Steve pursed his lips, which added to his scowl while also holding any quick-tempered words in check for a moment. Because dammit, she had a point. And it hurt, hearing her talk; more, to hear her speak to him, with that voice, in that accent, as if he were a complete stranger. Because to her, he was. Because no matter that she was the spitting image... This wasn't his Marie. It couldn't be.
He'd known she wasn't, intellectually, because Marie had been completely human, completely normal, and normal humans didn't live for near-seventy years and not age a day.
Hope springs eternal. There'd been a small spark of hope left in him, one he hadn't acknowledged, hadn't even known was there, that withered into ash as he took a deep breath, and accepted what he should have realized after that first jolt of shock at seeing her. She wasn't his.
Grief swam through him, seeming even heavier than when he'd first woken up, and realized what he'd lost. He squeezed his eyes shut, reaching up to press finger and thumb over them, taking another slow, deep breath.
"I'm sorry," he finally uttered, in a low, guttural voice. "I-- you-- You're right. I apologize. I thought... You look like a woman I kno-- knew." He didn't say my soulmate. He didn't say the only person I had left. He didn't need pity from a stranger, but especially one with Marie's face.
"I'm--" he glanced down at the outfit, still colorful despite the dust and blood coating it, the numerous rips. "Captain America. Steve. Sorry. Again."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2018-02-26 05:26 am (UTC)He'd known she wasn't, intellectually, because Marie had been completely human, completely normal, and normal humans didn't live for near-seventy years and not age a day.
Hope springs eternal. There'd been a small spark of hope left in him, one he hadn't acknowledged, hadn't even known was there, that withered into ash as he took a deep breath, and accepted what he should have realized after that first jolt of shock at seeing her. She wasn't his.
Grief swam through him, seeming even heavier than when he'd first woken up, and realized what he'd lost. He squeezed his eyes shut, reaching up to press finger and thumb over them, taking another slow, deep breath.
"I'm sorry," he finally uttered, in a low, guttural voice. "I-- you-- You're right. I apologize. I thought... You look like a woman I kno-- knew." He didn't say my soulmate. He didn't say the only person I had left. He didn't need pity from a stranger, but especially one with Marie's face.
"I'm--" he glanced down at the outfit, still colorful despite the dust and blood coating it, the numerous rips. "Captain America. Steve. Sorry. Again."