After another amazing shower, Steve stood in the middle of his bathroom, much like he had the day before. And didn't it feel crazy to realize such little time had passed? Yesterday while he'd been standing here, he'd felt so lost and broken. But now, he had a smile on his face. He was looking forward to what was to come. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't tired. There wasn't that fog hanging over his head and dampening all of his thoughts and actions.

Steve went down to his closet, settling on workout clothes instead of sweaters this time, since he was going to be training with Thor later. He still didn't know what Bruce wanted to see him for, but he didn't think the casual dress would be a problem. He did grab an oversized sweatshirt on his way out though. Bruce's lab might be chilly.

Steve pulled it on as he stepped onto the elevator, riding it down to the proper floor. He'd usually take the stairs, since elevators were too self indulgent for someone like him, but he didn't bother with that thinking right now. There wouldn't be anyone keeping track of how many stairs he took per day.

Bruce was hunched over a table when he got there, taking notes with intense concentration. Most people out there only cared about The Hulk and didn't get to see this side of the scientist. He understood what it was like to have a whole other side to you that didn't get appreciated very much. But Steve hoped Bruce knew how important he was to everyone, and not just because of Hulk.

"Hey Bruce, you ready for me?" Steve asked, hanging near the door.

"Yeah, let me just finish my thought real quick," Bruce mumbled, writing down a couple more things. Steve stuck his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, rocking back on his heels. He'd only been in here a handful of times and very briefly, so it was kind of nice to see everything that was going on, even if he didn't understand any of it. "That'll do it."

"Great," Steve said with a smile. He looked back up at Bruce and was confused by the look he was giving him. "What is it?"

"Oh, sorry," Bruce chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I sometimes forget how young you actually are." Steve looked down at his clothes, noting that this was a far cry from what he usually looked like. He hadn't bothered to style his hair either, so it was a bit more floppy than usual.

"Well, aren't I technically the oldest?" Steve pointed out, walking up to stand on the other side of the table from Bruce.

"Only technically," Bruce smirked, putting away his notes and pulling out a covered tray. "I've been thinking about your predicament with exercising that we talked about before and I think I came up with a good solution."

"Oh, well I haven't been going overboard, if that's what you're worried about," Steve said, looking down at the table. He didn't think that talk would be coming up during this visit.

"That's good, but it still got me thinking. It isn't very realistic for you to eat enough food to replace all those calories you burn, since it would take a lot. Basically, you'd almost have to spend the same amount of time eating as you did exercising to balance it out," Bruce explained. "Or you could eat a bunch of empty calories, but I wouldn't recommend that, even for a super soldier."

"So what did you come up with?" Steve asked. Bruce grinned, lifting the lid off his tray with a flourish.

"High calorie recovery bars!" Bruce announced, nodding his head down at his creation. They looked like weird little chunks of chewed up granola, but Steve wasn't going to judge. He remembered Bruce eating his food without reservation, so he would do the same.

"Wow, this is so thoughtful. Thank you," Steve said sincerely. How much time had Bruce spent doing this for him? He probably had much more interesting projects to work on, but he still spent time working on something he didn't even need to, just to be nice.

"Now, don't take this as a sign of my approval for you to start overworking yourself again," Bruce warned, shooting him a sly smile to show he wasn't being too serious. "I formulated these to your specific biology, to help you get back what you lose during an hour of training."

"That's incredible!" Steve said, smiling down at the man. Bruce really was a good guy.

"It also inspired me to formulate one for each member of the team, since we all need different things. Like I need things to boost energy since changing back from The Hulk always leaves me so fatigued. I'm going to have these available in the gym and on the jet for after missions," Bruce explained, looking proud.

"Wow, you're amazing. We are so lucky to have you."

"Okay, enough with the compliments. That's not what I brought you down here for," Bruce brushed off, trying to hide his blush. "Unfortunately, the taste of these on their own isn't the best, but I think I have a solution for that, and that's what I needed you for." Bruce moved to another table to grab a different tray, revealing a platter covered in little bowls of sauce.

"I'm here to be a taste tester?" Steve asked, looking over the different options. He recognized chocolate, but there were others he wasn't quite sure about. "You didn't have to bother. I would've taken whatever's easiest."

"Your opinion is important. I wouldn't want to give you something you don't like," Bruce shrugged, busying himself getting the pieces set up. Now it was Steve's turn to blush. He wasn't used to people caring about his opinion on anything really. Steve just took whatever Shield gave him. The team actually asking him what he liked would take some getting used to, but he could honestly say it felt nice.

"Where do we start?" Bruce had him try everything, dipping small pieces of the bars in the different options. The white chocolate was okay, but the milk chocolate was great. Caramel was a little too sweet and strawberry didn't mesh well with the bar flavor at all. His favorites ended up being milk chocolate and peanut butter, and when Bruce put them together, it was perfect.

"I'll make your first batch this flavor, then later if you'd like some variety, we can try something else," Bruce said, cleaning up.

"I don't know what I can do to repay you for all this," Steve said, sucking the last bit of chocolate off his finger.

"I'm just a friend helping out another friend. There's no need," Bruce shrugged.

"Well, Natasha and I are doing our own experiment later with a candy recipe. Maybe I can save you some?" Steve offered.

"Sounds good," Bruce accepted, shooting him a smile.

"I should probably go meet Thor now. But I promise not to overdo it," Steve assured him, tapping on the table before he turned to leave. He paused when he got to the door, looking back to ask one last question that had been hanging over him for a bit. "Tony mentioned you had a bad experience with food a while back, but you didn't hesitate to eat what I cooked you the other day. Why is that?"

"I trust you," Bruce said simply, like it wasn't a huge thing to say to someone. Steve ducked his head, not knowing how to respond. He felt honored that he'd earned that confidence and he'd do everything he could to keep it. Steve nodded at him one last time before slipping out the door, feeling like the butterflies in his stomach were carrying him to the elevator.

Thor was already jogging on a treadmill when Steve got to the gym. He'd missed the training sessions with Thor that they hadn't had since Steve freaked out on him before. Hopefully it wouldn't be awkward, but things usually weren't with the god. Steve climbed onto the machine next to him, starting off at an easy jog.

"Steven, you finally join me!" Thor chuckled, smiling over at him. "I was worried you had changed your mind."

"Of course not. I've been looking forward to this all day," Steve said, bumping up his speed. And it was true. Spending time with everyone else was great, but sometimes he didn't want to think about life or talk about his feelings. He relished in the times he was able to just use his body for what it was made for and hone his skills. And Thor was perfect for that.

"Well then, hurry up so we can really get started," Thor challenged, increasing his own speed. Steve matched it, running alongside Thor in companionable competition for the next few minutes. This was a lot easier after a full night's sleep. When they finally finished warming up, they moved to the open area to spar.

"No going easy on me this time, okay?" Steve requested, taking a cheap swipe at Thor's head that he barely dodged.

"Oh, you play dirty!" Thor laughed, bringing his hands up in a defensive position. "Reminds me of home." They traded strikes for what seemed like an hour with neither of them getting the upper hand. Steve felt that confidence he'd always had when Bucky and the Commandos were fighting by his side. He never questioned his skills, even with the meager training he'd had before he joined the fight. The serum had given him natural abilities, but it wasn't the same as being a skilled fighter. That came from hard work. And he still had a lot to learn, which he realized when Thor pulled off some sort of crazy move and knocked him flat on his back.

Steve laid in a daze for a few moments, staring at the ceiling while he tried to get his breath back. He hadn't even seen what Thor did, but it must've been good to get past Steve's defenses. Steve gasped a little, feeling what had to be a pretty significant bruise start to settle into his skin.

"Steven! Are you okay?" Thor shouted, hovering above him looking worried. Steve huffed out a breath, and then another, and before he could realize it, he was laughing. He wrapped his arms around his chest to brace himself as he was helpless to the laughter that was pouring out of him. "What is funny?"

Steve couldn't really explain it. If this had happened a few weeks ago, he'd be thinking over each second of the session, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. Beating himself up for being a failure. Resolving to punish himself with extra training and more running and no rest. But now all he wanted to do was congratulate Thor and ask him to do it again. His team's successes were his successes too, and if they could help each other grow and get better, it would only turn out for the best.

"Nothing," Steve wheezed, throwing a hand up for Thor to help him to his feet. He stood with his hands on his knees, looking up at Thor through his sweaty hair. "That was a good move. Wanna show it to me again?" They worked through it for the next hour, transitioning into other moves and showing each other little tricks they'd picked up. By the end, Steve's muscles felt satisfyingly exhausted.

"Shall we do this again tomorrow?" Thor asked, wrapping a towel around his neck as they climbed onto the elevator together.

"You're on."

Steve went back to his floor and let the showerhead beat his muscles thoroughly. He was going to meet Natasha on her floor in 30 minutes, so he was planning on taking a 29 minute shower. The temperature was set to almost unbearably hot, but it felt like heaven to Steve. The steam was so thick it was almost obscuring his vision, letting him forget where he was for a few moments. There was nothing to worry about in here, and it was nice.

He reluctantly shut off the water when he knew there was absolutely no more time left before he had to get going. He ran a towel over his body, not worrying about his hair. It would dry how it dried. Steve grabbed a random shirt and pair of pants from his Tony closet, opting for something more casual and less cozy, since they would be cooking and he didn't want to ruin anything accidentally.

Steve was actually kind of excited to do this project with Natasha. It had been nice seeing her more relaxed these last few days, instead of the snappy, tough woman she usually was. He liked knowing that she could best anyone in a fight and still come home and get excited over candy. It showed him that people didn't have to be just one thing. There were layers, and he was excited to see more of everyone's.

"Right on time," Natasha called out as soon as the elevator doors opened. Steve wasn't sure if he'd been on this floor before, so he followed the sound of her voice to lead him to the kitchen. It wasn't as spacious as the kitchen on the common floor, but everything was sleek. It was exactly how he pictured a kitchen on Natasha's floor would look.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Steve asked, eyeing a stack of pots on the counter.

"Oh no, I have no clue," Natasha admitted, tossing him a bag of marshmallows. "I think we can figure it out."

"I don't have a lot of practice following recipes," Steve commented, walking around to join Natasha on her side. "Is it complicated?"

"Just melting and stirring basically," Natasha answered, flashing him the directions on her phone. There weren't too many ingredients to deal with and they had saved the world on multiple occasions. How hard could it be?

Steve didn't even know marshmallows could explode, but the evidence was in Natasha's hair. And on Steve's face. And on the ceiling. Steve was staring at the bubbling remains in shock, trying to figure out where they went wrong. Probably thinking this was a good idea in the first place.

"I feel like that wasn't supposed to happen," Steve said, licking a glob of cream off his lip. At least it tasted good.

"Not particularly," Natasha agreed, grabbing a towel to wipe off her face.

"Let me help you," Steve chuckled, trying to scrape the mush out of her hair. It was stuck in there good and he had no idea how she was going to get it out.

"Don't bother. I'll get it out in the shower," she shrugged, setting down the towel. "I had a feeling this might not go so well, so I bought some backup supplies." She ducked down to rummage through a cabinet, pulling out a shopping bag.

"Is this gonna explode too?" Steve smirked, dodging her friendly shove.

"No heating required this time," Natasha assured him, pulling out her ingredients. She had a slab of fudge, jars of crunchy peanut butter and marshmallow fluff, and chocolate syrup. "Time to make the bastardized version." They pressed the fudge into the bottom of a pan, then smeared layers of peanut butter and marshmallow on top. Natasha finished it off with a drizzle of chocolate syrup on top, making sure to give each of them a squirt straight into their mouths. It was messy and ugly, but it was perfect. Steve cut a couple squares for them to try, taking big bites at the same time.

"It's good!" Steve mumbled around his mouthful, shooting Natasha a chocolatey grin.

"Does it taste like you remember?" she asked, licking the drips off her hand.

"Not really," Steve admitted, snagging another chunk. "These are better." They ate a few more bites, laughing at how messy they were being. This was definitely not the same as a candy bar, but Steve would choose something made with love over a random packaged treat any day.

"Should we save some of this for the team?" Natasha asked, washing her hands.

"Yeah, I actually already promised Bruce some earlier," Steve agreed, cutting up the rest of the concoction into easily shareable squares. "I was thinking of taking some up to Clint too. I felt bad earlier when we were all talking about our plans and he was left out."

"I'm sure he'd love that," Natasha concurred, sliding him a plate for him to use to take a few squares. "Anything sugar is sure to make him happy."

"Do you want to come with me after we clean up this mess?" Steve asked, looking up at the marshmallow that still clung to the ceiling. It almost blended in.

"Nah, I got this, you go ahead. I'll get this cleaned up while I let some conditioner eat this crap out of my hair," Natasha said, shooing him from the room.

"Are you sure? I don't mind cleaning," Steve said, hating the idea of leaving everything for Natasha to deal with.

"I'm sure. I'll let Clint know you're on your way," Natasha insisted, setting the plate in his hand and pointing him toward the door. Steve sighed, letting her have her way. He stopped before he left the room, looking back toward Natasha.

"I had fun. Would you want to try this again?" Steve asked. Natasha gave him one of her slick smiles, cocking an eyebrow in that way she had.

"I'd love to."

Clint's floor was the one above Natasha's, so he took the stairs. Steve was sure he'd never been to Clint's floor, so he hoped this would be okay. Natasha said she'd let him know he was coming, so Jarvis would probably stop him if Clint had a problem with it. He opened up the door and poked his head inside, looking around. Most of the floors had the same basic look to them, but for some reason Steve imagined there would be perches or something else more Clint-like around than what he saw. Everything was normal though.

"In here," Clint called out, so Steve followed his voice like he had Natasha's. Clint was sitting in his living room area, watching something on his TV. Were those puppets?

"What's that?" Steve asked, barely catching the remote that was whipped at his face with surprising speed, but predictable accuracy. "Uhh…"

"Oh crap! Sorry Steve, you just startled me," Clint panted, covering his heart with his hand.

"I thought Natasha told you I was coming," Steve said, grimacing at the thought of intruding.

"Oh, that's what Jarvis said," Clint sighed, rolling his eyes. "I tend to tune him out most of the time. And I wondered why Natasha was announcing her arrival. She usually just shows up whenever she pleases."

"And do you throw things at her too?"

"God no, do you think I have a death wish?" Clint scoffed.

"I'll try not to take offense to that," Steve snorted, tossing the remote back to the other man with less velocity than he received it. "Anyways, I brought you something." Steve jiggled the plate he was holding, which thankfully hadn't been dropped during the earlier attack.

"Is that chocolate?" Clint asked, his eyes brightening at the idea of sweets. Steve didn't know how he stayed so fit with his love of all things food.

"Among other things," Steve confirmed, walking over to hand him the plate. Clint took it eagerly, bringing it up to his nose so he could smell it.

"This looks amazing," Clint moaned, motioning for Steve to join him on the couch. "You actually got Natasha to cook?"

"It was her idea," Steve said, sitting down on the incredibly comfortable sofa. Tony really did go all out for everyone. "These didn't involve any cooking though. That part didn't go too well."

"Not surprising, since Natasha never cooks. I didn't even think she owned pans," Clint said, shoving a whole square into his mouth. Would Natasha really have bought cookware and dishes just to make some candy with him? Steve was embarrassed and flattered by the idea of her going so far out of her way to do something nice for him like that, on top of everything she'd done the night before. He needed to find a way to make it up to everyone, no matter how much Bruce insisted it wasn't necessary.

"So, what is this you're watching, if you don't mind me asking?" Steve questioned, staring at a man singing a song about trains.

"It's Mr. Rogers," Clint grinned, turning up the volume a little. "Seeing you in your sweaters the other day inspired me."

"Oh, that show you brought up," Steve said, nodding his head in recognition. "I thought this was for kids?"

"Technically yeah, but Mr. Rogers is iconic. He's got a wholesome message that is important for every generation," Clint defended, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. Not as strong as Natasha's, but close. "This was my favorite show as a kid. We didn't have a lot of channels to choose from, but we had PBS and Mr. Rogers. My brother and I would watch every chance we got."

"That sounds really nice," Steve said wistfully, thinking back to watching movies with Bucky. He wasn't technically his brother, but he was in every sense of the word besides blood.

"You want to hang out and watch some with me?" Clint suggested.

"Sure," Steve agreed, settling back to get more comfortable. The show was pretty soothing. The themes were nice and the man had a very calming presence. The puppets were kind of weird, but overall it was relaxing to watch. So much so that three episodes in, Steve couldn't seem to keep his eyes open. His head kept dipping down and bouncing back up, slower and slower each time. Maybe he'd just rest his eyes for a minute?

A quiet giggle woke him up from the nap he hadn't realized he'd been taking. Steve blinked a few times, trying to figure out where he was. There was a man tossing a shoe in the air, so it was easy to recall that he was still on Clint's floor. Speaking of Clint, last Steve had remembered, he was eating the last of his treats. But now, it seemed like Steve was using him as a pillow.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry!" Steve stammered, leaning back to give the other man space. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep on his shoulder like that. "You should've pushed me off."

"Why? It wasn't a big deal," Clint brushed off, giving his arms a stretch now that he was free. "Besides, waking up someone who's been having trouble sleeping is like moving the nest of a protected species of bird. You just don't do it."

"Wow, I guess I was asleep," Steve said, surprised at how well an impromptu nap had gone. He hadn't even needed all of Natasha's tricks this time. "I'm still sorry I trapped you like that. I hope you weren't stuck long."

"Really, it's fine. I used to fall asleep on my brother like that all the time. It was actually sort of nice to be on the other side of it this time," Clint admitted, looking a little bashful.

"Does that mean I'm kind of like your little brother?" Steve teased lightly, trying to dissipate any lingering awkwardness.

"Only if that grants me unlimited noogie privileges," Clint said seriously.

"I'd like to see you try it," Steve challenged, squinting his eyes threateningly.

"Mr. Rogers would want us to be mature," Clint pointed out, dipping his head back toward the television.

"Well, we all strive to live in his image," Steve agreed, settling back into his seat. And if they just so happened to be brushing against each other, it wasn't a big deal.