Harrow's eyes close tighter before they slowly open. For a long while he doesn't move. He stares at the runes on the top of the bed. There are so many thoughts in his head that he can't consider any of them. His mind is blank. After much hesitation he turns to see who's moving beside him.

Viatorus? He's in bed with Viatorus? Before he can process it a deep wave of shame washes over him. He draws the blankets up defensively until they bump his chin, and that's when he notices his hands.

Peach. Warm. Small. Steve. He's Steve. Steve is V. He took a shower. He's in bed now. Time feels like a blur, but... He hadn't fallen asleep. Had he? He'd just been awake! They had their bodies back. Steve found his portal home. They were touring Brooklyn. He saw the river! He saw the bridge! The school, the room, the theatre, the alley... Bucky. And then the man with the metal arm and the wild hair that Steve thought was his friend.

His chest starts to rise and fall too rapidly. He's breathing out of control. He has to get a hold of himself. Just calm down. Count. Breathe. Slowly.

Slowly...

Calm...

Okay.

He stares at Steve-as-Viatorus, eyes wide. His lips part, but it's a while before he can speak. What should he say? What can he say?

Finally he whispers, his voice as small as it can be, "Is everything okay?"