The two of them are quiet for a while. Matt listens to Steve's breathing and the faint noise of traffic, content to sit and wait until Steve unburdens himself in his own time. He doesn't know what makes him ask.
"If you could go back and do anything differently, would you?"
Steve lets out a little sigh.
"No. No, I don't think I would. You?"
He takes a moment to think about it.
"No."
"Good."
Matt smiles. "Do you ever doubt that you're doing the right thing?"
Doubt is his constant companion, doubt and guilt, and he knows he's a self-righteous asshole with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Being around Steve makes him feel a little less like he's alone.
"Everybody doubts. But you can't dwell on it. Guilt'll eat you alive."
The slight acceleration of Steve's pulse flags his awareness of the hypocrisy-- Matt's gotten to recognise it by now. He says nothing, although the corner of his mouth does turn up.
"I'm Catholic. Guilt is what I do."
"You got nothing to feel guilty about. What you do..."
He hears the shift in posture and grasps the dual meaning. He scoffs.
"I just do what any other guy blinded by hazardous chemicals would have done."
He's glad Steve can't hear his heartbeat or the way it picks up even as he tries to be laugh it off. There's something about being complimented by Steve Rogers that makes him squirm. Maybe it's the seriousness that hangs over Steve these days. Maybe it's just his own self-loathing. Even now he doesn't quite feel like he belongs here with these exceptional people.
Steve's hand rests on his shoulder, making him jump.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
Matt waves it away. "Just caught me off-guard."
He feels the intensity of Steve's gaze, the warmth of his hand and the proximity of the rest of him. Sometimes he's glad he isn't expected to make eye contact.
"You're a good man, Matt. I want you to remember that."
The tightness in his throat prevents him from speaking normally, so he nods and rasps, "Thank you."
FILL (MCU post Civil War, destined to be jossed) 2/?
"If you could go back and do anything differently, would you?"
Steve lets out a little sigh.
"No. No, I don't think I would. You?"
He takes a moment to think about it.
"No."
"Good."
Matt smiles. "Do you ever doubt that you're doing the right thing?"
Doubt is his constant companion, doubt and guilt, and he knows he's a self-righteous asshole with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Being around Steve makes him feel a little less like he's alone.
"Everybody doubts. But you can't dwell on it. Guilt'll eat you alive."
The slight acceleration of Steve's pulse flags his awareness of the hypocrisy-- Matt's gotten to recognise it by now. He says nothing, although the corner of his mouth does turn up.
"I'm Catholic. Guilt is what I do."
"You got nothing to feel guilty about. What you do..."
He hears the shift in posture and grasps the dual meaning. He scoffs.
"I just do what any other guy blinded by hazardous chemicals would have done."
He's glad Steve can't hear his heartbeat or the way it picks up even as he tries to be laugh it off. There's something about being complimented by Steve Rogers that makes him squirm. Maybe it's the seriousness that hangs over Steve these days. Maybe it's just his own self-loathing. Even now he doesn't quite feel like he belongs here with these exceptional people.
Steve's hand rests on his shoulder, making him jump.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
Matt waves it away. "Just caught me off-guard."
He feels the intensity of Steve's gaze, the warmth of his hand and the proximity of the rest of him. Sometimes he's glad he isn't expected to make eye contact.
"You're a good man, Matt. I want you to remember that."
The tightness in his throat prevents him from speaking normally, so he nods and rasps, "Thank you."