Steve hadn't been optimistic when faced with what was before them, but he also had no experience with actually losing. When it came down to it, his team had always come together and been the exception. They'd pulled through and goodness, perhaps by The Grace of God had prevailed. But not then, and that tore at him, kept him awake at night and lay heavy on his shoulders. Had they been wrong to fight? Had he been the weak link? Had his feud with Tony been what caused the deaths of countless beings across the universe. He looked away, not really looking at anything just looking as that swirl of panic teased the edges of his vision. So Steve breathed slow and even, focused on where his feet lay on the ground and kept him connected to something.
What else was there to say? Dammit was about it. Steve set down his cup and ran both hands through his hair before bracing his elbows on his knees. "Over a month," he said with a little shrug, the apology appreciated but not acknowledges.
"And now I don't know, you're here, where's here? Can we regroup and try again? What's brought us here?" There was only questions and Steve sighed rather than work himself up into some ranting and grief stricken man. "I just don't know."