It's that weight, more than anything, that shuts him up. No one has tried to protect him since -

As his gaze softens, and his limbs relax, it seems like he's really listening; like it's really getting through.

In a way, it is. When Zerxus speaks, it's soft and solemn; he's careful with it, keeping the words slow but steady. "Sounds like he couldn't let go of how things used to be. Or didn't want to, because he couldn't bear the idea of doing that and losing you. It's a very human way to live, and to die."

Things change all at once, and this time it isn't the devil's fault.

Suddenly, Zerxus is wreathed in flame. It doesn't burn Steve, but it's not a comfortable heat - like it's just on the edge between licking his skin and searing him to the bone. His eyes have become depthless voids, blazing with an unholy radiance, and there's a resonant growl to his voice that disguises any weakness in it.

"Comparing us is an insult." To Steve's fallen brother, but if the opposite implication gets him angry then that's better. "You made a choice to follow him into war. You fell here, into hell, and you are in bed with a devil."

Granted, that devil is very much trembling beneath Steve's hand. Maybe that's why he reaches up to clasp it, squeezing almost painfully.

"We're in my domain. I'll protect you whether you fucking like it or not."