[ficlet] Normal is for other people.
Title: Normal is for other people.
Author:
zekkass.
Fandom: Avengers Movie-Verse.
Rating: G.
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers + Jarvis, mentions of others.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 584 words.
Summary: Jarvis wants to know what normal for Steve is.
Notes: This is my attempt at writing from Steve's POV for once - fingers crossed it's alright.
---
"Jarvis? I'm having a conversation with the British man in the ceiling while drinking tea and sketching, and this is a slow morning. I don't think I'm one to talk to about what counts as normal."
"I apologize, sir."
Steve looks up at the ceiling, then erases an errant line. "Why were you asking?"
"I am given to understand that Master Stark is atypical, sir." Jarvis pauses, and Steve re-draws the line. "He asked me to define 'normal' for him, and I have yet to find a satisfactory answer."
"It's subjective," Steve says, glancing at his tea cup again, to see how the light catches it. "My normal isn't going to be the same as his."
For example: he's used to conversing with the AI when he's alone, and barely a month ago he would have been...surprised to even think about talking to an empty room, to say the least.
"If I am to give a comprehensive answer, sir, I require more data. Very few superheroes have been polled on the subject."
Steve pauses in his sketching. "I'm not going to be a good barometer for normal, Jarvis."
"An answer would be appreciated nonetheless," Jarvis says, and Steve puts down his pencil.
Normal is something he doesn't usually think about, in all honesty. It's something that happens to other people, who don't fight Nazis or supervillains on a regular basis, and it's something he left behind when he enlisted. Tried to.
So to think about it now...to think about what normal is, for him...
"It's unusual for me to go a week without fighting something," Steve says, and he turns over his sketchpad, abandoning the idea of drawing his cup now.
"As you are a member of the Avengers, sir, this is warranted."
"Then normal for the Avengers - any member of the Avengers - is fighting." Steve lets his hand follow its own whim, tracing spirals across the paper. "Keeping myself in battle-ready condition is normal."
The spirals turn triangular, and he moves on.
"It's also keeping an eye on everyone. Making sure no one is quietly losing it." He thinks of Tony and how he'll refuse to eat sometimes, and he thinks of Bruce with his ongoing struggle to find peace, and he thinks of the times he needs to sit outside with Thor, when they don't say anything.
He's back to spirals now, long looping ones around the page, and he glances at the ceiling.
"This is normal too," he goes on. "Talking to the man in the ceiling. Savoring the peaceful moments." Helping Tony downstairs, sometimes, or watching movies with the team, or walking to Central Park to sketch what he sees.
He's speckling the page down, covering it with dots, thinking of a million and one moments that comprise the entirety of his life here and now.
"Does that help?" He asks Jarvis, aware that it's probably not a good idea to tell the AI all of his thoughts.
"Yes, sir," Jarvis says, and he sounds - for an AI - thoughtful.
"Say," Steve says. "Why did Tony ask you to define normal?"
"In all honesty, sir, I believe the question was rhetorical, but should the occasion arise when he needs an answer, I should be prepared. You have been very helpful, Captain."
"I'm glad to hear it," Steve says, and he turns the sketchpad back over. "Mind telling Tony what time it is?"
"Certainly, sir," Jarvis says, and Steve hums to himself as he resumes his still life.
---
Author:
zekkass.
Fandom: Avengers Movie-Verse.
Rating: G.
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers + Jarvis, mentions of others.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 584 words.
Summary: Jarvis wants to know what normal for Steve is.
Notes: This is my attempt at writing from Steve's POV for once - fingers crossed it's alright.
---
"Jarvis? I'm having a conversation with the British man in the ceiling while drinking tea and sketching, and this is a slow morning. I don't think I'm one to talk to about what counts as normal."
"I apologize, sir."
Steve looks up at the ceiling, then erases an errant line. "Why were you asking?"
"I am given to understand that Master Stark is atypical, sir." Jarvis pauses, and Steve re-draws the line. "He asked me to define 'normal' for him, and I have yet to find a satisfactory answer."
"It's subjective," Steve says, glancing at his tea cup again, to see how the light catches it. "My normal isn't going to be the same as his."
For example: he's used to conversing with the AI when he's alone, and barely a month ago he would have been...surprised to even think about talking to an empty room, to say the least.
"If I am to give a comprehensive answer, sir, I require more data. Very few superheroes have been polled on the subject."
Steve pauses in his sketching. "I'm not going to be a good barometer for normal, Jarvis."
"An answer would be appreciated nonetheless," Jarvis says, and Steve puts down his pencil.
Normal is something he doesn't usually think about, in all honesty. It's something that happens to other people, who don't fight Nazis or supervillains on a regular basis, and it's something he left behind when he enlisted. Tried to.
So to think about it now...to think about what normal is, for him...
"It's unusual for me to go a week without fighting something," Steve says, and he turns over his sketchpad, abandoning the idea of drawing his cup now.
"As you are a member of the Avengers, sir, this is warranted."
"Then normal for the Avengers - any member of the Avengers - is fighting." Steve lets his hand follow its own whim, tracing spirals across the paper. "Keeping myself in battle-ready condition is normal."
The spirals turn triangular, and he moves on.
"It's also keeping an eye on everyone. Making sure no one is quietly losing it." He thinks of Tony and how he'll refuse to eat sometimes, and he thinks of Bruce with his ongoing struggle to find peace, and he thinks of the times he needs to sit outside with Thor, when they don't say anything.
He's back to spirals now, long looping ones around the page, and he glances at the ceiling.
"This is normal too," he goes on. "Talking to the man in the ceiling. Savoring the peaceful moments." Helping Tony downstairs, sometimes, or watching movies with the team, or walking to Central Park to sketch what he sees.
He's speckling the page down, covering it with dots, thinking of a million and one moments that comprise the entirety of his life here and now.
"Does that help?" He asks Jarvis, aware that it's probably not a good idea to tell the AI all of his thoughts.
"Yes, sir," Jarvis says, and he sounds - for an AI - thoughtful.
"Say," Steve says. "Why did Tony ask you to define normal?"
"In all honesty, sir, I believe the question was rhetorical, but should the occasion arise when he needs an answer, I should be prepared. You have been very helpful, Captain."
"I'm glad to hear it," Steve says, and he turns the sketchpad back over. "Mind telling Tony what time it is?"
"Certainly, sir," Jarvis says, and Steve hums to himself as he resumes his still life.
---