It had been 5 years after the Avengers lost and split up for the second time. The shock and terror of Thanos' decimation had subsided and was replaced in the populace with grief, terrible everlasting grief. Steve had decided to run a support group to help those left move on. He did it to honour his fallen friend Sam Wilson although his sessions only ever got a handful of people. Though they never said it, seeing Captain America in his weakened state was just another painful reminder of everything that was gone. The symbol of hope became the symbol of loss.
Steve was reminded of that every week when some of the people he was supporting wouldn't even look him in the eye. This was an ongoing problem for one man in particular, Russell.
"So I, uh... Went on a date the other day. It's the first time in five years, you know? I'm sitting there at dinner... I didn't even know what to talk about." He muttered to the floor.
"What did you talk about?" asked Steve gently
"Same old crap, you know? How things have changed, and... my job, his job... How much we miss the Mets. And then things get quiet... He cried as they were serving the salads."
"What about you?"
"I cried... just before dessert. But I'm seeing him again tomorrow, so..."
"That's great. You did the hardest part. You took the jump, you didn't know where you were gonna come down. And that's it. That's those little brave baby steps we gotta take. To try and become whole again, try and find purpose. I went in the ice in '45 right after I met the love of my life. Woke up 70 years later. I tried to continue being Captain America and it didn't work out in the end. You gotta move on. Gotta to move on. The world is in our hands. It's left to us guys, and we got to do something with it. Otherwise... Thanos should have killed all of us."
Russell looked up for the first time in the session and Steve almost saw a hint of a smile.