stolen tech

Stolen.

Caspian didn't really like the word, but Steve had a habit of bringing it up. Obviously, modified to the deepest pits of some hells and back again, it barely resembled the thing it once was. Its camouflage circuit was way too finicky to trust, and it needed a complete overhaul. The whole thing never answered to him the way it was supposed to, which made the way of forcibly renovating the only option - but, then again, the eternal wasn't of the race it resonated with.

But none of it made the ship his to begin with. With Steve's help, he had gutted and replaced almost everything he could.

It wasn't about feeling guilty. Caspian didn't have his conscience knocking in the back of his mind constantly about it. He stole things accidentally all the time - there was no reason to ruminate over it.

But along every other painful sting of a memory, there was a face linked to this very space - his home. A face he wanted to forget, but which was stuck like dried-up blood in a murder scene's antique carpet. So many others had gotten muddled up in the grudge and gnashing of teeth, but this one - it was as bright as the Sun itself, no matter how long it had been since the Athos had seen him for the very last time.

He had stranded Caspian countless times, for centuries at a time. There was a reason why he yearned to forget so. To wipe that man from his mind forever, so he could move on.

But he couldn't. Kate didn't let him. She didn't mean it, but...

Good intentions didn't erase the eroding they caused.