“John F. Walker, it is the order of this council that you are no longer to act in any capacity as a representative of the United States government or its military. You are hereby stripped of your title and authority as Captain América, effective immediately.” The words were still in his mind, syllable by syllable, word by word. He had been drinking ever since, trying to forget what the biggest fall of his life had been like.

He had it all, for a short time, but he had it! John felt he deserved it, that he was good enough for it, only to find out that he didn't become Captain by being the Captain, but because they needed someone who was even remotely similar, he wasn't, he never could be, no matter how hard he tried.

“I'm a highly decorated soldier,” he said, sharing a beer with you as you sat at the foot of the big window of the—former—Avengers Tower. Looking down, he sighed, closing his eyes to the reality that fell on his shoulders every day. “I was, at least. I was married too, what a shitty life.”

Chuckling bitterly, he took another sip from the beer bottle before handing it back to you. You'd be lying if you said your life hadn't gone downhill in the past few years, you've also been through dark times, maybe you were still trying to find some light. “Yeah... I was an avenger,” You rested your head against the window glass as you spoke, your eyes not fixed on John, not fixed on anything—you were just thinking. “I used to think I could fly... Here I am.”

It was a complicated way of saying it, but it didn't hurt anymore at that point, there were facts that had been consummated for some time. “Huh? Fly? You seem pretty down to earth now.” It actually seemed strange to him to think that you weren't the cold, sarcastic person he'd met in that vault before, you meant you were a dreamer, were. Kinda sad, he thought.

This feeling of falling was all that connected the people in this tower, each one, the New Avengers, seemed ironic. “I joined the Avengers too early... I think that's what gave me the feeling of being able to fly,” thinking about the past few years felt... tense, you swallowed hard before taking a sip of the beer. “But... After the blip, I kinda lost control and... I don't know, I just thought I had to get away from everything until I got better, but it turns out I didn't get better.”

He listened to you in silence, without any smart comments, just understanding, as if for the first time he was seeing a vulnerable part of someone, of you. John had lost his best friend, his only friend, this made him think that he'd never have anyone by his side again, not like Lemar was.

“Well, I guess I used to think I could fly too.” Not that he had been much of a dreamer, but he had lived in heaven for a while, with what he felt he deserved until it all had been taken away from him. He had lived for that, suddenly he had nothing, not even his wife or his son. “And I fell face down on the ground.”

He gave you a smirk, it was just an attempt to lighten the mood, a very low attempt—he never knew how to handle these situations well, it seemed a little too heavy, but he was willing to listen to you and be heard.