It's absurd.

But nothing is absurd when Scott Lang has managed to escape the Quantum Realm twice. First, by sheer will power, the second, by pure luck. Maybe it was the universe's way of telling him he was meant for something more, like bringing half of the population back, saving the world. Pitching the idea of time travel sounds crazy, even for him, despite having been in the subatomic level, and is grateful when Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff seems unfazed by the whole idea.

Though, he restrains himself from nearly striking Tony Stark in the face when he ridicules his idea of a time heist. Still, within days, he figures out the mechanics of the time machine, and Scott becomes part of the team, helping to build the Quantum Gate, and designing the Quantum suit. Hope would be so proud of him.

Hope. He thinks of Hope every so often that he's been having nightmares. She was the best thing that had happened to him, after Cassie. It's difficult to wrap around his head, that within five hours of being trapped in the boundless, infinitesimal world, she was gone with the snap of a finger.

A painful, strangled laugh escapes from his lips. In a few minutes, he would be seeing her. It was the sole reason he had volunteered to test run for the newly built Quantum Gate, in hopes of catching a glimpse of Hope, again.

Remembering almost breaking down saying her name a few days ago, he realises he hasn't had a proper time to grief, and it hits him hard. A wave of inevitable sadness looms over him. And then his heart squeezes in his chest, a lump forms in the back of his throat and tears start to well up in his eyes.

He sinks down onto the floor and draws his knees up to his chest, feeling the ground beneath it, the only stability, clutching to it. He cards his fingers through his hair and buries his face deep into his arms, and slips into the dark recesses of his mind.

Beneath the bright, cheerful disposition, there's an undeniable darkness that lurks within. Maybe it has something to do with his incarceration, the long, isolated nights, (before Luis came along), the dark, narrow corridors, away from his family, contributing to his insecurity and anxiousness. Often, those thoughts are kept in a small part of his mind, sealed away. But now it's back, haunting him.

Maybe this is retribution for the things he had fucked up in the past, that karma is hurting not only him, but hurting the people he loves, like Cassie, like Hope. Honestly, he'd rather bear the brunt of it.

"You're ready?" Scott jumps at Steve's voice, and sees his head poking out through the door. "If you need a minute, we can wait," Steve offers considerately. There's an understanding in his eyes, after all, he's lost almost everything.

"No, no, no, I'm fine," Scott flashes the widest grin he can muster, locks away the dark thoughts and pushes himself off the floor. "Let's do this." And the fierce determination burns in him again.

He shakes away the grief, because he's going to bring her back.

Without a doubt.

...

Standing on the Quantum Gate, Scott snaps his helmet into place, not paying attention to Bruce Banner's countdown cue. And then he's shrinking, his heart lurches and his stomach turns inside out as he travels through time, everything expanding at a dizzying speed.

Within moments, Scott feels himself being thrown onto steady ground. He lands on all fours, groaning, and it takes him a moment to feel like his organs are in place, before he glances around, surveying the familiar narrow hallway.

Hope's apartment.

A flurry of footsteps and whispers echoes down the corridor, causing him to scramble off the ground hastily, and he shrinks with the push of the button by his thumb. It isn't exaggerating when his heart almost leaps out from the confines of his ribcage when he catches sight of Hope's silhouette, hand-in-hand, with himself.

It worked.

Scott is back in 2015.

There is a soar of excitement, but at the same time, a deep pang of sorrow hits him.

His gaze falls on their intertwined hands, the spring of air in their footsteps as they approach Hope's apartment. Hope's cheeks are flushed from the cool winter night, looking soft and beautiful, with Scott's jacket around her shoulders. She is visibly relaxed and unguarded, a side of her that never ceases to amaze him.

He sinks back against the wall, shoulders slumped, and watches the past unfold itself in front of his eyes.

A time gap is all that stands between them. She was painfully close, but so far away.

Scott was able to pinpoint the correct coordinates of his back to the past because he remembers the night clearly. It was the first time he had brought her to a fancy restaurant, in the six months they were dating, a change from their usual taco dates or hole in the wall restaurants. He will never forget how she had took his breath away, with the sleeveless, mini black dress she was wearing, revealing her perfect, toned shoulders and arms, and hugging her curves in the right way, the smell of her perfume floating down the doorway. He must have looked like an idiot, with his wide eyes and gaping mouth, and all she did was shake her head, biting back a smile, preceded by a tease.

The kind of smile that makes his heart flutter, every single time.

He would give anything to see her smile, right now, in 2023.

They linger at her front door, but Scott knows his past self leaves within a few minutes because he's got Cassie's soccer game to catch tomorrow that he doesn't intend to miss. He watches himself gently taking Hope's hands in his, playfully swinging them, and then he leans forward and kisses her, the sparks of electricity so evident dancing between them.

It's a memory that's etched in his mind, that it seems almost wrong to intrude because it's private and intimate.

Scott wants to tell himself to not cross half the world to Germany, to not make the mistakes he made. Wants to tell him to hold her tight and never let go. Wants to tell him to love her like he's going to lose her.

He's shaking with emotion, jaw clenched tight.

Finally, he leaves, and when Hope closes the door, Scott watches himself swing a victorious fist up in the air, as he half skips and half walks away.

Scott knows he shouldn't be doing what he's about to do, but given his long history of breaking the rules, he's not going to give this a pass. It's too precious of an opportunity to waste. He can't change the past, but he is desperate, desperate for a brief contact with Hope. Just in case. In case he fails, or dies in the process. He doesn't even want to think about it.

For what seems like an eternity, Scott gathers his courage, already stripped off his suit, and rings the doorbell. He inhales sharply and waits, his heart hammering wildly in his chest, palms sticky with sweat. The door opens, and out peeks Hope, in her comfortable sweater and yoga pants, the kind of clothes she always changes into. He wants nothing more than to bury his face into her shoulder, take in her sweet scent.

"Scott?" Confusion crosses her features, her brows knitting into a frown.

God, the things she makes him feel whenever she calls his name.

Scott stares at her, not blinking, his mind completely blank. She's real, and as solid as the ground he's standing on, because she's right in front of him, not reduced to a pile of ash, not snapped out from existence.

"Is everything okay?" He can hear the concern in her voice and he figures it's most probably because of his panic-stricken face. He sucks in a breath.

Scott is never good at repressing his emotions, unlike Hope, but he has to try.

"Everything's fine Hope," he lies, forcing out a smile while ignoring the annoying lump that's back at his throat. He can't let her know because he doesn't want to scare her, can't let her share the burden of the weight of the world on his shoulders.

So he reigns his emotions together, and focuses intently on her, committing every detail to memory, like he has a million times. Paying attention to how the dim lights of the foyer catches the highlights of her dark hair falling around her shoulders, the scatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose, the angular curve of her cheekbones, and the softness of her lips.

Eyes never leaving her face, slowly, the pounding in his ears settles, and his heart eases into a slow, rhythmic state.

She cuts out all the noise, always.

"I just, I just miss you," Scott swallows thickly, smile still remaining, tenderness simmering beneath the surface of his words, which is nothing but the truth.

Hope raises a brow, despite the slight upward quirk to her lips, amused by Scott's sudden endearing attachment. "You were just here half an hour ago," Hope teases gently, though she crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe, eyeing Scott thoughtfully. She knows she shouldn't find it amusing, because Scott is often random and spontaneous, quirks contributed by his street-smart trait.

But something is different about Scott that's standing right in front of her. Scott is carefree, and happy and oozing with idiotic confidence. He is never fraught, but she senses the anxiety emanating off him. His eyes are hollow, painful and even weary, like he's seen the end of the world. He looks older, wiser, and there are specks of grey in his stubbled cheeks. And then she notices a faint scar right above his eyebrow that she was sure wasn't there before.

Years of dealing with calculative businessmen, opponents, and rivals had made Hope adept at reading people, even picking up the most minute of details that aunt Peggy had said she'd always make a good spy if science wasn't her first love. And, something is wrong.

"You're not Scott," Hope whispers and before Scott registers what she just said, she's already pinning him forcefully against the door, her forearm across his chest, her free hand ready to swing a punch.

"Who are you and what have you done with Scott," she hisses, her eyes dark and cold. She is so close that he feels her cool breath on his face. There's a fierce protectiveness when she says his name, and it makes him want to weep.

But he doesn't. "Hope," he says gently, unafraid, even though she looks amazingly scary and beautiful at the same time, and stays limp under her hold. He knows the reason behind her cautiousness because at this period of time, Hydra is still at large with a vial of Pym Particles that they stole, which they would successfully retrieve in the next months.

He craves for her touch, but not in this way.

"Remember when you told me about the story behind your necklace?" Scott's eyes flicker to her necklace with the double pendants - an acorn and an oak leaf, "that you've been wearing your mother's necklace, a gift by Hank, since she disappeared and I couldn't believe that Hank was such a hopeless romantic..." His voice trails away and he feels her loosening her grip on him, her eyes trusting.

She has never told anyone the story before, only to Scott.

"And you fell over laughing and wouldn't stop till..."

"Till you threatened to kick me out of bed," Scott squeezes out a small laugh, finishes her sentence.

Hope softens immediately, her posture relaxing. It is him, but it's not him.

"Hope...," Scott has so many things to say to her but the words dies in his throat. He reaches his hand out slowly, allowing time for Hope to back away if she wants to. But she stands still, and he touches her face, trails a line from the corner of her eye down to her jaw. He steps forward, and kisses her, tentative, gentle, as if afraid he will be pulled through time if he kisses her more.

A pang of recognition rumbles deep in Hope's belly when he kisses her and she deduces it is Scott, even though he is acting terribly weird.

He feels her slip her hand around his biceps, squeezing it, and he feels like he's about to combust. He misses the sound of her voice. Misses the rush of her skin. Misses everything about her that it aches to the bones.

But Hope, oblivious to his predicament, kisses him back, and without a care, he deepens the kiss. This time, it's rushed, uncoordinated, with the fervour of a man who's deprived of the love of his partner for so long. He tangles his fingers in her hair, while her hand snakes around his waist, her grip tightening, and he longs for her to hold him forever.

And then in the middle of it all, he whispers an I love you against her lips. It comes out muffled, but Scott knows she hears it because she freezes. And then Hope's hands are on his chest, and he pulls way, just enough to take in her face. Her eyes are wide in shock, but then the sides of her eyes starts to crinkle and there's a smile forming in her dimpled cheeks.

He hasn't say it to her yet, at this time, because he was afraid she was going to build walls around her heart again, or push him away. Though, he thinks the three words fails to encompass his unfaltering love for her, because his love for her is like the vast universe, endless and infinite.

Hope doesn't say it back, but Scott knows by the way she's looking at him, eyes bright with love and it's enough for him now, to get through this.

The time-space GPS starts vibrating on his wrist. Time is ticking.

"I have to go," Scott pulls away, even though his body is protesting against it. "I just need you to know that despite all the stupid things I've done, I have never stopped loving you, and I'm going to find a way back to you, always."

God, it hurts.

There are a million of questions reeling in Hope's mind. "Scott, what's going on? I don't understand..." She takes hold of his hand, and Scott wishes he could stay a little bit longer, but he can't.

"Would you believe it if I told you I'm from the future?"

Hope lets out a laugh, and his heart swoops. And then Hope remembers about the stories that aunt Peggy used to tell her when she was a child, about aliens, about space, about time travel. But it isn't possible.

"I know, it's crazy."

He cups her face once more, pulls her close, and presses a kiss on her forehead, then her eyes, her nose, and then her lips. Tenderly, their lips touch and stay, foreheads grazing together and Hope can feel his ragged breathing against her lips. "I'll see you soon," Scott pulls away and looks at her, his eyes boring into her, engraving every inch of her into memory.

Resisting the urge to look longer, he turns on his heels and runs away. He can hear Hope calling his name, and he prays hard that she doesn't follow him, refrains himself from looking back, anguish tearing through him.

The time-space GPS rings, and he feels himself being drawn away, and then he's back at the Avengers headquarters, all fours on the Quantum Gate, yelling, in distraught, and discombobulated. Steve reaches to him first, his hands on Scott's shoulders, and it takes him a while to realise he's back in 2023.

"It worked, it worked," Scott mumbles, staggering to stand on his feet. And then he remembers his encounter with Hope. Hope. He lets out a shuddering gasp, a wave of nausea hits him, and suddenly he can't breath, his throat is clogged up, his heart is thumping like crazy, and he feels like the walls are closing on him even though he's at an open space. And the suit, the suit is suffocating and tight, and he tries hard to yank it away at the collar because he can't seem to press the button to turn it off.

Shit. He's having a panic attack.

He hasn't had one in years, the last time being the close encounter in getting trapped in the Quantum Realm, the panic attacks coming whenever he put the suit on. He had Hope to guide him through it then. But she's not here now.

Scott is falling apart.

"Hey, Scott. Scott, you need to breathe, okay?" Scott can hear Steve's voice, but it seems small and far away. He knows he needs to focus, so he drifts away to the times when Hope would hold him, while he drowns in her warm, green eyes, when she would touch his face, hold him still, reassuring him gently. In. Out. In. Out. He inhales and exhales slowly, until his breathing finally slows, his body stops trembling, and the world stops spinning.

He sits on the ground, and buries his face into his hands, can feel the dampness of his cheeks.

"You're alright?" Steve squeezes his shoulder. He doesn't look up, but nods nevertheless. He has to be alright, has to be in the right mind because he can't risk losing her another time. Not this time.

Scott is going to bring Hope back.

Whatever it takes.