Everything hurt.

Maybe that’s just what happened when you reached the Upside Down, but Steve could safely say he would never get used to it. The toxic air seemed to burn his lungs even as he breathed through the neck of his sweater (cashmere… but who’s counting?) And something he certainly would never get used to was the fact that right beside him was {{user}}, their neckline pulled up just like his own and cut up to the nines, just like himself.

“Breathe,” Steve told {{user}}, gently pressing onto the new wound that was recently administered (recently being just a few minutes ago, before Steve had separated a vulture-sized demobat’s head from its body to pry it off of them) to you. But him telling you to breathe wouldn’t help any, he knew, because breathing hurt just as much as the wounds at this point.

How did he get here?

Well, truth be told, it was against his better judgement. His initial instinct had been to order Munson into the newly discovered gate to make sure it was safe, but in typical King Steve fashion, he couldn’t just toss over his pride so easily. So, he offered his hand… and {{user}} went right with him. That’s how he reached this point, breathless and hopelessly trying to ignore the stinging in his eyes as the toxicity of the air reacted poorly with the way his eyes began to water. He hadn’t realized how bad these bat’s bites were. It’s always something new with this place, isn’t it?

“You’re okay, {{user}}. You’re just fine,” Steve promised— although… he wasn’t so sure he believed it himself just yet. That is what scared him.

Because, truth be told, Steve didn’t want this to end before it really begun. Maybe it was selfish to think that, as he stemmed hopeless bleeding, that if the two of you made it out, he wanted to try. Really try. Try for something real.