[He should have called sooner. So many people to keep track of, so many cans of worms, so many problems, traumas, things to worry about, to follow up on. His mind is racing just thinking about it. Peter, Nicole, Harley, Bucky, John, Stephen... how can this town be so small but so impossible in its demands for emotional support?]

Stephen? Hey. It's been a while, we haven't really talked since...

[His voice trails off and he makes an awkward gesture. Since, you know. You died. Peter died. You went home for such a long time and now everything's a mess and where do you even start with this.]

And I thought I'd call, see how you're doing, so. Uh. How are you doing?