Chapter Text

And Steve moves.

The barest flicker of an eyelid, but Tony feels like he has stopped breathing, his own eyes locked on Steve＊s. He continues to hold his breath, willing Steve to do it again.

e on, you bastard,§ Tony breathes, and he hears someone shift behind him, possibly Bruce or Clint. e on.§

And Steve makes a sound, a rough catch of air in the back of his throat and his eyelids are flickering again, the faintest hint of blue under groggy lids, and now his fingers are twitching before everything goes still again.

e on, Steve,§ Tony repeats, and he reaches forwards and holds Steve＊s head in his hands, not giving a damn about everyone else in the room. He leans over the bed, palms on Steve＊s jaw and thumbs roughly stroking his cheekbones. One hand darts distractedly upwards, fingersbing through blond hair, pushing it back away from Steve＊s face.

Another rough noise, almost a cough, and then Steve＊s eyes open, heavy and bleary and not altogether there. He coughs again and his hand moves, lifting unsteadily from the blankets before falling back again. He blinks slowly and Tony feels a horrible panic that the eyes won＊t open again, but they do. His brow creases in a frown and then his eyes open more fully, focussing hazily on Tony＊s face.

※You absolute fucker,§ Tony chokes out, half-laughing, his thumbs stroking against Steve＊s cheeks, throat tight and eyes too warm. He leans back, letting go of Steve＊s face and instead grabbing his hand where it＊s trying to lift from the blankets again. ※Yeah, yeah, we got you.§

He reaches for the controls for the bed and hits the button which will lift the upper half of the mattress, sitting Steve up. He can＊t stop touching him, hands on his shoulders and arms as he helps him sitfortably, pulling the blankets straight and brushing Steve＊s hair out of his face. The doctor is crowding the other side of the bed, checking vitals and holding up a penlight.

※Captain, can you hear us?§ the doctor asks, carefully leaning over and lifting Steve＊s eyelids, checking his pupils with a penlight. ※All responsive. Captain, can you hear me?§

Steve＊s brow furrows and he clumsily lifts his free hand and knocks the doctors hand and the light away. ※Quit it,§ he slurs, and somewhere behind them Clint starts to laugh. Tony＊s laughing too, laughing so hard he has to fall back into the chair next to the bed, still clutching at Steve＊s hand, holding it in both of his own and pressing it to his mouth. The doctor simply smiles ruefully and steps back, nodding in apparent satisfaction.

※＆M I alive?§ Steve slurs, blinking hard, head lolling forwards. Tony catches him with a hand on his cheek, pushing his head back up and against the pillows.

※Yeah, yeah you are,§ Tony says, and he feels Natasha＊s hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. He reaches back with his free hand and grasps her fingers, covering her hand with his own.

Steve breathes out heavily through his nose, eyes drifting shut again. He swallows thickly, coughs again, and Clint is instantly there with a glass of water.

※Slowly,§ Bruce says, and Clint slips a hand onto the back of Steve＊s head and presses the glass to Steve＊s lips. Steve＊s eyelids flutter and he leans forwards slightly, enough to drink a couple of sips of water before falling back. He swallows again, throat clicking, and then his brow furrows, distressed.

※Tony,§ he croaks, and forces his eyes open. ※Tony-§

※Yeah,§ Tony says, and his stomach tightens into a knot as blurry blue eyes meet his own. He feels Steve＊s hand tighten on his, almost painfully despite how weak Steve clearly is.

※You 每 you＊re okay,§ Steve manages to get out and Tony is utterly thrown by the panic is Steve＊s eyes, clear to see even through the haze and the sluggishness. It was Steve who was stabbed because Tony wasn＊t there quick enough, why the hell is he concerned that Tony isn＊t okay?

※Yeah, yeah, I＊m fine,§ Tony says, shifting so he sits on the bed, next to Steve＊s hip. Steve＊s free hand pushes the water and Clint＊s hand aside and gropes for Tony＊s shoulder, fingers curling into the material of his shirt and pulling Tony close with wavering strength.

Not understanding, but not quite able to care, Tony lets himself be pulled. He shifts closer to him, pressing close and winding an arm around Steve＊s neck. Steve tips forwards, burying his face in the juncture between Tony＊s neck and shoulder, breathing out heavily.

Confused, Tony looks up over Steve＊s head at Clint. Clint just shrugs, spreading his hands wide.

※We got you,§ Tony murmurs, holding onto Steve＊s hand and stroking the other up over the back of his head. ※Steve, I got you.§

Steve wakes up again a few hours later, lying on his side and curled into something warm. The something warm is stretched out in front of him, against Steve＊s cheek and hips and knees, and it＊s moving every now and again, shifting gently next to him-

Abruptly, Steve realises that the thing he＊s curled into is Tony.

His first thought it thank god, because Tony is here and safe and Steve knows he＊s alive and back in the right dimension. His second is that Tony is warm andforting and smells nice. His third is to remember that at least thirty versions of him across the multiverse have slept with Tony Stark.

Without even thinking, he jerks back, limbs not quite cooperating up to their usual standard. He feels something tugging at his hand and a constriction around his feet, confusion and mortification warring in his stomach. Oh god, no, he and Tony aren＊t-

※Steve, whoa!§

Luckily, Tony is scrambling up off the bed, swinging onto his feet so he＊s not pressed against Steve. He stands close though, hands planted on Steve＊s shoulders in a futile attempt to keep him still. Still seized by a minor amount of panic, Steve shoves back at him and then there are more hands pressing him back down with considerably more force than Tony managed.

※Steve, stay still, you＊ll tear your IV out,§ Tony says, and Steve looks around wildly and realises that first, the tugging sensation is indeed a line that＊s in the back of his hand, and second that Thor is there, and he＊s the one that＊s got him firmly pinned in place.

Somewhere close, he hears Thor＊s deep chuckle, and then the pressure on his shoulders lifts and then vanishes. ※You are not back to your usual strength yet, in body or in mind. Be still, my friend.§

※Where am I?§ he tries to ask, but his voice is rough and hoarse and it feels like his throat is lined with sandpaper. Everything in front of him swims, blackness creeping in at the edge of his vision. Bending his arm up at the elbow, he blindly reaches out, fingers fumbling and uncooperative.

Strong fingers catch his and hold firm, and he grips them tightly, trying to force his eyes open. Oh god, he feels like he did that time he and Bucky drank that horrendous excuse for whiskey on his twenty-first birthday; disorientated and sick and like he could throw up. It＊s something he＊s not felt for years, not since he became Captain America.

Groggily realising that maybe he should sit still, he acquiesces to Tony＊s request and stops moving, sinking back down into his pillows. He＊s confused, doesn＊t like how it seems to be taking ages to latch onto a thought. He tries to swallow, inches his free across hand to take the goddamn IV out the back of the hand being held, because he guesses it＊s pumping all sorts of drugs into him, strong enough to make him feel woozy.

※Nuh-uh, not on my watch,§ Tony says, and another hand grabs his wrist, pulls his hand away. His fingers are warm and strong on Steve＊s wrist but he wants the damn IV out as soon as he can, fingers scraping at the tape that＊s holding it in place. ※Steve, don＊t 每 there＊s no sedatives in it, I swear. Just the usual crap, to get your fluids and electrolytes back in balance, you＊re pretty dehydrated.§

Steve＊s fingers fall away from the tape and he allows Tony to move his hands apart. The fingers of his left hand push between Steve＊s and Steve realises that Tony is now holding both his hands, gripping tightly like he＊s scared Steve will vanish. Steve doesn＊t blame him in the slightest; he＊s pretty worried himself, scared that if he slips back into the darkness that＊s still hovering on the edge of his vision then he＊ll end up back in the apartment with the rest of the Steves-

Oh god, the others. Steve＊s insides all clench and he struggles to get up, panicking again. SJ - where will SJ be? Is he alright? Will he be still with Steve, waiting for him to get up again 每 hang on, will Steve have vanished from the apartment, or will there still be a body?

Will the rest of them have got home as well? He remembers SJ＊s tears when he＊d seen Bucky through the mist, and he feels like he＊s being torn in two, he can＊t bear the thought of not knowing if he＊s okay-

※Thor, a little help!§

Steve finds himself once again firmly clamped down by a pair of weighty hands on his shoulders, but this time he＊s less willing to play along. He yanks his hands back out of Tony＊s grip and tries to shove free, and then there＊s a lot of pushing and shoving and there＊s abruptly more weight on his shoulders and across his legs and he can＊t move a damn thing-

※Steve, stop!§

It＊s not the sudden weight on his limbs or the way Tony yells at him that stops his struggles; it＊s the way his stomach roils and he has to swallow convulsively against wave of nausea. He goes limp and the room goes silent, and when he blearily opens his eyes he realises why he can't move.

Thor has got his shoulders pushed back against the pillows; Tony and Bruce have got an arm each, his elbows shoved tightly into his sides and wrists in the tightest grips the pair can manage; Clint is sprawled across his thighs and Natasha is sitting on his shins and looking at him in such a way that he knows that if he tries to kick her off she will have him by the balls.

※Jesus, Steve,§ Tony says fervently, and Clint starts to laugh, his chest shaking against Steve＊s thighs. Thor is also

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