Steve found himself not doing much of anything for a few minutes after many of the other members of the new team had left the room. This was partially because he ended up distracted by how pretty the shiny small man and his shiny map were, and partially because, even though he tried, he simply could not commit the details of said map to memory - by the time he had one section of it locked down in his mind, the previous one had slipped out of his addled brain, and in trying to remember the section after that, he ended up losing the one he'd just put to memory. That was, to some extent, his least-favourite part about his disability - remembering certain things was nearly impossible for him. He could deal with the loss of critical thinking that happened after the thing that had happened, because Sophie helped him stay on track in any given situation. He could deal with the more extreme emotional states he sometimes went into, because he had lived with the potential to accidentally kill others for a great portion of his life, and had ingrained a policy of not attacking people unless he had to that usually came to the forefront even through whatever anger he experienced.

But the fact of the matter was that his short-term memory had become net-like (semi-literally, if one considered how much of his neocortex had been removed), catching and holding only the biggest and most concrete thoughts and experiences he had, and only allowing him to keep less important things if he struggled to hold them in his head for minutes, or even hours on end, moreso if he had no assistance in doing so. Beyond this, he passed through life as though it were mist, insubstantial and near-formless; even getting to the table at which this first meeting had been held had only happened because he'd followed one of the other members of the group to it.

To say the least, it was a frustrating state of affairs that he struggled with, now as much as ever because he really wanted to try on that new suit, and feel like part of the team and things, and his inability to hold a map in his head was stopping him from doing that. Eventually, he relented to his own mind's inadequacies, turning to the holographic figure and asking 'Ccc... um, can I have a hol- ...a m-map, to carry, mister Ar-chee? I can't get the... path. To the room.' He blushed with embarrassment as he said this, and the thought briefly occurred to him that maybe Sophie should have come with him after all, because she always helped him to remember things that were hard to remember, things like long strings of directions presented in an abstract format such as a map. But he'd wanted to show he could be a hero by himself, and he didn't want her to be in the way of the dangerous bad guys, and now he was asking for a map and making himself look even more silly than he already had. He hoped he wouldn't have to do difficult things like recalling complex instructions in a place and time where it mattered, like when they were fighting bad guys.