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2012: new york city

"They pull me in for the craziest crap," Isadora grumbled, shovelling the last few mouthfuls of granola down her throat as two SHIELD agents waited rather impatiently by the door to her office.

"Sadie," Dr Valentina laughed from where she lounged on the couch. "Only you would complain about being called to treat a billionaire."

Isadora and Adrianne had gotten into the habit of eating breakfast together before shifts, as it was the only time they were uninterrupted. With Adrianne as Chief of Surgery, and Isadora as Chief of Medicine, they never had a spare moment otherwise. But today, that had been disturbed.

Isadora sighed, pinning back her short black curls. "No chance I can persuade you to come with me?"

"To a tower full of superheroes? No thanks," Adrianne scoffed. "I have a surgical department to run. Plus you're the one with the weird glowing hands."

"They don't always glow," she sighed, grabbing her coat and following the SHIELD agents out of the door. Sadie hadn't used her powers properly for years- she'd decided to build her career based on hard work and merit, not any advantages that weren't earned.

Before she knew it, she was at Avengers tower. Most of New York's centre was a mess after the alien invasion, rubble lining the streets from the fights that had ensued that week. When Tony Stark had flown into a literal wormhole- it was all over the news. And now Isadora had to deal with fixing him.

The agents led her to a room on the upper most floor, and remained silent. She assumed she would have to let herself in. But when she did, it was not Tony Stark that she found. Isadora glanced back at the agents in the corridor, they didn't seem interested in checking the room. So she closed the door behind her, set down her briefcase and pulled out her stethoscope as normal.

"You're not Mr Stark," she stated, walking over to the man sat waiting in the chair. Steve Rogers. He looked well compared to when she had last saw him, which isn't surprising since she last saw him waking from a sixty six year old sleep.

"I owe him a favour so he made me cover for him," Steve said, apologetically. "He doesn't like doctors."

"I won't take it personally," she laughed. "Doctor Isadora-Michelle Moore, I guess we'll take this opportunity to check on you, then?"

"Oh, Steve Rogers, but I'm fine-" he started, even though she had already pulled out her pen light, ready to take a look at his pupil response.  She immediately pulled away.

"Are you sure? I could just do a routine check up, make sure you're done defrosting," Isadora said, smirking slightly. Everything about him was the opposite of cold, but she wasn't going to mention it. "You know I treated you when you were in the ice. I've always been curious to know how you've been getting on, Captain."

"Well, everything is a shock, that's for sure," Steve chuckled. "But I don't feel any different than I did before... I mean, this still hardly feels like my body. But other than that, it's just like I had a very, very long nap."

Isadora knew that it was showing in her face, but she felt such a deep interest in his words- in the fact that despite all the work Rogers did for their country, he still was not used to his post-serum self. How long exactly would it take one to adjust to such a transformation? Would the body accept it all as a new norm, given time? The only way to know would be for someone to study it.

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