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Sebastian was no longer warm.
He felt like he was choking, something blocking his throat, but he couldn't open his mouth. His hands wouldn't move, he needed to reach up, claw his neck open so that he could breathe. Panicked gripped him tightly, slinging itself even further around his lungs.
Screams wanted to tear themselves out of him, but his jaw was locked shut.
His finger twitched.
Wavering sounds were somewhere above him. He tried to turn his face towards them, bask in the sun, latch onto them.
Muttered words were in the distance, like he was listening from the bottom of the sea, buried in the deep mud.
His eye fluttered.
There was light. Blue rays shimmering through the slick dirt.
He needed to get out. He needed to breathe.
Somehow he felt his body rise out of the earth, leaving him floating at the ground of the ocean. The water pressed on his lungs, squeezing the last bit of air out.
The light was brighter there, blinding and white. His eyes clenched themselves shut, blessing him with the darkness.
He forgot to keep swimming. His body softly hit the floor again, the ground rippled, the waves echoed. Little tendrils reached out and slithered over his arms and legs, pulling. Dragging him back down to the fresh, dark coldness.
Calm.
He sunk into it, the desperation for air slipping out of him, snaking its path away.
A sound of despair forced his eyes back open, the light flooding back in and scaring the little tentacles away, hissing and squealing. Shoving him back up, shrill screams ringing in his ears.
Fighting to keep his eyes ajar, he scanned the distorted surface, a blurred shadow above the soft waves.
The sound got clearer as he focused on the figure.
A voice. It cried.
He knew what that was like. He wasn't sure how he knew that and why, but he did.
His arm felt heavy as he reached up to the voice, water turning to oil. It burned, but he longed higher.
"Please."
He stretched his second arm up, fingers digging into the walls, slipping in the oil, water dripped down on him, threatened to drown him.
"Please, please. Don't do this to me. Please, come back."
A silent scream wrecked his throat as he pulled. Pulled himself up and up, closer and closer.
Waves crashed against him, throwing him back and forth. Disorienting him. They dug into his stomach, tearing the skin, saltwater entering his insides. Tugging him down down down the harder he clawed towards the top.
He heaved his hand higher, fingertips grazing the surface, icy wind biting at the skin. He tried to speak, tried to get the shadow to notice him, to pull him free. Water entered his mouth, flooding his lungs.
"Stay with me, please."
The voice sunk under the water, wrapping itself around him like a cold blanket.
Then it pulled. Ripped him out of the waves and the waves out of him, tearing his chest open further.
He sucked in a deep breath, coughing as frigid air entered his lungs.
He cried out, fingers spasming where they were tucked against his sides.
His stomach burned, he seized up to tear the fire away but his touch just stoked the flames more.
Tears wringed out of his eyes, body twisting to get away from the pain.
He heard gasps above and around him, his body was jostled, causing him to choke out a sob.
"Buck? Buck?"
Wet hands framed his face, warm thumbs wiping over his teary cheeks.
Why were they wet? They must have pulled him out. Out... of where? Where had he been?
He blinked rapidly, squinting against the harsh light.
A beautiful face loomed over him, red rimmed eyes raining tears onto him.
"Chris?" he slurred, a weak hand coming to rest on the strong jaw. Red smeared the skin, making him frown.
"Oh, thank God." Lips descended over and over onto his forehead and temple, thick fingers coming up to brush his hair back from where he felt it sticking to his sweaty skin.
"Where's your beard?" Sebastian babbled, rubbing his fingertip again over the red stain.
A confused frown met him and a hand tenderly engulfed his where it lingered on that red spot.
Perfect blue eyes left his, meeting someone else's, but he couldn't make himself follow. Couldn't look away from that face.
"Give him some time, Cap. He's just confused."
Sebastian didn't know who said that, he thought that it was probably important, but he couldn't pay attention.
Chris wiped his nose with a sniff and nodded, Sebastian just stared up at him.
"Okay. Okay. We'll just need to get him back to base and get him patched up. He'll be okay," Chris decided, still nodding compulsively, his hand continuing to hold Sebastian's.
A wail punched out of his throat, tears rolled over his temples, as something strapped over his abdomen. His legs kicked up, tried to fold themselves in to shield him from the agony, but someone caught them and forced them back down.
His fingers trembled in Chris' palm, but Chris just held on fast, bringing their joined hands up to his lips and placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.
When the ache faded into a dull throb, Chris lugged Sebastian's decrepit arm higher to rest around Chris' neck.
"Okay, hold on tight, Buck."
Sebastian whimpered when Chris lifted him up, the movement straining his wound, fingernails dingging into Chris' skin.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's okay, I gotcha." Sebastian could feel himself relaxing right away at the low cadence of that voice. He snuggled closer against Chris' firm chest, strong arms cradling him gently. Safely.
Chris had never done that before.
Carried him. Or calmed him.
His eyes felt heavy, he leaned his head against Chris' shoulder and inhaled shallowly.
It wasn't familiar.
The smell wasn't clean, and it wasn't a fresh cologne either. This was wrong.
"You don't smell right," Sebastian muttered, the fingers on Chris' nape playing with the short strands. His hair had looked longer the last time he saw him.
"That's good, keep him talking, Cap. Make sure he keeps his eyes open. I doubt he'll be coming back a second time," someone said.
"Buck. Hey c'mon, pal. Look at me," Chris commanded softly. It only took some effort to obey, blinking his sleepy eyes open and sluggishly meeting Chris' gaze. The smile that greeted him was right, perfect and blinding. "There you go, that's good. Talk to me, why don't I smell right, hmm?"
He nuzzled the rough fabric of Chris' clavicle. That also wasn't right. Chris always wore the softest clothes. He continued to suck in small puffs of breath.
"Smells like dirt 'n metal. 'S wrong."
Chris chuckled above him, the sound vibrating through his body. It hurt a bit, but the sight was too beautiful to miss, Sebastian would trade a bit of pain to see that laugh any day. He felt the corner of his own mouth lift a bit.
"Yeah, I definitely agree. I'm not a fan of it either. But I'll hop in the shower right away when we're back on base, how about that?"
Sebastian nodded, the sway of Chris walking making him really want to close his eyes. He was so tired. But Chris had said to look at him, and he'd do that. He'd do anything for him.
"'S good. All clean, make you pretty."
His mouth was just running by itself, the words he said didn't even register until seconds later. He didn't see a reason to take them back though.
Chris peered down at Sebastian with a playful smirk, dried streaks on his cheeks making the skin crinkle. "What, am I not pretty enough for ya like this? Don't like the dirty and bloody look?" he joked.
Sebastian again carefully shook his head, serious expression on his face. "No, 's good. 'Re always pretty."
Chris ducked his head with a blush and let out a surprised chuckle, clearing his throat.
He had never made Chris blush before. It made him smile drowsily.
He truly had no idea how long they walked, making mindless conversation along the way and despite how delirious he was with the need to simply close his eyes and rest, he kept looking up at Chris determined face. Beamed exhaustedly up at Chris whenever he checked in on him. He probably had the biggest heart eyes, but he was too fucking tired to be able to hide his expression.
Blinking once, there were suddenly different faces above him. The sky was gone, turned muddy and gray.
Fear gripped him and he thrashed and kicked, he needed to get back to Chris.
He heard himself scream, the sound echoing in his ears. Sharp pinches on his stomach made him want to curl up. Choked out moans punched out of his lungs, hot tears running down his temples to his ears, gathering there and dimming the voices.
Then there was salvation.
Blue eyes above him, warmth settling over his cheeks. A watery smile as warm rain dripped down on him, not for the first time.
He tried to reach out, wipe the clouds away, but his arm wouldn't move.
"It's okay, I'm here," a mouth whispered, the sound of it reaching his ears delayed, a warm breeze stroking over his face. He searched for the blue above the storm, but couldn't find it. When had it gotten dark?
He woke with a start, a spasm in his abdomen making him grunt.
Looking down, he realized that his chest was bare. White bandages covering his upper stomach. He frowned. What happened to him?
He tried to recall what he last remembered. He had been at a bar. Anthony was there. And Chris.
No. Chris had been... he'd been with him after that.
He remembered pain, which explained the bandages, kind of. And he remembered Chris, holding him and... crying?
Sebastian felt his heart give an excited beat. Did Chris cry for him?
He hated himself for feeling so happy about that.
His head was killing him. He raised a weak hand to press against his temple but stopped halfway there.
It wasn't right.
Dirt and grime stuck under his nails and it looked... smoother?
A startled twinge squeezed his chest, eyes flicking up and drinking in the environment in abbreviated blinks.
This wasn't a fucking hospital.
Fear snaked its way into his veins, turning his blood to ice.
Was he kidnapped?
The walls and ceiling were dark, made of fabric, like he was in some kind of tent or something. And the floor was fucking dirt, dry and trampled.
Light flooded the room as the wall parted, making him squint. A silhouette stepped in.
"Hey, pal, you're awake!"
Chris stood in front of the wall that had itself sealed back up, blocking out the light.
But it wasn't him.
Sure, he could have cut his hair and beard easily, but it just wasn't him. Sebastian felt it in his gut.
He held himself differently, more upright. His eyes were softer, wrinkles smoother.
"You were shot. I thought I'd lost you," Chris' voice sounded raw, grimacing as he stepped closer and reached for Sebastian's hand.
Sebastian flinched back, causing an expression on Chris' face like Sebastian had slapped him instead.
That uncanny feeling wouldn't let him go, blood sloshing through his veins in rapid speed. He could hear feel his heart pounding, blood rushing past his ears. This was all wrong.
Chris swallowed and nodded shortly, letting his arm dangle back down against his side. "Sorry, just. I'm glad you're okay, Buck."
Sebastian stared at him like he'd seen a ghost.
His body was frozen, eyes leaving Chris' wrong face to maniacally scan his surroundings.
Were they filming?
No one else was here.
That didn't make sense.
"Bucky, hey. Are you alright?"
His eyes flashed back to Chris, latching on to his baby blues. They were the same. But they also weren't.
Bucky.
What the fuck was this?
His panicked gaze flicked over Chris' face, taking in all the details, wandering down and landing on a nametag that was sowed onto the olive colored uniform underneath it.
Rogers.
Like Steve fucking Rogers.
A hysterical laugh forced its way out of his throat. He shook his head.
Steve, fucking Steve, watched him with a concerned frown, hands hovering in the air, wanting to reach out.
He needed to get out. Struggling to kick off the blanket tangled in his legs, he felt warmth grip his upper arms.
"Bucky, calm down, it's okay."
Sebastian just shook his head, sucking in breaths. "No. No, I need to- I need-" he couldn't finish his fucking thought, the blanket wouldn't get off of him, snaring him in.
"What? What do you need? Some air?" Chris, no no, Steve questioned, worry cracking through the calm demeanor.
Sebastian nodded wildly. Steve nodded back.
"Okay, okay. Come on." Steve tugged the blanket easily off of him, freeing him. A muscular arm slung around his back, helping him slide off of the bed, or whatever it was.
His bare feet hit the cool dirt, sending a small shock up his legs. They felt unsteady.
Despite everything, he could feel himself lean instinctually into the warmth at his side, let himself be half carried towards the door, flap of the tent, whateverthefuck.
Frosty drafts hit his face, white light blinding him.
He wheezed shakily. The cold filled his chest, it was oddly soothing. Grounding.
Fingers rubbed calmingly over his back.
Hesitantly Sebastian opened his eyes, he hadn't even noticed closing them.
His breath stuck in his throat. Tents, dirt, snow, people.
No, let's not... Not now. Not now.
He forced himself to keep inhaling. And exhaling. Just keep going.
Slowly he let his head wander over to the man next to him.
He almost didn't want to, but at the same time, he really did.
Troubled eyes smiled unsurely at him.
They still looked the same, sad but beautiful.
The rest of his face hadn't morphed back into Chris'.
He released a breath.
"You're Steve," he stated, firm but wary.
The furrow in Steve's brow got deeper, but he nodded.
"Fuck." All he could do was laugh in disbelief. Because if he didn't, he feared he might start crying. He had done enough of that lately.
Steve really looked like he wanted to question everything, apprehension deep in the creases around his eyes. Sebastian was glad that he didn't ask, because honestly, he had no fucking idea either.
"Come on, let's get you somewhere quieter. I still got that private tent, being Captain pays off," Steve attempted, some joke that Sebastian was supposed to get, but he didn't. The tenative smile on Steve's face fell apart. Sebastian was upset to see it go, wanted to get it back, but he didn't know how. It was too late now.
Awkward silence settled over them for the rest of the walk, Steve still supporting him. His feet hurt, the frozen ground piercing the skin. Why the hell didn't he have any shoes?
He kept his gaze directed forward, not ready to deal with everything that was happening around him yet. He just needed to keep his focus on something, or else he might go insane. Might was generous. He was very certain.
The chaos from the outside fell away when they entered Steve's tent, shouts and conversations getting muffled.
"You wanna lie down?" Turning towards Steve, he shook his head. There was no way he could rest right now, he might start clawing his way right out of his body. Everything felt tingly and itchy, like little insects were crawling underneath his skin.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he stepped closer to Steve, hesitantly bringing his arms up to fold around Steve's waist. Steve didn't waste a second to drape his thick arms around Sebastian's back, pulling him close. Bulky hands caressed his naked skin, one moving up to cup the back of Sebastian's head and neck, fingers tangling into his hair. Carefully they massaged the soft skin of his nape.
Steve placed a loving kiss against his temple and then rested his cheek against the top of Sebastian's head, settling deeper into the connection with a sigh. Melting their bodies together like they were one.
At first he hadn't been sure why he even went to hug Steve, but now he knew.
It was different from Chris.
Better.
Steve held him like he was precious and worthy of love. His body and mind settled, the thoughts stopped screaming and the insects stopped running. Pleasant goosebumps spread over him, something he didn't even know existed.
Chris had made him nervous. Excited. Anxious. Always unsure, scared to do and say the wrong thing, hope thrumming under his skin with every interaction and getting squashed painfully by the end of it.
Steve made him feel safe. Wanted. Seen. An opposite effect of Chris. Calming. This was how he had felt whenever they were filming.
Perhaps this was the reason for why he had fallen in love with Chris in the first place. Why he had been so drawn to him from the first moment they both had stepped onto set.
Because he was Steve.
Perhaps he had never fallen for Chris.
Maybe it had been Steve all along.
Sebastian shuddered.
A mechanical slurring sound interrupted the quiet moment. He barely heard it before Steve pushed him behind his wide body and he was left peeking past the side of Steve's ridiculously broad shoulders.
They were left staring at a tall orange rectangle just floating and glimmering in the middle of the room. It emitted a soft light and a weird low humming sound.
A man stepped out of it, materializing out of thin air. Steve tensed further, taking a step backwards closer to Sebastian.
Just from his clothes, the man could blend in at first glance. A white dress shirt and a brown two piece suit, pulled together by a thin tie. An orange logo was printed on the chest pocket.
The man held his hands up in placating gesture, a rectangular device in his hand that looked like it tried to be a phone and failed.
"Don't worry, Captain. I'm not here to hurt anyone," the man spoke calmly, staying close to the shimmering doorway.
Sebastian tilted his head as he analyzed the face. Gray hair and a thick mustache, a nose that looked broken and a mouth that seemed like it wanted to form an amused little smirk.
"Holy shit," Sebastian breathed out. He laid a hand on Steve's arm. "Steve, hold on."
Steve relaxed only minutely, glancing back at Sebastian with a questioning frown.
"You're Owen Wilson," Sebastian blurted out.
Steve looked at him in a confused way. "You know this man?"
Owen tilted his head back and forth with a shrug. "In your universe, yes. But that's not the version of me that's here right now, I'm sure you figured that," Owen answered Sebastian's question.
"Listen, I'm only here to speak to..." the man's eyes flicked to Steve in an assessing way, "Bucky," he finished in a weird tone. "Can I call you Bucky?"
Sebastian also shortly looked to Steve before nodding. He stepped out from his safe spot behind Steve. "Buck-" Steve let out a frightened sound, catching Sebastian's arm before he could get any closer to fake Owen.
"It's okay," he assured Steve. It wasn't. Nothing was okay, truthfully. But somehow a variant of Owen Wilson appearing out of a portal wasn't the freakiest and scariest thing he'd witnessed today.
He was in that TV show about Loki. Right? Sebastian wasn't all caught up on the new Marvel movies and shows. He was too busy. Now he really wished he'd watched the second season. And the first one was a blurry memory, at best.
"You're, you're that guy, aren't you? Loki's friend from the show?" For the life of him, he couldn't remember his name.
"Mobius, yes," not Owen confirmed. Mobius, that's right.
Mobius watched Steve for a long moment before he sighed. "You're not going to leave, are you?"
"No", Steve responded immediately, firmly.
"Well then." Mobius sighed again. "I'm sure you're wondering why and how you're here?"
He stepped away from the portal thing and it shrunk back into nonexistence. Steve startled next to him.
Then Mobius sat down on Steve's cot, making himself right at home and patting the spot next to him. Sebastian sat, Steve trailing close by and remaining standing in front of them, right in Sebastian proximity, his eyes alert and trained on Mobius. Steve didn't seem to trust him one bit. Which was fair, honestly.
"Okay, so the truth is, we don't know how you got here."
Well that was reassuring. Very helpful.
"You shouldn't be here. Your universe doesn't have magic and nothing happened in this one that could have caused such a slip. So the only theory we have is that Loki put you here."
Sebastian was really lost now. Some low villain put him into a different universe? It would make more sense at this point if Thanos had snapped him over here for shits and giggles.
Mobius tilted his head back with a humming sound. "Right, sorry. Long story short, a different Loki from the one you know is now watching over the multiverse and keeping us safe. But still, that theory doesn't explain why he'd put you here, since we can't exactly just go up to him and ask."
Sebastian nodded slowly, although he could only make sense of half the words. This all sounded insane.
"So we thought it would be best to ask you what you want. Offer you a way home," he explained, raising up the little device in his hand and shaking it invitingly.
Sebastian was stunned. He didn't know what to say. He could go back. To his life. To acting. To Anthony.
To Chris.
He raised his eyes up to Steve, who was already watching him fretfully, confusion written all over his face at the interaction.
He released the breath he was holding.
"And... what's gonna happen here if I go back?" Something in the back of his mind remembered something about seeing timelines getting erased. He didn't want Steve to get erased.
"Bucky dies. Fully this time. He died a moment before you entered his body, he's already gone. But in a way he's still here, because you're here."
Steve flinched at the words.
Sebastian swallowed and licked his dry lips. He understood what Mobius meant.
"And if I stay?"
"You die. At least in your universe. Your soul is here. And you'll live your life here."
He swallowed again.
He began the sentence multiple times, unsure if he could handle the answer.
"Did he... did he ask for me? Worry about me? Anything?" Sebastian asked, fingertips tingling. He didn't have to speak his name, Mobius seemed to get who he meant.
Mobius heaved out long sigh like he was contemplating if he should stay silent or not. "No," he eventually said.
The word washed over him. He waited for it to tear his heart out, but it didn't. Somehow it didn't hurt. Maybe he was just numb at this point.
Silence laid itself over them for a moment.
"Listen... Bucky. There is a war here. You're aware of the pain in this universe. I can't promise you that you'll be safe here. Or happy. I can't tell you if you'll find here what you've been looking for." Mobius' face turned to Steve, his eyes saying what he meant without speaking it out loud. "But Loki seemed to believe that this was the right choice, he's never done something like this before. But the choice is yours."
The words resonated heavily in his chest. He didn't know what to think.
"And I'm gonna- what happened to him will happen to me?" He didn't want to be Bucky. Not the Bucky he knew.
Mobius just shrugged. "Bucky doesn't live to see that happen here. I don't know if he would have met the same fate if he had lived. But the future is in your hands now." Mobius smiled. "It's a free multiverse. You can do whatever you want. This is your timeline. Your life. If you want it?"
That was the question, wasn't it.
But somehow it wasn't a question at all.
One look up at those soft blue eyes made him realize that he had made up his mind from the first breath he took here.
"I want it."