[ No, Steve has never been very good at wallowing. He'll usually let himself have a moment or two, though, whether that's alone or with friends. At Peggy's funeral, Natasha had found him after, pushing past any fissures between them to give him a tight hug. And at Natasha's funeral? Well, it hadn't been much, but that's apparently how she preferred it. He and the rest of the Avengers had worked through it together.

Any family? someone had asked, and Steve had been the one to say us.

As Steve explains his day, almost on autopilot, he can see Sam nod along but can tell that his thoughts are somewhere else entirely. And he doesn't even blame him, because for as many people as they've lost and grieved over the years, it's never easy. It's something they weather because there's no other choice.

Steve could explain about the robot dinosaurs, about how they're from Aloy's version of Earth, but he doesn't have the energy to do that right now. ]

Yeah, that's a fair point. It'd be a hell of a lot worse if these things were tearing through the city streets. We just need them to stay in one place long enough to deal with them.

[ Steve watches, then, as Sam drains the rest of his glass like it's nothing. He lets out a low whistle, knowing how it must burn going down, and then reaches out to give Sam a hard thump on the shoulder. ]

We'll figure it out. [ He lets out a small, derisive laugh and shakes his head. ] It's not like this is the first time we've had to field something like this.