The man, not the legend.

It's six am when Steve gets up--makes his bed and tidies up his mostly spotless apartment. Getting up early has never been a problem for Steve and even less of one when he's got things to look forward to. The tiny fake tree is still sitting up by the window, one present underneath that never got claimed.

He waits until it's a quarter till seven before he starts the coffee, and starts rummaging through his kitchen to get what he thinks they'll need.

Breakfast and faith sound like a good way to begin the day.

Steve gets up off of his couch and sets his mug down on the counter. Time to bundle up again and venture into the great outdoors.

"Everyone keeps saying that . And I know it's not. But I also know what people expect when they think of me. And I'm not that person. So I have to do the best I can, even if it's not as good." He's clever, strong willed, and big hearted. The spirit is willing, but the body....

That's why he's training. Trying to be the best he can be, despite the hand he's been played.

"It sounded like something like this hadn't happened before. At least not recently. The attack, I mean. I'll show you where the memorial is."