At the moment there is no pairings planed for this just to let you know. Sorry for the belated update, it's been a very busy few months.

I don't own the Avengers or anything else referenced in this, just my plot (or lack thereof).

"What am I going to do?" Steve asked, miserable.

"Stay here of course." Came a new voice from across the room and a fairly young middle aged man with brown hair, a goatee and wicked smirk walked into view. "Name's Tony, mi casa es su casa and all that; my home is already open to all sorts of odd and dangerous strays, you'll fit right in."

Steve couldn't help but stare at the other man, slightly stunned. Stay here? He supposed he could, it wasn't like he could go home and there wasn't anywhere else to go. And who else better to understand the problems he was having then other...creatures like him.

Though, speaking of that, Tony looked completely normal; completely human.

Aware of his scrutiny, the man in question just raised a brow and smirked causing Steve to flush, embarrassed. Or it felt like he blushed...could he still blush now?

"Tony!", Erskine admonished, though he sounded resigned. "You are not supposed to be in here yet."

"Relax Doc," Tony replied, taking another step into the room. "I'm staying over here, out of reach and downwind for the moment so to speak. Just figured we're going to have to test out the warm-blooded thing when conscious and rational so why not now? It's not like he would have an easy time trying to overpower me."

"You are playing with fire." Erskine cautioned, clearly uncomfortable. "He has just woken, must you also test his self-control?"

"It's one of my favourite pastimes." Tony replied with a toothy grin.

Listening to the pair bickering, Steve assumed they were talking about him and while he wasn't entirely sure what the downwind comment was about, he guessed whatever it was concerned his new status somehow. He knew that they were not trying to be cruel (or at least that was his gut instinct) but he got the impression that he was being unconsciously viewed as a deaf lab rat. He was drawn from his thoughts when the olive skinned man took a few steps closer.

The movement caused Steve to stiffen as once he got within a few meters distance he immediately could smell iron, heat and...food. As the scent registered, he unconsciously licked his lips and felt his incisors lengthen before his stomach growled embarrassingly loud. Oh he was suddenly ravenous and Tony (and it had to be Tony) smelt so damn tasty. It took a few attempts but within a minute he was able to push the hunger down.

"You smell good." Steve commented dryly and as nonchalantly as he could after a moment. "Very good. Um, I don't suppose either of you happen to have another glass of cow's blood on you, would you? I'm suddenly really hungry."

"Success!" Tony brightened and fistpumped before he turned to Erskine. "That's a good start, but I am becoming more convinced that he's no more dangerous when awake then anyone else that lives here. Just when he gets hungry-angry (or huangry) he's more instinctive; he just needs to be kept well fed..." Then he turned back to Steve and began to ramble, "so you liked the cow's blood? Was there much difference between it and the human? Would you be willing to try any other kinds? While cow is personal favourite, sheep is also quite good..."

"It was good." Steve replied slowly, "though that it was blood I was eating was a little disconcerting...Um, there was a slight difference in taste and sure I'll take whatever you have handy, I'm hungry."

"A higher metabolism..." Erskine murmured, pen scratching on Steve's file as Tony quickly vanished and then reappeared with a tray of sippy cups. "and eyes go red when hungry..."

This was unknown ground, Steve reminded himself as he sipped from one of the new cups slowly, experiments were necessary for all that they made him feel like a time bomb.

Eventually Erskine was able to shoo Tony out of the med bay though not before he further tested Steve's limits by getting close and 'accidentally' cutting himself, hated the tasty of fish blood and discovering that he could eat 'normal' food but only in very small quantities before his stomach rebelled. Once the door closed, the Naga sighed and turned back towards Steve before shrugging.

"For all that he is among the oldest and strongest that I know, sometimes he acts like an overgrown toddler." He commented wryly before undoing the ankle restraints. "Anyway, I think that after all of that, we can be rid of these for now. If you begin to feel...less like yourself we can come back or try to find another solution."

Steve nodded before he turned sideways so his feet were dangling off the side of the bed and then gingerly getting to his feet. There was a moment if vertigo as if he stood too quickly and then Steve stared around the room in surprise.

It seemed, it seemed off ; the sense of wrongness niggled at him until he realized that nothing was at the height it should be or he was taller...

Then it hit him.

His hand flew his back to trace where his spine used to bend but his fingers couldn't find it at all, it was like his scoliosis...his spine was straight!

But that wasn't the sole thing that had changed. He had been so wrapped up in what had happened and what he might become that he hadn't noticed how different his world suddenly was. He had no idea how he hadn't noticed how easy it was to hear Erskine, Jarvis and Tony when they were talking to him; that he hadn't had to ask them to talk on his left side (his hearing side) or speak up but he hadn't. He looked around the room again, his expression changing from perplexed and confused to one of delight as with each passing moment he noted more and more changes.

His astigmatism was gone and it seemed he was no longer a deuteranope, each detail of the room sharp and clear and vibrant with colours he had only a name for before: he could see blue-green glass jars, light blue sheets, orange sanitized containers, bright green pillows, pink scrubs and red, lovely red bed frames, books, and vials of blood. Before the world had largely been a kaleidoscope of yellow, dark blue, brown and grey as one who was red-green colourblind and it was almost overwhelming how different the world looked. He took a deep breath and couldn't help the elated laugh that came out or foolish grin that seemed to stretch only wider. Oh he could breathe, his lungs working like they never had for him before, each breath coming easily...it was a little bit of a shame that he didn't need to breathe so often now.

He supposed that he was now anaemic in an entirely different way but he couldn't bring himself to care as his heart problems were gone, his senses were heightened and he could breathe.

Steve looked over at Erskine and asked a little breathlessly if they had a mirror nearby.

They had a full length one in the bathroom and when Steve opened the door, he stopped dead in his tracks. That couldn't be him. He turned his head to look at Erskine and the tall, muscled man in the mirror turned his head as well to look at a Naga...so he slowly raised a hand then another and slowly came to terms that he now looked like he could've been carved out of marble or popped into being from an anatomy guidebook.

Hell, he could probably run a mile now with his lungs and non-flat feet!

"Holy shit." He breathed, disbelieving; unable to look away from his reflection. "Holy shit!"

Not really one for vanity, Steve allowed himself to stare in shock for only a few minutes before he forced himself to move on. Erskine, in the meantime, had used to the time to both give him privacy and to fetch him some scrubs to wear and a hoodie rather than the openbacked smock he had been wearing.

Accepting the clothes, he took off the smock with increasingly shaky hands and dropped it and the scrubs to the ground. He then steadied his hands on the sink and looked at himself in the mirror again (he was so tall and his freckles were gone!); it was almost too much to take in.

(It was too much.)

The changes were wonderful, a miraculous cure he'd dreamed of since he was a kid and knew what those pitying expressions meant, but they weren't something he'd decided or agreed too. This new body was not one he'd volunteered for and, if he was completely honest with himself, he isn't entirely sure he would have chosen this for himself if he'd a choice. For all that they were largely positive changes, he was now a creature that survived off blood, one who could possibly snap and go into a frenzy and it was rather unlikely that he would be able to recover any part of the life he had built for himself.

He hadn't dared ask yet; it seemed as if deep pit opened up in front of him at the thought of finding out and caused his stomach to sink right down to his toes. Soon he would. Soon he would be brave enough to find out everything. Like how many days had it been since he was attacked? Did they think him missing? Kidnapped? Dead? Were the Commandos worried...of course they were. They were his family and his best friends since they had met in kindergarten. Poor Jacques was probably wallowing in guilt, thinking (unfortunately correctly) that if he'd been able to pick Steve up that he would be with them. He hoped the others prevented him from shouldering that; it wasn't his fault! How could he have known that his coworker would go into premature labour and that failing to get Steve would cause him to be attacked and transformed into a terrible monster?

Because that's what he was now. A terrible blood-sucking creature who would, like as not, hurt or kill someone in a moment of inattention.

Realizing that he was on the verge of a panic attack, he twisted his expression into a reassuring one in the mirror and took a steadying breath.

"One thing at a time." He told himself before picking up the dropped clothes and putting them on, "don't go borrowing trouble. No one knows how you will and won't be affected by this. Maybe you'll be able to go back to your bookstore and friends with a slight dietary adjustment. Maybe not. One thing at a time. You can do this Steve."

Thus clothed, he steeled himself and left the bathroom and gave an admittedly shaky smile to the waiting Naga.

"So, where to?" He asked.

Where to was the kitchen.

It probably took more time than necessary as Steve couldn't stop looking or pausing to admire the decor. The hallways were painted in warm fall colours with many paintings of all sorts (from Neo-Classical to Impressionist to post-modernism) hanging from them and the occasional alcove with a piece of pottery or sculpture nestled there. The art enthusiast in Steve couldn't help but stare as many appeared to be original pieces he had never seen before including a stunning Monet and an enormous Botticelli painting that went from ceiling to floor.

Eventually, Erskine took him by the hand and tugged him alone while inquisitively asking what had had him so startled before. The good doctor was fascinated to discover further how the vampire's bite had changed him and began to ask questions, largely focusing on how his vision had changed. When Steve struggled to described colours before and after, the Naga gave a small laugh and admitted he was a little envious as he while he was not terrible nearsighted as snakes are, he sees the world as they do, in infrared.

Their discussion was paused when Erskine turned down a narrow corridor and opened a maple wood door, allowing the smell of baking and the chatter of voices to reach his nose and ears. The kitchen modern and was more warm fall colours with brown of both dark walnut cabinetry and table top and light honey-maple floors, granite counter-top, pale amber and white tiling backsplash, creamy white walls and sleek silver appliances.

But the decor didn't hold his attention long as the three other people in the room did. There was a fairly tall man with dark curls, glasses and a dark purple shirt with the sleeves rolled up cooking something delicious on the stove while seated at the table watching was a tawny gryphon and a beautiful lady with dark brown hair and bright red lips. He would've thought the woman to be human if it were not for the long nine tails absently waving and twitching behind her and the russet fox ears poking up through her curls.

Having heard them, the cooking baritone stopped his story to greet them.

"Hello Abraham," he said before he saw Steve and gave a small laugh "and hello to you too Steve! The Doctor has seen fit to release you from the depths of the infirmary has he?"

Steve shyly nodded, unable to take his eyes away from the pair sitting at the table; it was still a little hard to believe that this was happening and seeing what would have only been myths to him before sitting peacefully at a table was a bit mind-boggling.

"So Steve, the fellow cooking is Bruce, the lovely lady is Margaret though she prefers Peggy and" the Naga said gesturing to each in turn as he pulled out a chair for himself and sitting before continuing playfully, "the overgrown bird is James though we all call him Rhodey."

Rhodey (after making an indignant sound and a sportive attempt at snapping Erskine's gesturing hand at being called a bird) made a series of clicks and whistles. Peggy then said "Hello, pleased to meet you. He also says Hello and that you're looking better."

Before Steve could say any of the questions that popped into mind at that, Bruce explained. "In order for you to understand the less human-like among us, you'll need to drink some dragon's blood." He then turned off the stove and began to dish first some of the pasta then some pesto chicken into bowls to give to those at the table before continuing. "Which, among its other properties, allows the drinker to understand the speech of 'birds and beasts'. Though be forewarned, most animals do not have much to say and chickens are idiots, don't listen to them. We would've given you some immediately but thought that, given your circumstances, it might be best to wait before giving you more to cope with. It was also thought it would be best to give you time to work on your self control before giving you any kind of blood belonging to some type that lives here."

"Oh." Steve said, somewhat at a loss. "Thank you...wait. A dragon?!"

"Yes," Peggy said, biting her lower lip as an amused smile spread across her face. "A dragon. He's a bit of a pain in the ass but is quite friendly in his own way. In fact, Rhodey here is one of his closest friends."

Rhodey let out a few amused clacks with his beak before giving a few chirps and a whistle.

"He says, you see a Naga, a Gryphon and Kitsune together in a kitchen eating chicken pesto pasta and what surprises you is the dragon?"

Steve pulled out a chair of his own, a bit separate from the others, by the counter and near the door (out of smelling range and an easy out) and slumped into it. He numbly accepted a sippy cup of blood that Bruce pulled from the fridge and slid his way, beginning to sip at it while the other grabbed the last plate and went to sit down as well. As he passed, Steve caught a whiff of his scent.

Unlikely the infirmary, the kitchen was filled with a plethora of smells (rather than just the sharp smell of sanitizer and medicine) and Steve was only a little hungry which seemed to dull his sense of smell. But in that moment, he smelt iron and food (like he had before) but where Tony's blood sang off heat, Bruce's smelt...sharp. Angry and wild. He stiffened, feeling the slightest bit of fear before the moment passed and Bruce sat down between Peggy and Rhodey.

He wasn't sure what the other man was, wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask really, but it definitely wasn't human.

Deciding to leave it as a mystery until Bruce chose to tell him, Steve leaned back on the stool so he was leaning on the wall and watched as the four friends began to eat. It was a little surreal seeing a Gryphon, Naga, Kitsune and whatever Bruce was eat and debate the newest Game of Thrones episode while eating their food.

How was this now his life?

I can post descriptions of the various mythological creatures that will be appearing in this, would that be something you as a reader would like?

Peggy – Kitsune
Rhodey - Gryphon

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