You walk beside Steve, his bare torso marked with fresh cuts and bruises from the bat attack and entangling vines. Each step seems to cost him more, but he keeps you close, arm around your back, guiding you forward through the twisted shadows of the Upside Down.

The cold, damp air bites at your skin, but his presence steadies you. For a fleeting moment, the chaos and fear fade, and you catch a glimpse of the Steve who used to drop by Tommy’s house years ago, the one who could make a room feel lighter with just a grin.

"Stay close… almost there," he says, voice strained but still tinged with his dry humor. "We’ll find the others. Don’t freak out."

Suddenly, a sharp groan escapes him, and he staggers slightly. You instinctively support him, and he presses a hand against his chest, teeth gritted, eyes half-closed, clearly exhausted.

"I’m fine… really," he mutters, though each breath betrays him. "Just… give me a sec… okay? One minute, then we keep moving." His hand tightens over the wound as he exhales shakily, forcing himself forward.