Work Text:
And then one day there's a burst of ancient that knocks all thought from Charles' head and shudders through the mansion, settling heavily over Bruce's shoulders and vibrating so hard through Tony's chest that his heart thuds into a panic.
All he knows is living and dying and sleeping and Charles tries not to tug Bruce's mind down into the cold with him and fails and the feeling of being four instead of one chokes him. Bruce and Hulk snap forward, between him and the other mut- so old how is that possible he can't be origins the beginning but no how -ant and the flow cuts off so suddenly and now he's one again but Bruce is none.
Tony is curled around Bruce's limp body and growling like he has his own Hulk, his anger groaning through the pipes in the walls and twisting the silverware. It rattles and shakes and Charles feels his own guilt and Tony's fearpainsadnesspanic in the pit of his stomach. He tries to get back into the strange new mutant's mind and feels the angry echo of Hulk at his own core tremble.
He remembers ice and a dark sky filled with spilt light and the sharp pain of breathing through a dry throat. He gathers the others and punishes himself for losing Bruce by coiling along the edges of Tony's mind until Hank lands the jet just meters away from a patch of sparse trees.
The man's eyes are open and old and most of his body is trapped in the thick ice. Charles presses lightly at Alex's mind to guide him and they easily pull the man from the puddle of heated water. His voice is deep when he tells Charles he left something behind and presses his own mind forward, Bruce and Hulk seeping back into their body and Tony's relief is jagged and still angry but they feel whole again and everything is mostly okay if not better because Bruce has so many things to tell him.
His name is Steve Rogers and he's been twenty five for six hundred and fifteen years, three months and eleven days.