“I don’t know,” he admits reluctantly. “If I did, I…” sure as hell wouldn’t be here, but maybe that means it’s a good thing that he doesn’t know. Maybe him being out there, hunting down whoever took Steve from them wouldn’t do any damn good, maybe him being here will. Maybe that’s just what he’s telling himself.

He pushes his hands down the front of his legs, like the motion will clean off the rest of the blood trapped under his nails and in the creases of his fingers.

Steve’s blood, but he can't let himself dwell on that.

“I know. It shouldn’t have been him, if I could’ve made it me, I would’ve in a heartbeat.” Shit, if he’d been just a bit sooner, just a little bit… “But we can’t change it, and right now, we just gotta keep going, make sure next time, we do better. We have to keep going, for him. For us, because we’re stronger than that, we’re too strong to let them win.”