[Axe - and he's almost laughing at the idea that either of would need an axe, because really, murder is so much goddamn effort. The display though is mesmerising for the short time it lasts. Then there's the photo, and he knows before Steve turns it around, exactly who it's of.
He reaches for it. Turns it over, and at first he isn't sure what to do. There's a strange sting in his eyes, a horrible little turn in his gut. His finger traces over the figure, and finally, finally he smiles. A real smile. He doesn't lash out; he doesn't scream, or succumb to paranoia (and it's there, always), he just looks at his mother in the dress he last remembers her in, and he smiles. ]
Yeah. [Empathetic. He gets it now. He feels very seen, even if Steve is completely clueless.] Yeah. It's my mom.
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He reaches for it. Turns it over, and at first he isn't sure what to do. There's a strange sting in his eyes, a horrible little turn in his gut. His finger traces over the figure, and finally, finally he smiles. A real smile. He doesn't lash out; he doesn't scream, or succumb to paranoia (and it's there, always), he just looks at his mother in the dress he last remembers her in, and he smiles. ]
Yeah. [Empathetic. He gets it now. He feels very seen, even if Steve is completely clueless.] Yeah. It's my mom.