I do not own any of the named/recognizable characters present. They belong to Marvel. Other recognizable things belong to their respective owners. This was written purely for fun.
There are a few tidbits of information from the 2011 Captain America film here.
As soon as they stepped off of the elevator and into the penthouse, they were hit with the delicious aroma of garlic bread and tomato sauce. Tony felt himself grin; Steve knew how to make the best spaghetti dishes. He had laughed at the irony the first time Captain America had made the meal for the team, given that it was an Italian dish, but he supposed spaghetti had been an American staple even in Cap's time.
Still, he liked to give the soldier a hard time. "Smells good, capitano," Tony called from the living room as they made their way toward the kitchen.
Even as Pepper was giving him a reproving look, Steve's voice called back from the kitchen. "Grazie, Signor Stark." The accent was just slightly off, but the deadpan humor was clear as day.
Tony rolled his eyes, but was relieved when he spotted the smile on Bruce's face.
Steve was standing at the stove when the three of them turned the corner into the kitchen, stirring a pot of what was probably the pasta sauce. He was dressed down, wearing a t-shirt and jeans instead of the pressed slacks and button down he normally wore. Tony knew that the only time Steve ever really dressed down was when he was either working out or had just finished with a mission or assignment.
And when the soldier turned away from the pot to look at them, Tony could see fatigue on Steve's face. Even with the super-soldier serum, which gave the guy the drive to successfully complete mission after mission in a war, he still needed some time to recuperate. Obviously, he had been very busy with SHIELD since Tony had last seen him.
Still, that exhaustion was something Tony noticed only because he had been working with him since the Invasion, so it wasn't completely obvious to the others that he was tired.
Steve easily hid it behind an earnest smile as the trio stepped into the kitchen. "Hey there," he said in greeting. His eyes dropped momentarily to Bruce before he looked back up at Tony and Pepper. "I was going to ask JARVIS to let you guys know when dinner was ready. It won't be done for maybe another ten minutes."
"It's fine, Steve," Pepper replied, stepping forward into the kitchen. "You should have called one of us and we could have lent a hand. Do you need help?"
Before Steve even had a chance to respond, Tony stepped further into the kitchen. "Or we could have just ordered take-out instead of you immediately starting dinner as soon as you got back," he said, his tone casual but honest. He walked to the table and sat down, returning the stare coming from the soldier. "Have you even taken a break since you got released from SHIELD?"
The only sound in the kitchen for a few moments was that of the bubbling pots on the stovetop. Steve and Pepper both stared at Tony in silence before Steve drew a breath and returned his attention to the sauce. "You're surprisingly astute today…" he replied with forced nonchalance. He stirred the sauce for a moment before he went on. "But I think I can finish making dinner without passing out," he concluded with a dry tone.
"Um…" Three pairs of eyes went toward the source of the voice, where Bruce was still standing tentatively in the kitchen doorway. Tony had half-expected the kid to have followed him over to the table. The boy remained where he was and looked up hesitantly at Steve. "…would you like some help?" he asked, voice soft.
Steve stared down at the little boy, and if Tony didn't know any better, he thought he saw something like guilt flash through the soldier's eyes. He remembered seeing the same expression before he and Bruce had taken off from the helicarrier close to two weeks ago, when Steve had been seeing them off.
The second Tony recognized the emotion, though, it was gone.
A smile crossed Steve's face. "I'm just about done, but if you'd like to keep stirring the sauce, I'd love your help."
As Bruce smiled, Pepper approached the table to grab a chair. "Well, if Bruce is helping you with dinner, Tony and I will take care of the dishes," she said, depositing the chair next to the oven. She offered the boy a hand, which he took with a grin, and she helped him up onto the chair.
Steve started to object that he could do the dishes, but a quelling look from Pepper very quickly put a stop to his protest. When he sighed and returned his attention to the stovetop, she smiled in satisfaction and went to go sit down next to Tony at the table.
Steve handed over the spoon for the sauce, which the child took it with care. Bruce patted the man's hand consolingly. "It's okay," the boy reassured the man. "The first rule I learned here is that Pepper's the boss."
Both Steve and Tony laughed at that, and Pepper just smiled to herself. Tony lightly bumped shoulders with her, still grinning. "It's less of a rule and more of just a way of life," he remarked.
Bruce turned to grin over at Tony, and when he turned back around, Steve was smiling down at him. "I'm glad to see you're doing better since the last time I saw you," the soldier said to the child. He paused to stir the pasta in a different pot. "Clint said he really enjoyed his time here. Did you two have fun together?"
A wide grin spread across the kid's face, and Bruce launched into telling Steve about when Clint had come over. Steve listened with rapt attention, and Pepper stepped out to change out of her work clothes and into something more comfortable. Tony remained where he was, listening to Bruce and watching the two of them at the stove interact. While Steve was pulling the garlic bread out of the oven, Tony started to set the table, which Pepper helped with when she got back.
By the time that they were all seated and eating, Tony saw that some of the tension had vanished from Bruce's body. The boy wasn't as relaxed as he had been down in the lab, but it was as good a start as any. Conversation flowed easily between the four of them, and the atmosphere felt warm and welcoming.
"So how long of a break do you have from SHIELD?" Pepper asked at one point, lifting her glass of water for a drink.
Steve finished chewing the bite of spaghetti in his mouth and swallowed before answering. "I'm not due back for three days," he answered, "so I thought I'd come by here, see how everything was going."
"Everything's fine," Tony replied. He glanced over at Bruce, who was nibbling on a piece of garlic bread, before looking back at Steve. "We've just been hanging out, in and out of the lab. We took a trip to the zoo a few days ago."
The soldier looked thoughtful for a moment before he gazed at the little boy sitting next to Tony. "You probably haven't seen very much else of New York then, huh?" he asked. When Bruce shook his head, Steve went on. "Would you like to?"
An expression of surprise flashed across Bruce's face at the offer, but beneath it was a layer of excitement. The boy had spent a large amount of time staring out at the cityscape those first few days here, so it had to have been a compelling offer to finally get a chance to actually explore it.
As the kid looked to Tony and Pepper for permission, Steve added "If Pepper and Tony say it's okay first, of course."
Tony glanced over at Pepper. "It's cool with me," he said.
"It's perfect, actually," Pepper replied. "We still haven't had that meeting with the heads of departments about the decisions reached in DC last weekend. We could get that taken care of tomorrow." She paused to turn her gaze over to Steve. "That is if you're okay with watching Bruce tomorrow."
"And if Bruce is fine with hanging out with you tomorrow," Tony added.
Steve blinked, and then looked over at Bruce, who was looking up at him. "I'm okay with it," the soldier answered.
A smile crossed the child's face. "Me too," Bruce responded, which brought a smile to the soldier's face.
"Then it's settled," Pepper said with a smile of her own, and they all settled back into the easy conversation as they finished their meal.
Once the dishes were done and the leftovers had been properly stored, Bruce went off to take his evening bath and Pepper excused herself to go get everything prepared for tomorrow's meetings. Tony had groused about spending the entirety of the day in meetings, but it was mostly for show. He knew he had been neglecting his Stark Industries responsibilities and that he really did need to make up for some lost time.
With Pepper and Bruce gone, Tony was left with Steve in the penthouse. They moved out into the living room and sat down on one of the sofas, silent for the moment. As they settled, Tony realized that a heaviness had grown in the air and that the light-hearted atmosphere from dinner had disappeared under a layer of tension.
Finally, Steve looked over at him. "How is he doing?" he asked softly.
Tony took a moment to analyze the concern on the soldier's face before he answered. That same element of guilt was sneaking back into Steve's expression. "He's coming along," Tony responded. "He's opening up more and more every day, but there's still a lot he's not saying." He paused to glance back toward where Bruce had disappeared to.
He was still looking away when Steve's next question came: "And how is the antidote coming along?"
Tony felt his shoulders slump minutely. He sat back with a sigh and looked back at Steve. "I keep running into roadblocks," he admitted, though he was loath to.
He was about to go on, but the guilt on Steve's face flashed a little brighter, and Tony couldn't ignore it any longer. "You know this isn't your fault, right?"
Steve's eyes darted to the far wall and he squared his jaw. "I gave Hulk the order to get closer to Arnolds," he replied.
"And we all heard you tell him not to get too close," Tony reminded him, staring directly at the team leader. "You never told him to go take care of Arnolds himself. It was Hulk's decision to take out Arnolds on his own when things were getting heated, and honestly? The Bruce part of the Hulk's mind probably knew that he'd have a better chance in surviving Arnolds' chemical contraption than the rest of us, and he made his call. And given what we now know, had anyone else been exposed to the chemical gas, they would have died. So he not only saved the hostages that were being brought to Arnolds, but he saved Arnolds himself." Tony paused to shift his weight just slightly on the cushion, but never looked away from Steve. "You can't tell me that he didn't make the right call."
"He did," Steve said in agreement, breaking his gaze away from the wall to look over at Tony. "But what if he's stuck like this?"
That thought had crossed Tony's mind far too many times since he had started working on finding an antidote. And each time he started to feel grief weigh him down, like he really had lost his friend, he had pushed himself harder into his work.
"That's not going to happen," Tony said fiercely, but despite the intensity of the words, he knew that Steve could hear the underlying uncertainty clear as day. "There is a way to fix this. If Arnolds found a way to actually make it happen, I can sure as hell find a way to reverse it."
Steve stared at him for a long moment, eyes going over each feature on the engineer's face. "And if not?" he asked again.
"Not an option, Cap," Tony replied, looking away and over at the powered-down TV on the wall. "Bruce is going to be turned back to normal, and then he is going to scold you for ever doubting me." When Steve snorted a laugh, Tony grinned and looked back over at him. "Until then, we have an awesome kid who is finally starting to be himself and open up. For now, all we can do is encourage that."
Once the four of them were together again, they played a board game to pass the evening. They played in teams, with Tony and Steve pitted against Pepper and Bruce. There was laughter and fun, and the longer the evening went on, the more relaxed Bruce became around Steve.
And the longer the night wore on, the further the guilt in Steve's eyes seemed to disappear in favor of just enjoying the company he was surrounded by. When Bruce had hugged them all good night—Steve included—Tony knew that the two of them would get along fine tomorrow.
By the time Bruce had woken up the following morning, Pepper and Tony were already in a different part of Stark Tower, taking care of Stark Industries things that would keep them busy for the remainder of the day. Steve had been given a run-down of information that would help him in babysitting Bruce (a phrase he was still trying to come to grips with).
Without Tony and Pepper around, Bruce was quiet. Steve had never really known Dr. Banner to be the center of attention like Tony could be, per say, but it was still a little unnerving to see how differently the boy behaved without the pair around. That wasn't to say that the kid didn't like him; it was just that he wasn't as vocal or outgoing without Tony and Pepper there.
But, Tony had said that Bruce was still learning to relax. If the kid hadn't completely relaxed around Tony yet, who had been there for him since he had been turned into a little boy, then Steve supposed that it was okay for Bruce to be a little quieter around him. After all, he needed to encourage Bruce to relax a little more and open up.
They had a simple breakfast of eggs and toast, in which Steve taught Bruce how to make scrambled eggs. The impromptu cooking lesson was surprisingly nice, and Bruce soaked everything in with the same ease of his adult counterpart.
It wasn't long before they were ready to leave the tower. The temperature was lower than average, as it had rained overnight, but the clouds were breaking as the morning progressed. Still, it was chilly enough to warrant the need for long sleeves. When Bruce came back from his room with his shoes, Steve was relieved to see that whoever had bought the kid clothes had thought ahead and gotten a jacket.
Steve smiled when he spotted the dark blue hat in the boy's hands. "Did Tony get you a hat?" he asked.
"Yes," Bruce answered as a wide smile appeared on his face. He held it up for Steve to see. "It's from the zoo." He pointed to the sea creatures around the logo on the front of the hat. "We got to see all of these animals in the aquarium there. It was really cool."
"That's great," Steve replied with a grin, even as he popped his own plain black ball cap on his head. He finished putting the sandwiches he had made into his backpack and grabbed the rest of a stale loaf of bread. "The clouds are still trying to break up, so the sun won't be out in a few hours. I can put your hat in my bag until then, if you don't feel like wearing it right now."
After Bruce's hat was placed inside his bag and Steve slung the backpack on, he grinned down at the boy. "Ready?"
Bruce returned the grin. "Ready."
They took the elevator down to the lobby, which was mildly busy at that time of morning. Still, no one spared them a second glance as they walked out of the building and onto the New York sidewalk, where there was a decently-sized crowd walking by.
Almost immediately, Bruce's hand found Steve's. When the soldier glanced down, he found a small note of nervousness on the boy's face. He gave the tiny hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled when Bruce glanced up at him. "Don't worry, Bruce," he said easily, "we'll be fine. I'm not going to let you get lost."
Bruce looked back at the mobs of people going by before he glanced back up at him and nodded.
Hand-in-hand, they walked away from Stark Tower and further into the city. Bruce marveled over the height of the skyscrapers, and looked completely wowed when he saw just how big Stark Tower was. Steve pointed to the ramp near the top and explained that that was where Iron Man took off from.
They wandered around the city, looking at architecture and into the windows of different stores. They paused at street vendors to gaze over merchandise and paused more than once to watch the street performers or artists they came across.
A few hours later, they made their way toward the entrance of the park. It was right around lunchtime, so there were a few folks in business suits wandering around on their lunch break, but for the most part, it was fairly quiet for a Thursday.
As they were crossing the street to head into the park, Steve saw a pretty large puddle of rainwater standing in front of the curb. Steve could certainly step over it, but it was far too big for Bruce. When he looked down, he saw that Bruce had come to the same conclusion.
A quick peek back up the crosswalk signal showed that they only had a few more seconds before traffic would start moving again. Steve looked down at the kid and bent over a little, offering the boy his forearm.
When Bruce looked up at him in confusion, Steve smiled. "Hang on tight," he said.
The boy tentatively let go of the man's hand and wrapped his arms around Steve's offered forearm, clasping his hands together tightly.
They reached the edge of the puddle. As the other pedestrians passed by them and hopped over the puddle, Steve quickly double-checked that the boy's grip would hold. "Okay, here we go," he said, and lifted the boy off of the ground.
Bruce made a sound of surprise and shut his eyes in momentary fear, but his grip remained firm. After another moment, though, he hesitantly opened his eyes to look down at the ground as Steve stepped over the puddle and up onto the sidewalk.
Steve carefully set Bruce back down on the ground. "There we go," he said above the sound of traffic now moving behind them. When the boy didn't immediately unclasp his hands from around his forearm, a pang of concern went through the soldier's body. "Bruce?" he asked worriedly.
That worry quickly dissolved as soon as a delighted laugh escaped from the boy. Bruce looked up at him with a huge grin on his face, eyes alight with something that Steve only saw rarely on Dr. Banner's face. It took him a moment to realize it was childlike mirth, the same expression he had seen the previous night when they were all playing that board game together.
He was having fun.
Steve felt a brilliant smile cross his face as Bruce finally released the arm that he had hung from.
They found a park bench that was unoccupied and dry and had their lunch, chatting about everything they had seen so far. As they were eating their sandwiches, a small flock of pigeons landed not far from the bench.
The soldier saw that the boy was watching them as he picked a little bit at the crust of his nearly-finished sandwich, but he never tossed the breadcrumbs to the birds. Steve kept an eye on Bruce, who continued to stare at the pigeons with a hint of longing on his face.
Steve's eyes went to the birds for a moment, and then he pulled a strip of crust from his own sandwich and broke it into smaller pieces. It still rubbed him the wrong way sometimes to waste food like this, but at least it was still being eaten by something. He tossed a piece of the bread out to the pigeons.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce sit up a little straighter in surprise and glance up at him, but Steve continued to watch a bird gobble down the bread. Once the other birds from the flock started to make their way over to their bench in the hopes of getting more food, Steve held out his hand to Bruce, where there were three more pieces of bread crust. "Would you like to try?" he asked.
Bruce looked away from Steve's hand and up to his face, like he was making sure it was okay. Steve offered a smile of encouragement, and Bruce's face immediately lit up.
The boy carefully plucked one of the bread pieces and threw it a little clumsily toward the birds, but the pigeons were happy to hop after it. Bruce sat back and watched with a content little smile on his face, lightly tapping the toes of his shoes together.
Frankly, it was adorable.
Smiling to himself, Steve polished off the rest of his sandwich and reached into his backpack. He pulled out the bag of stale bread that he had grabbed earlier that morning. There was maybe a quarter of the loaf left, but it would be plenty to keep the kid occupied for a little while. "Here," he offered, setting the bag down between them. "Go ahead and finish your sandwich, and then you can feed the birds."
Bruce peeked at a portion of the bag that showed how many slices of bread were left.
"It's already stale," Steve explained when it looked like Bruce wanted to protest that it was a waste of food. When the boy glanced up at him, looking unsure, Steve smiled reassuringly. "It's not very good for people anymore, but the birds would love it."
The child grinned and took another bite of his sandwich. Within a few minutes, Bruce had finished his lunch and was happily feeding the pigeons.
Steve watched, taking in the pleasant atmosphere and occasionally lobbing a piece of bread when Bruce offered him the slice he was breaking apart. He had brought the stale bread along for this reason, since Steve enjoyed feeding the birds in the park while he sketched. On days when the weather was nice and he had some time to kill, he would come here and enjoy the fresh air.
As the crowd of birds hopped closer to their bench, Steve felt a smile appear on his lips. He reached into his bag and pulled out a sketchbook and graphite pencil. With Bruce otherwise distracted, he started to capture the scene.
Steve started to lose track of how much time they had remained there, but he never heard a complaint from the little boy next to him. The longer they sat there with Bruce feeding the birds, the larger the group of birds became. Steve looked up at times to see a passerby give their bench a wide berth so they wouldn't scare away the army of pigeons, all while watching Bruce with a warm smile on their face.
It was maybe twenty minutes later when the sound of flapping wings broke his concentration. Steve looked up in time to see the massive flock of pigeons scatter off when a group of joggers came running down the path. He took a moment to glare after them before he glanced down at Bruce.
Bruce's eyes were lifted skyward, following the birds' departure, and there was a tiny frown of disappointment on his face. The kid slumped back against the bench a little as he looked back at the empty path in front of him, where there were a few breadcrumbs that hadn't been eaten yet.
The kid must have felt Steve watching him, for he looked up and over at him. Their eyes met, and Bruce smiled a little wryly, but the smile was forced. "It was probably a good thing they flew away," Bruce said softly, and then he gestured at the bag of bread, which was now nearly empty. "That was an awful lot of bread."
Steve cracked a grin, which made the boy's smile widen a little and become more genuine. "Probably," the soldier agreed. "Otherwise they may have followed us all the way back to the tower, and Tony would have had a fit."
Bruce laughed at that. His eyes found the sketchpad in Steve's hands and gave it a curious look.
Feeling the same sort of bashfulness that he hadn't been able to shake since he was a kid himself, Steve scooted a little closer and tilted the sketchbook for Bruce to see. He tried to fight off the mild blush that heated his cheeks when the boy's eyes widened and he made a small astonished sound.
"You did all of these?" Bruce asked, tearing his eyes away from the page for only a moment to look up at him.
Steve nodded, and they both looked back at the sketches. "Yep," he replied.
The page was littered with different rough sketches instead of one full scene. There was the lamppost across from them, the tree to their left, a woman with a stroller who had passed by maybe half an hour ago, and others.
But the majority of the sketches were of Bruce and the birds. He saw Bruce smile when he spotted the drawing of the smaller pigeon that the boy had favored when tossing the bread out. There was a sequence of sketches that portrayed the child breaking apart the bread before throwing off a piece into the crowd of birds.
"These are amazing," Bruce said, eyes lingering on a sketch that Steve had captured of the boy in mid-throw. "I didn't know you were an artist, too."
Steve shrugged a little. "It's more of a hobby than anything," he admitted, "but it's something I've been doing since I was about your age."
"Do you draw when you're not being a superhero?" Bruce asked, finally looking away from the sketchpad and up at the man next to him.
A small laugh escaped from Steve and he smiled. "Among other things, yes," he answered. His eyes roved over the markings on the page for a moment before he glanced back at Bruce. "Do you like to draw at all?"
"A little," Bruce replied, frowning marginally, "but I'm not any good at it."
"I'm sure that's not true," Steve said with a smile. "All it takes is practice." When Bruce didn't say anything for a lingering moment, he lightly nudged the boy and was relieved to see the small smile that rose to the kid's lips. "I could show you how I do it," he offered.
"Really?" Bruce asked, looking back up at him with hopeful anticipation in his eyes.
Steve gave the boy a bracing grin. "Absolutely. I have some supplies in my room at the tower. We can draw after we get back, if you'd like."
He carefully closed the sketchpad and slipped it back into his backpack before he looked back down at Bruce. "Are you ready to keep going?"
Bruce smiled and nodded. "Yes," he replied.
After they cleaned up and tossed out their trash, Bruce's hand found Steve's again and they walked leisurely through the park. On their way back onto the city streets, there was another large puddle blocking the walkway.
Steve didn't even need to say anything when he offered Bruce his forearm again. The boy was already grinning widely in excitement and quickly clasped his hands around the soldier's arm. Steve felt himself grin, which only grew when Bruce let out a whoop of laughter once Steve lifted his arm and Bruce's feet left the ground.
As Steve continued to let Bruce dangle from his arm even after they had safely passed over the puddle, he could hardly believe that this was the same kid who had silently clung to Tony on the helicarrier. The little boy who had looked like he had wanted to disappear when they had met was now laughing freely with childlike glee over something that seemed so simple. It was astounding just how far this kid had come in nearly two weeks.
He found himself smiling contentedly right along with the boy, even long after he had set Bruce back down on the sidewalk and they continued on their way, hand-in-hand.
"You like to read about history?" Bruce asked in a hushed voice.
Steve looked away from the shelf of books he had been glancing over and down at the little boy, who was seated on a stepping stool in the middle of the aisle.
His decision to come to the library had been one for multiple reasons. One, the books he had checked out were due back in a few days, and he would be back out of the country by then. Two, he had finished reading all of said books and would like to have something to read while on the long flights abroad. The third and most important reason had made itself known when Bruce told him about the books he had been reading in Stark Tower. Steve really should have known that little Bruce would have loved to read.
Now, after they had spent some time finding some books for Bruce to take back with him to the tower, they were in the history section of the library.
Steve smiled a little bit and nodded. "I do," he answered quietly before he started to look back at the books that broke down the major cultural highlights by decade. "I'm still trying to catch up on all that has happened."
He immediately regretted his words when he saw Bruce's eyebrows furrow over his confused eyes. Thankfully, Bruce kept quiet about it while Steve found two more books. They went up to the front desk to be checked out, and were soon back outside.
By that point, the clouds had finally broken enough for the sun to come out. While Steve was putting the books into his bag, he handed the child his blue hat, and before long, they were walking down the sidewalk again, hands together.
Given how quiet Bruce had become, Steve knew that the boy was still pondering over his words. It wasn't long before the child finally broke his silence.
"Steve?" he asked softly, sounding unsure of himself for the first time in several hours.
"Yes?" Steve prompted, already knowing what was going to be asked and still not sure how to explain it.
Bruce was quiet for a few moments longer, and when Steve glanced down, he silently cursed that he couldn't see the boy's face. "What did you mean when you said you were catching up?" Bruce finally asked without lifting his head.
They were in the middle of a busy sidewalk, not at all the best place to have this kind of conversation. Steve hesitated for a moment. "It's…kind of a long story," he finally admitted, keeping his voice low enough for just the boy to hear. They kept moving with the crowd down the sidewalk on their way back toward the tower. "I can't go into it too much out here, but I'm not all that familiar with all that has happened in the past few years."
He happened to glance down in time to catch the child's silent nod.
Steve hoped that the conversation had ended there. They paused a few times to watch one of the dozens of street artists that lined the sidewalks, and Bruce seemed to liven up again.
As they were walking up the steps to enter Stark Tower a little after three o'clock, Bruce glanced up at him. "Thank you for taking me around the city," he said with a content little smile on his face.
Steve returned the smile and held the door open for the boy. "Thanks for coming along with me," he replied. "It's nice to have some company. It was fun."
The lobby had calmed down a little as the day had worn on, but there were still small groups of people milling around. They made it to the private elevator and Steve let the bio-reader take a scan of his palm before the doors opened. He bit back a grin when he saw Bruce curiously eyeing the scanner as they stepped into the elevator.
"Welcome back, sirs," JARVIS greeted them once the doors had closed and the elevator started to lift them back to the penthouse. "Sir requested that I deliver a message regarding plans for the evening meal, since he is still in the frame of mind that you have not yet grasped the mechanics of the cellular telephone."
Steve rolled his eyes even as a huff of laughter escaped from him. "I am perfectly capable of working a cell phone," he replied. "What's the message?"
"Sir has declared that dinner will be delivered at approximately six fifteen tonight, and that the evening will consist of, and I quote, 'bumming around and watching a movie'."
"That sounds fine," the soldier said. He glanced down at the boy standing next to him. "How does that sound to you, Bruce?"
His question trailed off when he looked at the boy's reflection in the doors, since the bill of his hat hid his face when Steve looked directly at him. There was a contemplative expression on the child's face, his eyes cast downward in concerned thought and something else he didn't immediately recognize. Steve was suddenly reminded of the many times he had seen similar expressions on Dr. Banner's face while he was working in his lab. The similarities were jarring.
"Bruce?" he prompted softly.
The sound of his name seemed to bring the boy out of his thoughts, and Bruce glanced up at him. "You were brought to the future, too, weren't you?" he asked in a low voice.
Suddenly, that unknown expression became clear as day. Steve realized that it was understanding, and it hit him that this boy probably did have an understanding of the situation, even without being told about the circumstances. Tony had mentioned that Bruce was remarkably bright for his age; Steve hadn't realized that the boy would have been able to deduce that he wasn't from this time period with only a few hints.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Steve met the boy's curious gaze. "In a way," he answered.
The elevator doors opened, and they kicked off their shoes and removed their hats before they moved together to sit on the sofa. They were both quiet for a moment, both absorbed in their own thoughts, before Bruce's soft voice broke the hush.
"Is Tony trying to send you back home, too?"
It was the child's tone that made Steve hesitate before answering. There was curiosity laced in each word, but there was also anxious hopefulness. "No," the man finally replied, meeting Bruce's gaze once more. The answer made Bruce look down at the floor. "It's different, Bruce," he went on with gentle caution. "I wasn't brought to the future like you were."
Oh, it felt strange to be explaining it to the boy like this. He felt like he was lying, but how could he explain to the child that he was supposed to actually be a grown man right now?
He forged onward. "It's a long story," he said again, leaning forward until his forearms were resting against his knees. "I was actually born in the 1920s." He bit back a grin when Bruce's eyes immediately shot to him in disbelief. "You've heard of World War II?"
The boy nodded a little, looking transfixed.
Steve nodded once and continued. "Well, I was a soldier for the United States in that war. I was on a mission that I shouldn't…" He swallowed. "…that I shouldn't have come back from. I woke up to this." He gestured vaguely toward the window, where the Manhattan cityscape was displayed proudly. His eyes remained there as he went on. "But I wasn't suddenly brought to the future; I was asleep for a very long time. I can't go back."
When he glanced back at Bruce, he found that the boy was staring at the floor. The child had drawn his legs up toward his body and had wrapped his arms around his shins, but he wasn't actively trying to shrink away into himself. He looked scared and thoughtful, more thoughtful than any four-year-old ought to look.
"What if Tony can't send me back?" Bruce breathed.
Steve felt something in his chest tighten. "He will," he replied. He managed a smile when Bruce peered over at him with uncertain eyes. "Tony's a genius. If anyone can figure it out, it's him."
Bruce glanced back down at the floor, and Steve was relieved to see that some of that fright had disappeared. "Tony is really smart," he agreed softly. "He's the smartest person I've ever met. He's smarter than…" He paused, and then went on in a voice so quiet Steve's enhanced hearing almost missed it. "…he's smarter than Daddy."
"He's definitely one of the smartest people I know, and he'd never let me live it down if he heard me say that," Steve replied dryly.
A hush fell over them then, and while it was still tense, it wasn't smothering.
"Do you miss it?" Bruce asked, voice just barely above a whisper.
Steve thought about all of the faces he had drawn again and again since he had woken up. He thought of Bucky, of Peggy, of Howard, and of the Howling Commandos. "I do," he admitted softly.
But then he remembered the other faces that he had started drawing alongside the ghosts of his past, and against his will, he felt himself begin to smile. "But I've met a lot of new people, and made some new friends that I never would have met if none of that had happened." He smiled over at Bruce. "I got to meet Tony, and Pepper, and Clint, and all of the others that I work with now. And I got to meet you."
Bruce ducked his head and glanced back down at the floor, looking bashful for a moment before he looked thoughtful again, and the expression was tinged with sadness. "I miss Momma," he said in a low murmur, and Steve could hear the longing and heartache in the boy's words. But before the soldier could say anything, Bruce returned his gaze to Steve's eyes. "I'm happy I'm here with all of you, and everyone's been so nice and I've been having a lot of fun, but I miss Momma."
Steve nodded and looked off across the room. "Yeah," he replied, the word leaving him with a long sigh. "Yeah, I miss them, too." The two of them remained quiet for a few suffocating moments before Steve's eyes drifted to the large flat-screen TV mounted into the wall.
He snorted a laugh. "If some of them could see the technology there is today, though, they'd have a fit." He gestured at the television. "Back in my day, those things were much smaller."
Bruce smiled a little. "Yeah, Momma and Daddy's TV is a lot smaller," he admitted, looking across the room and uncurling himself to sit properly on the couch. He looked back at Steve with curiosity on his face again. "What was it like back then?"
Steve leaned back against the sofa. "It was a lot different," he replied before he started to get into some of the stories he had from another lifetime. There were stories of the double-dates Bucky had dragged him to, followed by an explanation of the kinds of dances that were popular back then.
His descriptions were obviously lacking, if Bruce's puzzled expression was anything to go by. "Sorry," Steve finally said with a sheepish laugh, finally giving up on trying to explain the kind of swing dancing Bucky would do with the girls he took out. "I never actually learned how to do any of these dances, let alone explain them or actually dance them."
Bruce giggled softly to himself. "It's okay," he replied. "When Clint was here, he brought up a screen and we watched movies on dancing." He glanced up at the ceiling. "Do you think we could do that again, JARVIS?" he asked.
"Certainly, young sir," the AI replied, even as a holographic screen materialized in midair before them.
Steve saw what website was currently on the screen and felt himself frown. "I was told to stay away from Youtube," he said slowly without taking his eyes away from the screen, like something bad would happen if he did.
"It's okay in safe-mode," Bruce replied, smiling reassuringly up at Steve.
"And I am able to filter your search results further to ensure that nothing…unwanted appears," JARVIS supplied helpfully.
"Okay…" Steve said reluctantly, but his worry was unfounded. With JARVIS keeping the violence, profanity, and obscenity away, he and Bruce were able to easily find videos of swing dancers. Those videos eventually led them to watching a few on tap dancing, and somehow or another, Steve found himself sitting back against the sofa with Bruce, watching a Fred Astaire film entitled The Band Wagon, which was one of the films he hadn't seen before.
As the movie progressed, it became obvious that their journey through the city and emotionally-draining conversation afterward had worn the little boy out. But even as Bruce was slowly falling asleep, Steve couldn't help but feel like they had left their conversation about the past behind them and were focused on the now. Right now, the sun was shining brightly beyond the windows and had chased away any lingering shadows of gloom. Right now, there was a good movie to be watched, filled with good music and even greater dancing.
But more than all of that, right now, they had the company of someone else who understood what it meant to be in a time that wasn't theirs, but they could still enjoy it like they belonged there.
Bruce was sleeping peacefully by the half-way point of the film, and Steve felt himself relax more fully against the sofa, letting the calm and tranquil atmosphere envelop him. This was the present. This was the now.
It was actually pretty nice.