A/N: A little bit of Avengers Christmas to get back into writing for this fandom. Happy Holidays!

Stille Nacht

Bruce nursed his beer in a quieter corner of the bar. It had been almost half a year since he abandoned the Avengers after the fight with Ultron and he couldn't decide yet if it was better. He had become a traveler in the world from Fiji to Australia, Kenya to Israel, and all the other countries that led him here to Germany.

Even on Christmas Eve, there were still patrons milling around and small groups huddled close together, joyous laughter bubbling up from them. Bruce smiled softly at them, knowing that at least with the Avengers actions at any point in time they had been kept safe so they could celebrate this holiday. His travels had left him weary, but he didn't want to go home yet, wherever that was. After everything that had happen and with such raw emotions that had been shared, he felt it was still too early. If and when he was ready, he would go back, but until then he would find small pockets in the world to seek refuge in.

The door of the bar opened, letting in a cold, sharp breeze. Heavy boots echoed across the wooden floor, but didn't stop anyone from continuing their conversations. Bruce looked up to glance at who had entered and was surprised at who he saw: it was Steve.

It seemed out of the ordinary to see someone he recognized after all of the months of only seeing strangers. It put him at unease, but there was always the chance he could slip out of the bar unnoticed. Steve was bundled up in a heavy coat, thick looking gloves, and a hat; most of his apparel concealing his identity. He ordered a beer and leaned against the bar, observing the insides of the establishment. Bruce had few options, but the best option would be to turn his face away and hope Steve wouldn't stay long; there was no way he could avoid him.

"Bruce?"

And apparently he was correct.

He turned to see that Steve had moved down two seats to sit next to him and his face was a mix of emotions from surprised to confused. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Hello Steve."

The bartender placed Steve's beer in front of him and he thanked him. "What are you doing here," he asked in a low tone so no one could over hear.

"Traveling, I just ended up here. Are you here on a mission?" Bruce absentmindedly traced patterns on the wooden top of the bar.

"In a sense. I've taken some time away to look for Bucky. I don't know if you know it or not, but things are starting to get tense."

"I try to keep up on the news. I know enough about it."

Steve nodded. "This is my only shot to look for him. Things are starting to get worse and I don't know when they'll get better." He sighed heavily and took a long sip from his beer. "I could really use your help if you'd offer it."

Bruce shook his head. "I'm definitely someone you don't want helping you. I just can't do it right now or maybe ever again. And not to mention staying away has been for the best."

Steve looked at him as if he was trying to contemplate something. He turned away and picked up his beer glass, mostly to have something to hold and not so much to drink. "Do you really believe that?"

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a troubled sigh. "Yes, I think so. Every time I try to help innocent people are hurt. Just look at Africa and all the other countless times before. I may be able to help when the times get tough, but I think the world will be better off without the other guy for a while."

"I understand that you wanted to get away from it all. Or maybe we don't understand, but that didn't stop us from looking. Not continuously, but when we went out on other missions, there was always the hope we could find you. At least to know you were okay. And alive." Steve finished quietly, the silence between them lingering.

Bruce looked away from him and out again at the tables and booths on the other side of the bar. All of the people around him were jovial and laughing; smiles stretching wide upon their faces and wrinkles formed from squinting eyes. Despite what had happened to the world in the past and what could come within the next years, they were happy. He could only hear and understand a few snatches of their conversations as they jumbled together and floated his way, but he didn't need to; their feelings were written on their faces. It was the holiday season; a time for family and friends.

"I don't care what you tell the others, or what you don't tell them. I'll be gone from here by the year's end; I never stay anywhere too long. If you feel it would be best to leave my whereabouts as they were before you stepped in here then be my guest, but if you think they need to know then tell them. I have learned a lot more about the world and myself while I have been traveling, but I don't think I am ready to go back yet." He picked his glass up and tilted it back; the last of the dark liquid trickling down. "But I will eventually. Something will happen, most likely big, and when it gets to where you need me or the other guy, I'll be there."

Steve nodded and pulled an over-folded wad of cash on the bar. "I'd rather we need you and not the other guy, but…when you do come back, we'll be there, waiting for you."

He pulled on his coat, shoving his arms down the sleeves. "Thank you, Steve." He got off the barstool and placed some bills next to his glass. "And merry Christmas."

Steve smiled. "Merry Christmas to you too."

Bruce left the bar, the sharp, icy wind assaulting any exposed piece of skin, hands deep in his pocket. He felt a bit more content than he had since his travels began. A familiar face in an unfamiliar place reminding him that somewhere out there were people who cared and somewhere to always return too.