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"I do not understand." Thor had begun pretty much every sentence with that statement since Steve had pressed play on It's a Wonderful Life. Attempting to watch the movie at all was a pretty big mistake. Tony had thrown his hands up in the air and mumbled something about anyone who hadn't been frozen having seen the flick at least 2,000 times. Natasha had deemed it too sentimental. Clint had rolled his eyes. Bruce, who'd initially suggested the movie to Steve, shyly, was in the middle of something very sciency and important that Steve had no hope of understanding.
"Why does George Bailey not simply vanquish Potter?" Thor was saying.
"Because that's not..." Steve sighed. "It wouldn't be a feel-good movie if George took Mjolnir to Potter's skull."
"It would be for George Bailey."
"Maybe we should just call it a night for now."
Steve closed his eyes. Thor had been his last hope of finding a buddy (okay, so Steve really kind of hoped more than a buddy sometime, somehow, some way). Not only had Thor never seen any of the Christmas classics, but the demigod was on a real Christmas tear. Feasting, merrymaking, and gift giving were all right up Thor's ally and he'd been doing his utmost to embrace every single Christmas tradition he heard about.
In fact, if the North Pole ever exploded, it wouldn't even come close to what Thor had done to the lobby of the Avengers mansion. There was holly and tinsel as far as the eye could see, and every nook and cranny, hell, every square foot of space had become home to an assortment of Santas. There were big Santas, small Santas, Santa ornaments, Santa cookie jars, Santa statues, Santa hats, flat Santa decorations hung on the walls, big plastic Santas stood in the corners. And Thor's admiration of Santa was apparently equalled only by his admiration of snowmen. So many snowmen. And the trees.
"Most people only get one tree, Thor," Tony had said, tiredly, when Thor lugged in his 12th monstrous fir. Much to the amusement of everyone who wasn't Tony.
"Indeed, Man of Iron, but I have many Christmases to make up for!"
"Uh, Just how many Christmases would that be, exactly?" Steve had asked, admiring the giant inflatable Santa that blew artificial snow.
"Hundreds, at least." Thor shoved the reception desk out of the way. "Can we relocate this? Tomorrow's tree is far bigger."
"Tomorrow's..." Tony spluttered something unintelligible and almost definitely profane.
"What is wrong with the Man of Iron?"
Bruce threw an arm around Tony's shoulder's and smiled. "Maybe his heart's just two sizes too small."
"I hate you all," Tony said.
Steve finally took pity on Tony and approached Thor. "How would you feel about watching a classic Christmas movie with me upstairs?"
*
Steve had fully intended to restart the movie the next night, but that was before the Brinks truck landed on him.
"C'mon Cap, let's get you upstairs." Hawkeye and Tasha supported Steve, while Thor and a dazed Bruce brought up the rear with a limping Tony who only had a left leg thanks to his armor.
"Doom sure knows how to ruin a holiday," Steve grumbled.
"You're just lucky that Doombot had bad aim. I don't think that super serum covers having your head caved in." Hawkeye steered Steve towards the infirmary.
"I'm okay, really. Just put me on the couch."
"Like hell, Cap. You're a walking bruise."
"Accelerated healing," Steve said, "I'll be okay in a day or two. You guys need to look at Tony's leg."
After a lot of assurances to the rest of the Avengers that he would be fine, Steve finally found himself stretched out on the couch with a heating pad on his back and an ice pack around his knee. He glanced at the DVD copy of It's a Wonderful Life laying on the coffee table. It didn't feel much like a wonderful life. Not with Tony hurt and him covered in bruises. To say nothing of the three apartment buildings Doom had demolished.
"Evil schemes and supervillains - what would you have thought of that, George?" Steve propped a leg up on the coffee table and stared at a smiling Jimmy Stewart.
Outside, snow had started falling over New York. It figured. A white Christmas that wasn't going to be merry in the least for any of the people currently homeless due to Doombots.
Steve looked at the DVD one more time and then flicked on a boxing match.
"I expected you to be watching that old movie," Tasha said from the doorway.
"I guess I'm just not feeling too festive at the moment. How's Tony?"
"He'll be fine. Getting all stitched up by his favorite doctor after all."
"You mean Bruce?"
Tasha gave just the hint of a smile, walking into the room with an assured grace that Steve envied. "You really are too much, Cap." Before Steve could ask what she meant by that, Tasha had cast her eyes down at the DVD. "I remember watching part of that, just a little bit, a long time ago."
Steve was tempted to ask if Tasha had watched it with her parents, but he knew enough pieces of her story to stay silent. "Did you like it?"
"At the time."
Steve nodded. "Just seems a little too idyllic, maybe, by today's standards." He hesitated just a moment before asking: "I don't suppose you'd want to watch it with me?"
Tasha gave him another half-smile. "I have to go meet Clint. And I'm sure Fury will want a full report from everyone involved."
"That's bound to put everyone in the Christmas spirit," Steve sighed and Tasha turned to leave. "Natasha?"
"Yes, Cap?"
"I know it's early, but Merry Christmas."
"Thanks, Cap."
*
Two days later, all hell had broken loose again - this time some mad scientist had sent Bruce and Tony on a frantic mission to defuse a chemical weapon that was certain to obliterate most of the Eastern Seaboard while the rest of the Avengers tried desperately to find his secret lair. Of course the secret lair turned out to be almost on the other side of the world, somewhere in Northern Vietnam.
"Why can't these guys ever have a hideout in Vegas? Just once I'd like to bust one of these jerks in Vegas," Clint grumbled, and swatted a mosquito on his neck.
"Vegas is a little too public for most of these guys, I think." Steve dug around in his pack for the bug spray and tossed the can to Clint.. "Anyway, at least it's warm here."
"Yeah, the jungle is an excellent place to spend Christmas." Clint surrounded himself in a cloud of spray.
"If we get this taken care of, we'll still be home in plenty of time for Christmas."
"Fear not, my friends, we shall be home in time for Santa's coming!" Absoutly nothing had dampened Thor's Christmas spirit. But nothing ever dampened Thor's spirit, and Steve admired him for it. The demigod was currently hacking his way through the jungle with gusto.
Natasha dropped back and lowered her voice so that only Clint and Steve could hear her. "Has anyone told him Santa isn't real?"
Steve quirked a smile. "Do you want to tell him?"
"That's a negative." Clint slapped the side of his thigh. "Goddamnit."
"They must find you especially tasty," Tasha smiled.
"I'm going to ask Tony Stark to make me some industrial strength bug spray for Christmas."
"Might not be a bad idea," Steve mopped the sweat from the back of his neck. "And don't worry about Thor. There'll be a present for him under the tree from Santa." Actually, Steve had made sure that there would be five presents under the tree, all from Santa.
"What'd you get him?" Clint emerged from a cloud of bug spray.
"Santa got him a little mjolnor pendant." Steve had looked long and hard for an old and authentic Norse design that would also look good against Thor's outfit.
"That's really sweet, Cap."
Steve blushed.
*
On Christmas Eve afternoon, Steve had settled in on the couch with a mug of hot cider, a big bowl of popcorn, and the high hopes that Thor would join him later. The scent of the roast Tony was cooking (or, more accurately, the roast Tony was supervising the cooking of) filled the air. The presents were under the tree. Everything was in place for a relaxing holiday.
Which was, of course, Loki's cue to bust out of his Asgardian prison and wreak havoc all over New York City.
"Can't we have just one day off?" Clint sighed, still covered in bug bites from Vietnam.
"Not if you're an Avenger," Steve told him. But he was more worried about Thor. All of them knew Thor still loved his brother and held out hope that Loki might be somehow redeemed.
It was a difficult battle. Loki wasn't about to go down without a fight and without leveling as much of New York as he could manage. And he had a hell of a score to settle with his brother.
In the end, it came down to one ridiculously pissed off Hulk, several well-aimed blows with Mjolnir, and the combined effort of the rest of the Avengers. But they managed to subdue Loki in the end. If he lived to be a thousand, Steve would never forget the crestfallen look on Thor's face when he shuttled his brother off to Asgard.
When Steve finally trudged back into the Avengers mansion with the tattered remains of his team at 3 am on Christmas Day, the first thing he did was throw It's a Wonderful Life in the trash.
At 3:50 am on Christmas Day, Steve woke to the unmistakable sound of Jimmy Stewart at an ungodly volume. Slipping out of bed, Steve made his way to the television room, only to find Thor sitting on the couch with a bowl of stale popcorn in his lap and Steve's forgotten mug of now-cold cider in his hand.
"You're back."
"I wanted to see how George Bailey fared," Thor said, quietly.
"Mind if I join you?" Steve didn't care much about George Bailey at the moment, but Thor looked lost.
Thor smiled at him. "I would very much enjoy that."
"Do you think we could lower the volume just a little?" But Thor shook his head, and Steve started to wonder if any of the explosions they'd been exposed to over the course of the month had damaged the demigod's hearing.
Steve sank down on the couch and Thor passed him the popcorn. Onscreen, George Bailey saved his brother from falling through the ice. Steve's shoulder brushed against Thor's, and he tensed for a moment before Thor threw an arm around him.
Tony appeared in the doorway wearing a pair of pajama pants and holding a mug of coffee. "Little loud guys."
"Thor likes it that way," Steve said.
Tony shrugged and stared at the screen for a long moment before crossing the room to plunk down on the couch a few inches away from Steve.
Clint, dappled with Calamine lotion was next. He sat in an easy chair and watched George lasso the moon with them.
Bruce came in right about the time Uncle Billy was heading to the bank and sat next to Tony. And at some point, Tasha materialized on the arm of Clint's chair.
It was only after they were all together that Thor finally relaxed against him.
"It is Christmas," Thor finally said. "We're supposed to be together."
Steve squeezed his hand and wished he had the words he was looking for. We won't leave you or hurt you, he wanted to say, we care about you. He would have given anything to find just the right phrase that would heal the deep wound of Loki's betrayal. But all he managed was: "Merry Christmas, Thor."
Thor squeezed his hand in return.
Steve hadn't realized how tired he was, but he felt himself drifting. From somewhere far away he heard their voices.
"I think our fearless leader is tired."
"Getting hit by a Brinks truck will do that to a guy."
"He'll miss the end of the movie."
"I don't think he minds."
And he didn't mind, because he felt the rasp of Thor's beard and the light kiss against the top of his head. And he heard, distantly, the whispered: "Merry Christmas, Steven."
And anyway, there was always next year.