Like everyone else, Steve had put their downtime to good use. He had sorted through the world of issues that thinking you had been on fire had brought up, worked through most of those issues, and come to terms with the idea that somewhere out there, there could be a world (many worlds, but he wasn’t thinking about that) that he could lose the effects of the serum.

“I don’t think anyone could blame them, Luthien. If I didn’t know Arjay well enough to know he wouldn’t be spinning yarns, I’m not sure I’d believe it, either.”

The blown tire had Steve give a start, but he knew the sound, knew the feel of a vehicle that had just lost a tire. Steve handled the wheel with the same calm he’d been using the last however many miles he had been driving, pulling the van over to the side of the road with an almost resigned sigh even as he reached to reassure Luthien. “It’s just a tire. Most vans have a spare. We’ll lose a little bit of time changing them out, but it should be fine.”

He looked toward the back seat, “Do we have a jack?”

Steve was calm as he turned to look into the back of the van, looking to see if the van had a jack. It wasn’t as though the story Arjay had only just finished telling was forgotten, but in the face of the task that would be replacing the tire, Steve immediately got down to business.

He felt bad about how much work Queth had to do to straighten out her leg; she’d been trying to help him, after all - she had helped him, and in return she ended up with a messed up leg. It made him wish he could help her, and on that note, made him realize that certain friends of his could have helped Queth fix up her leg good as new. Which made him realize how much he missed the snarky engineer. And wasn’t that aggravating. He’d left to get away from Tony, and now that it came down to it, he missed the man, more than he maybe should. Definitely more than he had any right to, because it wasn’t the Tony from his own world that he was missing… It was the slightly different but more relatable mechanic he’d met in Hub that Steve wished had come on this quest with the rest of them…

Chuckling at Arjay’s question and Queth’s answer, Steve shook his head at the lack of a jack in the van. “I miss 2017. Or even 2012,” he said, looking surprised at the words even as he spoke them, “Jacks are pretty universal and constant then, and small enough that no one would think much of having one in the back of a car or van. It’s amazing, really, how small everything got…” Computers, telephones, everything shrank down into smaller and smaller versions of themselves. And more complicated. And… Steve shook his head again, “I think you’re right, though - don’t see one.” Instead he moved to follow Arjay out of the van to see about helping to change the tire.

“Caltrop.” Damn, that was definitely not a good sign. The gunfire only added to Steve’s surety that they weren’t alone out here (obviously) and he brought out his shield to block any bullets that would have otherwise managed to hit them. He covered himself and his elven friend, and when he saw the man keep coming even after Arjay buried the dagger to the hilt in the man’s chest, well… “Damn it.” Steve threw his shield to hit the three nearest the van before leaning in and groping for the sword, pulling it out and tossing it to his friend before reaching out and catching his shield. He pulled the rod that Arjay had given him that first day they’d fought together out and pressed the button that caused two half moon blades to slide out of the haft. Blunt force trauma hadn’t worked the last time, not really, but maybe this would be better, and while Steve wasn’t a fan of killing people, these… These men were not people. Not anymore, anyway.

Shield up and at the ready, battle axe in hand, Steve was just beginning to head into the fray with these men who weren’t really men when the shooting started. Immediately, Steve fell into a crouch, letting the bullets ping off of his shield, once again grateful to have it back in his care, to be fighting with it once more.

Of course, his friends did not have the shield, leaving them much more vulnerable to the attack than Steve was. He heard Luthien take the bullet and turned to make sure she was okay. Shoulder hit, she looked like she was going to be okay, but she was out of the fight, at least for now. Steve set eyes on Arjay, watching as he moved to try to defend the van, and Luthien.

Queth, it seemed, needed help the most as she dove headlong into the battle. In some ways, the elf reminded Steve of Natasha; she was graceful in combat, with aim that Steve had to respect. Steve didn’t sit back and wait. He charged forward, leading his entrance into the melee by throwing his shield to distract a few of them as he rushed them, following the toss of his shield with a swipe of the battle axe; one might dodge the blow, but Steve used his strength and reach to follow through with a long, wide arc. They couldn’t all dodge him. Even as he finished his swing, he reached out with his ‘free’ hand and snatched his shield out of the air as it returned to him thrusting forward to smash the nearest goon in the face before he snapped the weapon out again, thrusting forward as a battering ram only to switch at the last second to a spear, a trick he’d learned from Arjay, to spear two of them, giving him leverage on them to crack the edge of his shield against. Hopefully, the sweeping bladed attacks would have more effect than blunt force trauma.