Anonymous asked:
Steve isn't in FATWS is because he is pregnant and won't leave the nest
moonythejedi394 answered:
that my friend is a great take i love it
. . . in the beats between thoughts he catches an off scent. He looks at where it's coming from, and it's the Soldier, and Steve's dumb tactical brains goes: hey, that guy’s got a dislocated shoulder, you could hit him there. His actual brain takes another beat to catch up.
“Damn,” he says under his breath, and goes over to help. “Here, let’s get that sorted,” he says, crouching down and starting in on the catches on Soldier’s uniform.
Soldier’s sick-scent is that much stronger up close, now boosted by sweat and, yes, that’s some pain he’s feeling there, under all the other mess. Steve automatically starts radiating more calm, or as much as he can when his own body is still coming off the fight. Hopefully it’ll smell like team, at least. “I’ll pop it back in for you. You done this before?”
Soldier, who, Steve notices, has stopped moving and is staring at him like he’s grown another head, nods after a second. Steve pauses and waits for the I’m fine that usually precedes any kind of fussing. Peggy would let him nag after her a bit, but he always thought that was more about letting him feel useful than needing it herself.
“Good,” Steve says when he isn’t shoved away. “Good,” he repeats after a moment and goes back to working the body armor off. He feels around the joint to check if anything feels off, and right. Medic. They should get a medic. Steve keeps taking First Responder classes because it’s something to do on the weekends, but most of those don’t deal with So You Like Getting Shot At, Huh?
“So, you know how it goes,” Steve says. He whaps his own bicep. “Brace here. Alright? I’m, uh. I’m hard to move, so don’t worry about it. On three. Ready?”
Soldier, after another second of staring, braces himself, putting his hand on Steve’s bicep one finger at a time before pressing his full palm in. “One, two,” Steve says, and shoves. “Three,” he finishes, and Soldier bends forward slightly into the pain but otherwise doesn’t even make a sound.
Steve can’t see his face from this angle. He rubs Soldier’s back for a bit, not letting go; even if he’s new he’s still part of Steve’s team on this op, and Steve learned the hard way to take care of his team. It makes sense that the guy isn’t comfortable with them yet.
Steve just has to do better. He keeps trying to start up banter, but it never seems to land right with the team as a whole. Natasha gets it, but that’s her job. Natasha can get anything. Aliens could land and Natasha would be giving them culturally-appropriate compliments about their tentacled grandkids after a couple of minutes.
Steve looks up and finds her already watching them, no kind of look on her face. “Widow, do we have any ice packs?”
They do. Natasha provides one, approaching with something almost like caution, and Steve helps Soldier strap it on. Soldier’s back to giving him strange looks. He’ll look at him for half a beat, then down and away, then back again, only now it’s sidelong and Steve is close enough to see the angle of his eyelashes change every time his focus shifts.
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