[ this is hardly the first time steve's been stuck in unfriendly territory with a pack of wolves circling him. back in the war the howlies camped behind german lines more than a few times, so this, the sensation of being surrounded by the enemy with little to do about it -- that's as familiar as it gets, for steve. hell, he could probably sleep like this, if push came to shove and he was desperate for some shut-eye.

he's not desperate, though. it's barely been fifteen hours since the last time he slept, and steve can go a hell of a lot longer than that without sleeping when he needs to. what he's most worried about is whoever might be stuck outside with those things. it hardly takes any time at all before he's grabbing his tablet and turning on the video function, in full captain rogers mode. ]

Are we all present and accounted for? There's some activity outside that seems to be hostile. If we've got people stuck outside, someone needs to go bring them back in.

[ "someone" as if he doesn't know full well that someone's going to be him. ]

Make your head counts quick, people, we can't afford to lose time on this.

[ it's near midday, as far as steve can tell, when he comes upon the chapel. he hesitates before entering -- it's been a long time since he stepped foot in a church -- but eventually makes his way inside. any shelter is good, in a situation like this.

the church is non-denominational, it looks like, and aside from the saints on the walls steve would hardly be able to tell it was a christian church at all. he can't hear anything, from outside the chapel or within, and while he knows better than anyone that that doesn't necessarily mean there's no danger, he does slowly allow his guard to lower. it's a church, after all. what could happen here?

he paces the pews for a few minutes before abruptly sitting down near the front, brow furrowed as though he's confused by his own movements. steve... doesn't quite know if he believes anymore. for a while after he was pulled out of the ice he clung to the thought of god as a buoy, but the longer he's been out the harder it's been to find the faith he used to have. after everything with bucky... he can't imagine what kind of god would allow that to happen to someone as good as bucky. he was always a good man, the best steve ever knew, had faith of his own and did good in the world. what kind of god would allow a man like that to suffer so much? one that steve rogers couldn't believe in anymore.

and yet...

and yet here he is, sitting in a pew, staring at a stained glass window of saint leonard, with one prayer running through his head:

please let him be okay. whatever's happened to bring me here and leave him behind, please let him be okay.

steve doesn't move from the pew for a while. ]