Steve isn't particularly boggled by the object. If anything there's something familiar to it, and he can tell it's a telephone. He looks up when Henry comes back into the living room, giving him a single nod. "I know." He doesn't need a lot of explaining, honestly. It would be the kind of thing Steve would have thought impossible once upon a time, if he hadn't just recently learned of how very much real Greek gods and Amazons and magically hidden islands in the middle of nowhere are. "What year is it?"
"2017." Henry says evenly ripping open a disinfectant wipe, "This may sting a little." He says eyeing the blood, but he learned to handle himself around it long ago. He cleans up the cut and puts a bandaid over it. "Do you think you broke anything?" He asks he has a few people he could call to help if it's needed.
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