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Steve doesn't know exactly how it started to really mean something to him.
Natasha had left him a gag gift of a stuffed spider, bedecked in a length of red silk ribbon. Somehow, it was the afterthought of that crimson fabric that ended up fascinating him. Such a feminine gesture on the surface, and yet silk was so strong, the fibers flexible and able to take on so many colors. Not able to figure out the draw to the simple object, Steve found himself wrapping it around his wrist before suiting up for battle, a hidden talisman for his cracked soul.
It was a tattered mess in time, worn again and again in the private darkness of his gauntlet of a matching red hue, dark with the sweat and oils of his skin and steeped in sentimentality. He'd made an animal sound of pain when the medics cut it away to get to the shattered bone beneath and the rest of his team startled at the sound and the way he yanked himself away from the fussing to scrabble for the tattered scraps.
Ironically, it was Clint that snatched the battered red up, instantly confused by the scraps in his hand. "Sentimental, Cap?" Tony commented, but somehow without his usual acerbic edge. No one missed the blue eyes flickering from the broken ribbon over to a confused Natasha before darkening with mixed feelings. The elephant in the room the rest of the team played stupid about. Natasha's bright gaze, alert to every nuance, watched the pieces of ribbon move from Clint's hand to Steve's, how the soldier's powerful hand clung to them like a lifeline.
That night, Steve wasn't surprised by the tiny sound of Natasha sneaking into his room and didn't look away from his wrapped arm where it rested on his pillow to the table next to his bed where the scraps lay in a pile. It hurt, knowing that this little piece of history was broken now. Though even his melancholy couldn't fight down the smile as Natasha sat behind him, draping herself over his shoulder and stroking his hair.
"From the spider all those months ago?"
"Yeah. I… I like having a little piece of you close."
They were words enough and Natasha leaned down to nuzzle her face into neck, locks of red hair falling over his nose and chin. The quiet affection eased something in Steve, warmed a place that had been cold with loss for so very long. They'd started out playmates, a natural progression of attraction and respect, but it had become much more. Just as time had made the mismatched group of reluctant heroes into his team, his family.
Some time passed with the couple just breathing together.
In time, Natasha sat up and Steve rolled his head over to smile, warmed by the quirk of something soft and just for him in the upturn of the corner of her mouth. It took her elegant fingers pulling at it for Steve to notice the crimson ribbon hanging loose around her neck and his eyes widened.
"I… like the idea of you having a little piece of me with you," she whispered with a vulnerability that Steve had never heard before and it brought a lump to his throat. Then they both realized that his wrist was still wrapped up in splints and bandages while his enhanced body dealt with the damages and huffed in mutual humor. With a shrug, Nat pulled carefully at his broken arm, just below his shoulder. When he obliging shifted a bit, she threaded the ribbon around the thick muscles and tied it loosely to the cleft between bicep and shoulder. "There."
"I don't have anything to give you in return," Steve whispered and marveled over the softness that spread over her beautiful face as she stroked his disheveled hair away from his forehead.
"You already have."
And Steve was smart enough to just shut up and hug her tight to him until their growling bellies drove them back to the others. Steve startled when the other guys rose formally, all four of them, when he walked in with Natasha at his side. There was more gravity to the room than a simple meal entailed.
"Captain," Thor intoned quietly in his most serious voice. "Natasha has invited us to participate in this new ritual. It would be our honor. In many cultures, it is comforting to take a talisman of one's loved ones into battle."
With a gesture, he invited Clint to step over, the smaller man grinning despite the weirdness of the situation. From his pocket he pulled out a coil of thick, stiff cord the color of old terra cotta. "Bow string," he shrugged with no apology and eyeballed Natasha's crimson against Steve's pale skin, shrugging again and going with it. In only moments he produced a knife from somewhere and cut off what turned out to be a perfect length. Beneath his dexterous archer's fingers, the cord was twined around itself and tied in place by Natasha's red. It made Steve grin helplessly. "Orange, because it's a hot color like sunlight from above and it's close to, but not quite red."
Steve gave his fingers a quick squeeze before the smaller man stepped away, clearly pleased with the whole thing. After a moment of awkwardness, Bruce cleared his throat and stepped in with a woven piece of heavy thread, clearly some sort of plant fiber dyed a natural, dull green and added it to the growing display on Steve's upper arm, expression intent. "Thanks for this, both of you. It's good for me to remember that green is the color of life, too. That growing things are both serene as well as violent in their own ways."
There was another beat as Bruce stepped away and Thor gave a fidgety Tony a wry look before stepping in to grasp Steve by the upper arms and beam at the other man. "I have always been honored to not only fight at your side, all of you, but to learn more of this world I have come to love. In the past, the color purple has been associated with royalty, but more importantly, it is the color of the night skies just before true darkness falls. A color that shows the stars."
From the big Asgardian, a narrow, smooth cord that shimmered strangely in the light. It was not unlike the stars in the night sky or the lightning that was so much a part of him. They gripped one another's forearms and beamed like goofballs at each other, making Natasha chuckle. Then they all looked expectantly at Tony. In so many ways, he was the strangest variable in an already strange group, prickly and sometimes more explosive then the assassins gone hero. But his affection and need for them wasn't feigned, even if he didn't cope with it well sometimes.
Rolling his eyes as much at himself as the weird situation, Tony stalked over, yanking a length of something thin and whippy out of his pocket. "Fine," he groused, but his eyes were intense and well aware of the gravity of this gesture they were making to the man they looked to lead them with skills the rest of them simply didn't have. "Yellow, gold, whatever. For you know, reasons."
It took Steve a moment to realize that it was a length of plastic-coated wire that looked like it might be actual gold that Tony was weaving back along itself as Clint had done. But Tony did not presume to touch anyone else's gifts. He was touchy about things like that. Steve was feeling rather choked up at the seemingly simple or even silly gestures of the bands of color adorning him. But the weight of them was a million times more than the physical mass of them.
Smiling that soft smile, Natasha pulled a blue ribbon from somewhere, the match to hers, and carefully threaded it around the others, so that it bound them all loosely together. "There, blue eyes, you beat the water, you beat the ice and came to us to really make us a team."
Tony returned with a laden tray of goblets of amber liquid which they all immediately took up.
"To the Avengers," he intoned seriously and barely waited for the others to echo the toast and clink the heavy crystal before he knocked the whole thing back. Bruce coughed over the strength of the stuff, something hot and overpowering and a little spicy while Thor looked intrigued and Clint wrinkled his nose. Tony slapped the colorful arm band hard enough that it would have made anyone but Steve or maybe Thor sting and added in a deceptively conversational tone, "and when they get damaged or lost, we'll get more, stronger than before."
And everyone knew that they weren't just talking about ribbons and cords and thread now.
"Seriously though, can we eat now?"
Everyone laughed just as Tony was clearly fishing and the serious mood dissipated as they broke apart to a suddenly ordinary evening. Natasha willingly paused when Steve put a hand on her arm, drawing her in for a long, slow kiss. "Thank you," he murmured and drank up her smile as much as her kisses.
The others carefully ignored them.
Like a knight of old, Steve returned to battle bedecked in proper finery from those he loved and protected; a strengthening and heartfelt secret held close to his skin.