God's righteous man, Ultron had mocked to his face a few years back. Pretending you could live without a war. Steve had to acknowledge he wasn't wrong. The vision Wanda pulled out of his head, it wasn't wrong either. He is half strung-out, bone-weary, combat fatigue personified. Half of him wants to go home.
The other half? Will never be able to stop fighting, because that means having to face what's left.
Visiting the Nexus has only driven that point home, in some ways. No matter how much people encourage him to expand his horizons, take time to relax and recover, to be Steve Rogers, he's restless and adrift there, friendly with everyone but not, in the end, all that close to any. But there is one idea that's caught at him relentlessly since his arrival there, and that's the inescapable visual of kids fighting wars.
Most of them probably don't see it that way. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Men, just doing what they can, what they innocently assume any good person would do. Every time he thinks about that, it hurts. And he has plenty to do in his own world, collecting the proliferating alien weaponry across the planet, breaking up and hunting down remnants of HYDRA, and ducking the law. But here there's an opportunity for something more, something gentler, something that's not fighting and might, in the long term, keep people from ending up in the psychological catch-22 he's gotten himself into.
There's no Nexus real estate office, but there are people who have a clear idea of what land and buildings can be claimed and what can be done with them. Steve has somehow, through funds scraped together, favors called in, and contacts made, become the proud owner of what was once some kind of diner or restaurant. The building is a decent size, two floors, with a lot of the appliances and furnishings still inside it and still working. Including a jukebox, which is what he's looking at right now, outside the front of the building. He's got most of it taken apart and spread neatly on blankets on the grass, and he's methodically cleaning it bit by bit.
The long term plan is a safe house he can set up for the costumed-hero types here that have nowhere else to go if something goes wrong. The kids, specifically. He won't be able to be here all the time, himself, but he can put it together and give what he can. Fill it up with food and medical supplies, maybe put in some bunks, some security--
Well, the plans are still evolving, but it's something.
The other half? Will never be able to stop fighting, because that means having to face what's left.
Visiting the Nexus has only driven that point home, in some ways. No matter how much people encourage him to expand his horizons, take time to relax and recover, to be Steve Rogers, he's restless and adrift there, friendly with everyone but not, in the end, all that close to any. But there is one idea that's caught at him relentlessly since his arrival there, and that's the inescapable visual of kids fighting wars.
Most of them probably don't see it that way. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Men, just doing what they can, what they innocently assume any good person would do. Every time he thinks about that, it hurts. And he has plenty to do in his own world, collecting the proliferating alien weaponry across the planet, breaking up and hunting down remnants of HYDRA, and ducking the law. But here there's an opportunity for something more, something gentler, something that's not fighting and might, in the long term, keep people from ending up in the psychological catch-22 he's gotten himself into.
There's no Nexus real estate office, but there are people who have a clear idea of what land and buildings can be claimed and what can be done with them. Steve has somehow, through funds scraped together, favors called in, and contacts made, become the proud owner of what was once some kind of diner or restaurant. The building is a decent size, two floors, with a lot of the appliances and furnishings still inside it and still working. Including a jukebox, which is what he's looking at right now, outside the front of the building. He's got most of it taken apart and spread neatly on blankets on the grass, and he's methodically cleaning it bit by bit.
The long term plan is a safe house he can set up for the costumed-hero types here that have nowhere else to go if something goes wrong. The kids, specifically. He won't be able to be here all the time, himself, but he can put it together and give what he can. Fill it up with food and medical supplies, maybe put in some bunks, some security--
Well, the plans are still evolving, but it's something.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-17 04:28 am (UTC)And she loves to think she's the only one capable of getting her hands dirty when it comes to any kind of problem. As if Steve Rogers hasn't done horrible things during his time in The War. Or since, in some of their other battles. He's only human.
But while Natasha talked to his clean faced double, Steve's found himself an empty room upstairs that might be planned to be used as some kind of a dorm eventually. It's got a long wall on one side unbroken by windows or other fixtures. And Steve, bored of poking around the place after a few minutes really can't help himself.
He starts with a rough sketch on the back of a napkin and holds it up in front of the wall while he hums thoughtful noises devoid of the shape of words before turning back to his little napkin.
If what his counterpart is building is a sanctuary, then maybe it should start to look more like home. Maybe, despite everything, a part of Steve's heart will always be in New York. Or maybe it's because after all this time he finds a relaxing calm at drawing the cityscape of his home from memory because it's the only place where that time exists anymore.
In his head with all the other fragments he's never sure are real or not these days.
"If I got sleepy you and I both know the lack of a comfortable place to crash wouldn't stop me any." He's slept on the hard ground with very little to protect him from the elements more times than he can remember. "I got distracted thinking of all the possibilities you've got here for a mural."
no subject
Date: 2018-12-18 02:22 am (UTC)"Sometimes it's easier to sleep on a floor than a bed, I guess. Don't take what I said about the infirmary as a recommendation, by the way. Your feet'd hang off the end of the cot."
He looks up at his counterpart, then turns toward the blank wall with a thoughtful little smile. "A mural, huh? That's a lot of painting. Are you volunteering to help?"
no subject
Date: 2018-12-19 05:21 pm (UTC)Maybe not as much of an issue for them as it was for Thor, but those kid beds were not made for a super soldier to sleep on. Steve's not sure about all of them, but he knows he ended up on the floor after the second the bed he'd been relegated to creaked in protest. A spot of a good memory amid the muddied waters of the Ultron incident.
Or at least not a traumatic memory, which some day sis all he can ask for.
"As if I'd let you get to hog all the fun." Steve tucks the pencil behind his ear before handing the scrap of napkin over to his counterpart. "S'only my first idea, but. It's a start."
((OOC:I don't have anything specific in mind for this thing, we can talk about it OOC if you'd like. My Steve tends to draw 1940's Brooklyn a lot whenever he's feeling down or lonely so it's likely a cityscape he's sketched out here.))
no subject
Date: 2018-12-26 04:57 pm (UTC)Those were fighting words, but it was a pretty friendly fight.
He accepts the napkin with a smile. "I've got a sketchbook here. You could've borrowed it."
He looks it over, holds it up to the wall to imagine, and sighs the sigh of wistful nostalgia. "No one but us is gonna get it, you know. But I like it. Soft colors? Earth tones, but not too brown?"
no subject
Date: 2018-12-29 06:02 pm (UTC)Steve rubs at the back of his neck and gives a slightly guilty chuckle. It's nostalgic, talking about those times. And sure, he wonders how different those moments were between the two of them. How much was the same. He's worried if he asks though, he'll never stop.
"Maybe not everything has to be for them." Steve mumbles back but shrugs his shoulders. But the other one likes it? Well, good. Steve nods along with the color choices. "Some sepia wouldn't go amiss there, but something something instagram filter jokes if we go too far with it."