Steve jogged down the several flights of stairs, then out onto the street. He took a couple of deep breaths, letting his mind blank as he looked at everyone going about their daily lives. He couldn't quite wipe the happy smile off his face as he stretched a little, then started jogging down the sidewalk; he had a daily life now, too. He had someone waiting for him when he came home. It felt incredible.

He kept the pace to a (fast) jog, putting on short bursts of speed when he didn't think anyone would notice, and once he made it to the bridge, he looped around and headed through several parks, racing through the trees when he was unlikely to be seen, or at least noticed for how fast he was running. He always enjoyed running through wilderness best, even if it was carefully cultivated wilderness; it reminded him of missions in Europe, but oddly, it brought him comfort. It was something he was familiar with. It was how he'd first learned just how fast he could run, and what his body was truly capable of, and despite everything else that had been happening at the time, it was a good memory.

Heading back toward his apartment, Steve checked his watch. An hour and a half. He'd settle into a jog the rest of the way as a nice cool-down, then walk the last couple of blocks. He was just starting to pant a little, but wasn't overexerted in the slightest.