Steve nods. "My father was killed in action." But before Dick has too much time to feel sorry for him, Steve adds: "I was just a kid when it happened — even younger than you — so I don't remember him much."

"In the memory, I could tell you cared a lot about your father, and that he felt the same about you." A beat. "I have to thank you, for giving me the chance to remember what that feels like."

There's a semblance of a smile on Steve face, and his voice is calm and unwavering, like a man who's already come to grips with those parts of his past.

Their time in the canteen was coming to close. Most of the other troubleshooters were beginning to file out. At this point, Steve was done with whatever was left of his food, so he sets his utensils down on the tray, and throws his napkin over it.