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.
"Doctor! Doctor! Let me hide!"
Peter Parker's young, vocal, and even thunderous cries echoed from the doorway; the gusting wind he brought in buffetted the fireplace flames, swaying as if to die out.
The young man squeezed in through the doorway, deftly reaching into the adjacent shoe cabinet for a "Not Receiving" sign which he hung on the outer door hook, then he extended his arm to press the most left button near the door, triggering the outer metal shutter door to slowly close.
The room was dim, only lit by the fireplace's glow. Suddenly, it was as if night had fallen. Peter's movements so swift that the other three didn't have time to stop him. What followed was even more baffling for them.
Peter hurried through the living room and into the deep kitchen. From the bottom of the leftmost cabinet, he fished out a bottle of Scotch whisky. Using a crystal glass nearby, he poured himself a shot, then raised his head to gulp it down like medicine.
Only then did he sigh, standing next to the island counter. The three others sitting by the fireplace were all staring in wide-eyed surprise, as if they were witnessing a life running away and barely breathing. They looked stunned and curious yet hesitant.
What kind of troubles could drive Spider Man to drown his sorrows in alcohol? No one dared to ask this question. It sounded like the ringing of the doomsday bell, the warning alarm of a world-ending flood.
"Sorry, but I need some courage."
Peter said between breathes. He encouraged himself to face the alcohol, not used to it, his mouth distorted, followed by a dazed expression.
"Shocking." Shiller remarked, with one leg over the other and his hands on his knees.
"You're going to say you are of legal age." Steve cut in before Peter could answer. "But no one here would tell you that you can't drink. We just want to know why you are drinking."
Peter slumped against the island counter as if all his strength had drained away. He groaned, throwing himself onto the counter's surface, like a bird that had fallen into the wheat fields.
"My recklessness revealed Gwen's secret identity to another version of her to George, so I have to go explain everything to him instead of letting Gwen deal with it alone."
"Gwen Spiderman chased me around wanting to smack me, but she's not even the issue. How am I supposed to talk to George about this? He's going to say I'm a bad influence on Gwen."
"I think you can try..."
"The problem is I am! If she hadn't dated me, she wouldn't have known about the other Spider Men, and she wouldn't have risked helping Gwen Spiderman earn credits!"
Peter threw himself face down onto the countertop, pressing half of his face against the cold marble, soothing the burning sensation from the alcohol.
"Why don't you say the dinosaurs went extinct because you weren't alive 66 million years ago?" Stark sarcastically said.
However, Peter suddenly paused, gave out a louder moan, and said, "Why wasn't I born 66 million years ago? That way, I would have been able to handle both the dinosaurs' extinction and the problem I'm facing now!"
Shiller found it amusing. Spider Man often found himself tangled in similar troubles due to his high moral standards. At its root, it was because Peter Parker couldn't grasp the concept of shirking responsibility.
"Turning into a dinosaur isn't likely to solve your problems, Peter," Shiller diplomatically replied, figuring Peter didn't need yet another reminder of reality.
"But it could allow me to..."
"It could allow you to temporarily evade, 'temporarily'." Shiller emphasized the last word, leaning back on the sofa armrest and watching Peter.
Peter reluctantly got up from the countertop and took three steps before taking another look back, eventually he plodded toward the fireplace. He didn't bother to bring a chair for himself and instead sat directly on the floor between Shiller and Stark's sofas, ruffling his own hair with frustration.
"I suggest you reconsider my previous suggestion, Peter." Shiller once again brought up the topic, adding: "I stick by my opinion. If a more shocking fact is presented to George, you'd get through this crisis smoothly."
"But George already knows Gwen is..."
"But he doesn't know the rumors between you and Tony, or Gwen and Tony, or Tony and Steve, or you and Tony, or Gwen and...well, there could be rumors between any of you. Trust me, these rumors would be far more shocking than anything related to Spider Man."
"Good Lord!"
Stark pushed his back against the chair, as if he wanted to vanish into it. However, he couldn't leave, so he kept his gaze fixated on Shiller and asked.
"Swear to me that this is the first time you've thought of this, out of a sudden burst of inspiration, as well as a joke, it was never part of any feasible plan that could have possibly been put into practice, and it won't be in the future either..."
"Sorry to disappoint you," Shiller said, handing Peter a biscuit. "It's a premeditated, well-thought-out part of a plan that should have been put into practice long ago - if you still don't have a spouse in the legal sense"
"What's wrong with this world?" Stark began to roll his eyes again, poking his fingers into his cheek, mumbling: "Why can't a lonely playboy still be given his own space?"
"When people attribute beauty to a certain link in social life, if you don't appreciate it, they'll kick you out. Seems fair to me," Shiller said, laughing.
Stark turned his eyeballs to look at him and said, "It's been a while since you made such a philosophical statement, but it's still all nonsense, and you're always trying to contaminate my brain."
"Peter, I think you should go now, because George will be getting off work soon, and you still don't have the possibility of turning into a dinosaur," Steve glanced at Peter, then pointed to the bottle of liquor on the island counter's tabletop, saying, "But before you leave, you can have a bit more courage, just don't drink too much."
"No thanks." Peter crawled up from the ground using his hands and feet, holding his head, saying, "That was just a joke, courage doesn't come from industrial spirits. If I leave George with the impression of a drunk, George will kill me faster than the Cretaceous asteroid."
Peter heaved a deep sigh. On his young face, with deep worries, it added a touch of mature charm to his ever-cheerful and energetic youthful demeanor. Stark encouraged, "Keep the state you're in, George will understand."
"God bless, I hope so," Peter said, walking towards the doorway. But he got up too quickly, the undigested alcohol rushed to his forehead all at once, that when another dark figure fell through the portal, his faintly resonating Spider-sense didn't stop him from walking forward.
The two bumped head on, "Bang", Peter was fine, the other figure sat on the ground holding their nose. Hearing the cries of pain, Peter nearly jumped as if pricked by a thorn under his foot.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't watch where I was going, are you okay, Loki?"
Loki stood up from the ground, rubbing his nose and forehead vigorously, and said, "Why is it that every time I appear in front of Tony Stark, I always bump into something, but he just sits there from afar, laughing at everything with his stupid laugh?"
Then, he waved at Peter indicating he was fine and that Peter should go back to what he was doing. Once Peter left, Loki walked to the fireplace and put his elbow on top of it, asking, "Do you have any booze?"
Shiller put down his coffee cup and stood up, took a bottle of tequila from the wine rack below the cupboard, poured a little, then turned to find the ice. He said while shoveling ice, "It seems like every time you visit me, you always look worried."
"Who walks into a therapist's office laughing?" Loki scoffed, "They should see a psychiatrist then."
"What's wrong? Who's wronged you this time? Thor, your brother, or the Divine King of Asgard?"
"Coincidentally, it's not him this time," Loki sneered, then the same sort of worry crawled onto his face, similarly to Peter's earlier, and said, "But he's not entirely innocent, it's Frigga."
But at this time Steve suddenly laughed, Loki and Stark both looked at him, Steve covered his mouth and said, "I guess neither of you have been keeping tabs on our animal friends lately, Spider-Pig, Pikachu, and that raccoon are all playing together, and they've also brought along Crocodile Loki."
"I guess your rushed hideaway to Earth must be for the same reason as Crocodile Loki," Steve looked up at Loki and said, "Frigga is trying to get you married."
"Perfect deduction," Loki sincerely praised, then with a sense of despair said, "Frigga surpassed Odin, of course, this is my planned result, I thought she would always be a bit better than the Father of All Gods, but I overlooked a fact, a very important fact."
"Now there are several Lokis in Asgard, and after Frigga questioned each of them, she found out that the marital rate among Lokis is pitiful, especially when compared to Thor, most Lokis don't even date, let alone get married."
"This fact made Frigga very panicked. She thinks if I can't get enough love from the great family of the Father of All Gods, then I should at least build a small family of my own, to receive love from enough family members."
"Then, she adopted a very old and traditional way to pick a suitable match for me - blind dating."
Stark covered his eyes, but Steve said, "You mean like a mixer? That's pretty normal, right. For young people with a narrow social circle, mixers are a great way to meet the opposite gender. Peggy and I met at a military mixer."
"No, not that kind of party where a bunch of people sit around drinking, chatting, and playing games. It's even older than that," Loki shook his head.
"You mean one on one? That can be a bit awkward," Stark said, clearly gloating, then he raised his voice a little and said, "You must have used your sharp words and clever mind to deter every blind date, haven't you?"
But who knew, Loki shook his head again, held two fingers together and said, "Just a little bit older than that."
Now, both sitting by the sofa didn't know what Loki was talking about. Loki heaved a deep sigh, then said.
"To put it simply - I hide, whoever can defeat the other hunters and find me, wins."