The man, not the legend.

*Verity gets a nod.*

Chicken soup, yes. And a glass of orange juice.

*Steve is getting a stern look.*

That's it? No meat, no cheese, no beans and rice? No protein at all? Any vitamin C? Shards, no wonder you're sick, your body's eating itself to fight off this infection. You're lucky you don't also have scurvy, yet. Scurvy. In the Nexus.

*She shakes her head, diving back into the duffel and coming out with an IV bag and assorted implements.*

I'm going to start you on a nutrient bag and some vitamin shots, and when Verity gets back with the soup you're going to eat it, and then we're going to talk about what your meals are going to be like for the next little while. Clear?

*By her tone, she isn't really asking for permission. She swabs a spot on the back of Steve's hand with disinfectant before wrapping a hand around his forearm and squeezing a little to get the veins to pop up.*

You're going to have to let me put the needle in. Antiviolence field.

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She'll take the silence from Steve as consent and, after giving his shoulder another squeeze, heads out to get things. If she's lucky, she'll miss the needles but not the meal plan; she has a feeling she'll have to help Steve remember it.

She's glad she brought some cash with her; a few well-placed tips now will ensure smooth service later.

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Okay, that tone is making Steve defensive. He's not some kind of kid, here. And he's been taking care of himself for a long damn time.

"There was meat and cheese in the pasta. And I wasn't exactly well enough to go out and get any fruit the last few days, alright? I can take care of myself." There isn't exactly anywhere to storm off to, and that is probably the only reason Steve continues to sit in his chair.

"Needles, sure, whatever. Just stop acting like I'm incompetent when I'm doing better than I ever did back home." For one, there was money to afford food that wasn't severely watered down or old. Steve's practically spoiling himself by comparison.

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Thank you.

*The needle goes in clean, with barely a sting, and in short order is hooked up to the bag already drip-feeding nutrient-rich fluid down the tube.*

I asked for a complete list, Steve. Things in with the pasta would have been relevant. If I seem brisk right now, it's not because I think you're incompetent, it's because I think you're close to dead.

*As she speaks, she digs out a small tool that looks a little like what doctors of Steve's own era might use to check someone's ears or eyes--a cylinder to hold and a head of some kind. She loads a small bottle of liquid into the base of the cylinder, however, and presses it to the side of Steve's neck. There's a soft hiss and a slight tingle.*

While Verity's not here, I want to ask you something, and I'm going to ask you to hold down your initial reflex and just answer me honestly. I'm literally an alien, my values are almost completely different from mid-twentieth century Earth's, and the only thing I might judge you on is dishonesty.

That said, you've mentioned that you'd prefer to be in the company of those soldiers risking their lives on the front lines--you made a point of mentioning the risk of life, in fact. You're in a very strange place, cut off from your home Facet for at least the time being, and you were just at a party that highlighted the strangeness you find yourself in. Feelings of dissociation and depression would be natural.

*Her eyes meet his, incisive, clear, penetrating, but not cruel, nor judging, nor even pitying.*

So: was this an attempt to kill yourself?

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"What th-no!" Despite the preamble Steve only seems to be more upset by Samus' question. He's distracted enough by the thing being injected into his neck not to jump to his feet, but there's a fire in his eyes.

"I tried to be careful. I dressed warm, I had a meal, I stayed away from alcohol or streneous activity and i didn't even have an attack. But I caught a bug at the party, simple as that. Even when you're careful, shit happens. This isn't the first time, won't be the last unless it kills me, which I don't think will happen since I was able to go out and walk around today for the first time in a few days. I'm not dying, and...and..."

He looks the other way.

"Bucky'd kill me if I took th'easy way out. No way I'm signing off willingly."

Edited Date: 2015-11-10 02:46 am (UTC)

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*Samus moves back enough to give Steve room to spring up, but her gaze seems to be divided between him and the reflections in her glasses. When he's done, she gives a slight nod in satisfaction. When she speaks, her tone is even and calm, trying not to edge over into patronizing.*

Thank you, I believe you. And it's good to know. Now, please, sit down again, because you did get very close to dying, and enough stress could still push you over.

*She gives him a moment to decide whether or not he's going to do that.*

Verity's asked me to help you get your health back, and I will. If I have to put on my armor, get some kind of shrinking magic, and go into your body to personally kill every foreign microbe, I will. But I don't like to waste my efforts, and I prefer to respect people's own decisions about their existence where possible.

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"Wh..what? Oh man, I should have thought of all the weird other world germs." Steve sighs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. Not the one with the needle in it.

"I don't want to die. I might not look like it but I try really really hard to take care of myself."

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Usually, the AV field keeps people safe from disease until they leave the Nexus, but it seems you have all the luck.

*She rolls her eyes, then consults the readouts in her visor, which may look like more of the same.*

It looks like you've been working with extremely limited resources, which I can certainly respect. What I find harder to respect is the idea of ignoring the much greater resources now available to you, so don't do that. I gave Verity a general vaccine and a boost-colony for her gut flora, so she won't get sick visiting different times and places, or eating the things she finds there. I could give you the same, keep this from happening again.

Edited Date: 2015-11-10 04:11 am (UTC)

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Speaking of resources--there is a knock on the door.

"Hey, guys? It's me. The door locked when I left."

She's got a tray and it's not heavy or anything but the soup is getting cold. (There's a big bowl of chock-full-o-stuff chicken noodle soup for Steve and a small dish of oyster crackers, a glass of orange juice, and a pot of tea with milk and sugar for them all to share.)

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"It's...not as though I'm ignoring it. You don't know what you don't know."

He's being a good patient again, at least.

"I did get an inhaler for my asthma though. Those things are so much better." Painkillers for the constant pain from his scoliosis will be nice too. He hasn't been to a drugstore, to be more honest, someone else got him his inhaler.

The rest of Samus' offer only sort of makes sense, so Steve's just dumbly nodding along.

"Oh, Verity's back..."

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An inhaler is good. Hold on.

*Rising, Samus goes to the door to let Verity in, moving aside or taking things as her friend seems to prefer. Opening the door also lets her see what Verity got.*

Nice work.

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"This is starting to be a habit," she murmurs to Samus as she steps around the Hunter to set the tray down someplace safe.

"Hey, Steve. What do you want first: soup or juice?" See how nice she is? You get a choice! "I wasn't sure if you prefer oyster crackers or saltines, so, I hope I chose wisely."

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"Hi." Steve looks small already, but in the big chair he's in, all tucked in with a blanket and the IV hanging next to him, he looks positively tiny right now. And resigned to his current state of affairs.

"Uhm. Juice?" He already ate the muffin not that long ago. Might be safer to start with drinks.

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*Samus closes the door behind Verity, and while menu choices are being made, she goes back to digging in her bags.*

Verity, would you tell Steve a little about the medicine I gave you after France? It might make more sense from a relative contemporary.

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Poor Steve. Still, better small in a chair than sick on the floor. She'll hand him his juice before she sinks down to sit on the floor in front of him.

"Ah, Samus is offering you the gut flora special, is she? And I bet that doesn't really make sense. Basically, we've all got colonies of different kinds of bacteria--good ones--that live in our digestive systems. Samus is offering to introduce some new, stronger ones. They keep you from getting sick so easily, and from getting drunk, and help you digest food more efficiently. Given how little you eat, that last one ought to be a selling point, right?"

She delivers the explanation with a smile. She's had the treatment and she's fine. It's obviously nothing to worry about.

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"What if my body doesn't take to them very well? Then what happens?"

Steve's no sucker. There's always a downside. But he doesn't seem upset about the explanation. Rather, it helps him understand what questions he should be asking.

"..Thanks for the juice, by the way."

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Then I give you an antibiotic to kill the lot, and we try a different grouping.

*So matter-of-fact. She doesn't seem upset that he has questions, either, if that was a worry.*

It's unlikely to disagree with you, though; while your immune system's showing some strain, it's still there and active, and the colony set you'll be getting is formulated for Earth-descended omnivore hominids. Ah, they'll also be your first line of defense against harmful bacteria in food, from spoilage or different sanitary conditions than you're used to.

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"You're welcome. I know it's a lot to take in, and if you need time to think about it that's fine. But I really recommend it. It's helped me so much already. But then again, I do seem to be collecting these treatments. I've had three already this year."

And again, perfectly fine. Perfectly healthy (physically) (except for her eyes) (that he can see). "And no, I'm not a hypochondriac, I just like to be able to go places."

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"I guess that's fine then. No reason not to." If it stops this from happening as often, who is he to argue, really. And to be honest, trying to follow exactly what they're talking about is hopeless.

Maybe Verity can show him how to work his new brick electronic device since he's stuck in his chair? That doodle app she has better be on his.

"So...are you a doctor too then?" Exactly what Samus' job is is lost on Steve at the moment.

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*Samus gives Verity a puzzled glance.*

Three?

*Steve's accession gets a nod, and the next thing she digs out is a small kit that should be quite familiar to Verity by now; a case marked with something not unlike a caduceus, inside which are another hypospray, a bottle of liquid for it, and another bottle with a few green pills. Samus loads the former and gets out one of the latter to put on Steve's plate. His question gets a shake of her head.*

Nothing like that, I've just had to patch myself up often enough that I've picked up the basics.

*She pauses a beat while she considers that statement.*

The basics for where I'm from. Now, full disclosure, you're going to feel a little bad for a few days after this shot because of it. It takes your body a little time to adapt to the new antibodies. Ready?

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"You, Blaze, and I got a flu shot back home." She gives a little shrug. It didn't seem like a bad idea to get the flu shot while it, you know, existed?

Yes, she remembers this routine and watches quietly. Samus' awful answer gets a sigh. "She has plenty of training for this kind of thing. And yes, some first-hand experience. Anyone who can talk shop with the doctors where she's from should be trusted with what's basically over-the-counter stuff for them. When she says 'a little bad', trust me, it's not more than getting a vaccination from the doctor. A little soreness, you might be warm, but honestly right now you probably won't notice."

If Steve's finished his juice she'll take the empty glass and pour the tea. "How do you take your tea?"

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"Guess they can join the club of whatever's already kicking my butt." Verity's right, with how he's been feeling, another day or two of this isn't going to make much of a difference to him.

And if it's worse, at least it will get better after? Samus seems like a good person, all alien comments and really blunt questions aside. Best to just let her do her thing.

The tea question makes Steve look up.

"I..uhm..I don't know? Milk and sugar, I guess..."

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Oh, no, Steve, no. These are your new armaments; your troops just need some time to retrain.

*He aspires to the army, so she suspects the military metaphor will be clear. While Steve and Verity work out the tea situation, she's unpacking other things: from the case that she had Verity plug in, a small box covered with vents that hums softly and creates a fresh-smelling (and sterilized) breeze, some lights that look a little bit like stunted lightsabers, some kind of filter, and a screwdriver. These last two she takes to whatever air conditioning vent the hotel has, unscrewing the cover plate and mounting the filter behind it before putting it back up.*

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The metaphor even gets a smile from Verity. She makes Steve's tea with plenty of milk and sugar. It's tea-flavored sweet milk by the time she's done. "I know tea is an unusual choice for us good patriots, but it's really very good for you. So for the next few days, you're going to want to drink tea instead of coffee. You'll still get plenty of caffeine, don't worry about that. Eat your soup before it gets cold."

She doesn't have to ask how Samus takes her tea, she just pours and fixes while Samus fiddles with the vents. "Those are air purifiers of some kind? Oh, housekeeping should be up soon to scrub down the bathroom and change the linens, that sort of thing."

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