I had to...I just had to. Some of you have guessed that this is how it would happen, but I'm not sure you're prepared for just how cringe it is :)

Steve IX: Legacy

While he'd given Bucky a general idea of what he would want if given a Wish, Steve had absolutely no idea how the concept of "immortalizing the 'ol Rogers Razzle Dazzle" would look in real life. When the people from Make-a-Wish contacted his family, they didn't exactly know either. Ultimately, they ended up talking to Dr. Lee about it. He was the one who suggested it. At first, Steve laughed at the idea, thinking nobody would ever take it seriously, but then the more he thought about it the more it grew on him.

"Hey Danvers, what do you think?" he muttered to his bedroom ceiling the night after Dr. Lee's proposal. He knew she would've made fun of him endlessly if he went through with this, but she would also probably appreciate it. Steve thought about the time he led practically an entire ward's worth of children around, how warm it had felt to be that person they could look up to in such scary circumstances. Most of them had shown up expecting him, already knowing his name, and Steve hated to think what would happen to the kids who showed up expecting Steve Rogers only to learn that he wasn't around anymore. He decided to go through with it, however cheesy it sounded. Younger kids would probably adore it, and older kids could make fun of it or create memes or whatever. Steve didn't particularly care, especially given that he wouldn't be around whenever kids actually watched it.

While Bucky had to wait until summer for his Wish, Steve actually got his done before school let out. One weekend in May, he showed up at Gravesen—the first time he'd ever gone for reasons other than his own health or visiting a friend. They even laid out a red carpet at the entrance to the pediatric residential ward, which amused him. "I thought he'd be taller," Dr. Lee remarked jokingly, as if Steve was an actual movie star they'd been lucky to nab for this role. "You're in charge of this whole deal," he told Steve. "But I have to lay some ground rules. No cursing; this is for children after all. And my screen time must be limited to twenty seconds at most."

"So you want a cameo?"

"Exactly." Dr. Lee clapped him on the shoulder. "I know this was your Wish, but I want to thank you for doing it. I've seen the way the kids here look up to you, and I love that idea that they'll still be able to do that twenty or thirty years from now.

"Thanks."

Steve knew the Make-a-Wish foundation didn't mess around when it came to extravagance, but it still shocked him how dedicated they were to making this moment feel authentic. A young woman named Lorraine introduced herself as his personal assistant for the day. She seemed eager for him to put her to work, but Steve didn't know what to ask for. He didn't need anything at the moment. Then, just for the heck of it, he asked Mom to hand her the bottle of enzymes she always kept in her purse and told Lorraine to keep track of them in case he wanted a snack at any point. She seemed happy to have the responsibility.

After so many years in and out of the hospital, Steve was used to having people fuss over him, but this kind of attention was so…different. He wondered if this was how it was for actual actors making real movies or TV shows. Somehow he doubted it could be that similar, given the scale of this production. Steve doubted that what they were making here would ever be seen outside the walls of this hospital.

"Was I supposed to write a script?" he asked the director. He had a general idea of what he wanted to say, having had similar discussion with real kids over the years, but he didn't know how much they expected him to bring to the table.

"This is your project," he assured him. "We can help you decide what to say, but you're in charge. If you want to spend a few hours on a script beforehand, by all means we will do that, but if you want to improvise and do it from the heart, that's okay too."

"Okay," Steve said. "Let's get together a loose script at least. I don't want to leave anything out."

"You got it."

They moved to one of the conference rooms in the hospital and all sat down together; him, Dr. Lee, and all the people Make-a-Wish had sent. Steve told them all the highlights he wanted to hit, and they created outlines for multiple scripts. The Gauntlet was the most important to him. He wanted to ensure that he captured its purpose as Carol intended. They also set up a "Welcome to my crib" sort of walking tour, which consisted of all the same places Steve usually hit when he showed new kids around. But the most difficult to figure out was how to convey his reassurance through just words and postures. The whole point of this was that Steve wouldn't be around to hug everybody, so he needed to find a way to relay that sense of comfort and caring without physical contact.

Once they were all satisfied with what they laid out, they got to work. They even brought in hair and makeup people, but Steve wouldn't let them do anything. The whole point of this was for him to be on the same level as whoever was watching. Filming the tour was the most difficult part, since he got so short of breath walking and talking at the same time. They had to do it in chunks, but he was promised it would be edited together to look seamless. For the explanation of the Gauntlet, he read off cue cards with bullet points on them to remind him of all the key points. He knew the chart so well that he probably could have done it just from memory, but he wanted to make sure he didn't mess up. Steve knew being on his feet this long would tire him out quickly, and he didn't want to be too noticeably flagging by the time they got to the last bits.

It was easy to walk around the ward and gesture to things, or stand in front of the Gauntlet and reference the different columns, but he had no idea how to stand for the last one. The director suggested walking into frame and sitting down, so Steve tried it. Just for shits, he flipped the chair around as he went to sit and leaned his arm on its back before he started talking. "That's great," Dr. Lee told him after the take concluded. "Very hip."

"You don't think it was too stupid?" Steve asked hesitantly. It had been more of a joke than anything, but if Dr. Lee liked it, he was willing to let it stand.

"Not at all. Come watch," the director said. Steve watched the playback and couldn't help laughing at himself, so hard that it drove a spike of pain through his left lung. As stupid as it looked, he knew it was perfect. If he looked like he was taking it too seriously, it wouldn't be any fun. He watched over everything they'd shot before giving his final seal of approval. Just thinking about future residents watching these and feeling even the slightest bit more comfortable reassured him that he'd chosen the right Wish for him. It felt good to know that he'd made himself a part of Gravesen that would remain long after he passed.

"How'd it go?" Bucky asked him afterwards.

"Fantastic," Steve replied with a warm smile.

"When do I get to see the finished product?"

"When it's ready. I'll have a viewing party or whatever."

"Okay. I can't wait."

The videos weren't complete until weeks after Bucky's own wish trip and the events which had occurred immediately afterward. Steve asked if it was too late to add some more dedications, and the answer was a resounding, "Of course not." He gave them the names, and they promised to include them.

Mom got the email with the final versions before Steve did. She burst into his room in the middle of a vest treatment to tell him the news. Steve immediately texted all his local friends to ask when they'd be available to watch it, and they set the date for the following weekend. For people like Thor, Natasha, and Wanda, he just sent them the video digitally so they could watch it on their own.

"Leave it to Steve to use his Wish to make himself a movie star," Tony said a mere two seconds after Steve opened his front door to let him in. He sat down next to Parker, who'd shown up a few minutes earlier. Jim, Timmy, Gabe, and Bucky had already taken their usual spots in the living room. It was more crowded than Steve had ever seen it. Once everyone was settled, he had Mom cue up the videos. Steve himself was still yet to see the final product.

"What exactly is this again?" Timmy asked.

"It's Steve's way of making sure he's never forgotten at Gravesen," Bucky answered.

"More or less," Steve said as he hit play. He was not expecting the title screen that popped up, but he immediately fell in love, if only because he was picturing all the colorful things Carol would say about it. It read, "The 'Ol Rogers Razzle Dazzle," in a whimsical font, with the subtitle, "featuring Steve Rogers." Tony and Bucky chortled at the sight of it.

"This is gonna be good," Tony remarked.

"I can't believe you used your Wish for this," Bruce said. "It's incredible."

"There will be audio at some point, right?" Nick asked.

"If you all would be quiet, you could start listening now," Steve said. The tour had begun. They were right when they said they would edit it to look seamless, but Steve had insisted they keep at least one coughing fit in. He wanted a realistic portrayal of himself. He was beyond happy with the final product. The same went for the Gauntlet explanation.

"Hey, there's my name!" Parker pointed out. Sure enough, his name and all his Xs were visible on the chart, along with Carol's, Steve's, and Bucky's.

"I didn't realize they focused in that close. Hope you don't mind," Steve said.

"Not at all."

Now came the real kicker: the final video. Steve had decided he liked the second version better, the one that had included the chair flip. He had no idea how his friends would react to this one; he'd really poured his heart into it, attempting to strike a balance between humorous and genuine. The room fell silent as the clip opened on an empty chair in the middle of the main hallway of the pediatric residential ward.

Steve stepped into frame and reached out to turn the chair around to sit in it backwards. The effect was exactly what he wanted it to be: this is what he would look like if he was actually there alongside the other patients.

"So…you're in the hospital," he began. His first words were barely audible over the continued snickering of his friends after the chair flip. Steve rolled his eyes and shushed them. "You're sick and probably scared out of your mind. And that's okay. Nobody wants to be here, and it's okay to be scared or angry or sad. But I'm here to tell you that, even though I felt all those things every time I came here, I founds things about this place that weren't so bad.

"First, your nurses are your own personal superheroes. Not only do they take care of you, but they're there for you whenever you're feeling sad, lonely, or afraid. I know sometimes they have to do things that aren't fun, but trust me when I say they want nothing more than for you to be healthier again. Everything they do here is just to make you feel better."

That was the moment Dr. Lee chose to have his cameo. He walked into frame and put a hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve looked up at him with admiration shining in his eyes. He never understood how that man ran such a large, hectic hospital with such grace and efficiency, and still made the time to do things like help Carol deseed a watermelon in the middle of a workday. "A pediatric nurse carries more love in their heart than just about anybody else on the planet," he said to the camera.

"Ain't that the truth," Bucky huffed.

"Favorite nurse? Go," Parker prompted.

Tony and Parker both said, "Happy," right as Steve and Bucky said, "Peggy." Nick claimed, "Maria," and Bruce chose, "Sharon." They would've continued the discussion, but Steve shushed them again because the video continued.

Steve turned back to the camera as Dr. Lee left. "He's right. I've yet to meet a single person here who doesn't have their patients' best interest first and foremost in their hearts. Now, I have to tell you a secret." He leaned in closer to the camera as if whispering. "The common room has almost every toy and game you could possibly imagine. And you're allowed to play with them whenever you feel up to it. Even better, they bring dogs here every week for you to hang out with if you want.

"Lastly and most importantly, you have each other. I don't know how many patients might be here right now, but if you have neighbors, take the time to say hi to them. Ask them how they're doing. Trust me, they'll appreciate the gesture. I met some of my best friends in the whole world right here at Gravesen." At that line, Tony and Parker both looked at him with tears in their eyes. Steve smiled and nodded. The video concluded with a series of dedications: the names and photos of people Steve had been thinking about while making it. Scott Lang. Carol Danvers. Clint Barton. And Pietra Maximoff. Most people in the room were crying by the time it ended. Steve had wished for a way to continue helping his fellow Gravesen residents, and they'd gifted him a legacy.

~0~

Later that summer, Steve got admitted again. At this rate, he was looking at three to four admissions a year. His lung function dwelled deep in the recesses of the tank, lower than he'd ever seen it before. Dr. Erskine was hopeful they could get it back up a bit, but whether that hope was founded or not remained to be seen. On top of that, he also developed the mother of all sinus infections, so bad that Erskine warned another would probably result in him needing sinus surgery, and he was instructed to do nasal rinses at least once a day indefinitely even after discharge to prevent such an eventuality.

Steve expected the ward to be more crowded, but there was hardly anyone around. It seemed all the kids who'd been here last time had gone home at least for now. Based on the gauntlet standings, it appeared some of them were completely recovered from whatever had placed them in the hospital last November.

For that reason, he didn't expect to see anybody but nurses around. However, one morning about halfway through his stay, a group of three kids around his age wandered into the common room while he was there watching a rerun of Ancient Aliens to bide the time until his next breathing treatment. Ever since Carol admitted it was one of her favorite shows, Steve found himself hoping it was on anytime he turned on the TV here. It was one of the stupidest things he'd ever watched, but it made him feel close to her. Having heard no signs of new patients moving in and seeing no visible signs of illness in any of the three people, Steve wondered why they were here. "Hello," he said hesitantly. All three of them were staring at him like he just rose from the dead or something. It freaked him out. "Can I help you?"

"We were just here visiting a friend downstairs," the smaller of the two boys explained. He held hands with the girl while the other boy stood a few paces away.

"Oh, okay. So you're not new patients?"

"No."

"How'd you end up here?" Steve asked. They were still staring at him funny, the girl especially.

"A nurse sent us up here to…destress."

"Okay." An awkward silence ensued. The three of them just stood there by the door to the common room, still staring at Steve as if he was a celebrity whose name they were trying to remember. If they were visiting a friend in the hospital and had been sent somewhere to destress, things must be bad. Steve tried to think of a way he could help distract them from whatever was going on. "Have you guys ever played Catan?" he asked.

"Yeah," the smaller boy said. The other two nodded. Steve got out the game and started setting it up at the table while the three sat down in the empty chairs. Even as they helped him lay out the hexes, cards, and numbers, they still looked at him funny.

Still curious as to why they'd been sent here of all places, Steve asked, "Have you guys ever been here before?"

"To this ward or Gravesen in general?" the boy asked.

"Gravesen in general."

"Yeah, a couple times actually. I've had multiple surgeries to stabilize or repair joints," he explained. Steve looked at him in sympathy. "I have Ehlers-Danlos, so they're overly flexible." He demonstrated by bending his wrist so far backwards that his fingertips brushed his forearm.

Steve winced in sympathy. "And your friend downstairs, if you don't mind my asking, are they alright?"

The girl shuddered and moved in closer to the boy, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's my little brother. He was being a stupid teenager. Now he's down in the burn ward with second and third-degree burns over most of his body."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope he's doing okay."

"He's better than he was yesterday," she sighed. She fixed her eyes on Steve again with that inscrutable glare. "It's so weird. You look just like him."

"Really?"

"It's uncanny. If it weren't for the fact that I know he's downstairs and doesn't really look like himself at the moment, I would've thought you were him when I first saw you."

"Wow." All three of them stared at him again in silence, until Steve coughed and then suggested they start the game. "I'm afraid I didn't catch any of your names."

"I'm Reed," the smaller boy said. "And this is Sue and Ben."

"Got it." They finished exactly one game before a nurse Steve didn't recognize showed up to tell them that their friend was awake again and asking for them.

"Bye. Thanks for playing," Reed told Steve. "Get well soon."

"Thanks. I wish your friend all the best." Steve had never been down to the burn ward before, but he guessed it must be an awful place. Skin was so vital to the functioning of a human body, that for it to be severely damaged over enough surface area was incredibly dangerous. One time while helping Dad bake muffins, Steve hadn't realized the oven mitt had a large hole in it and burned his hand on the pan. It was barely a second-degree burn, but it bothered him more than any of his CF symptoms ever did. He couldn't imagine that kind of pain and irritation over his entire body. Hopefully, Sue's little brother would pull through and get to go home soon.

~0~

On the very same day Steve got discharged with his lung function returned to baseline, Sue popped onto the ward to tell him that her little brother got to go home. "That's great!" he said. Over the past few weeks, he'd been thinking nearly nonstop about the group of friends. He knew how much it hurt to worry about a friend's well-being, and he loved to hear that Sue's brother had completed this arduous step on the road to recovery. Hopefully, he'd never see any of them again within the walls of this hospital.

So...you worked in a reference to an already obnoxious canon plot point in the most obnoxious way possible. And, as if this chapter wasn't crazy enough, popped in a meta Fantastic Four cameo.