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As a super soldier, broken bones are supposed to happen to other people.
His SHIELD doctor hasn't looked Steve in the eye yet; he's studying Steve's chart through thick, horn-rimmed glasses with a peculiar intensity. A different sort of narrative seems to be playing out between his ears. For all Steve knows, the doc may get a publication out of whatever's wrong with him.
"Your left femur has a proximal fractur. The bone has sheared," the doctor finally says, and he shows Steve the x-ray. Sure enough, the white lines make a jagged zig right where the doctor is pointing. "In young people, it takes an incredible amount of force to break that bone. I've only ever seen it after car accidents..." The implied question is, what did it take to break yours?
"I got thrown into the side of a cement truck." Steve supposes that that is a sort of car accident.
The doctor blinks. "Well, the serum in your blood healed the rest of the trauma, but the femur is healing in the wrong spot and the bone mass is inconsistent. If you're ever going to walk again, we're going to have to re-set it. I would also recommend using hormones to temporarily counteract the serum. The rapid bone growth may be the cause of the abnormal growth pattern."
Steve grimaces. "How long til I'm able to walk on it again?"
"Hard to say at this point. Perhaps a month."
Oh god. Being in a SHIELD hospital for that long is going to drive him crazy.
"Okay. Do it." Whatever it takes to get him up and in the field again.
#
The doctors have to go in surgically because of his enhanced bones, and an operation means an even longer recovery. Steve isn't happy.
He's also not prepared for the boredom of being bedridden. His plaster-encased leg is immobile, save for daily intervals of raising or lowering a strap around his ankle to prevent bed sores. Daytime TV is disinteresting, and he can't use a full-sized laptop without twisting uncomfortably.
The highlights of his day are when Tony visits. Tony is a busy man, though. He apologizes whenever he has to leave, and on his third visit, he has a small hand-held video game console for Steve. The gesture is appreciated, but Steve isn't terribly interested in games.
Gail and Bucky come to visit him on the fourth day, and when he tells them he's sick of just reading off his phone, Gail's starts digging in her over-sized purse.
"Have you ever tried knitting?"
Steve is perplexed by the question. "Do I look like the sort of man whose tried?"
Gail pulls out a pair of knitting needles. A lump of gray and and green wool hangs off one like a man suspended from shackles. It might be a sock, but Steve isn't sure. "Plenty of men learned during the war. If you're going to be stuck in a bed, why not do something useful?" She sets the work in Steve's lap. She doesn't give him time to protest. "Here, I'll teach you the basics with this. Now, counting rows is going to be your best friend as a beginner…"
#
So Steve learns to knit. His stitches are horribly tight at first, and he has to undo them several times before he gets the tension right. Gail assures him that with practice, it will become second nature. When she comes back the next day, she brings him a new pair of needles and yarn, and asks him what he wants to make.
"What do people usually make?" he asks warily, very much out of his depth.
It must show.
"Oh, honey," she pats his hand. "Well, when I started out, I made a scarf for the guy I was going steady with. Something simple."
"I could probably do that…" Steve says, and pictures himself handing Tony a new, warm scarf. He likes that thought.
"All right, today I'll show you how to cast on," Gail says, picking up the needles. Her hands move nimbly, and even though Steve practiced all through yesterday's visit, it's still hard for his eyes to follow.
Challenges were made to be met head on, he thinks to himself. He's saved the world; he's certainly not going to let a little knitting get the best of him.
#
"Hello, darling," says a sing-song voice in the hallway.
Steve has just enough time to stuff his knitting under a pillow before Tony strolls into his room, a vase of flowers in hand. He sets it on the nightstand and drops into a chair next to Steve's bed. His nose is still pink with the cold of outside.
"Chilly day out there?" Steve asks. It's been two weeks, and he's getting cabin fever. He can only watch the weather through the windows of his room.
"Frightfully," Tony replies, rubbing his hands together. He blinks, then frowns.
Tony reaches over and tugs at something just beneath Steve's pillow, and Steve realizes with horror that in his haste, he hasn't hid his work quite as well as he thought.
"Is this yarn?" Tony asks.
"Don't—" Steve tries to stop him, but Tony's already pulled out the needles. He's holding a square of red that Steve's been studiously working on.
"Oh wow." Tony's fingers rub the soft ball of yarn. "I didn't know you knit, Steve."
"I don't really…"
Tony raises an eyebrow at him. "This seems to suggest otherwise."
"I'm just learning to pass the time…" Oh god, is Tony going to tease him for it? Steve's not sure he can handle that. "Gail said a lot of guys learned in the hospital wards during the war."
"Carrying on the tradition. I like that." Tony smiles at him. "I had a nanny who tried to teach me once. Never got the hang of it, but I did learn to crochet."
Steve is so relieved he almost misses that last part. "You crochet?"
"Not much. I did a—" Tony trails off and blushes furiously. "Um. Well, nothing you'd be very interested in."
"I have all the time in the world," Steve points out to him. "You'd be surprised where my thresh hold for interesting is these days."
Tony just turns redder. "I'll um, dig around, see what I can find."
#
Later that night, Steve scrolls through his phone, looking through all sorts of different knitting projects. Lots of hats and socks, even whole blankets. Then he stumbles on a whole trove of Ultimate themed patterns. Someone has worked out a way to knit dolls of each of them. It's a little flattering and a little surreal.
But it also makes him wonder just what Tony was so embarrassed about…
Because he's curious, and—frankly—has nothing better to do than follow a hunch, Steve googles, Ultimates crochet pattern.
And the results do not disappoint.