Hi! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, reviews motivate me to keep writing. I have made some changes to the first chapter so if you read it awhile before this chapter was posted it would probably be a good idea to reread/skim over it again, especially the second half. Anyways, enjoy :)
People had always been so focused on the physical enhancements the serum gave him, that testing the limits of the mental ones had always fell by the wayside.
It made sense, the physical enhancements were immediately tangible; you only had to look at him and all those muscles to know that he was stronger, faster, the very pinnacle of physical human potential.
After everything that happened with S.H.I.E.L.D, he began testing himself. He could definitely process things much more quickly, and once he read, saw, or learned something, he didn't forget it. Couldn't forget it.
After Natasha fell into what looked like a very deep and peaceful slumber, Steve found some paper and a pencil and began drawing.
He'd always liked art, and even before the enhancements he wasn't bad at putting lines on paper. With the enhancements his hands were steadier; he hardly needed an eraser because whatever he saw in his mind seemed to magically appear on the paper.
He drew each of the men they'd encountered that night, proportional in terms of height to each other, along with a profile drawing. There were six, one of each of the men stationed outside Stark tower and one for each of the men they'd encountered outside his apartment.
On a seventh piece of paper he roughly sketched several of the men that had spilled out of the SUV. It had been dark, but he did catch a split second glimpse of their faces. It wasn't enough to tell how tall they were or their builds, but it was enough for him to memorize their features and recognize them again if he saw them. It was also enough for him to draw an accurate likeness of them.
All in all the drawings took him a little over half an hour.
Afterwards he checked on Natasha, who was still fast asleep, before going back up.
When Steve stepped out of the elevator, Tony was in a tizzy. He had holographic screens opened all over the place and seemed to be simultaneously pacing agitatedly, ordering Jarvis to do things, and arguing with Bruce over speakerphone.
"Tony, remind me again, who has a MD?" Bruce's disembodied voice was saying.
"Well I bet you didn't graduate at the top of your class with honors when you were 17. If you want to fight dirty, I'll fight dirty." Tony snapped back teasingly, frantically typing on one of the myriad of screens in front of him.
"Sir, are you sure you want me to run that program?"
"Of course I'm sure. Why would I have asked you to do it otherwise? That's why I wrote the program. Run the program!" he said dramatically with a flourish.
"You forget my PhD in nuclear physics," said Bruce good-naturedly.
"I did a semester of art school," said Steve, announcing his presence.
"Ah, nice of you to join us. Steve, Bruce wants a CT scan and an fMRI scan of Natasha's brain as she sleeps. Creepy huh? " said Tony.
"Tony, are you sure you know how to run those tests properly?" asked Bruce.
"I've been reading how to do it for the past ten minutes. I have complete confidence in myself. How hard can it be?" Bruce chuckled.
"Alright fine, I'll see you soon."
"He'll be here tomorrow," explained Tony for Steve's benefit.
"Jarvais, keep running that program while I'm gone."
"Of course sir."
"Where are you going?"
"We're going to a psych research facility. It should have the hardware we need, and there shouldn't be anyone around to bother us. You go get sleeping beauty and bring her up here. We'll take my chopper."
"Hang on a minute, are you sure that's a good idea? There are people in the city looking for us. We should lay low. What if they attack again?"
"That's why you're coming with us big guy, security detail. We need to monitor what's going on in her brain, and I don't have an fMRI scanner handy right now. Is she already asleep?"
"She was out as soon as her head touched the pillow-"
"We better hurry then. Go get her."
"And what if she wakes up?" Steve didn't want to get his head taken off.
"According to the information she gave us, she can't. Not until the process has completed changing her brain chemistry."
"And how long will that take?"
"We don't know. That's partly why we need to scan her brain."
"Okay fine, I'll go get her, but you take these," Steve handed him the drawings; "These are the guys that attacked us. These three were outside my place, these three are probably still outside this tower and these ones I only caught a glimpse of, but they were following us here."
Tony's eyes got wider and wider as he shuffled through the drawings, and it made Steve shift his weight uneasily with the realization that he'd hadn't shown anyone anything he's drawn since… At least since before he was frozen.
"Did you draw these?" asked Tony in what seemed to be astonishment. Steve couldn't be sure; he'd never witnessed Tony astonished before.
"Yeah... I figured it would help Maria and her team if they could identify who they were looking for," explained Steve sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
"These are like fucking photographs!" cried Tony shaking the drawings at him.
"Tony…" chastised Steve with a frown at his language.
Tony ignored him and laid the pictures out on one of his work benches.
"Jarvis scan these and see what you can pull for us."
"Yes sir."
Another screen popped up and soon they had the name and occupation of all of the men. They were all ex-S.H.I.E.L.D agents, meaning they were probably hydra.
Tony stared at real shots of the men and compared them with Steve's drawings.
"So the serum didn't just give you muscles... Or is this something you could do before?" he asked.
"I drew before. I wasn't kidding; I did actually go to art school for a while. The serum just helps keep images in my head long enough to get them down on paper." What he left unsaid was that the serum kept images in his head forever, but Tony threw him a calculating stare that made Steve think he already knew.
"Jarvis get me Hill on the line."
A ringing sound filled the room, and then there was Maria's disembodied voice, "Yes Stark?"
"I'm forwarding you some people to take care of. You might recognize some of them, they're ex-S.H.I.E.L.D."
Tony squinted at the screen in front of him and read off three names, "Anderson, Fig, and Rowlands are outside the Tower right now apparently."
"You'll probably find Oliver, Connor, and Hickory knocked out in the stairwell of the building I live in. Third floor," added Steve.
"Oh and give Sam a ring and see if he wants to lend a hand. He's been grounded this week," said Tony shooting Steve a meaningful look, which Steve ignored.
"On it sir. Would you like me to add an extra security detail to Miss Potts?" asked Maria.
"I already did. Send me updates."
"Yes sir."
"You better go get the sleeping princess. Chopper will be here any minute now," said Tony.
Natasha was no longer sleeping peacefully when Steve got to her. She was trembling, her brow was furrowed and her breathing was shallow and labored.
He put a hand on her curve of her cheek and it was very cold to the touch. He frowned.
The last time he'd seen her this small and vulnerable they'd just had missiles shot at them. When she was awake she seemed so very capable and worldly. The contrast with the seemingly fragile young woman in front of him was jarring, and he didn't like it.
He gathered her up and lifted her carefully, blanket and all. She didn't stir as he settled her more comfortably in his arms, her head cradled perfectly in the curve between his shoulder and chest.
She huddled closer to him in her sleep, probably seeking warmth.
With a metabolism that ran three times faster than an average human, Captain America was nothing if not warm.
He hurried back up, relived to see that her shivering lessened with his arms around her.
"Ah good the chopper's here. Seeing as your hands are full shall I take this for you?" said Tony tapping his shield, which had somehow ended up leaning against the work bench.
"Uhh, sure. Thanks," replied Steve.
"You should probably tell me what happened before you guys got here. I thought you might be pulling a prank on me when security told me some kid dropped it off, but then I remembered who you are."
"What do you mean?"
"I remembered you're 95 and far too mature to pull pranks," he didn't say mature like it was a good thing.
"70 of those years don't really count because I was unconscious," replied Steve exasperatedly.
Tony snapped his fingers and all the holographic screens popped out of existence. He put the shield on one arm and strutted over to the door, in what was obviously meant to be an impersonation of Captain America.
Steve snorted, "I don't walk like that."
Tony let out a spontaneous battle cry and pretended to throw the shield.
"Shesh, and you throw this thing like a Frisbee. I mean, its light compared to stainless steel, but then again what isn't?" said Tony scrutinizing the surface of the shield and taking stock of its weight.
"Tony, focus. Didn't you say we have a limited time frame to get this done?"
"Right, yes. Let's roll."
Steve followed him out through a ranch door that led to the roof, where Tony's helicopter was idling.
Steve climbed in first very carefully with Natasha, and then Tony followed, shutting the door behind them. He banged the ceiling of the helicopter like it was a cab, signaling to the pilot to take off.
Steve moved to put Natasha on the seat next to him, but Tony frantically motioned for him to keep her in his lap.
He furrowed his brow in confusion, but then realized he probably shouldn't jostle her too much, and it wasn't like she was crushing him.
Then Tony pulled his phone out and took a picture. Steve would have face-palmed if he had a hand free because of course Tony had to ruin something that seemed well-intentioned.
"What are do you think you're doing?!" he yelled over the whirring of the helicopter.
"Collecting blackmail material!" Tony yelled back gleefully.
A short journey later, the helicopter dipped low over the roof of the research facility. They disembarked and Tony told the pilot to circle the block.
He produced a key card from his jacket pocket and swiped it to let them in.
"Are we allowed to be in here?" asked Steve in a whisper. The building was dark and silent, Steve felt like the situation called for lowered voices.
"Not technically," replied Tony at normal volume, "I mean, I own the building so technically yes, but I got a trespass notice after what happened the last time I was here-"
"-I don't want to know," cut in Steve quickly. Tony chucked.
"Suit yourself. Now I think the room we want is this way…"
They took the elevator down several floors, and then Tony led them into a room which oddly reminded Steve of the laboratory where he received the serum in 1940, despite being much more high tech.
In the middle of the room there was an intimidating gleaming white piece of machinery. It ran from the ceiling to the floor, with a huge white ring and a platform where Steve presumed the person was supposed to go.
Across the room there was a series of computers, which Tony hurried towards. He booted them up and started typing away.
"Quick, put her there," said Tony in his no-nonsense scientist voice, gesturing vaguely towards the platform. Steve complied immediately.
"Also make sure she doesn't have anything metal on her. It's really important."
Steve gave her a quick look over. He'd gotten rid of the gun, his shirt was cotton, and he didn't feel anything metal and sharp when she was pressed against him as he carried her…
"Don't be a prude Cap, pat her down properly," said Tony without taking his eyes off the computer screen, "You and I both know she probably has something sharp hidden on her."
Steve signed and kept his touch light and impersonal as it brushed over her, ignoring the swooping sensation in this stomach.
Tony was right; Steve found a butterfly knife tucked into the strap of her bra and a very thin switch blade hidden down the ankle of a sock.
"I think we're good," he declared once he was sure there was nothing else.
Tony hurried over to the machine, adjusting knobs on the side, before affixing a white cap, not unlike Steve's cowl, to Natasha's head.
"Alright! Let's fire this bad boy up!" Tony pressed a button on the machine and a low electronic hum filled the room. The platform Natasha was resting on slide backwards until her head was in the bowels of the machine.
He scurried back over to the computer screens and resumed typing.
"So is this the CAT scan or the fMRI one?" asked Steve, feeling distinctly useless just standing there.
"fMRI," replied Tony absently.
"What does fMRI stand for?" asked Steve.
"Functional magnetic resonance imaging," replied Tony.
"…Right."
"The other scan we're going to do after this is a 'Computed Axial Tomography scan.'"
"I thought you said it was called a CT scan. Shouldn't it be called a CAT scan then?"
"Yeah they call it that too."
"It seems silly to have multiple names for the same thing…" Tony snorted.
"Welcome to science," he said wryly, "Scientists, especially biologists, love to fight over nomenclature."
"So what's the difference between a 'computed axial tomography scan' and 'functional magnetic resonance imaging'?"
"One uses x-rays and the other measures blood flow. Basically. That is, very basically," said Tony without taking his eyes off the screens in front of him. He frowned deeply and stroked his goatee.
"What is it? How does her brain look?" asked Steve.
"In my very limited experience and humble opinion, not normal," replied Tony with a grimace, "Have a look for yourself."
Steve left Natasha's side and went to stand behind Tony.
"Just looks like blobs of color to me."
"Those blobs of color are all over her temporal lobe. That's where memory is stored. Basically, there's a lot of suspicious activity going on in that area."
"So what should we do?" asked Steve worriedly.
"Nothing much we really can do at this point. I'm going to record the activity for a bit. Get comfortable Cap, we're going to be here for a while," said Tony.
Steve leaned against the wall beside the door, taking up a defensive position, and Tony sat in a swivel chair and put his feet up on the desk. He appeared to be engrossed with something on his phone; Steve suspected he was playing Galaga. They fell into a companionable silence.
Twenty minutes later Tony's phone started beeping.
"Uh-oh…" said Tony.
"What do you mean 'uh-oh'?" said Steve striding over.
"I connected Jarvis into the security mainframe to keep an eye out for hostiles. We have some coming this way now," he typed something and the camera feed replaced the images of Natasha's brain on the computer screen.
There were four guys dressed in swat gear and they were rushing up the stairs.
"How much longer do you need for this?" asked Steve.
"What I really need is to monitor her for a couple hours, but seeing as I'll have nothing to monitor if they put a bullet in her brain, we better blow this joint. Give me a few minutes to wrap up and salvage something."
"On it. Rendezvous in ten on the roof?"
"Make it five! They're on the 3rd floor and counting."
Steve ran to the stairwell and hid one fight of stair up and waited.
"Move move! Get to the roof! That's their extraction point we'll ambush them there-"
He jumped down and punched the guy in the lead over the bannister. His yelp of surprise was cut short by his impact with the stairs the next floor down.
The others opened fired with their machine guns, but the rounds clattered off the shield as if they were rain drops.
Steve swiped one guy's legs out from under him once his ammo ran out, delivering a quick jab to the guy's face resulting in a resounding crack.
He pushed one guy back with his shield, causing him to fly clear across the stairwell. He impacted the wall with a dull thud and slid down.
The last guy was desperately trying to reload his gun, while frantically yelling for back up through his coms.
Steve ripped the gun out of his grip and wacked him over the head with it. He crumpled to the ground.
With that, Steve sprinted up the stairs. Just as he burst out on the top floor, the elevator dinged and Tony appeared pushing Natasha on a stretcher.
"Where did you get that?" asked Steve suspiciously.
"Ah perfect timing! Grab her. The chopper should be here any second," said Tony, ignoring his question.
Steve lifted Natasha just as the distinctive sound of the helicopter could be heard descending faintly. Tony opened the door leading to the roof, and then slammed it shut again, his face annoyed.
"Well that's inconvenient," he said.
"What is?"
Tony rushed across the hallway and grabbed the stretcher.
"Tony, what are you doing!?" demanded Steve as Tony rushed back past him.
"That wasn't my chopper, it was their back up." he explained as he jammed the stretcher against the door, wedging it shut.
His phone beeped again, and whatever Tony saw on it made him roll his eyes.
"More hostiles. Coming up in the elevator this time. We better to take the stairs, hang on just let me…"
Tony broke the glass on the fire emergency button and pressed it. Immediately a keen wailing siren pierced the air.
"That should slow them down!" he yelled, "I had Jarvis lock the elevator door, but we better run anyway!"
Steve led the way, with Tony not far behind. They ran past the still forms of the guys Steve had already taken out without slowing. They were down to the 2nd floor when they heard a huge bang that sounded an awful lot like the bad guys had used a grenade to get in.
They burst into dark entrance foyer, and sprinted out of the building just as emergency vehicles started arriving. A crowd had started gathering to watch what all the fuss was about. Steve looked back to see smoke coming off the roof in wafts.
A team of EMTs rushed towards them with a stretcher. Steve looked to Tony, who gave him an imperceptible nod, before laying Natasha down.
"She's fine, she just fainted from the shock of the alarm going off while we were in the building-" Tony went off on a tangent that somehow perfectly explained their presence. It never ceased to amaze Steve how good Tony was at bullshitting. A minute later the three of them were in an ambulance pulling away from the scene. Steve saw a helicopter cut across the night sky, then they turned a corner and he lost sight of it.
En route Tony asked what hospital they were going to, before whipping out his phone and firing off some messages.
"When we arrive, get her and meet on the roof," Tony muttered to him under his breath while the EMT was distracted taking Natasha's vitals.
A stolen lab coat, and an elaborate distraction later, Steve pushed Natasha's stretcher into the roof where thankfully Tony's chopper was waiting.
They arrived back at Stark tower battered, exhausted, and annoyed.
"That was ridiculous!" ranted Tony stalking into Stark Tower, "That's it; I'm just going to build one. It literally would have easier if I just built an fMRI machine right here. Jarvis! Order me some antenna wires. Also magnets, the most powerful ones you can find. I'll need blue-prints, download them now-"
"You're going to build one? Right now?" cried Steve incredulously.
"Why didn't we just do that to start off with? I built Ironman. I created a whole new element for fucks sake. A meager fMRI machine should be a piece of cake. Elementary." Tony had that fevered glint of determination in his eyes, nothing would dissuade him.
The least Steve could do was make sure he didn't set his lab on fire, or make anything explode, or get so exasperated with dummy that he dissembled it.
"Do you need any help?" he asked, trying to infuse his voice with enthusiasm he didn't feel.
"Put the princess to sleep and come back up."
The rest of the night was a blur of Tony barking orders, and him lifting heavy objects. He left Tony to it once they had assembled something that vaguely resembled the sleek machine they'd used briefly.
By the time he stumbled back down to the 20th floor he was starving, but too exhausted to bother finding anything to eat. He lay down on the couch intending to rest for a moment, but he fell fast asleep quickly.
He was woken with a start by the unsettling feeling of someone watching him. It was daytime.
Steve sat up quickly, and then he saw her. She was standing in the doorway of her room and it was obvious that she too had just woken up.
She was frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. Steve stood and took a step towards her and her eyes grew impossibly wider as they raked over him.
Her hair was mussed and his shirt on her was crumpled. The top button had come undone sometime in the night and one side had fallen down revealing a smooth shoulder, and the sunlight was hitting her just so, making her hair look like fire, and her green eyes look bottomless. The overall effect was enchanting, and Steve completely forgot what he was going to say and ended up just staring at her, and she stared straight back like a possum caught in headlights.
He finally gathered his wits enough to ask her how she was feeling, when she attacked. He was so surprised that she got him really good with a right hook in the chin before he could scramble to defend himself.
She brought up her knee intending to hit him in the solar plexus, but he blocked her, so she brought up her other leg and kicked him square in the chest with enough force that he fell backwards onto the expensive looking glass coffee table, which promptly shattered to pieces under his weight.
He rolled over just in time to avoid a fist to the head, and sprang back to his feet. She barely gave him time to find his bearing after that; she was relentless, throwing punch after punch.
"Natasha!" he dodged an elbow, "-it's me!" he jumped over a low leg swipe, "Steve!" he caught a fist aimed for his throat, and she yanked it out of his grip so forcefully that she stumbled backwards into the wall.
"Just calm dow-" she pushed off the wall and leapt toward his throat. That she was even attempting this move on him was proof to Steve that she couldn't remember who he was.
She had tried it against him once when they were sparring. She never made that mistake again; he was just too big and strong for it to work.
He pushed her leg away it before could wrap around his neck, and quickly grabbed her and pulled her up so she wouldn't tumble to the floor. (It was covered in shattered glass after all.)
She tried to pull her arms out of his grip so violently that Steve was afraid she was going to inadvertently dislocate her shoulders, so he pinned her by her wrists to the wall.
"Natasha, please stop-" she tried to kick him in the shin, which Steve sidestepped.
"Listen, I know you're confus-" She tried to kick him where it would really hurt, which Steve barely managed to dodged, so he pulled her wrists higher until her toes could only scrape the ground, and pinned her body against the wall with his own in exasperation. She struggled fiercely. Steve could feel her heart thudding far too quickly against his chest, and she was beginning to hyperventilate.
"Natasha! Can you please just stop attacking me for two seconds and listen to what I have to say?!" pleaded Steve desperately.
He caught her panicked gaze and something about the look on his face must have gotten through to her because he could almost see the moment the hysteria left her eyes. Her breathing slowed to shuddering gasps and she focused on him. Steve slowly let go of her wrists and stepped back.
She sagged against the wall and slid down until she was sitting with her legs folded underneath her.
With deliberate slowness and care, Steve knelt down on one knee in front of her, mindful of the glass on the floor.
"I… I d-don't know why I attacked you," whispered Natasha hopelessly.
"Instinct," he replied with a shrug. To Steve's horror, her eyes became glassy with unshed tears. It was painfully obvious she was doing everything to hold them back.
"I nearly killed you! Your face…" she reached out a hand gingerly and Steve held perfectly still as her finger tips brushed against his chin.
"I'm fine. It's nothing," muttered Steve. Natasha sniffed and covertly wiped away a rouge tear that had managed to escape.
"Who are you? Do you know me?" she asked. Seeing her look so lost and vulnerable made Steve feel unaccountably sad.
"I'm Steve, Steve Rogers. And I do know you, we're friends."
He held out a hand. She blankly stared at it for a moment before cautiously placing her own in his.
That was the moment Jarvis chose to speak to them,
"I have informed Mr. Stark that Ms. Romanoff has regained consciousness. He has requested that you both come up to the lab when you are ready."
Natasha reacted dramatically, dive rolling behind the couch, and pulling Steve down with her, as if a grenade had been tossed into the room.
Steve ended up hunched over her small frame as she flattened herself against the couch and clung to his arm. He waited a beat for the raw panic to leave her eyes, and then spoke in low calming tones, "Natasha, there's no threat in this building. That was just Tony's AI."
"Are you sure?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yes, Tony's a friend." he replied with conviction, looking her in the eye.
She recovered more quickly this time, averting her face and hastily letting go of his arm.
"Sorry..."
Steve got to his feet and offered her a smile and another hand,
"Come on, I'll introduce you."
Whew sorry about how long that took! This is unbeta-ed by anyone else so sorry for any typos. It took me ages to be happy with it! Did Natasha react to being memory-less how you expected? Review! (Please)
