Steve took his shirt off.

Hit him hard! circled his upper arm.

The inside of his wrist, on his other arm, had a wavering apology: To all of you, sorry for everything...

On his jutting collarbone was another message, harsh, angry, black and jagged: You're a sore loser, Captain America.

There were more words across his back, running down his spine. Many more of them. He couldn't read those so well. But he knew what they said, each one.

"Oh," the doctor said, very softly. His eyes had gone wide.

"Yeah," Steve said, wearily. "'Oh.'"