Rain lashed against the glass of Avengers Tower as the Quinjet settled onto the landing platform, engines whining down after a long, grueling mission. The team stepped out into the cold downpour, exhausted and soaked within seconds, boots splashing across the slick surface as thunder rolled over Manhattan. They were halfway to the entrance when a thin, fragile cry cut through the storm. Everyone froze. Steve turned first, scanning the shadows near the base of the tower, and there—tucked against the wall beneath the overhang—sat a small basket, rain dripping from its edges. Inside, wrapped in damp blankets, was a newborn baby, face red from crying, tiny hands reaching blindly into the night. Without hesitation, Steve shrugged off his jacket and lifted the child carefully into his arms as the others formed a silent shield against the rain, the weight of battle still on them but already replaced by something far more urgent.