Chapter Text
Everyone expects Steve to have PTSD, triggers, trauma, after all he served in WW2 and just woke up after being frozen for decades. Honestly he appreciates that they care, that they try and help. But, and there is always a but, no one has asked Steve what hurts the most, no one thought that: “hey, maybe we should just ask the guy we’re trying to help what he needs?” They acted dumb around him, and it was more annoying than helpful, though almost sweet if it weren’t so obvious. They kept his quarters warm, too warm, no doubt when he'd been a scrawny thing he would have loved it but he runs so hot now he longs for winter.
They keep his pantry stocked, and yea, he’d known hunger for most of his life, when they were too poor for food, when he was at war, and now because it takes so much to keep the machine that is his body going and he is a terrible cook. He liked that there was food; he was baffled because there was nothing remotely like rations, he was not culinarily gifted, he could peel potatoes and boil water, but the stuff in his pantry meant next to nothing to him. He was grateful for all the varieties of canned soup though: easy, tasty, and no one had bothered him about his lack of meal varieties. Well Stark would if he ever found out but he’d try and keep that from happening, after all he’d managed to avoid moving into the tower so far. He tried not to think about the elder Stark too much and living in the same city as his son was hard enough.
The worst of it was how people moved gingerly around him; it was actually beginning to put him on edge. It was like he was 8 and had cracked his ribs coughing from pneumonia and his friend had pooled all of his money to get the doc to come out only for his mother to be asked if there were arrangements. Two weeks of hidden tears had him recovering out of spite so he could go yell at the doctor. His friend hadn’t let him.
All of SHIELD also seemed to think no one from the 40's had ever had sex.
Seriously, it was hilarious. He’d walk in on a chaste kiss and people jumped like they were doing something wrong and great aunt Hildegard from the neighborhood who was no one’s aunt and really not that great had burst in with a wooden spoon and a sermon.
Stark was never allowed to know of that woman ... in fact no one was allowed, ever.
He had been fascinated at first when he’d discovered a TV in his little apartment, but quickly realized it was heavily modified. A couple classic movies stations, a fascinating station that showed weather all around the world, and really not much else. It was clear the ubiquitous ‘they’ were yet again “protecting” him from the world, from the fact that the world had changed. He was a man out of time, not in denial of it; he lived through one of the greatest changes the world had ever seen surely if the world hadn’t managed flying cars yet he could probably handle choosing a show to watch.
Needless to say a bored super soldier who’s being pandered to is bound to get revenge. Steve might be Captain America, but he’s no saint. He decided the best time for some retribution would be during his weekly lunch with "Fred from accounting" (and really? It’s like they thought he would refuse to talk to a shrink ... they literally set him up with a ‘lunch buddy’ to make sure he went. He was pretty sure that was unethical, not to mention so very transparent.) So when he was ever so gently asked how he was settling in it took a few seconds for Steve to decide not to say he was considering having a break down so everyone would stop waiting for it just so he could go on with his life. Instead he decided to treat “Fred” to a lesson on cumulus cloud formations and climate change and how disappointed he was that the world seemed doomed to man’s stupidity with or without bombs. He spoke for an hour straight, getting deeply passionate and the “accountant” sat there looking more and more frightened that the weather channel had radicalized Captain America.