A/N: Hi all! I probably should have mentioned on the first chapter, but spoilers for everything through Cap 2: Winter Solider. I won't mention too, too much, but this will put the story in the proper context :) Again, I own nothing but the laptop these words were typed on. Hope you enjoy!
Steve was angry. And confused. And maybe, most of all, cold. The journey back to Avenger Tower had been relatively quiet. Or it had seemed that way to Steve who was still trying to digest the fact that he was once again a very small, very young child. He'd sat huddled within his jacket on Natasha's lap, mind a whirly-gig of thoughts and emotions.
He remembered everything. Or at least he was pretty sure he did. So when Tony called him kiddo and tried to ruffle his hair he'd gotten an earful. Which left Steve feeling like the worlds biggest heel once he'd run out of words. And breath. There was a tightness in his chest and a shakiness in his limbs that had been absent since the serum.
He was not happy to have them back.
Now he sat on the couch, still wrapped in his jacket, watching as the 'grown-ups' talked quietly across the room. They might have thought he couldn't hear, but Steve's hearing had always been good. Even with his nose leaking and his throat a nightmare of tight, achiness, he was still Steve Rogers. He wasn't nearly as breakable as they seemed to think.
"What are we going to do?" Tony glances at Steve. There's real worry in his eye, which makes Steve feel a little worse for yelling at the man.
"I don't think we can do anything," says Bruce. "You heard them. The spell will wear off. We just have to wait it out."
"And what if someone comes after him? Or aliens attack and we need Captain America?"
"It's sixty days," says Natasha. "Not sixty years. We'll figure it out." She doesn't look nearly as assured as her words make her sound.
Steve's chest tightens further. Like this he's a liability, not an asset. They all know it. The spiral of self-pity his brain is taking comes to a halt as Pepper hurries from the elevator, loaded down with bags from various department stores.
Tony must have called her from the car because instead of asking who he is, she puts down the bags and sinks down on the couch next to him, her hand coming up to rest on his back.
"How you doing, Steve?" she asks quietly. "I got you some things if you'd like to change."
He heart swells. He doesn't think he's ever been as happy to see someone as he is to see Pepper Potts. He smiles at her. "This jacket is a bit big."
"Then lets get you out of it." She nods at Tony and the other, and escorts him down the hall to his room, spreading the contents of the bags on his bed. There are t-shirts and button-downs, jeans and khakis, pajamas, underwear, socks and even shoes. He selects a blue long-sleeve shirt with a big star on the front and the jeans and retreats to the bathroom. He might now be six, but no way is he changing in front of a dame.
To his surprise everything fits and he shuffles back out, inexplicitly exhausted. Pepper must see it in his face for she asks him if he wants to take a nap. A nap sounds excellent, but his stomach growls reminding him that he never actually got any lunch.
Besides, he really should talk with the team and reassure them. "I need to talk with the others first," he says, pulling on a pair of sneakers. They're so tiny it's shocking.
Pepper's lips quirk up in bemusement, but she doesn't argue with him, simply following as he heads back to the main room. Everyone is still there and Steve could swear Bruce smiles at the sight of him.
"Well, look at you, Rogers," says Natasha dryly. "Still going for the all-American look."
Steve's grown used to Natasha over the years, especially in the last couple of months since their take down of SHIELD and lets the teasing comment by. He wishes they weren't all standing, as it cranes his neck something awful. Before he can thoroughly think it through, he puts his arms up. Natasha looks surprised for a moment and then scoops him, placing him on her hip. This close her soft hair brushes against his face and he panics for a moment about where to put his hands, before fastening them on her shoulders.
Fighting the blush that threatens to creep over his face, he looks at the team. "I heard you guys talking. And I'm okay. Really," he insists when the doubtful expressions on their faces don't ease. "I can still help plan battles if it comes to that, but things have been quiet since Nat and I took down that last Hydra cell. There's no other threats that we know of on the horizon. And if something comes up, I'm sure you can handle it."
He's more than sure actually. Ever since waking in this new century he's been feeling more than a little superfluous. Next to Thor, Iron-Man, and the Hulk Steve's strength is nothing; Hawkeye makes his marksmanship look positively terrible; and Natasha can take down grown men twice her size without blinking. They might function better together as a team with him giving orders, but half the time when it comes down to following Steve's plan or their gut, their gut wins out much more than Steve is comfortable with.
"Maybe," says Natasha now. "But it won't be the same without you."
That damn blush is back and from the way Tony chortles, Steve knows this time he hadn't been able to hide it.
This, he thinks with a sigh as Natasha carries him into the kitchen, is going to be a long sixty days.
