Present Day

Stark Tower

Despite Steve's persistence, Bucky remained still. The door between them locked. Leaning on the wall behind Steve, Natasha let out a quiet sigh. She took a step towards the captain and let her hand rest gently on his shoulder.

"I know you want to help him, but I think he needs some time alone. To process."

Steve swallowed thickly.

"It wasn't his fault. He needs to know that."

"He will," She responded immediately, grasping the fist that was raised to knock on the door again with her other hand. Natasha scanned Steve's face for a moment before he finally drew his gaze from the door to her. "He will, in time. But right now, he's grieving. Confused. Angry. You feel a little of that too, don't you?"

Steve disconnected their stare and looked down. She was right, they both knew it.

"Let him figure it out. Where he stands. What he wants to do." Natasha murmured tenderly, tilting her head to get a better view of the captain's bowed head. "You could probably stand to do the same. Maybe in a couple of days, you'll both be in the right place to actually talk about it."

Steve ran a hand through his hair before sighing wearily. He looked at the assassin and relented.

"You're right."

"I'm always right." She replied with a smirk, crossing her arms and taking a few steps back. "C'mon, cap. Tomorrow's another day to get through to him."

Steve glanced at the door that separated him from his best friend. It seemed like the barrier between them was more than just a door and a lock. Bucky had been making such tremendous progress. His comfort level when it came to being around Steve and the other avengers was increasing by the day. He was learning how to better cope with his PTSD. He had been laughing and smiling. Bucky's shattered life was finally coming back together, albeit slowly, and piece by piece. Memories were returning. Some of them fragments, some of them full and a bittersweet reminder of all that had been taken from him.

The past few weeks, they had been trying to track down an old friend. Steve was forced to chuckle a little when Bucky had referred to her as such. Bucky and she had been so much more than friends all that time ago.

Steve had done his own research without Bucky, of course. He had hoped to find out what happened to her before his friend did on the off chance that maybe the information would do more to hurt Bucky's progress than help it. A part of Steve yearned to find out something good, however. She had been special to him, as well, and had received a good portion of the letters the captain sent out during his time overseas. He was hoping to find an address or a telephone number. If he couldn't contact her directly, maybe a family member or anyone else who could point them in the right direction.

Steve had hoped that the right direction wouldn't point them towards a gravesite. Outside of losing yet another old friend, it would be a lost opportunity. Despite the sadness that consumed Steve after his first reunion with Peggy, it had been a positive thing. Her words, like always, grounded him and set him straight. Steve held out hope that Bucky could have the same experience.

Steve dragged his eyes away from the door and to Natasha who waited patiently for him. They set off towards the rec room, a solemn silence between them. Steve shook his head bitterly, remembering the hope that had swelled in the pit of his stomach when he had found the file marked Bergmann, Anne. What vain hope it had been.