[ It's not the first time that Steve's worn this look around Sam, not by a long shot, and they're close enough now that he's able to beat back the guilt of letting himself slip into it around him. They both know that they'll pull each other back from the edge of that cliff each and every time, and usually one of them is able to hold strong when the other starts to splinter. It's similar to what he has with Natasha, and both of them mean the world to him. It's been good to see them again after so long.
The native Abraxans who the cultists chose to take were loners, people who didn't have anyone looking for them. Steve had gathered as much, but hearing it confirmed makes his jaw clench. Of course the cultists had picked them, preying on the most vulnerable for whatever it is they were trying to accomplish.
When Sam grips for his shoulder Steve finally glances back to him, nodding as he reaches up to place his hand over Sam's. It's good to have the grounding force, and while he'll make his way back from all this, just like he always has, it means a lot to know he's got people in his corner who will help. ]
Yeah. It could've been worse, it definitely could've been worse. [ He thinks of the woman that he and Nero helped out, and how there's no way she would have made it otherwise. He's got to take the victories where he can. As for a commemoration, it just feels like every other war memorial. Or the one that had been put up after the Snap, with name after name after name. Steve had visited once before deciding that it was a bad idea.
He sucks in an almost silent breath and stares up into Sam's face, finding some small comfort in his unwavering expression. ] I know. We need to figure out what the hell this was even all for. [ He nods to the bandages carefully wound around his arms. The ritual wounds are hidden underneath, and the seeping blood and pus have already started to stain the white cloth. He'll be cured soon enough, he knows, but that doesn't change the fact that he wants answers. ]
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The native Abraxans who the cultists chose to take were loners, people who didn't have anyone looking for them. Steve had gathered as much, but hearing it confirmed makes his jaw clench. Of course the cultists had picked them, preying on the most vulnerable for whatever it is they were trying to accomplish.
When Sam grips for his shoulder Steve finally glances back to him, nodding as he reaches up to place his hand over Sam's. It's good to have the grounding force, and while he'll make his way back from all this, just like he always has, it means a lot to know he's got people in his corner who will help. ]
Yeah. It could've been worse, it definitely could've been worse. [ He thinks of the woman that he and Nero helped out, and how there's no way she would have made it otherwise. He's got to take the victories where he can. As for a commemoration, it just feels like every other war memorial. Or the one that had been put up after the Snap, with name after name after name. Steve had visited once before deciding that it was a bad idea.
He sucks in an almost silent breath and stares up into Sam's face, finding some small comfort in his unwavering expression. ] I know. We need to figure out what the hell this was even all for. [ He nods to the bandages carefully wound around his arms. The ritual wounds are hidden underneath, and the seeping blood and pus have already started to stain the white cloth. He'll be cured soon enough, he knows, but that doesn't change the fact that he wants answers. ]