The man, not the legend.

"...Let's just...talk. Or something." Anything that isn't reminding him of his mother or Bucky because those people aren't here and Steve really doesn't want to cry because Verity is being amazing and helpful.

He'll reach over to the small sidetable and scoop up his sketchbook and pencil. Not opening them. But just having them at hand makes him feel better, if only a little.

From:

"Okay." Verity shifts herself up into the other chair. "So, the chao have been demanding a lot of music the last few days. Apparently since the ball they all love to dance. It's adorable, especially when they start bouncing off each other. It starts as waltzing and ends like a mosh pit of cuteness."

The chao are an endless stream of adorable stories and she can keep telling them until Samus gets there.

From:

That just means that when Samus does arrive Steve has filled a page with doodles of various chau all trying to dance.

At least he hasn't run away and seems to be in a decent mood for someone who's under the weather.

From:

*The wait isn't long. That firm knock on the door is either Samus, or the specter of death, and when you can tell them apart only one of them is likely to knock. She's got a duffel bag large enough to carry a body in slung across her back, and something cloth and suitcase-like in each hand. She's also wearing a set of amber lenses over her eyes, on which a keen observer might catch the occasional flicker of lights that aren't reflections of things in the room.*

From:

"That'll be Samus. I'll get it, you finish that sketch, I want to see how it turns out." See? Not weakness, art as priority. No reason for Steve to get upset when Verity goes to answer the door.

She's relieved to see Samus and steps aside to let her in. "That's... a fair bit more than I was expecting you to bring. Need help setting anything up?"

Edited Date: 2015-11-09 06:06 am (UTC)

From:

Steve is content to stay put and finish up his drawing, worry not. He's finally starting to feel warm in his chair under his blanket and has no real desire to change that at the moment.

He...does seem a bit curious as to the amount of things Samus has brought with her. Is she moving in? He needs to ask about getting a couch or a second bed if he's having guests. Maybe the women can share the bed?

Honestly he feels like that would just end with them sick too eventually.

"Hello...Have Verity show you her picture at some point. I'm pretty proud of it."

From:

*Samus nods to Verity, handing her one of the bags.*

Find an outlet for this, please?

*She nods a greeting to Steve, finding a clear patch of table or floor, either works, on which to set the big duffel. As she opens it up and starts digging through its contents, she answers Steve.*

After I've had a look at you, alright? I'm going to need your permission to do some scans, and probably give you some shots. I'll explain each thing before I do it, but a general permission at the outset would be nice.

*Is that a portable IV tree she's pulling out and setting up next to his chair? It certainly looks like it.*

From:

"Yes, ma'am." So, now Steve knows who outranks Verity in the Nexus pecking order. She shuts the door and starts the hunt for an outlet. Enjoy the show, Steve, this doesn't happen very often.

"It really is a gorgeous painting," she pitches in. Even medical not-quite-emergencies can't dampen her enthusiasm for the artwork. Her artwork. That is so much more special.

From:

Steve scowls at the IV. How sick did Verity tell Samus he was? Doesn't this seem like a bit much? Verity's not arguing though so...wow, okay. They take any kind of sickness super seriously in the future. His Ma would be impressed, Steve thinks.

Did they get rid of colds and stuff in the future? Is that why they're so worried? (He does not realize that he would be this concerned over someone else who told him what he told Verity.)

"Uhm, sure? Whatever you've gotta do, I guess. What..I mean...shots? Scans? It's just a cold..."

From:

*Future medicine dragged the common cold into an alleyway with a cloth over its mouth, shot it twice in the head, and then went through its pockets.*

I'm looking forward to it. When you get that plugged in, Verity, could you turn up the heat? There's kind of a chill.

*Given that Samus is in a vacsuit, and Verity at least will have some familiarity with those garments' function, that statement is at least half excuse.*

Thank you, Steve. Quick question, what have you eaten in the week since the party? A complete list.

*While he's answering, she holds one device, then another, then another, up in front of him, frowning thoughtfully as reflections flicker on her visor. Her movements are brisk and businesslike, with no movement wasted. If one didn't know her profession, one might mistake her for a no-nonsense nurse. With the scans done, she hands him a thin strip of a rubbery material.*

Put that around your wrist, please? Either one; it'll stick to itself, and stretch if you need it to.

From:

Common colds are exactly that when and where Verity grew up, but this is no cold. She may not be a doctor, but she isn't stupid.

The thing is plugged in, and the temperature is turned up. Then she comes to stand behind Steve, resting a hand on his shoulder. She's hoping he'll find that comforting. "He asked for some soup, is it okay for me to go get that while you work, Samus? And I'm going to ask housekeeping to come in before we get him back into bed."

Less comforting when she talks about him instead of to him, which she realizes just a little too late. "If that's okay with you, Steve," she adds with a blush.

From:

"Canned vegetables and pasta mostly. I heat them up on the burner for the coffee pot." Cooking is really just boil everything as far as Steve knows. The rubbery thing is dutifully put on.

"There's not really a kitchen in here, so...That and water?" It seemed more sensible to make his own food than to spend money at the hotel's fancy restaurant. Being frugal is the only way he knows how to live.

From:

*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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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?

From:

"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)

From:

*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.

From:

"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."

From:

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)

From:

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.)

From:

"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..."

From:

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.

From:

"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."

From: