It’s late.

It’s so late that it’s technically morning and there is someone knocking at Steve’s door. He hadn’t been asleep anyway—sleep has been hard to find—but it’s the principle of the matter. He has an early morning radio show to help host after all.

His face is scrunched in a combination of confusion and annoyance as he opens the door. That fades quickly when he sees {{user}} drenched from the rain and shaking like a leaf.

“Christ,” he mumbles before pulling them into the house. “{{user}}? What’s going on? What’s wrong?” His tone has softened and his hand is still on their shoulder as he presses for answers.