The idea that anyone beyond the US Government would be watching him as a possible threat for world domination actually makes Steve laugh. It's not big or loud, but there's amusement in it that even reaches his eyes. He hasn't laughed, genuinely, in such a long time that it almost feels foreign.
Everything lately has felt so heavy and dark.
"Well, let me assure you that I don't exactly have any world- takeovers planned in the near future. Just trying to help put it all back together instead. It's what people expect of me."
And it isn't that Steve doesn't want to do it, but he can't remember a moment of reprieve since he came out of the ice. He woke and hit the ground running, with all eyes on him, expecting him to be the very same energetic, optimistic hero he'd been before he crashed that plane into the water. Even now, when he stands before the public eye, he has a person that they inherently expect, and it's a role he has to fill.
Time away, though, doesn't sound terrible. Even if it fills him with an aching sort of guilt for even having the thought. It's Stephen's follow-up question that has him pausing, blinking over the cup of hot tea. They're colleagues in battle, and not truly friends, and yet something about all of this seems to disarm Steve, his shoulders rounding just a little.
The facade, slipping.
"I'm doing as well as anyone."
How do you do what they did and come out feeling whole again? Maybe it's easier for the others - who finished the battle, attended a funeral, and went back to their lives. It's only just started ending for Steve, really.
"I returned the Stones to their rightful places, came back. Took me a little longer than expected, but. Now I'm just trying to lend a hand where I can. Not sure where else I am better needed than that."
Steve is acutely aware that that is not the question he was asked. "How about you?"
Now that is an interesting thing to say. The Captain America of times past would, perhaps, have stopped at saying that he was just trying to help put the world back together. But that little add-on, and the tiniest of slumps in Steve's shoulders, are adding up towards a picture that Stephen hadn't expected.
"I just spent the last week skipping between dimensions trying to stop a grief-stricken witch from killing a teenager, I'm very well-rested," Stephen replies dryly, taking a sip of his tea. It's a little spicy, a little fruity, and exactly what he needs to reinvigorate the senses. Steve clearly isn't telling the whole story; Stephen isn't going to either. Telling Steve everything wouldn't serve any kind of useful purpose right now.
He watches Steve thoughtfully, eyes bright in the afternoon light coming in through the nearby window. Golden motes of dust, dust that seems to permanently accompany everything in this place, dance in the air as he shifts, crossing one leg over the other.
"I'm a little surprised you didn't choose to stay in the past," he says, blunt as ever. "One of the Stones came from your original timeline, didn't it? It would have been an easy thing to save that one for last, and simply stay in a time you're more familiar with." Captain America's struggles with adjusting to the present time are well-documented, though Stephen really only knows about it because of the occasional headline he'd glimpsed and not through any heart-to-hearts with any of the Avengers.
no subject
Everything lately has felt so heavy and dark.
"Well, let me assure you that I don't exactly have any world- takeovers planned in the near future. Just trying to help put it all back together instead. It's what people expect of me."
And it isn't that Steve doesn't want to do it, but he can't remember a moment of reprieve since he came out of the ice. He woke and hit the ground running, with all eyes on him, expecting him to be the very same energetic, optimistic hero he'd been before he crashed that plane into the water. Even now, when he stands before the public eye, he has a person that they inherently expect, and it's a role he has to fill.
Time away, though, doesn't sound terrible. Even if it fills him with an aching sort of guilt for even having the thought. It's Stephen's follow-up question that has him pausing, blinking over the cup of hot tea. They're colleagues in battle, and not truly friends, and yet something about all of this seems to disarm Steve, his shoulders rounding just a little.
The facade, slipping.
"I'm doing as well as anyone."
How do you do what they did and come out feeling whole again? Maybe it's easier for the others - who finished the battle, attended a funeral, and went back to their lives. It's only just started ending for Steve, really.
"I returned the Stones to their rightful places, came back. Took me a little longer than expected, but. Now I'm just trying to lend a hand where I can. Not sure where else I am better needed than that."
Steve is acutely aware that that is not the question he was asked. "How about you?"
no subject
Now that is an interesting thing to say. The Captain America of times past would, perhaps, have stopped at saying that he was just trying to help put the world back together. But that little add-on, and the tiniest of slumps in Steve's shoulders, are adding up towards a picture that Stephen hadn't expected.
"I just spent the last week skipping between dimensions trying to stop a grief-stricken witch from killing a teenager, I'm very well-rested," Stephen replies dryly, taking a sip of his tea. It's a little spicy, a little fruity, and exactly what he needs to reinvigorate the senses. Steve clearly isn't telling the whole story; Stephen isn't going to either. Telling Steve everything wouldn't serve any kind of useful purpose right now.
He watches Steve thoughtfully, eyes bright in the afternoon light coming in through the nearby window. Golden motes of dust, dust that seems to permanently accompany everything in this place, dance in the air as he shifts, crossing one leg over the other.
"I'm a little surprised you didn't choose to stay in the past," he says, blunt as ever. "One of the Stones came from your original timeline, didn't it? It would have been an easy thing to save that one for last, and simply stay in a time you're more familiar with." Captain America's struggles with adjusting to the present time are well-documented, though Stephen really only knows about it because of the occasional headline he'd glimpsed and not through any heart-to-hearts with any of the Avengers.