REWRITE
Chapter Two "Doodling"
After almost an hour, Tony had finished breakfast. He set a pile of pancakes, eggs and bacon on the island. Steve stared at it. Then he looked over at Sam with a "help me" sort of expression.
Sam didn't have to be told. He got up and grabbed another plate.
Tony watched the exchange silently with faraway look in his eyes. After an uncomfortable pause, he snapped out of it. "I'll be in the lab," he said, turning and leaving the room.
Steve couldn't really fault him. This would take some getting used to.
Sam took most of the food, as if to make it less obvious that Steve didn't eat much, though nobody would have been fooled. And Steve did try to eat as much as he could, but it had been a few days since he'd had a real meal, and his stomach was already sensitive. He knew when to stop. The old habits came back easier than he would have expected.
"You're gonna take it easy for a couple of days," Sam said while they ate. It wasn't a question. "Maybe when you're feeling up to it, we'll go into the city and get you some real clothes."
Steve looked down at himself. "What's wrong with my clothes?" he asked with as much false sincerity as he could manage.
Sam showed no reaction. "I mean, if you like wearing girl's t-shirts, who am I to judge."
Steve punched Sam's shoulder. "I'm just glad Tony wears such tight pants."
Sam shook his head. "Man, that's just weird."
They both laughed about it, and Steve was glad to have some kind of normal conversation. He didn't foresee a lot of that in the near future.
When they finished eating, Steve cleaned up the dishes, grateful that Sam didn't offer to help, though he seemed ready to jump in if Steve needed anything.
"I'm good here," Steve said as he started on the pans. "You can go finish your game."
Sam went back to the living room, but he chose a seat with a clear line of sight to the kitchen. Steve had to be content with that. He knew it would take some time before everyone stopped watching him constantly.
When he finished cleaning the kitchen, Steve headed back to his room to get his sketchbook. He thought that qualified as taking it easy. As he reached his door, he found a note taped a little above eye level, written in Tony's uneven scrawl. At the top it said, "Health Checkup Tomorrow 9AM." Below that was a list of specialists Steve would be seeing. He sighed, remembering all the times he had to see a doctor when he was younger. But medicine had improved in the last 70 years. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
He put the note in his pocket so he would remember and went into his room. As he walked in, he noticed his clothes from before the reversion still laid across the back of a chair. He picked them up and put them away so he wouldn't have to look at them. He took his sketchbook and a few pencils from the desk and headed back out to the living room.
Vision was reading in one of the big chairs, and Sam and Wanda had resumed their game. Steve found a comfortable spot on the couch and settled in. He felt unreasonably tired, but that was to be expected. He opened his sketchbook, noticing that he hadn't used it in a few months. There had been a lot of missions lately. He tried to remember them all, but found the details were muddled together in his mind. Losing his sharp memory would be challenging, but it might also make it easier to sleep at night.
Steve pulled his knees up and rested his sketchbook on them. He stared at the blank page for a while before he began doing some quick sketches of whatever popped into his head. He soon lost track of time, but that was always the way when he started drawing. At least it was before the serum. After the serum, he couldn't lose track of time if he wanted to.
He was startled when Sam sat down next to him. "You've been at that for three hours," Sam said, with a hint of a smile.
Steve sat up straight, feeling the ache in his neck and his knees from holding them in the same position so long. "Yeah, I'm gonna regret that," he said, setting down the pencil and rubbing his hands together.
Sam looked at the page of different sketches. "Is this some kinda modern art?" he asked. "'Cause I got no clue what it's supposed to be."
Steve snatched the book away. "This is why I don't share my interests with you," he said.
Sam put his hand over his heart. "And after I told you all the best music," he said.
"I'm started to wonder if I should trust your taste in anything."
Wanda walked into the room and noticed the sketchbook. "I think it's us," she said.
"What?" Sam asked looking at her.
Wanda gestured to the page. "That one, see the movement, the game board."
Sam stared at her, eyebrows raised. "There's movement?"
Steve smiled. "Yeah, that's you two," he said. "It's a quick sketch, just the suggestion of a scene."
Wanda sat on the arm of the couch. "I used to like reading about art techniques before I started learning music."
"I wanted to do music when I was a kid, but pencils and paper were cheaper," Steve said.
"And Sam is just a critic." Wanda smiled at him.
"Hey, I never claimed any special talents," Sam said. "Except cooking. I mean, Stark's pancakes were okay, but—"
"We should stop him before his head explodes," Steve said.
Sam waved his hand dismissively, as if they just didn't understand. "See if I let you guys have any pizza."
"Pizza?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, it's in the oven," Sam said. "Should be ready by the time Nat and Clint get back."
"Did I mention you're my best friend?" Steve teased.
"Now I know that's not true," Sam said, standing. "But you're skinny, so I guess I have to feed you."
"We prefer 'underweight,'" Steve said.
Sam shook his head. "Yeah, I'm sure the weight challenged potato people have all sorts of proper terms."
"This better not become a thing," Steve said, wishing he hadn't made the potato comments earlier.
"Oh, it's a thing." Sam walked into the kitchen as if to have the last word.
Wanda went over to the coffee table to clean up the checkerboard, and Steve decided to take his sketchbook back to his room before anyone else decided to share their opinions.
~A~
Natasha was quiet as she brought the jet in for landing at Avengers HQ. Clint had asked a lot of questions on the way, and she tried to answer them as best she could, but she still wasn't sure what to make of Steve's sudden chance. Vision had called earlier to say that Steve was up and about. It was the only good news they could really hope for at this point.
As they walked out onto the landing pad, Clint stopped and put his hand on Natasha's shoulder. He didn't say anything, which was unlike him, but she got the message: Everything's gonna be okay.
If only she could believe that.
The smell of pizza and the sound of laughter greeted them as they came into the living area. Steve and Wanda were sitting at the table, and Sam was just bringing the food out.
"Hey, when did we start letting little kids in here?" Clint asked, trying to break the ice.
Steve shook his head. "They'll let anybody in here these days."
"Where's Tony?" Natasha asked, looking around as if she expected him to be there.
"He's been in his lab since lunchtime," Steve said. He said it casually enough, but Natasha noted something off in his eyes.
"More pizza for us," Clint said, pulling up a chair.
"You didn't come all the way up here on account of me?" Steve asked.
"You kidding?" Clint replied. "I came for the food. A man can only eat so many chicken nuggets, ya know?"
"How are the kids?" Steve asked.
"They're monsters, but what do you expect?" Clint shrugged.
"That's what you get for naming one of them after her." Steve nodded at Natasha.
She sat down across from them and grabbed a plate. "Careful, Rogers," she said. "I could kick your ass before you were skinny."
"Ah, I think he went easy on you," Clint said.
"No fighting at the table," Sam said, sitting down with them. "And he prefers 'weight challenged.'"
"Underweight," Steve corrected.
"Whatever." Sam really wasn't paying attention.
"Here." Clint handed Steve another piece of pizza before he'd finished his first one. "No dessert until you finish that."
"I think you forgot to turn off dad mode," Natasha said.
"Does he ever?" Steve asked.
They enjoyed the rest of their meal. Steve didn't finish his food, but no one bothered him about it. After a while Natasha left the table and went down to the lab. She had hoped Tony would make an appearance of his own accord, but it looked like he needed a push.
She found him in the middle of several stacks of file boxes and papers. He was muttering something to himself about analog tech.
"You plan on eating any time soon?" Natasha asked, standing just inside the doorway with her arms crossed.
Tony looked up as if surprised she was there. "I'll eat later," he said, turning back to his work.
Natasha walked over to see what he was doing. "You know, Steve said you'd been down here all day."
"Huh? Yeah, working on this..." he flipped a few pages. "Dad's handwriting is shit."
"Tony." Natasha put her hand on his shoulder.
Tony dropped the papers into his lap and looked her in the eye. "I'm fine, this is fine. You don't need to do your whole super spy manipulation on me."
She shook her head. "You really think this is what he needs right now?"
"Yes," Tony replied without hesitation. "This is the guy who can't back down from a fight even if he is the size of a shih tzu. You know that, I know that, the whole damn world knows that."
Tony threw the file in his lap into a nearby stack. He stood and started pacing, rubbing his hands across his face. Natasha let him ruminate for a moment.
"Let's say we do nothing, then what?" he asked. "Steve goes and lives a normal life, dies in ten, fifteen years of a heart attack or any of the ten other things he's got going wrong. He's not just small, he's sick. It's a miracle he made it to twenty-three to begin with."
"So you're going to 'fix' everyone with health problems?" Natasha asked. "Or just Steve because you can't do this without him?"
"None of us can do this without him. You're deluding yourself if you think we can."
Natasha looked to the side for a moment, then turned back to face Tony. "Maybe you're right," she said. "But can you at least try to be in the same room with him for more than five minutes? People treating him like normal seems to be helping him."
"I'm not here to boost morale," Tony said. "We need answers to this before..."
He let the implication hang in the air. Natasha knew what he feared: an attack they couldn't face without Steve, or Steve's condition getting worse.
She nodded slowly. "Just don't forget that's not just a former super soldier up there," she said. "He's also your friend."
~A~
After a long shower, Steve decided to go to bed early so he would be ready for all the doctors in the morning. But when he got back to his room, he found it occupied. Natasha was sitting on the bed waiting for him.
"Hey," he said, not sure how else to respond to her sitting in his room.
"Hey," she replied with a soft smile. "I gotta say, I could get used to seeing you in my clothes."
Steve huffed in mild annoyance. "Very funny," he said.
Natasha stood and crossed the room toward him. She looked him right in the eye now, and he felt a bit like a fly in a web.
"You okay?" she asked, staring into his eyes.
"Yeah," Steve said, nodding a little too quickly.
She got that crooked smile she had when she knew he was lying. "No one expects you to be."
"I do," Steve said, standing as straight as his spine would allow.
Natasha nodded slowly. "Just know you've got a lot of people watching your back."
"I already know that."
"No, I don't mean we're looking out for Captain America. I mean you."
Steve met her eyes. "I know you've always seen through the shield. I'm not sure everyone else does."
Natasha tilted her head. "Stark doesn't know how to deal with things he can't control," she said. "And you've always fallen into that category."
"People can't be controlled. None of them."
"I knew all that freedom and liberty wasn't just the suit talking."
Steve laughed weakly. "You think he's gonna have a nervous breakdown when I leave the compound?"
"Probably, but when isn't Stark having a nervous breakdown?"
Steve smiled for real this time. "Thanks," he said. "For future reference, you're the only one who is allowed to try to cheer me up."
"Of course," Natasha said with a smirk.