is dimension or whatever you call it, I don＊t know,§ Pepper says, frantic. ※Reed Richards isanising some sort of appointment for him to go delving through Steve＊s brain to find out where it went, and Steve apparently thinks it＊s not a big deal and is trusting Richards, but -§

Tony＊s mind stutters to a halt. Hang on 每 Steve is going to let Strange fuck about with his mind with only Reed Richards for supervision? Fuck, he knows Strange too well to believe he＊ll prioritise Steve＊s wellbeing before his own wants and needs. And Richards as well. The level of risk that they are going to consider eptable is going to be too high, Steve probably isn＊t fully recovered from the ident and they won＊t give a shit if they hurt him, not if it＊s in the name of magic or science-

※Hold him off,§ he says, going back to his workbench and grabbing his phone. ※Jarvis, remove call blocking. Pepper, call Clint back and get him to hold them off, I don＊t care how he does it-§

※Okay,§ Pepper is already dialling, biting her lip. She＊s moving back and forth agitatedly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. ※Clint? Clint yes, he knows, he says to hold him off. I don＊t know, what do you normally do when you＊re trying to divert someone-? No, Clint, you can＊t shoot anyone, just think of 每 ask Natasha. Get Natasha on the phone 每 well go and find her then-!§

Heart thumping behind the arc-reactor, Tony lets Pepper deal with that end of the situation and shifts his focus to what he needs to do instead. He dials Steve's number, heart thudding strangely as it connects and rings. And rings. And rings. And then goes to voicemail.

"Fuck!" Tony swears. "Jarvis, where is he?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, it appears Captain Rogers is not in the tower."

Tony doesn't stop to think. "Jarvis, get the suit ready. Mark fifteen, go.§

There＊s a pause.

※Jarvis!§

※Sir, the mark thirteen is the fastest model,§ Jarvis says. ※If speed is your priority.§

Tony nods brusquely. ※Good call. Light it up.§

There＊s a faint and familiar whirring and Tony watches the storagepartment in the wall open slowly, focussing on breathing in and out steadily. There＊s only one thought left in his mind, repeating over and over and he doesn＊t doubt it, not even for a second.

He needs to get to Steve.

Reed Richards' lab is nowhere near as great as Tony＊s, is Steve＊s initial thought upon entering. It＊s just gone half past one and he＊s only just arrived, apologising for being late. He fully blames Clint, who had done his damnest to get Steve to rethink his decision and put off the appointment; it was only when Steve told him he was going with or without him that Clint conceded and let him leave the tower. Actually, Clint didn＊t even really concede; he just couldn＊t physically stop Steve from exiting the building and had instead followed him with a very bad grace.

Steve blows out a breath, rocking back on his heels and starting to feel a little nervous. He tries to take his mind off it by looking around, but it doesn＊t work very well. It＊s nothing like Tony＊s workshop; it＊s all science and numbers and theory, none of the bots or machines or cars that Tony works with. More abstract. Less real, somehow.

Steve suddenly wishes he had called Tony. It's too late now, and besides, even if he wanted to he's left his phone on his nightstand after showering.

※Take a seat, Captain,§ Stephen Strange says to Steve, his voice low and melodious. He gestures to the chair and Steve nods and climbs carefully into it, leaning back and exhaling heavily. Strange looks amused, like Steve is a small child finding something illogically frightening. ※Relax. The tenser you are, the more ufortable it will be for you, and the more difficult it will be for me.§

※Easy for you to say,§ Steve says, and he＊s only half joking. He wants to do this 每 he needs to do this 每 but Stephen Strange isn＊t exactly a warm and weing type of fella. He＊d greeted Steve politely enough, but had been openly keen to dismiss with pleasantries in favour of getting down to business. It doesn＊t help that Steve knows very little about the guy; he knows his official title is Sorcerer Supreme, and he protects the earth from magical threats. He knows that he used to be a neurosurgeon before he learned magic, which he supposes is a plus for someone who＊s about to go delving around in his brain.

He＊ll be honest; between Strange and Richards, Steve is starting to feel a bit like a lab rat. He＊s not going to back out now though, not when he＊s so close to getting some more answers. At the end of the day, he can＊t really object to what the two men are planning if he gets what he wants out if it.

※I still think we should wait,§ Clint says stubbornly, from where he is leaning back against Richards＊ desk with his hands shoved in his pockets, much to Richards＊ chagrin.

※It＊ll be fine,§ Richards says without turning around. His fingers are flying over his keyboard, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. ※Just sit still. Strange, are these sensors going to affect what you need to do?§

Strange looks over to Richards, who stops typing and picks up a couple of small white circular disks, holding them up for inspection.

※No,§ Strange says without pause. ※Unless any of your equipment runs off magical energy.§

※No,§ Richards says, and reaches 每 no, stretches 每 his arms over towards Steve. He doesn＊t flinch, but Clint does take a large step back away from the extending limbs, a look of alarmed distaste on him face. Steve smiles fleetingly, and then sits perfectly still as Reed sticks the two sensors onto Steve＊s head, one just below each temple.

※It will happen quickly,§ Strange says to Richards, watching as his arms retract and he goes back to typing. ※Will your sensors be able to keep up?"

※Of course.§

Steve＊s eyes flick to Clint as the conversation turns back to science. Or magic, he＊s not sure at this point. Noticing the glance, Clint pushes away from the desk and walks over to Steve, still looking unhappy.

※Relax,§ Steve says to him, even though he＊s been given the same instruction and can＊t quite manage it himself. ※It＊s fine.§

※Only Captain America would insist that having his brain messed with is fine,§ Clint snorts, kicking his toe against the leg of the chair. ※What is it gonna take to get you to hold off?§

※Hold off for what?§ Steve says pointedly. ※What is the point in waiting?§

Clint＊s mouth opens and then closes again almost immediately. He kicks at the chair leg again. ※Tony,§ he finally says stubbornly, looking up. ※You should let Tony know, wait for Tony-§

Steve shakes his head. ※We＊ve talked about this,§ he says. ※Clint. Don＊t worry, I＊m not going anywhere. These guys have got me.§

※You＊re not listening 每 that＊s exactly why I＊m worried.§

※Ready Captain? Hawkeye, move.§

Clint turns an unimpressed glare on Richards, but does deign to step back. Strange steps up, taking his place beside Steve, bright eyes fixed on his face and now looking at Steve like he＊s a particularly interesting puzzle. ※I am going to delve through your consciousness and see what traces of magic are left,§ he says smoothly. ※If possible, I will find the window which opened up to your consciousness, push you through and follow.§

※Push me?§ Steve asks, taken aback. His stomach clenches. ※No offense, but I really don＊t fancy going back.§

※I will have you tethered,§ Strange says. ※I highly doubt the place that you describes even exists anymore, so you will not, as you put it, ＆go back.＊ We will merely be following the path of whoever it was that did this to you.§

※I don＊t fully understand,§ Steve says slowly, because he can put most of the pieces together and he＊s far from stupid, but this is so far beyond anything he＊s ever encountered before.

※I＊m not asking you to understand,§ Strange says. ※I＊m asking you to sit still.§

And Steve looks from Richards to Strange to Clint, hesitating for a moment before nodding. Strange says he will have him tethered, that he＊s not going to let him slip away, all he＊s going to be doing is looking-

Strange reaches out and his hands hover either side of Steve＊s temples. Steve takes a deep steadying breath and lets his eyes flutter shut. His chest expands and then settles, and everything is quiet, only breathing and the shuffling of someone＊s footsteps. He＊s still nervous, and a voice in the back of his mind still wishes he＊d called Tony, but Tony wouldn＊t have been able to get here in time anyway.

He breathes in. Out. Tries to relax.

And then cool fingertips touch his temples and agony tears through his mind in a piercing rush of light. He feels his whole body snap taught as if electrocuted, his hands grasping spasmodically at the arms of the chair, fingers gripping so tightly the metal buckles. A strangled scream never makes it out of his throat, catching painfully in his chest as his back bows.

※STEVE!§

The shoutes from thousands of miles away, echoing and distant. Steve is torn mercilessly from his body, falling, falling through roaring wind and swirling light. Screams and shouts and cries of pain echo around him, and he twists around desperately, trying to find something to hold onto. He＊s no longer in the chair, he＊s nowhere, he＊s falling and there＊s nothing to grab onto-

God, it hurts. The wind is tearing at his clothes and hair, stinging his eyes and his chest is burning, burning where the metal went through his ribs. He＊s coughing, choking, can taste blood in the back of his mouth. He lifts an arm, covering his face, trying to shield his eyes.

No, he tries to say, desperate. He＊s getting lost again, he doesn＊t want to be lost again, he needs to get home-

＆Was it worth it?＊ a voice screams through the wind, and it＊s his voice, he holds his hand in front of his face and tries to see. It＊s his voice, shouting and yelling, and then the light and shadows lurch and twist and he＊s there, he can see himself right there, in a dark corridor, sitting inside a steel cell barred by bars of light with Tony standing impassively on the o

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