"Yeah," Tony repeated because it looked like Steve was sort of getting there on his own, and that meant that -- there were still some memories or something of them deep down in his head. There had to be maybe, or else this would all be overwhelming and Steve wouldn't just be standing there hugging his sketchbook and looking like he had some deep things to be contemplating. No, he'd be flipping his shit, most likely. Tony knew if the situations were reversed, he would be, anyway.
Well, he might still, but he figured he'd wait on it. See what happened for a bit before getting to that point.
"Your chest--? Oh. Okay, yeah. That's." That made sense. Because Steve was little and riddled with illness and that was his normal back then. Luckily, Tony'd dealt with this already last time. Not that Steve had been a kid last time, but he had been small, and Tony had found some stuff to help. "We've got some medicine for you. In the bathroom. Sweaters in the closet." He got up then -- to wander over to the closet to find the smallest sweater available -- one of his own, instead of Steve's because Tony simply was smaller, and in this moment, that would help.