Thor takes the bottle back and takes another swig, then sets it down on the roof between them, where they can both reach. Steven deserves to shed his burdens too, if he can, no matter if that means Thor runs out that much sooner. He'll deal with that when he gets there.

He raises his prosthetic hand to scratch at the back of his neck and stops halfway, staring at the arm, before lowering it to sit on his lap. "Easier said than done," he murmurs, but there is no other way that he can see to move forward, and shivers a little at the thought of going back to Asgard. Of visiting a place that no longer exists, his childhood home, full of people who were slaughtered before his eyes. And there is nothing he will be able to do to save them, to alter the timeline, lest they destroy their own pasts.

He wishes he could take Steve's declaration as optimism, but Thor knows better now. Such thoughts have plagued him ever since that awful day in Wakanda, and having begun recovery once, he does not know if he could bear starting over a second time, even though he has promised Loki that he will come back from this. It may not be a choice that he makes, regardless of his own wishes. "I don't know if I can do this again," he admits quietly, still looking down at his hands.