The air in Brooklyn on a winter morning has a crystalline transparency, and the snow that had stopped falling two hours earlier highlighted the footprints on the street. You can still see the solid prints left by the trudging steps through the snow.
Behind the brown wooden window frame and slightly cold glass, a puff of heat rises from the cup, rotates nimbly in the air, and disappears swiftly, whereupon the aroma of coffee spreads throughout the entire room. Even the feet that were frozen stiff from snow-stepping across the street have started to warm up.
Stark and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder on the couch in the Hell's Kitchen Psychological Clinic. Steve is stirring the charcoal in the fireplace with tongs, while Stark uses his mecha-armed hand to flip the cookies heating on the grill above the fireplace.
He glanced back at the kitchen, where Shiller was busy making coffee with a Moka pot. Stark turned his head back, raised an eyebrow at Steve, saying, "I'm certain Shiller has been behaving more normally lately."
"Do you remember how long it's been since we had coffee here?" Steve adjusts the position of the charcoal, the firelight reflecting on his face, Captain America's blue eyes always reflecting any light clearly, be it daybreak, sunset, or firelight. Whenever he looks at the flames, it is like a lamp lit in a block of ice.
"It's been a long time since he's had this much patience." Stark said nostalgically while flipping the cookies, "He didn't even have time to stop and make himself a cup of coffee."
"This is always a good thing, Tony." Steve spoke with a slight southern accent and intonation when relaxed, possibly from his mother. Like people from that time, he said, "We're meeting on Sunday afternoon to ice fish on the lake."
"Ice fishing? Haha, old man." Stark started laughing brilliantly, shrugging his shoulders, almost doubling over with laughter. He looked at Steve with a pair of laughing eyes and said, "I bet Nick will go too. Maybe Natasha as well. You guys must be like five hundred years old in total, right?"
"You're underestimating." Steve started adding new logs to the fireplace and said, "That Russian scientist you have beef with is going too. He just got back to New York and was about to get drunk in the lab when Banner declared that no alcohol was allowed on his floor. That poor Russian guy lost three bottles of vodka and could only find solace among us old folks."
"I bet you didn't plan to invite me."
"Of course, because we don't want to offend Pepper." Steve slightly lifted his eyelid, looking at the dry firewood in his hand, saying, "And your Uncle Obadiah, he called each of us, asking when you plan to get married."
Stark started laughing again. He pressed his upper lip down firmly until the stubbled area started to turn white, yet he couldn't close his grinning mouth. Anyone who saw that expression would be surprised to find, behind the carefree laughter of the seemingly mature middle-aged man, there was the cute flirtation of a young boy.
"Let's talk about Shiller again." Stark redirected the conversation and said, "That mysterious voice told us that the doctor who had a profound influence on Shiller in the past might still be alive. I thought he'd rush to find him. But he suddenly settled down, like a speedboat that had suddenly dropped anchor."
"Everyone has their anchor." Steve sipped at his mouth and tilted his head, saying, "I didn't come up with this, I actually heard it on the emotional channel. It's just full of nonsense, but occasionally there's a gem."
"I underestimated your old-school ways. I hope you didn't hear it from a vintage radio in an antique shop. But that's fine because you're older than that radio anyway... My point is, Shiller might have remembered something."
"Remembered what?"
"What do you think? Why would that doctor want Shiller to be an ordinary person?" Stark pulled back his hand, propped his chin with the base of his palm, and quietly watched the small cracks emerging from the top of the heated cookies. Then, he added, "What's so good about being ordinary."
"When I was ordinary, I didn't feel anything special about it, but once I became Captain America, I often longed for those peaceful days."
"I got some textbooks from Natasha." Stark made a strange face, as if he wanted to laugh but didn't dare to. He lowered his voice and continued, "I didn't let anyone know. I know that I am the hope of many."
"What do you mean? What textbooks?" Steve looked up at him.
"The ones from the Soviet Union." Stark gritted his teeth, making a fierce face purposefully. It was unclear if he was warning Steve or any observation and peering eyes that could reach them from a distant space.
"Because Professor X said the doctor who cured Shiller was a former Soviet, I just wanted to see why that doctor wanted Shiller to be an ordinary person."
"You know, Tony? Now you look like a boy in adolescence explaining to his dad who barges into his room that the porn magazine under his bed is just for researching anatomy."
"Oh my god, that must be something you've done. I'd just straight up tell Howard that I like curvy babes."
"I hope he doesn't say he also likes them. Oh god, a young him would definitely say yes. Can you imagine? Nick Fury was the most serious one among us."
"Don't change the subject. You can't let Shiller hear how you just described those books. They take this matter very seriously. But I think I actually understood something."
"About being ordinary?"
"Perhaps." Once again, Stark flipped the closest cookie with his mecha hand, but not because he cared about the doneness. It seemed he wanted to keep himself busy.
"One of the most interesting and enlightening points is, they saw the development of the collective and every individual in the collective as equally important. They wanted both societal progress and the happiness of the people."
"Sounds idealistic."
Stark looked up at Steve with slight surprise, then said, "I thought you were idealistic."
"I am, and that's why I gave that assessment." Steve said with a smile, "When you are an idealist, you can understand who the real idealist is and who is embellishing their words."
"Shiller seems to be the beneficiary of that notion," Stark lowered his head slightly, letting his lashes conceal his eyes, hiding the contemplation within them. He continued, "I suppose the doctor probably had this idea in mind when he resolved to save him no matter what."
"Perhaps, he'd the same thought in mind when he tried to save us?" Steve's words sounded more like a suggestion than a question.
"I've had similar assumptions. Maybe the doctor's actions were the reason for Shiller choosing to become a psychotherapist, utilizing the same ideals and knowledge to rescue others," Stark replied.
"And he succeeded," Steve nodded and asserted.
"...But fell slightly short," Stark changed position, propping up his chin with his hand, asking, "What comforted me when I was anxious and confused?"
"Perhaps it was Shiller's plans to propel me and my surroundings forward, but more so, it was the strength he displayed as a doctor," Stark continued.
"...A calm strength," Steve interjected, "It's always the sense of security that calm, powerful actions bring, not irritation, madness, or impatience that can soothe others."
"At that time, he was calmer than all of us," Stark shook his head slightly, adding: "It appeared as if he had answers to all the questions we couldn't fathom."
"He was more like a doctor back then. Have you heard about Professor X's theory that psychiatrists must maintain a certain distance from their patients?" Stark raised an eyebrow, causing wrinkles to appear on his forehead.
Steve shook his head, but still said, "In fact, as our familiarity with him increased, we saw more of his madness, and then we wanted to heal that madness. From that time on, he began to resemble a patient more than a doctor."
"But now it appears that he wants to revert to being a doctor," Stark intertwined his hands, caressing the back of one hand with the other, and continued, "Because he remembered the doctor who once cured him. The point isn't whether the doctor is alive or where he is now, but what he had taught Shiller, and why Shiller unswervingly embarked on the same path."
"For the things mentioned in textbooks?" Steve asked, his head down but eyes raised.
"Possibly also to have more idealists in this world," Stark's countenance softened—a rare occurrence—sans his usual sarcastic smirk and frequently annoyed furrows. He looked into Steve's blue eyes as he spoke.
"The doctor cured him and made him realize how much beneficial change a person's abundant spiritual power and ideals can bring to the world. So, he healed us, enabling us to spare more thoughts for the welfare of humankind."
"Ideally, we should have continued this transmission. But his exposed madness had compelled us to focus more on him, just to prevent him from harming himself. As a result, we didn't really treat the anxiety and confusion of the people around us."
"So he's normal now?" Steve again glanced in Shiller's direction, which led past the island platform, adding, "To ensure this transmission continues?"
"More like pretending to be normal." Stark was not quite as optimistic, he said, "He has turned from a patient into a doctor once again."
"Should we continue trying to treat him?" Steve asked.
"I think it would be better to leave that to Professor X," Stark let out a gentle sigh before responding, "Let the professionals do what they do best."
"Professor X is a bit too professional." Steve breathed out as though he had just relaxed.
Suddenly, he erupted in a low chuckle, his brawny arm shook along with it. Placing the last piece of firewood into the fireplace, he spoke, "Our doctor is returning, isn't he?"
"Indeed, that also means that we will have to undergo regular professional mental evaluations and I will once again have to shell out a hefty sum for mental health management bills," Stark replied.
"Thanks for your generous contribution, Tony. This Sunday afternoon, I should probably see Nick arrogantly showing off his new fishing rod," Steve added.
A hand reached over Stark's shoulder, placing a cup of coffee in front of him. Stark turned around to see Shiller had already walked past the fireplace and was now placing another cup of coffee in front of Steve.
Shiller then walked back to the island platform, balancing the last cup of coffee in his hand, and sat down on the single sofa by the fireplace. He relaxed his waist, leaned back into the couch, took a sip of the steaming hot coffee, and let out a satisfied sigh.
"What were you two just talking about?" Shiller asked.
"Nick's new fishing rod," Steve picking up the biscuit onto the plate and placing the plate on the tabletop, responded, "Courtesy of the generous Tony Stark."
"And as usual, we were talking about us," Stark added.
"You two?" Shiller took a sip of his coffee, turned to look at the snow falling again outside the window and asked.
"Sorry, but I don't provide emotional counseling here, especially about Iron Man and Captain America," Shiller added as the final word.