That voice... She almost, almost sounds like someone he's been missing since he got here. Not quite, though. There's something inherently different, and there's also no note of recognition like there would be if it were her. His hopes lift and dash against the rocks of reality all in the span of a moment, because it isn't her.

It isn't her, and yet when brown eyes flick down, at her wrists are a familiar weapon. His left hand tightens on the straps of the shield, and the expression that crosses his face, half hidden by the blue cowl, is defensive and a little angry. He's tired of being asked that. Tired of having his legitimacy questioned.

"It's mine." He says simply. "Where did you get those?" A quick motion to her wrists. He can already guess, he's met Sam and the other Steve and the other him - but it's a subtle retaliation. He's always been a little bit petty.