Steve woke up with his head pounding and the familiar sounds of a heart rate monitor beeping. He groaned. He didn't remember how he had ended up in the Avenger's medical ward again. There was a general ache throughout his body as if he had forgotten to stretch for multiple days, but other than that, he felt fine.
"I'm starting to think you just enjoy hospital beds." Sam's voice spoke from his left.
Steve sat up in the bed, refusing to acknowledge the way the action pulled at his muscles.
"What happened?" Steve asked.
"You tried to take on a god by yourself."
Flashes of smoke and screaming civilians returned to Steve. He sighed. "Loki isn't a god, Sam. He's an alien."
Sam gave him an unamused look. There was something in the tightening of Sam's eyebrows and his silence that told Steve, he had forgotten something important.
Like a bolt, he straightened further. His muscles protested the movement. "Dencia's wedding! Sam, I'm so sorry. Please tell me you went without me."
Sam rolled his eyes, "Of course, I went without you. I explained everything, but if you miss Thanksgiving my 80-year-old granny will come after you."
Steve chuckled and relaxed back into the bed. Thunder boomed outside. Through the window, he could see rain pouring onto the city.
Sam shifted his position in his seat and leaned forward. "I'm more concerned about the conversation you had with Loki," he said.
Steve stiffened. "What?"
"The deal you made with him."
Steve remembered an empty building and a conversation; he looked away from Sam. "I don't know what you are talking about," he lied.
Sam shook his head. "Loki showed the team, and Jarvis recorded it, if you need a refresher."
"It was a mistake," Steve acquiesced.
His friend nodded. "You're right. Tell me what you are going to do about it."
Steve didn't reply, and Sam shook his head with a sigh.
"Did you contact anyone on the list of counselors I gave you?" He asked.
Steve's jaw set as he replied, "I'm fine."
"People who are fine do not make ethically dubious deals with a man responsible for killing numerous people."
"It was only supposed to affect me."
There was another large sigh from Sam. "Do we really need to have another conversation about how the world's understanding of mental health and treatment of it have changed?"
Steve had no interest in repeating that conversation. He was glad others could get the help they need, but he didn't need that. He was saved from explaining because Bruce walked into the room.
"Jarvis said you were awake. How are you feeling?" He said as he approached Steve's bed.
"I'm fine," Steve responded.
The doctor's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Your body underwent significant transformation twice in the last week. Are you going to try to tell me you are not experiencing pain?"
"I can handle the pain." Bruce and Sam looked at him skeptically, so Steve added, "It's not like you can offer anything for me."
Bruce replied, "Tony and I haven't given up hope on developing a numbing agent and pain killer that will work with your metabolism."
Steve nodded and stood up to leave the room. He felt as though his muscles were too heavy for his body. His whole body ached and he was tired. Outside lightening flashed and illuminated the solemn faces on the men more clearly.
"How much do you remember?" Sam asked.
"Not much. It's all a blur after Loki," he replied.
Bruce nodded. "Your memories may come back to you as your brain continues to stabilize and heal."
"How long was I out of commission?"
Sam laughed loudly. "I heard you used your shield to smash one of Stark's windows. I'm not sure you were ever out of commission."
Steve tensed. He assumed that he had spent the time in this stupid hospital bed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "How much damage did I cause?"
"Not as much as you could have," Bruce answered. "But you and Tony…didn't get along."
Of course, they hadn't. Steve didn't like Howard when he first met him, and Tony and he clashed during their first meeting. There was something about Stark men that initially rubbed the soldier the wrong way, but he had grown to consider both Howard and Tony friends, even if he didn't always understand them.
"Where is he now?"
"He's been in the lab for the last two days," Bruce responded.
Wonderful. Tony and he had started getting along. They hadn't had a fight on the field in two weeks, but he had smashed that up again. Would he ever be the leader his team needed?
"What happened?" He asked.
"You didn't have any memories past 1935," Bruce answered.
1935.
Steve stopped in his tracks. Oh. That wasn't good.
"Did I hurt anyone?"
Bruce hesitated. "You punched Tony once, but I don't think you hurt him."
"I'll go apologize," Steve said and made to leave the room.
Sam stopped him. "I think that can wait. Give yourself some time to rest and gather your memories."
Steve agreed, but more so because apologizing to a Stark required a battle plan for any sort of success. They avoided conversations about responsibility like he avoided Jersey. He agreed to rest in the tower for the next couple of days before returning to his apartment in DC, so that they could monitor any unexpected reactions to his transformations.
He returned to his unofficial guest room. Mainly to avoid further discussions with Sam. The soldier knew that the other man spoke out of care, but Steve wasn't interested in talking with someone about things that could not be fixed. He had moved on. There was no point in dredging the past up again.
When Steve arrived at his apartment floor, Thor was seated at his table, glowering.
"Steven, we must converse about your recent decisions."
Steve sighed. Apparently, he wasn't going to be given a chance to think through his responses to his teammates. He sat down across from Thor.
"I admit my agreement was not well thought out," he confessed.
If possible Thor's face grew darker, and the thunder outside boomed louder. "It was foolhardy and unbecoming of a leader. Do you know what Loki could have done with a vial of your blood?"
Steve kept his face neutral. He had been consumed with the idea of saving Bucky to the point that he hadn't thought through the repercussions of his actions. Thor was right. He didn't deserve to be the leader of the Avengers.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Thor leaned forward. "He would have made you his slave. You would have still possessed your mind, but your body would no longer have belonged to you. You would have been forced to watch as Loki used your strength to attack this world."
The storm thundered outside. The weight of Thor's anger hung heavy in the room and Steve did not respond. He had no excuse. In that moment, he had put his own wants ahead of the world's. He knew better. Captain America sacrificed his dreams for others. He lost sight of that when Loki dangled that carrot in front of him.
Thor's face dropped in sympathy. "The guilt you carry will destroy you." The older man rose and placed and hand on Steve's shoulder. "Steven, you are a good man and a worthy leader. Do not forget who you are."
Steve nodded, but his heart was not in it.
"I will leave you to your rest."
Thor left his room, and Steve dropped his face in his hands. He was tired in a way sleep wouldn't fix. He didn't remember the last time he wasn't tired. Thor was right. His decision was selfish and now, the team was fractured again because of him. Leaders united, but then he never was much of a leader. Bucky was the one who gathered and led the Commandos; Steve was just the face. Time hadn't changed anything. He was a failure before the serum, a failure after, and still a failure now.
The clock told him it was past eleven. He decided that he would shower and at least try to sleep before interacting with his team tomorrow. After his shower, he laid in bed, but he did not sleep. His mind kept him awake as he thought about nothing. He stared at his ceiling, waiting for an acceptable time to go to the gym. Around three, he finally fell asleep.
In his dreams, he saw a metal arm defending him. There was confusion, anger, fear. There was a swirl of fearful reactions masked with anger – but he also saw Bucky. Bucky had returned.
Steve woke up with a start. Bucky had returned. How could no one tell him? Bucky had found him and protected him. The soldier threw his blanket off and slid his feet to the ground when the strong smell of chemicals reached his nose. He opened his bedroom door to find Natasha painting her nails on the couch with a look of disinterest on her face.
"I was surprised to find you sleeping after you spent the last 48 hours asleep," Natasha spoke in lieu of greeting.
Steve crossed his arms over his chest. He replied, "Were you going to tell me?"
Natasha brought her hand up to blow on her nails. "I was hoping you'd remember."
"How long ago did he leave?" Steve asked.
Natasha set her hand down and began painting the other one. Her eyes were focused on her nails, but Steve knew she was watching him.
"He hasn't," she replied like she was telling him that the weather was nice, not bringing Steve's world to a stop.
"Where is he?" Steve walked towards the door.
With a flip, Natasha landed in front of him. Her eyes widened the smallest amount. A sign, Steve knew, meant that she was feeling some sort of emotion strongly. "I need you to not barrel through that door."
"Where. Is. He?" Steve repeated.
"Steve, I know what Bucky means to you. I convinced him to stay for one conversation with you. Do you really want that one conversation to be with your emotions running so strong?" She asked.
The soldier deflated. He needed to see Bucky. He needed to reaffirm that he was alive and healthy – but he couldn't afford to mess this conversation up. He walked back towards the living room.
"How long do I have?"
"He agreed to 24 hours after you woke up," the redhead responded.
Steve nodded. "How is he?"
"He's confused and scared, but he masks it well."
His muscles pulled him down as he collapsed onto the couch. "What do I even say?"
Natasha sat next to him, "You tell him the truth. And don't expect him to be the Bucky Barnes from the 40s. He's changed. You both have."
There was silence. Natasha never asked for more than Steve could give. After a while of silent support, she grabbed her nail polish and walked towards the door.
"When you are ready, come to the guest apartment on the floor below."
