With all the buzz, Steve normally would stay in his suite, avoid the hullabaloo and noise, but staying away from it only grants him the continuous playbacks of his friends dying in the arena. Watching them over and over again, dying, unable to help, unsure if they will come back. He tries to ignore it for as long as he can, but eventually it gets too much. Too overwhelming.

The roof is too crowded to get any air or peace, no, the best option is to slip out of the tower and to a quiet corner of the city. There's not many of them, but Steve knows a few.

It's immediate that the man having a panic attack catches his attention, causing him to automatically start moving over to help him without knowing or recognizing him. Though the closer he gets the more the man looks like- no. Bucky can't be revived yet and the other one never was revived. Unless-

Doesn't matter, help with the panic attack and piece things together after.

"Woah, hey, I got you, you're alright," he says it gently but with a firm assurance to help the thought settle in the man's mind. He keeps his hands off him, but he kneels to look up at him, making his presence less looming. "Breathe with me, okay? Slow, calm, just focus on breathing," as he says it, his breathing is already falling into a very calm and deliberate pace, making it audible enough so it's easy to follow. "In... then out," a breathy murmur.