Chapter 8
There had been a time when the batcave had only one medical emergency cot, for the times when Bruce was too injured to make the climb back to the manor and Alfred was forced to tend to his wounds in the cave. With the arrival of Dick, came a second bed. It’s a rare occurrence that both should be so injured at once, but Bruce is nothing if not prepared. Three more beds are the latest addition to the batcave, one specifically modified with a UV ray light fixture above it. Never had all beds been used at once, but they were all there, just in case.
Steve passes by the empty bed meant for him, and heads towards the four occupied beds. He looks over his patients with a critical eye. Bucky, wrapped in a blanket, shivers with acute hypothermia and mild frost bite. Clark curls up under the UV rays with a severe case of kryptonite poisoning as well as slow healing kryptonite knife wounds. Dick fidgets as the last of The Joker's drug wears off, otherwise unharmed save for a few bumps and bruises and a mild concussion. His final patient, Bruce, lays stiffly on his cot. His skull is fractured, he has a bad concussion, and deep lacerations cover his body. The Joker had taken his time, lovingly crafting scars into Bruce's body. He will heal though. They all will. Steve plans on making sure of it.
Steve stops at Bucky's bedside first. They are no strangers to hypothermia and the frost bite will heal. Bucky will likely be the first one to recover, but that doesn't mean Steve is happy seeing him in the medical bed.
"Alfred's bringing down hot tea," Steve says.
"That's not necessary. I'm fine," Bucky huffs. "It's not like I've never been frozen before."
A haunted look lingers in his eyes. Honestly Steve is more concerned about the mental toll freezing took on him then the physical one. He keeps that concern to himself however. Instead, he grins.
"Consider this revenge for all the times you kept me in bed when I was fine."
"That's because you were never actually fine," Bucky scoffs. Steve laughs, but doesn't correct him.
"Drink the tea," Steve says. "It will make Alfred feel better at least."
"Well, if it's for Alfred's sake... I suppose I can have a few sips," Bucky allows with a shrug, his lips twitching.
"Good," Steve says. He grabs a blanket and spreads it over the other blankets already burying the man. Bucky glares.
"Steve," he grumbles, but nestles deeper into his cocoon of fleece.
"It makes me feel better."
Bucky rolls his eyes, but his face softens.
"Go bother the others," he says. Steve smiles.
"Don't worry, I plan to."
Steve leaves Bucky's bedside, safe in the knowledge that Alfred will be down soon to ply the man with enough piping hot tea to sate a battalion of men.
He stops at Clark's bedside next. Clark is propped up on a mountain of pillows with Krypto sprawled out across his master's lap. Krypto lifts his head at Steve's approach, his tail thumping on the bed. Clark offers him a tired smile.
"How are you feeling?" Steve asks, leaning over to scratch Krypto behind the ears.
"Like I have the flu," Clark says. Steve winces in sympathy.
"You'll be happy to know then that the GCPD collected all the kryptonite for disposal."
Clark breathes a sigh of relief, settling deeper into his mountain of pillows, "Good to know."
Steve watches him. Clark's still too pale and shivering even under the combined heat of the sun lamps and Krypto's body.
"I'm fine," Clark says, smiling weakly.
"I have a feeling I'm going to be hearing that a lot today."
As if sensing Steve's worry, Krypto raises his massive head and licks him.
"Down boy!" Steve laughs pushing him off. "Good to see the kryptonite won't have lasting effects on you either."
"He's recovering faster than I am," Clark says beaming at his dog.
"I noticed he seemed less affected by it at the circus," Steve says. "That could be useful if you ever decide to bring him out in the field."
"Like for fighting villains?" Clark asks. At Steve's nod, Clark stares down at his dog. His tail wags lazily back and forth and he blinks up at Clark, begging for a belly rub. Clark happily obliges.
"I can't do that. He's just a big goofball."
"A goofball with razor sharp claws and superpowers."
Clark inclines his head in acknowledgement, "He can be a reserve member, I suppose, but I don't think we should give full membership to anyone who still messes on the rug."
"Fair," Steve laughs, "Though he did make excellent backup. Couldn't have done it without him."
Clark looks at him thoughtfully, "Yes you could have."
Steve feels his face heat up and he reaches over to give Krypto one last pet before heading off to check on his next patient.
As Steve approaches he catches the sound of a quiet conversation happening in the last two beds.
"I'm fine B. Alfred's already smothering me. I don't need you doing it too," Dick whines and Steve hides a grin. He suspects it will be a long time before Bruce lets the poor boy out of his sight.
Bruce glances in Steve's direction and then back at Dick with a look that clearly says that they will finish their conversation later. He gives Steve a tired smile. Two cats are curled up on his bed, one nestled into his side and the other on his chest.
“I thought the cats weren’t allowed in the batcave,” Steve says.
Bruce scratches the black one beneath the chin, “Dick wanted them down here for comfort.”
Steve politely doesn’t mention that both cats are on his bed and not Dick’s.
"How's the head?" Steve asks instead. Bruce reaches up to gingerly scratch at the thick white bandage wrapped around his head.
"Healing," he says shortly. Steve gives him a once over. His pupils are dilated and mismatched, a sure sign of the concussion. Steve makes a note to keep a close eye on him for the rest of the night.
The silence stretches out between them as Steve does a check on the bandages. Not that Steve minds, he's grown to appreciate Bruce's quietness, a balancing contrast to Clark and Dick's chattiness. Just as Steve is finishing up, Bruce breaks the silence.
"Thank you," he grunts. He's not looking at Steve, rather past him at Dick who is laid up in his own bed.
"You know I'd do anything for that kid," Steve says.
"Still," Bruce says dropping his voice so Dick won't hear, "if anything ever happened to him..."
He breaks off looking stricken.
"Nothing happened," Steve reminds him gently.
"This time," Bruce says darkly, his eyes still flickering worriedly to his son. Steve gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze but can't offer him any further comfort. Their jobs are risky, and death is a constant specter looming in the background. He wants to promise that they will always keep Dick safe, but knows that nobody, not even Superman, can truly guarantee it. The best they can do is watch each other’s backs, like a real team.
Bruce lapses into silence, deep in thought, and Steve wanders over to his last patient of the day. Dick gives him a wide smile that morphs into a yawn. His eyes are still a bit glassy from whatever drug The Joker had injected him with. But Bruce has done numerous blood tests and has assured them with absolute certainty that there won't be any lasting damage.
"How's your shoulder?" Dick asks before Steve can open his mouth. Steve rotates it. It twinges, the pain lingering even after Bucky had snapped it back into place.
"Fine. I've had worse," Steve says. Dick nods, relief crossing his features.
“Still, sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I’m just glad I caught you.”
"Thanks for that, and for not letting go," Dick says.
"Yeah, about that," Steve says taking a seat by his bedside and lowering his voice, "Do you want to explain yourself?"
He crosses his arms for added emphasis. He doubts he looks intimidating like this, but Dick lowers his eyes anyways, shame coloring his face.
"I didn't want you to die," Dick says. his voice barely reaches a whisper and Steve almost misses it.
"That wasn't your call."
"I know," Dick mumbles guiltily, "But what would happen to the Justice League without you?"
When Dick looks up, stubbornness burns in his eyes, pushing back the guilt. Steve scrubs a hand across his face.
"Some day the Justice League just might have to learn to get along without me," Steve says. "It's not your job to throw yourself on the wire for me."
"You'd do it for me," Dick says.
"That's different. You have your whole life ahead of you,” Steve says, “So don’t do it again, understood?”
Dick frowns but gives a terse nod. It’s enough for now, though Steve doubts that promise will hold as Dick grows. The silence between them is stiff and Steve doesn’t want to leave with Dick upset with him. He leans over, a conspiratorial smile on his face.
"Besides, we need you. Bucky has another batch of kittens that need homes and only you can convince Bruce to adopt more cats."
A small grin breaks out over Dick's face.
"Thank you," Dick says quietly, "… and thanks for not telling the others that I told you to drop me. Bruce would have a fit."
"Yeah well, I did my share of stupid stuff when I was your age. Some things are better not one’s mentioned to parents," Steve says. He pats Dick's knee.
"Now get some rest," he commands.
"Yes sir!" Dick says snuggling under his blanket with a yawn.
Steve stands up and looks proudly over his team. They are battered and bruised, but not broken. The Justice League will live to fight another day.
He clings to that feeling of pride over the next few weeks as the team and Steve adjusts to the new status quo. He stops asking Bruce for updates on his tests of Poison Ivy’s pollen and he doesn’t linger by the portal, secretly hoping for Tony to pop through with a cure, anymore. Instead of focusing on the past and what he’s lost, Steve looks to the future.
Unfortunately, the future looks complicated. Perry has been generous with giving Steve leave time, but that won't last forever, and Steve can't go back to the office looking like he shrunk. There will be too many questions.
Writing his resignation letter is hard. The Daily Planet helped this new world feel like home and it feels like a kick in the gut to leave it. The letter sits heavily in his pocket, but he can’t bring himself to turn it over to Clark just yet.
But things aren’t all bad, and Steve is careful to cherish the bright spots. He’s begun joining Bucky on his trips to the shelter. He understands why Bucky loves it so. There's a sort of peace here amongst the animals. There’s no judgment. Cats and dogs don't care how dark your past is or whether or not you can bench press a car. As long as you have a bowl of food in one hand a squeak toy in the other, they're happy. Steve could adjust to this sort of life.
And there are other things he’s not sure he will ever get used to. It stings every time The Justice League deploys without him. He mans the comms, giving guidance from the cave, but it not the same. He’s a soldier at heart and he wants to be on the front lines with the others, but he knows he’d be more of a liability than a help. Besides, this is still better than being excluded entirely. At least on the comms he can still help.
Steve sits in the living room. Colonel Philip curls up on his lap as Peggy nestles into his shoulder. Bucky’s at the store buying groceries and Steve is using the quiet afternoon to catch up on some of Bruce’s mission reports. Engrossed in reading, he doesn’t immediately notice the red light leaking out of the kitchen.
"Steve? Capsicle? You home?" Tony calls. Steve dislodges himself from the cats to greet his guest. Tony doesn't give him the chance to say more than “hello.” As soon as Steve's in the kitchen Tony has his fingers locked around his wrist while his other hand dances along the buttons on the portal box. In a beam of red light Steve finds himself in Stark Tower.
"Tony?"
Tony doesn’t answer, but Steve can feel him vibrating with suppressed excitement.
"Tony?" Steve tries again. His voice firmer. Tony just looks over his shoulder at him and grins even harder. He pushes open the doors to his lab and drags Steve through. Bruce looks up from his work, also grinning.
"Cap," he greets warmly.
“What’s going on guys?” Steve asks. There’s a feeling blossoming in his chest that feels a lot like hope, but he doesn’t dare say anything. It’s too fragile.
“We did it Cap,” Bruce says.
Steve's heart stutters. His eyes flick to Tony for confirmation that this isn’t a trick. They wouldn’t be so cruel. It could be a dream though.
"Ow!" Steve jerks as Tony pinches him.
"You looked like you didn't believe it was real." Tony says smugly and Steve can't find it in himself to even be annoyed.
"How did you guys do it?" He asks instead.
"Weed Lady isn't as smart as she thinks," Tony says, "We found a way to neutralize the effects of her pollen."
"And once her pollen is neutralized the serum will begin producing again." Bruce adds.
"So, you ready to have more muscles than you know what to do with again?" Tony asks.
"I'm ready to be able to breathe normally again," Steve says.
Tony leads him to a large glass tube. It looks like a Winter Soldier cryotube and Steve reflexively frowns at it. Tony doesn't notice, opening it and gesturing for Steve to step inside.
"Now just breathe deeply Cap" Tony says. Then door shuts, sealing itself with a hiss. For a few seconds all Steve can hear is the irregular pounding of his heart. Then he hears fans whirling and blue smoke pours in from the vents. Steve does his best to breathe deeply. The smoke tickles his throat and scratches his lungs. He coughs, deep heaving coughs that shake his shoulders.
Then the pain hits. His muscles seize and his skin burns, as if thousands of hot needles are being plunged into his skin. He screams. It feels like his bones are breaking as they rapidly grow and twist to accommodate his newly formed muscles. Everything hurts, but the pain is familiar, and despite his screams Steve is happy. The serum is changing him just like before.
The gas shuts off and the doors open. Steve stumbles out. He looks a mess; his pants are painfully tight and inches too short, his shirt is torn and hanging from him, and his hair looks like he just stepped out of a wind tunnel. But when he looks down he sees muscles rippling under healthy glowing skin and when he breathes there's no rattle in his chest.
He beams at Tony and Bruce.
"Thank you." He says sincerely. They both wave away his gratitude, like they haven't just given him back one of the greatest gifts of his life.
"The Captain is back." Steve says, still hardly daring to believe it.
Honestly Steve," Tony says fondly, rolling his eyes, "He never really left."