needs the time to take it in, but of course they do; they＊re him so they know what he wants and needs.

he exhales shakily and stops trying to pull back against navy-steve, trying to get his shattered thoughts into some semblance of order. right: as far as he knows, he＊s here, and he＊s experiencing this as if it＊s real, so he＊ll just have to take it as real. that means working out how and why, and doing so alongside a pair of dead steve rogers＊ from somewhere across the multiverse. christ, the word normal really doesn＊t have any meaning in his life anymore.

he breathes out slowly and to his immense relief finds that some of the hysteria has faded. well, he＊s always been a practical kind of guy; seems his ability to deal with even crazy insane situations extends further than he ever imagined.

※so, if i＊m not dead, then why am i here?§

※don＊t know,§ navy-steve admits, finally letting go of his hand. ※maybe he＊s right, maybe you＊re pretty much dead but not quite there yet?§

※well, that＊sforting,§ steve says wearily, and puts his palm flat on the concrete and pushes himself slowly to his feet. he straightens up and stands shoulder to shoulder with navy-steve, and jolts as he sees how they both tower over the third steve. the smaller version of him doesn＊t seem the least bit bothered by it though, and he＊s hit with the memory of sensation, how he used to stand up to guys as big as he is now and not even blink.

wow. it seems a lot stupider now he＊s got the perspective on how small he actually was. maybe bucky had had a point.

e on,§ navy-steve says. ※let＊s get out of the damn mist, find the others.§

steve is about to take a step, but the words give him pause. ※the others?§ he asks, not entirely convinced that he wants to know the answer. ※who else is here?§

short-steve and navy-steve exchange a look, and he still can＊t get over seeing all those expressions on his own damn face without the use of a mirror. ※you＊ll see.§

※tony. you＊ve been here for thirty-eight hours. go home.§

※no,§ tony replies simply, fingers dragging over the surface of the tablet in his hand. he＊s exhausted, but leaving this room isn＊t an option. he will stay here until steve wakes up so he can say sorry. he＊s over the whole uncontrollable crying stage now, and clinging ferociously to the stage of determined bargaining. when steve wakes up, tony will apologise for not following his order straight away. he will apologise for everything, up to and including the incident with the fire hydrant and the aim soldier that waspletely steve＊s fault anyway, and he will promise to always listen to steve when he＊s in captain america mode.

but he can only do that when steve wakes up, so steve and the universe need to get a move on and sort it out.

he hears clint exhale heavily, footsteps move closer. ※you do realise that you being here won＊t make him heal any quicker?§

※yep,§ tony says flippantly, eyes still fixed on the tablet and feeling far too warm. fucking clint. he feels like he＊s on a damn hair-trigger; one misplaced word and he＊s going to fucking cry again, and he is not going to cry in front of clint fucking barton.

scratch that, he＊s not going to cry in front of anyone. well, except steve, but steve isatose so it doesn＊t count.

※is there anything i can say that will get you out of this room?§

※nope,§ tony says, and against his better judgement he looks up from the tablet at steve＊s face. he＊s still pale and silent, still relying on the ventilator to breathe for him. there＊s tape over the lower half of his face, keeping the ventilator tube in place, and tony hates it. he wants to rip it away, pull the tube out, get rid of all the evidence that steve isn＊t okay. it＊s like a horrid burning twist in his stomach, an urge to pull and twist and wrench until something gives and it＊s all fixed.

god, he＊s a mess.

※alright,§ clint says simply, and pulls up a chair. he slumps down in it and puts his booted feet up on the edge of steve＊s bed, near his knees. tony glances at him and clint shrugs, slouching further down into the chair.

※he wants to yell at me for putting boots on his blankets, he can wake up and fucking well do it himself,§ he says, and shuts his eyes, exhaling heavily.

tony swallows thickly, blinks hard. he looks away from clint and back and steve＊s ashen face, and all he can think is please.

steve follows navy-steve and short-steve silently, their footsteps loud in the gloom. they＊re both quiet too, walking close together in a way that seemsfortable and familiar. steve wonders how long they＊ve been here 每 wherever here is 每 because they seempletely at ease with the entire situation in a way steve is most definitely not.

he notices that the navy-steve doesn＊t have his shield, either.

they walk and walk, asionally ducking under tangled wires that cross the street, or climbing over piles of rubble and broken cars. the further they go, the less destruction there seems to be, and the mist is slowly but surely thinning out. he＊s in a city of sorts, it would seem. every now and again he spots something that＊s familiar, but the buildings on either side never look right. it＊s like his memories of new york have been sort of blended into this unknown place, an odd patchwork that＊s not quite as it should be.

by the time the mist has retreated far enough for steve to see a pale-blue sky above their heads, their pace has slowed significantly, mostly down to the fact short-steve is struggling for breath and looking tired.

※should have told you to stay put,§ navy-steve says with a frown as short-steve leans forwards, hands on his knees and breathing heavily.