Chapter Text
Steve knows time travel tires the body. Hell, he just experienced it barely 32 hours prior to returning to the Quantum Realm yet again. What he was not prepared for though---what Scott and Alex Harkness didn't tell him--- was the mental strain.
Going back with the others gave him adrenaline that kept him moving as it blended with the serum like every other fight before this one. The serum, the fight, the backup; he has always used it absentmindedly. But his tactic changes when he's on his own, a tactic surrounding focus and set objectives. Similar to a Bite and Hold, careful planning around a set goal, seizing small victories through each stone's return, and hold onto that specific focus as he moves to the next. It keeps his focus from wandering, from thinking back to the battle and those he lost. Specifically, the two Avengers the team lost. He shakes his head as he travels through the swirls and flashes of colour, focusing on the tunnels and pathways laid out for him like a trench map. Steve never saw the First World War, and he doesn't remember the end of it since he was only a few months old, but he pictures the trench maps convoluted like this realm. Tiring, straining, and flashes distracting his vision as he navigates through time.
The battle lingers through his mind. All the running and clashing, all the aches through his body as Thanos pounded his arms to shatter his shield, all the pounding on his legs when he sprinted into battle before hard stops. Steve's fingers tingle too, static electricity from Mjölnir lingering in phantom shocks. The lightning thrilled him, pushing it forward and pairing it with the powers and strength around him in a chaotic unity against an enemy out of time. But with all the thrill, guilt as heavy as lead overwhelms any post-battle adrenaline. Perhaps he could have done more, taken a faster route to intercept Tony and Thanos; or maybe he could have killed Thanos before it got to the point where Tony needed to snap his fingers. Maybe stopping Tony's death isn't the way to think about it and Steve's discontent with the losses rises from a different focus. Maybe he should have been faster to pull Raven off Tony, or gotten between them somehow. Tony and Raven's deaths weigh on his chest, restraining his breathing like his asthma before the serum as his mind refuses to rest and focus on the new objectives. Natasha's too. Steve barely said goodbye to Tony, barely made it in time with the small crowd of thankful heroes, wishing he could have given Tony more time by taking his place. Steve has had a life beyond his years and sacrifice is not a foreign concept. It came in the war knowing the risks of Project Rebirth, it came knowing that many of the soldiers he met would never return, it came when he sent the plane into the ocean. It came in 2012 against the Chitauri as protection overtook the needs to preserve his own life which repeated against Ultron and transferred into his opposition to the Accords and criminal status. One more sacrifice, in Steve's eyes, would be easy if he had been a little faster.
His mental spiral stops when he swerves into the first channel. This time will be easier, this time he knows the modified layout and he rises in a storage closet close to Hank Pym's lab. Camp Lehigh is not a large area, concentrated with bodies on direct schedules and focused eyes that scan for irregularities and anyone out of rhythm, a rhythm schooled into him well before he became a dancing monkey with a cheap shield. Steve focuses on time, staying on time despite the pounding in his chest urging for rapid action and mindless reflex. One second after the previous departure, easing the door open and sliding into the hallway once again.
The dark lab lights up the further Steve moves inward, amplifying his step as the echo ricochets around him. He remembers where the Space stone lies, hell, he just took it less than a minute ago, and moves with that swift rhythm that blends into the militaristic status quo. Tucking his chin lets the brim of his hat cast a shadow across his face and eyes the further he moves in. Now Steve knows to go the other way back to the main area for his departure, but that comes in two minutes.
He slides the compartment open, he pauses to ensure it's correct, he puts the stone and cube inside and slides it closed. Steve sighs with a faint grin.
Now, to move on. To make the jump to the next destination. Steve has a route in mind: start the furthest back, then go to the ones not on earth. Then finish with the ones he knows and the dreaded soul stone. The last one may take the longest, so he plans on returning that one last to give himself time. Yet as he moves towards the stairwell, choosing to avoid the elevator, an unknown sensation gnaws at him, an intuition to perhaps stay at the camp for just a few minutes longer. Maybe it's silent procrastination, or maybe it's quiet longing. The feeling grows regardless. So he does; and instead of the exit, Steve walks down the same hallway as before.
This time the guards have already passed, giving him a breather with his tucked chin and lowered brim. Walking through brings a nostalgic pain in his chest as he passes Peggy's office again. The pause from the initial heist reignited a desire from embers into a small flame that flickers with hope that she will pass him and he can catch her eye, maybe pause this whole mission just for a little longer, just for a little more time. One last goodbye.
A sharp rhythm of footsteps interrupts his reminiscing. His eyes glance upwards and spots four guards marching in a square, staring straight ahead with pistols in their right hands. To their left shoulders marches a man in a straight suit, hints of dirt dusting the shoulders as tired blue eyes look to his right with a schooled scowl. Steve moves into an empty office as he recognizes the similarities between the man in front of him and the son he met through SHIELD. He's read this man's file. This is Michael Fitzgerald.
"This isn't necessary," a woman's familiar voice rings through his ears and Steve's eyes dart up. His own eyes follow the petite figure boxed between the guards approaching his location. His eyes dart down to the heavy metal restraints that climb to her elbows and rest chained together.
"After what we all saw back there, yes this is." Michael barely looks over as they walk by, "maybe you shouldn't have brought a large snake disguised as a coma patient into the building. SHIELD doesn't forgive easily."
Steve's heart drops the longer he sees her. Raven; the same woman whom he met all those decades ago and disguised herself just to go after him and Bucky in the war. A Howlett who put her life on the line right alongside her brother until the last second, now surrounded by guards wearing a prisoner's uniform. Green eyes now hold a glassy overlay behind shaggy hair as if stuck in a thousand-yard stare, begging for understanding.
"I didn't know!" Her voice cracks as she passes the office, eyes staring right through both Michael and the wall between her and Steve. He shudders at the rasp in her voice and the sunken look to her face. "For all I knew she was a mutant stuck in Weapon X with me."
Weapon X; he's heard about that. Raven told him about it and the mere thought brings goosebumps to his arms. She told him about the torture and the experiments when they were on the run after the Accords, and about her apparent heart attack on the table that ruptured her heart, leading to it healing wrong. She told him about nearly dying multiple times as scientists laughed and theorized, forgetting the human behind the studies. Steve knows she wasn't alone, but he isn't sure who else was in there since she wasn't specific. It's all guesswork through broken recollections for everyone, including SHIELD.
"I won't be the one determining what happens," Michael's voice grows faint as they move further down the hallway, "you can talk to Sitwell or Stark and Agent Carter before anything else happens."
Sitwell. The mention of him brings a frown to Steve as he puts the pieces of the puzzle together. Hydra's roots go back further than he imagined, Zola's words from all those years ago come true in his mind. Operation Paperclip growing and infesting SHIELD from the inside for decades beyond anyone could see. Right underneath Howard and Peggy, right under the focus on a chained and traumatized Raven held in custody with...another, clearly. Steve bites down on nausea as he watches the guards and his old friends fade down the hallway, their words now drowned out with the melodic chaos of voices and footfalls around the office.
Steve wants to step out of the office and stop them. He wants to demand answers in front of that entire hallway and break those restraints off Raven's wrists and take her away from here. But he can't. He's lost in the ice right now and cannot expose himself, he knows that. Or he could go back into Peggy's office and rig whatever files there are into her favour regardless of how brutal the event referenced. But his watch beeps instead and stops him; that painful, painful reminder that this isn't his time, it's merely a piece of the past that he cannot interrupt. There is no time left; not right now this early into his mission. The desire flickers out as he activates his suit and vanishes into the Quantum Realm while his mind returns to 1970, then back to 1945. He could go back when this finishes, and he wants to. Steve could regain the self he left behind when he crashed the plane and see the history he should have seen, back in the "good ol' days," as they are often called. Growing old quietly has always been on his checklist; unwritten, but on the list. It's tempting, but there are matters to attend to first. For now, he focuses on this last mission.
This jump challenges his muscles, creeping in with lactic acid from the strain of the Quantum Realm. Scott warned him of fatigue and the strain on the body and advised him to fight the adrenaline this time around, and Steve knows how to do that with his background. A flash and bang creates a flinch sideways and a bump against the tunnel as a momentary distraction from his body, and the recovery flies by with the passing seconds. But the aches start with a dull roar as he pushes forward, letting forward momentum carry him rather than force himself faster to the next stop: Morag.
When the momentum stops Steve stumbles as dizziness takes hold and he leans against some rocks to regain balance and ground his awareness in the unknown world around him. After gulping some air he releases his helmet and suit and looks around, blinking hard to adjust his eyes to the dark landscape. Purple and black, far from what he expected Morag to look like but the concept of space and the universe is vast and abstract in his mind, leaving him with no set image of these galaxies. Once he's grounded he moves on, trudging through the strange atmosphere and surroundings towards the Temple of the Power Stone.
The case feels heavy in his hand while Mjölnir simply blends into the natural movement of his arm. His boots stain and slurp through mud and a water-like liquid as he moves further into this unknown gloom. Purple disguises anything he may recognize as he comes across shadows and uncanny nature, but he moves forward rather than dwell and pushes the past and future aside; right now is important, replacing the power stone is the most important objective right now. His focus keeps his vision straight ahead, past the screeching amphibians around his feet and ankles, past the outcrops capable of hiding potential threats, past the unconscious man on the ground as Steve moves into the temple. Rhodey assured him it would be open for his return and he's thankful for that as he walks in, gently placing the case down and opening it.
Steve grabs the ball, the case as some put it, with the heavy Quantum suit gloves thanks to Rocket's adjustments for this return. On one knee he lets the case and stone reconnect as if it never left its humble home, pausing to close the case again before rising. Steve glances over his shoulder as uncertainty climbs his neck, a quiet hint to speed this up and move onto the next one despite the surrounding silence. That doesn't ease his intuition though, not without a confirmed sealed perimeter but working alone rarely brings absolute security. Without another glance for false cover he holds the stone to the platform, feeling a force pulls it from his fingers. His releases and recoils before light surrounds it again and he feels heat on his face from the light barrier. With a nod he exhales quietly.
The sound of a charge makes him pause and he glances over his shoulder again. Steve's stomach lurches when he sees the unconscious man from earlier, Quill, upright and alert, holding a loaded gun-style weapon a few feet from him.
"Step away slowly," Quill calls out before Steve turns around. "I'm here for that."
Steve stays still but keeps a single eye on Quill, focused on keeping his breathing steady to level his voice. "I know you are. I was just leaving."
"Sure, Spaceman Spiff." Quill scoffs and raises the weapon towards Steve's chest. "Turn around slowly, or you'll regret it. I've got important business with that--that ball thing."
Steve closes his eyes and takes a breath, internally weighing his options and possible consequences of each. This isn't idea regardless, but would jumping into the Quantum Realm right now affect this timeline? He stifles a groan at the thought; they already messed with this timeline by coming back...or however time travel works. Banner's explanation wasn't entirely clear and then Alex muttered something completely different, leaving the Avengers more confused than confident before the Heist itself. But they left that behind for hope. Now, Steve needs to find that same hope.
He opens his mouth to negotiate, to offer a peaceful retreat so he can make the jump out of sight, when Quill speaks again. "What's in the case?"
Steve wants to say: you have to be shitting me; Steve wants to hold the case close and just run without another word; Steve wants to throw Mjölnir as a distraction and make the jump. All three would be bad decisions here and would end in a fight, with someone, probably him, shot. Instead he swallows the lurch in his chest and the sudden dryness in his throat. "My own private business."
"Must be valuable."
Uh oh.
"Let me pass by and the ball is yours," Steve offers with a calm voice, picking the case up again while holding Mjölnir at his side. He turns around with a silent authority, rolling his shoulders back in false confidence to look Quill directly in the eye. "Trust me, Quill, you only want that."
Quill fires his weapon at Steve's feet, forcing him to step off the clear path. "I'll just take it all, how's that for you?"
Quill lurches forward and Steve barely dodges with his hands full, using his shoulder to force Quill back while wishing for his shield. Quill's fist and weapon meet his stomach and Steve stumbles with loose fingers around the case's handle, leaving it behind. He moves forward as well, planting his legs and throwing two jabs and backing up. When Quill lunges again, Steve rolls behind him and swipes at his legs and pauses when the other stumbles. He tilts his head and glances at the case again. When his watch sounds he groans, the mission is now behind schedule.
Steve wanders back to the case when his foot disappears from under him as Quill pulls him down with a thud. Steve's knees hit the rocky floor as Quill smashes his chin with the weapon and fist, leaving the familiar sting of skin splitting. Another kick sends Steve rolling backwards to deflect as the other reaches the case. Quill lifts it with a grin, moving it up and down to test the weight in his hand. With a groan Steve stands, eyes on the case and Quill's feet, watching for hints of strikes. He moves before acting, that pattern is clear.
He rises again, getting up like all the fights before this one. Doing it again and again, all day until this last mission passes. Steve moves towards Quill with his arms up this time, forcing him backwards with a kick and elbow jab. Quill drops the case to deflect, focusing on defense as Steve pushes forward. His strength doesn't waver as Steve keeps going despite the blood drops following him like a trail of breadcrumbs.
This has to end, it's been too long. Another burst of energy brings a kick to Quill's ankles before Steve jumps into an aerial. The wind surrounds him as his heel meets Quill's chest to push him backwards. The other falls with a grunt, Steve lands on his toes and crouches for a silent landing. This time he doesn't pause, moving back to the case and Thor's hammer and walking back outside.
More footsteps come into earshot, a rushed march growing louder as their feet hit the purple land. Steve doesn't wait any longer, activating his suit and dropping into the Quantum Realm once again. He's thought about these stones, fought about these stones, and now he's onto the next one.