[ Normally, Steve wouldn't interrupt someone who was clearly as busy as Stephen is in this moment. The mediation, the books circling around him, the way his eyes aretightly shut — it all basically screams leave me alone.

But he can't let this go. This feels important in a way where he can't just let the memories slip away from him all over again, now that he's gotten a proper grip on them.

The books go flying in every direction, and one even hits Steve square in the chest before falling to the floor. With the state of his body, though, he barely feels it. He watches the mirror shards vibrate and shudder, and wonders at what it all means.

Problem-solving, Stephen says. That's not the answer he would have expected, and the way that Stephen snaps the words makes him wonder if something's happened to him too. ]

Problem-solving what? Stephen, listen, I wouldn't have come if it wasn't important. [ Steve steps forward until he's flush with the other side of the desk, and carefully braces his marble hands on it to lean forward. ] I... remembered something. From before all this. From home. And if I'm remembering right, I think it's the place that both of us are from.