Apologies for slow postings. It's currently exam season.
It took five days for Lena to be given the all clear to let Max out of the room. It wasn't any sort of mystery as to why nearly all of the hospital superiors were hesitant to condone it, especially after she nearly strangled Bahar. They were probably worried she'd take off through one of their missile-proof glass windows never to be seen again. The rarest of things are always best kept in cages.
It started with walks. Well, walk probably isn't the best term to describe it. Max was put into a wheelchair and moved about by Lena or another nurse when it wasn't her shift. They hadn't x-rayed her leg again, but it still felt broken to her. Max could almost feel the bones shifting, but even in a mutant bird kid things that major don't disappear overnight. She had trouble bending over from the bed to the wheelchair itself and popped a few stitches in her stomach the first time. Max didn't know why, but the sight of blood felt like she had passed some sort of milestone. She was still alive.
Max held out a hand to push Lena back as she adjusted her legs on the wheelchair's supports. To be honest, she didn't mind actually being in the thing, it was just getting in and out that was humiliating. Max wasn't supposed to be taken care of, that isn't how things work. It forced her to confront the paradigm shift taking place in her life in a roundabout sort of way. Max was never one for beating around the bush.
"Where do you want to go today, mija?" Lena ashed her as she gripped the handles of the wheelchair.
Max wrote in the notebook and held it up for Lena to see. The cafeteria?
Lena snorted. "Yeah, because you're going to eat a four-course meal or something?"
Max cast her eyes downwards. There were talks of putting her on a liquid diet since she was refusing food so much; she'd even heard her condition being labeled as anorexia when they thought she was asleep.
They don't understand, Max said to herself. They'll never understand.
She wrote on the notebook once more, but scribbled it out.
Lena sighed. "Fine, alright. I'll park you across the hallway and you can stare all you like at the people who walk by, but you've got to eat sometime, yeah? Just take a bite of an apple."
Her words were soft and soothing, they made Max feel like a little kid in a way that Jeb never did. She nodded and Lena opened the door of the hospital room, pushing Max across the hallway and into the open cafeteria.
It was nothing lavish; if the interior-decorating skills of the hospital rooms told Max anything, these guys weren't big on creativity. The same bland tile covered the floors and ceiling and the logo, the bird logo, was discretely placed on almost every item from the glass partitions covering the food to the labels on the bottom of the muffins. Whatever this place is, they like their branding.
Lena put her at the end of an empty table and locked the wheels on the wheelchair. It had a nice view of both the hallway and the seating area of the room, something Max appreciated. For all of her stubbornness, she liked watching everyone else go about her daily lives. The hospital doesn't even have cable, after all.
"Alright, so gin rummy again?" Lena sat across from Max and pulled out a deck of cards. As she was shuffling them her pager began to beep wildly. Lena pulled it from her waistband and cursed. "Sorry, mija, I'll have to put this game on hold. You'll be alright here, yeah? Duty calls."
Lena stood hurriedly and put the pack of cards on top of Max's notebook. She patted Max's head before disappearing down the hallway in the direction of another room.
Max grimaced and brushed out her hair where Lena had touched it with her fingers. She began to absentmindedly wonder what her hair looked like after not being washed for a few weeks and thought maybe she should ask someone for a brush.
Ugh, Max groaned when she came to a ridiculous knot in the front portion. She was locked in heavy concentration when a voice to her left snapped her back to reality.
"You alright there?"
Max turned to see a guy she knew Nudge would have swooned over. He was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and a good jaw. His hair was blond and combed to form an immaculate swoop over his forehead. The man was classically good looking, the all-American boy, and Max could just picture the letterman jacket on his shoulder and football in his hand.
He cleared his throat and she realized she'd been staring at him for a few seconds too long. Max picked up her notebook and wrote him a message.
Just fine, thanks.
He laughed. "Good. You seemed... frustrated."
Max narrowed her eyes, irritated. Well, I'm not.
The man's expression softened. "Sorry for bothering you, ma'am."
Do I look like a ma'am to him? Max thought to herself. It nearly made her roll her eyes.
The man returned to his plate, a rather sad looking turkey sandwich, and picked at it listlessly.
Are you alright? Max held the notebook up to him.
The man laughed and his eyes seemed to brighten. "Thanks for asking. To tell you the truth, I don't really like mayo and I forgot they made the sandwiches here with them."
Fuck that noise, go get another sandwich.
His eyebrows arched upwards. "Fuck the- what?"
Max rolled her eyes for real this time and held a finger out to him, telling him to wait for a response. She held the notebook up a minute later.
Fuck that noise. It's like, "that's stupid" or "don't pay attention to that" or just whatever you want it to mean. Noise being weird stuff or bad stuff or, in this case, mayo.
"I like that. I'll make sure to remember that one," he said with a grin. He stuck his hand out for her to shake. "I'm Steve Rogers, pleased to meet you."
Max stared at his hand for a few seconds before putting her own out, gripping his tightly. She seemed to small and bony in comparison; her fingers barely reached the third joint in his. Max offered him a strained smile.
Steve's eyes widened when he felt the thinness of her hand. "Maybe you need this sandwich more than I do."
Max shook her head, nearly laughing. I hate mayo. She wrote. Then, unless it's deep-fried.
"I didn't know they deep-fried mayo."
They deep-fry a lot of things these days.
"Why would you deep-fry a condiment?"
Max shrugged. Fuck if I know.
A teasing smile grew across Steve's face. "You swear a lot, you know. Someone should wash out your mouth with soap."
She rolled her eyes. I don't even know where I am. I'm sure as hell not letting them near my mouth with anything.
"Ah, that's probably classified." Steve uncapped his bottle of water and took a sip. He pushed the tray with the turkey sandwich in front of her. "You should really eat, though. This sandwich will go in the trash otherwise."
Max put down her notebook and looked at the tray, then back to Steve as if trying to weigh the pros and cons. Pro, it's a free sandwich. Con, it's a free sandwich from them. Pro, this guy seems pretty nice. Con, so did the whitecoats and Sam and that guy who does the weather on television but is actually a gigantic asshole.
No food, no food, no food, said a voice in her head.
But I'm hungry, came the other. Max was surprised how petulant she sounded. The pro and con list wasn't doing anything for her.
Pro, she's really hungry. Con, she can't eat.
Can't eat, can't eat, can't eat. The words echoed in her brain.
Hungry, hungry, hungry-
"Here, I'll take a bite. Show you it's not poisoned," Steve said, breaking her out of her inner battle. Sure enough, he picked up the sandwich and ate a chunk off of one corner. Max could tell he was trying not to make a face at the taste of mayonnaise, but he kept up a good act.
She made a show of rolling her eyes, eliciting a laugh from Steve, who just pushed the sandwich in front of her again. Max drew in a large breath and let it out all at once; her tiny fingers went to pick up the sandwich, which was heavier than she thought it would be. She brought it up to her mouth.
Then, she ate.
The next day Steve was in the same place at the same time, eating lunch in the cafeteria alone. Max spied him from her room's window and pushed the alert button to get Lena's attention.
"What's up, mija?" She asked as she walked in from the hallway.
I want to go out. Max held up the notebook.
Lena sighed. "I've got to check some other patients soon, so I can't stay with you."
Doesn't matter. I can sit in the cafeteria.
"With food," Lena said, heavily implying that she should eat everything on her tray, unlike breakfast this morning where she left the muffin and fruit untouched but scarfed down the eggs.
With food. Max smiled at Lena, a large grin that projected an image of pure angelic innocence but only managed to make Lena roll her eyes.
"Alright. Come on." Lena said, pulling out the wheelchair.
Max tried to hide her excitement as she lifted herself into the wheelchair. She placed her notebook in her lap and folded her hands on top of it.
"All set, mija?" Lena asked, suspicion creeping into her voice. Max was unusually well-behaved today and it sent off alarms in Lena's head.
Max nodded.
It took them barely any time at all to get to the cafeteria and Lena parked her at an empty table that looked out onto the hallway. A few minutes later there was a tray of unappetizing hospital food in front of her; the mushy peas and oddly-coloured Jell-o only managing to make Max's appetite disappear completely.
"I'll be back after my rounds to check that you've eaten all of it." Lena said. "And I mean all of it."
Aye, aye, captain. Max wrote with a salute.
Lena rolled her eyes and left down the hallway.
When Max thought she was out of sight, she put the tray of food on her lap and unlocked the parking brake on the wheelchair. She wheeled herself over to where Steve was sitting and pushed the chairs aside.
This seat taken?
Steve cracked a small smile. "Of course not. Did you enjoy the sandwich?"
Max shrugged and put the tray of food up on the table. More than I'm going to enjoy this.
"That looks an awful lot like what I used to eat when I was younger. Don't knock it till you've tried it."
You ever had hospital food before? Like, not from the cafeteria.
Steve paused. "Depends on the hospital. I haven't stayed here before, just here for some tests this week."
Well it fucking sucks.
"Duly noted," Steve said, unwrapping his own lunch.
Max picked up her fork and poked at the peas for a few minutes before scribbling something down and showing it to him.
I'm Max.
"Nice to finally know your name, Max," Steve said. "How do you like the peas?"
She shot him a look that said it all. I usually eat stuff from dumpsters and let me tell you, the trash does it better.
"I can't say I've dumpster-dived before. Sounds unhealthy."
You've got to do what you've got to do.
"No parents to take care of you?" Steve asked, puzzled. He'd come across his fair share of heroes who were orphans so he wasn't going to rule that out.
God no. Just a lot of guys in white coats.
"Like scientists?"
Max reconsidered telling him the rest of the story. Telling him would mean trusting him and she hadn't even told Lena anything. She nearly stopped writing, but continued, crossing things out as she went.
It's whatever. Let's just say homelessness looks good on me. A mansion would look pretty nice too.
Steve laughed. "That's what this place is." He gestured to the whole of the building. "One big bullet-proof glass palace."
Wonderful. Max wrinkled her nose. She returned to eating her peas. Got any salt?
"Yeah." Steve reached into his pockets to pull out a few packets of salt he had swiped from the cafeteria a few days earlier. "Here you go."
Fantastic. She poured it all on the peas, mixing them together. Steve watched her, smiling to himself.
"So what do you like to do for fun?" He asked as he took a bit of his own lunch.
I don't know. Max shrugged.
"Well, what are you good at?" He replied.
She thought for a moment before writing something down in her notebook.
Fighting.
There was a glint in Max's eye that struck Steve with a feeling of incredible sadness. It was almost as if she had said the fighting wasn't her choice but she had done it anyway.
"I like baseball. You ever played?" Steve said, trying to divert her attention to something a bit more upbeat.
Max smiled mischievously and scribbled a response. Couldn't. My brothers would always cheat.
Steve laughed. "How?"
Max shook her head. Can't say. It's a family secret.
"Alright," Steve said. "You'll have to play real baseball someday. Without cheating."
I didn't say I'm the cheater. They were.
"Then don't follow your brothers. You look like you could take them in a fight."
Max looked down at herself and then back up at Steve in disbelief as if to say "you're joking, right?" Even if she could have smacked Fang, Iggy, and Gazzy into next Sunday before she'd been taken to the hospital, she wasn't going to tell him that.
Steve laughed and shook his head. "You better eat those peas before they get cold. I hear they're even worse then."
Max stuck her tongue out at him.
This carried on for several weeks; Steve would always be at the same table at the same time every day even past the point when he said the tests he needed to take were done. Max began to wonder if he worked there, if he was one of the mysterious agents that roamed the hallways outside her room.
Whenever she saw him he was dressed casually in a button-down shirt and khakis, so he wasn't a doctor or here on business. Yet when people walked past they waved to him called out greetings in excited voices. Everyone seemed to know who he was or what he did. Everyone except Max.
Are you James Bond or something? Max asked him one day.
"What?" Steve's brow furrowed. "Who's that?"
Secret agent spy guy. Tons of movies made about him and I think some books? Not sure. Always wears a really nice suit and drinks martinis while kissing the girl and shooting the bad guy.
"That's not me, but that sounds like someone I know," Steve said.
Max waggled her eyebrows. Oh really? Who?
"No one important," Steve said, casually dismissing the subject. "He gave me a ring that doubles as a dagger once."
Must be some kind of friend. Was it an engagement ring? Max was just teasing him now.
Steve nearly choked on his lunch. "He's got a girl, so I hope not."
Poor Steve. Max grinned wickedly. Do you have a girl?
She watched as Steve's expression shifted to something that was a degree off from his usual well-mannered joviality. He began to say something but then swallowed it along with a bite of his sandwich.
"I used to," he said eventually. His watch beeped lightly and he looked for the alarm button hurriedly. "It was great talking to you, Max, but I've got to go now."
Max frowned. Got another mission? Gonna save the girl?
Steve smiled sadly, patting Max lightly on the shoulder. "Something like that."
It was the next day that he didn't come back and it left the cafeteria feeling empty. Max hated to say it, but there was a sort of burning sensation in her stomach when she say that the table was empty. Lena was a friend, yes, but she also regulated everything Max did. Steve talked to her and didn't poke needles in her arm, so it was a win-win situation in her mind. He didn't want anything from her; it was nice.
She sat there with her lunch for hours, playing game after game of gin rummy with Lena, but he still didn't come. Her leg was beginning to ache from having leaned up against the bars of the wheelchair.
"You alright, mija?" Lena asked her. She watched Max fiddle with her cast.
Max nodded as she shifted her weight this way and that. In reality, her leg was probably completely healed at this point, but the doctors here were only used to normal human and their agonizingly slow healing processes. The big breaks in her bone were virtually gone and all that was left was to repair the surface, which while faster than usual was also goddamn itchy.
"You've got an x-ray scheduled in an hour, so just hold on until then. I'm sure you have a while to go before you get the cast off," Lena said.
If only Max could roll her eyes at her without receiving a light slap on her arm. She didn't want to anger the one person who was able to sneak her chocolate bars.
Do you know Steve Rogers? Mas held up the notebook with the one question that's been on her mind all day.
"Do you want to know where tall, blond, and handsome went? He was called back to work earlier today," Lena replied. "I know you think I don't know you've been talking every day, mija, but when you're around the star-spangled man himself, people get talking."
Max held up a page with simply a question mark.
"He's Captain America, the superhero," Lena said. "He's got the red, white, and blue tights to prove it. Of course he's got this weird condition, so he comes in here every so often. Kind of nice to have the eye candy around."
A superhero? Max thought to herself with a vague wave of disgust. Those were only tales told to children. They were the things Gazzy idolized and the comics Iggy had read aloud. Superheroes were never there for the Flock, no matter how much exposure they'd gotten. Back when they'd been in New York they'd even been branded as some new type of superhero when it couldn't have been more opposite than that.
She began to stew and was still thinking about Steve and if he had his incredibly patriotic tights on him at all times when they came to get her for an x-ray. She was lowered into her wheelchair and taken out of the room.
"How are you feeling today?" the nurse, a mild-mannered girl who worked in the equipment wing, asked her.
Max shrugged, ignoring the deflation of the nurse's mood. She was wheeled down several different hallways before being backed into the elevator, her head propped up on her palm. The elevator opened a few floors down and she was wheeled into a room with a series of large machines.
"Please stay still," the technician told her as she was lifted onto a table.
Max's initial reaction was that of sarcasm. Okay, dude, the injured bird kid is totally going to be the squirmy one. Makes sense.
The technician left and went behind a curtain to turn the machine on. Max would hear a slight whine like a leak in a balloon that was just beginning to let out air.
There was nothing more boring than when the doctors decided running tests was a good idea. It was all Max could do not to pull the tubes out of her arms and run so fast they couldn't catch her. Even worse, x-rays took longer than drawing blood or simply a check-up. She hated sitting there, waiting for something she couldn't see to tell her how she's feeling. She hated not knowing.
The machine was turned off and Max was returned to her wheelchair, her condition unchanged. She knew when they got the x-rays developed they would see that her leg was almost completely healed, baffling them completely. Or maybe not, considering they seemed to be unusually equipped for mutant care.
As the nurse brought her back into the elevator she saw a glimpse of blonde hair, the crisp crease of khaki pants, and launched herself up from the wheelchair's seat.
"Wait!" The nurse shouted after her as Max slipped between the elevator doors and ran with the cast knocking against the tiled floor. A drop of blood from where the IV was ripped out of her arm fell onto her hospital gown as she reached, reached, to tap the shoulder of Steve Rogers as he was leaving.
He turned towards her just as she grasped his coat, a look of complete surprise on his face to match the steaming anger apparent on Max's.
"Max-" Steve was cut off as Max launched a tightly wound fist at his face. It caught him by surprise, but even in her weakened state she managed to break the super soldier's skin on his lower jaw. It healed seconds later.
She stared at him for seconds that felt like hours, thinking about how much she hated him in this moment. How he never even told her he was leaving. How he never even mentioned he was one of them. That he was a hero. But despite all of that, she couldn't stop feeling endeared by his honest conversation and his gentle manner even when she would swear up a storm. Max couldn't get it out of her head how much he reminded her of her brothers.
She opened her mouth, her voice higher and thinner than she had remembered. "Bye, dick."
Just as a clarification, there won't be any romantic relationships in this story besides some background Tony/Pepper. Steve is more like a replacement Flock.