3 sentence fic: Capsicoul (duh), Doctor Phil/Patient Steve ((sorry it's late... I've been traveling))
Steve was not always good at reading people, he knew it, and when he stepped into this doctor’s surgery in the middle of the night, he wondered if the blue eyed man would help him, or report him despite his nice face.
Coulson examined his wounds, took some blood samples and Steve let him, even if that made him a bit uncomfortable. The doctor was bent over his microscope, checking the samples when he let out a soft gasp and turned his wide eyes towards Steve.
"You… you’re patient 119.81.40!" Coulson whispered reverently before holding his hand out. "I… It’s an honor to meet you, officially. I’ve read all the reports about the Manhattan Project, you truly are a miracle."
Steve winced but shook his hand anyway. “Then you must know why I ran away,” he sighed. “Are you gonna denounce me?”
"You can trust me," Coulson smiled. "You’re safe here. Let’s find a painkiller that might work for you, then you’ll tell me if you need anything. You can sleep here tonight if you want, I’m not supposed to work for another two days."
As he opened a drawer to pick several bottles, the doctor whispered to himself, “Patient 119.81.40… in my office, I can’t believe it, it’s a dream come true!”
