Stephen wonders if this is how Bruce feels. yet. this feeling must be ten x over, as Bruce was Edward’s actual father, therefore every emotion would be more intense. still, Stephen feels his own chest constrict, questions running through his mind - he wanted to catch his godson by the arm. make him tell him who did this, what happened, check for injury. instead, he let the child choose his own path, pushing past him and up to the second-floor display cases.
somehow it amazed him at questions children posed, could be more thought-provoking than any adult inquiries. ‘ where do i find courage?’ the sorcerer did not exactly creep, but his steps were quiet as he made his way slowly to Edward. “i find it in. . .” how does he begin to explain? “i find it in you, your father, Stark, Christine. my courage springs forth when i think of the people who i want to protect, and i know who would likewise do the same for me.”
the crack of his knees, he came to a stop and crouched next to the boy. his hands shakily pass over broken glasses, fixing them instantly. “would you like to know something?” old eyes stare into new ones, “brave? perhaps, but still scared. sometimes badly scared, yet i think of those i love and those i’ve chosen and sworn to protect and i can continue on.”
picking up the repaired glasses he held them out to Ed. “but you’ve got many years to go before you choose to even worry about the rest of the world; instead, one should take care of oneself.” Stephen’s eyes showed questions, especially: ‘what happened?’