying colors and nods of approval from the doctor. This time though, at the end he was told to cough into a tissue.

Puzzled, Steve did so. When he looked into the tissue, he frowned when he saw the same indigo blue that was in his pores. "What's this?" he asked. His throat hurt just getting the words out.

"Kaiju blue," the doctor told him sympathetically, "I'm sorry, young man. I'm referring you for palliative care." Even Steve knew that meant that there was no chance. They were just going to make his death as comfortable as possible.

"What do you mean? What is this kaiju blue stuff? What does it do?" he asked hoarsely. Despite that he knew it was apparently a death sentence, he needed an explanation.

Much like the riot cop, the doctor frowned at him. But this time it was brief and quickly replaced by a professional smile that almost hid the pity. "Kaiju blue is what we call kaiju blood, but it's also the disease that is caused by it," she explained simply, "First sufferers begin to cough up blue. Then they invariably go into shock and die." She was blunt with her diagnosis, but that was welcome.

Numbness took Steve as he looked down into the blue-stained tissue. It was forced away; he still had a job to do. "Thank you, ma'am," he said with a tight smile.

As the doctor wrote down his information and directions to the nearest hospice, Steve planned and plotted. He was determined to live. This kaiju blue was deadly to ordinary humans, but no one said anything about super-soldiers.