"Yes," he says, relieved yet again to have something to do, and that it's something he wants. He is hungry, as long as he doesn't think about everything else going on.

He practically inhales the food, grateful (not for the first time) that Olivia knows what his appetite is like. Steve scrapes the bottom of several containers before he even slows, and by the time he's full there's very little left to stash in the fridge. He sits back against the couch, careful of his injuries this time, and rubs his thumb across a speckle of something gravy-like on his shirt. "Much, much better than hospital food."