But I think maybe in that moment, Steve wanted to die.
He’d completed his mission. His team was safe. He was ready.
Because there’s nothing left for him in the future. His friends are dead, the woman he loves is fading away, and he just blew up their legacy.
He doesn’t belong here; he was supposed to die in 1945.
Finish it, he says, really finish it this time, no ice, no miracles, no mistakes. Finish it. Let this be the last mission. Let it be over. Let it end.
I’m with you to the end of the line, he says, because oh, they were both supposed to reach the end of the line so long ago. They were both robbed of their deaths, and it’s a sick joke, twisted, that they both ended up here, confused and alone in a future that can’t understand them, focused only on each other as the sky burns.
Finish it, he says, if you can, if there’s nothing left of you that remembers, then finish it, because if you’re not still in there, there’s nothing left for me here.
Finish it, he says, because I’m with you to the end of the line, because even if you don’t know me, even if you’re not him anymore, I’d still rather die with you than keep trying to live without you.