It hadn't been his intent to bring anything up that would draw her away from him; he should have realized though, if Erik knew about things from his own time, that would mean he would have been around during the war. It turned out he'd been in the thick of it, like Steve, not just living in worry and poverty as a civilian, but one of the many who had been interred in camps.
Steve's lips thinned in anger, remembering coming across one such camp, during one of their operations. It had been the most gruesome, dehumanizing place he'd ever seen, the prisoners barely treated with the dignity shown to animals before the slaughterhouse, and the things they'd done to them... He'd gotten sick at the sight of it (and the smell)... And then they'd killed all the guards, released the prisoners, and razed the whole area to the ground. Bucky had been a totally different person that day, he remembered, going quiet and still, anger simmering under a cool, distant and calculating façade. Most of the guards got shot through the head, which personally Steve had thought was too good for them, but hadn't spoken aloud. He'd had to stop the others from taking the few remaining guards and throwing them into the furnace already lit for the─ the bodies, while they were still alive. He'd refused, saying they were better than that, better than the enemy, and he wouldn't let them stoop to that level, no matter what they personally felt these men deserved.
Continuing to listen, Steve was thankful he'd finished with the heavy knife, or he might have cut straight through the chopping board. It was an effort to keep his hands gentle enough to finish assembling the sandwiches, and when he was done, he braced his hands on the edge of the counter, hanging his head slightly. "Yeah. I can see how he'd think that. Can't say I blame him, either."
Steve believed, whole-heartedly, in the kindness of humanity. But he wasn't fool enough, or blinded by his ideals so much, that he wasn't aware of what human beings were capable of. He'd seen racism before desegregation ─ just because a man was free, didn't mean he wasn't treated as lesser, dangerous, or sometimes downright evil. America itself had built internment camps for Asians during the War, and while it hadn't been as bad as Germany and Austria, he couldn't imagine it had been all that humane, either, with the fear-mongering that had happened toward the end of the war. He kept hearing now about gay rights, and it was the same thing all over again. He didn't pretend to understand what the mutants, and this Erik in particular, had gone through, but he could understand becoming disillusioned with humanity as a whole, if that's how they constantly treated you.
Even a loyal dog, if beaten and mistreated enough, will eventually strike back.
He took a deep breath before saying, "I refuse to believe that all of humanity is like that, though. There's always good in the world, if you know where to look." He'd told himself that all through the War, and had to keep reminding himself of it now.
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Steve's lips thinned in anger, remembering coming across one such camp, during one of their operations. It had been the most gruesome, dehumanizing place he'd ever seen, the prisoners barely treated with the dignity shown to animals before the slaughterhouse, and the things they'd done to them... He'd gotten sick at the sight of it (and the smell)... And then they'd killed all the guards, released the prisoners, and razed the whole area to the ground. Bucky had been a totally different person that day, he remembered, going quiet and still, anger simmering under a cool, distant and calculating façade. Most of the guards got shot through the head, which personally Steve had thought was too good for them, but hadn't spoken aloud. He'd had to stop the others from taking the few remaining guards and throwing them into the furnace already lit for the─ the bodies, while they were still alive. He'd refused, saying they were better than that, better than the enemy, and he wouldn't let them stoop to that level, no matter what they personally felt these men deserved.
Continuing to listen, Steve was thankful he'd finished with the heavy knife, or he might have cut straight through the chopping board. It was an effort to keep his hands gentle enough to finish assembling the sandwiches, and when he was done, he braced his hands on the edge of the counter, hanging his head slightly. "Yeah. I can see how he'd think that. Can't say I blame him, either."
Steve believed, whole-heartedly, in the kindness of humanity. But he wasn't fool enough, or blinded by his ideals so much, that he wasn't aware of what human beings were capable of. He'd seen racism before desegregation ─ just because a man was free, didn't mean he wasn't treated as lesser, dangerous, or sometimes downright evil. America itself had built internment camps for Asians during the War, and while it hadn't been as bad as Germany and Austria, he couldn't imagine it had been all that humane, either, with the fear-mongering that had happened toward the end of the war. He kept hearing now about gay rights, and it was the same thing all over again. He didn't pretend to understand what the mutants, and this Erik in particular, had gone through, but he could understand becoming disillusioned with humanity as a whole, if that's how they constantly treated you.
Even a loyal dog, if beaten and mistreated enough, will eventually strike back.
He took a deep breath before saying, "I refuse to believe that all of humanity is like that, though. There's always good in the world, if you know where to look." He'd told himself that all through the War, and had to keep reminding himself of it now.