"Steven," Namor called, cradling the Captain's head, "Steven." Damn that Jormungand, damn his brother, damn his father. He wasn't seeing blue eyes, nor feeling his breath. They wouldn't have. No.
"Steven." His voice was more urgent. The Sub-Mariner stretched a hand to the water faucet, turned it to ice cold. No longer comforting as he washed the scent and sweat, the evidence, of sex from him; he needed the man to wake up.
Still, he did not rise. Namor felt unfamiliar panic rise in his throat and his mind flashed to the scene of the crime. Judging from the trail, Steve had been crawling for the door for some time - hours, maybe days - and had come so close, with his outstretched hand almost touching the door.
If he and Loki had only arrived sooner...
"Steven," he nearly shouted. Still, there was nothing. Who could fix this? Who would know what to do?
"Someone bring me a phone!" There was murmuring, a stern voice, then someone came up the stairs.
It was Loki, and he was empty-handed, "Jormungand says he accidentally broke the phone. Why do you need it, darling?"
Namor suddenly felt a bitter feeling, something angry and burning. "The Captain isn't rousing."
"Oh, of course not. Jormungand assures me he's been well-fucked for over a week. I would be tired too." Namor resisted the urge to tighten his hands into fists, to grit his teeth, to show how that bitter feeling rose.
"He's only human, Loki. Superhuman, yes, but still mortal. Did they feed him? Allow him rest?"
"I don't-"
"From his scent, they wouldn't let even him use the bathroom. Don't you dare deny that," he warned as Loki made a pout, "You could smell it as well as I could. Now if I cannot call Stark to help him, then you must."
There was a pause, Loki crossed his arms, and his green hues roamed the sight. Namor had pulled the blond into the bathtub, into his lap, and water ran onto them both.
"I don't want to help you."
"What?" Namor allowed his shock to show, "but you were going to grant him immortality!"
"Now I have you and my sons. We can care for the children. I don't need Steven any longer," he answered casually, more interested in the tiling than his previous lover.
-
And then Namor convinces him to bring Steve back, and he does, grudgingly.
Steve gasps for air, then groans. Namor reaches over and turns off the water, watching intently as Cap blinks his eyes open.
"Namor...?" he rasped, "Namor, what-"
"Quiet, Captain." His voice was harsh, but somethign gathered in his eyes. Not enough to drip, but enough to gloss his vision.
The super-human lifted a shaky hand to his face. "Namor, you're cr-"
"Do not say it, Captain." the Sub-Mariner dipped down and pressed their foreheads together. It was a chance to collect himself, and to feel the warmth and life flow through his comrade once more. When Loki cleared his throat, the mutant glared up at him before growling, "Get him food. Now."
-
And they get talking, about how Namor found him, about how it happened, and how Namor wasn't sure he wanted anything more to do with Loki if that's how he raised his kids or how he treated his friends.
Steve pats his arm with a slight smile, having swallowed down a bowl or two of soup and at least three sandwiches, "Don't worry. You'll find that dream girl. Pretty blonde hair, confident, strong-willed, great smile...a real catch." And then he was drifting off, exhaustion having caught up once the starvation was sated.
But at that moment with Cap's breath coming out in slow, soft patterns, his body curled away from the door but closer still to his friend, Namor realized a horrifying truth.
It was Steve. Of all people, of all creatures...it was Steve.