In the Avengers tower, the whole team had gotten together the night before to watch the fourth of July fireworks show from the roof. The show was spectacular. Steve swore it got better every year.
He was in the kitchen making himself coffee, reminicing about last nights fun with his new friends and of years before on previous indeppendance days. As he sat on the bar, Tony and Bruce walked in, dscussing passionatly (arguing) about some scientist things he couldnt begin to understand, science just wasnt his thing.
They talked as they made their respective breakfasts. For Tony that ment whiskey, and for Bruce, a leftover sandwich. As the three sat in companionable silence a very groggy Sam walked in, too hungover to bother with a "good morning" and settled himself at the table with a cup of coffee.
Soon Natasha arrived well groomed and showered as always. Did she even go to sleep? Oh yes, he remembered carrying her to the couch, after dragging Clint off it and onto the floor where he still resided of course, where he was just starting to moan and grumble. "Morning boys." She chirped with a smile, grabbing a mug of tea for herself.
Tony, after downing his glass, broke the silence by clicking on the television. There was a news story on about last nights fireworks display. They all watched the clips of bright colors and roaring crowds. It was nice just sitting in good company without having to worry about anything for a tiny space of time. It seemed he did nothing but worry nowadays.
Eventually Clint heaved himself off the floor and stumbled into the bathroom. Nat, sighing and slowly following him shaking her head. Steve distincly remembered her telling Clint repeatedly not to drink himself off his ass. He had a suprisingly low alcohol tolerance.
After finishing his coffee, Steve got up and moved to the couch. It was low set so he streched his legs out on the equally low coffee table. Back when he was little this couch woudve been huge. He supposed it was ment for Tony especially, he was short like his father.
After a bit he got lost in thought and was surprised when Nat plopped down next to him while Clint showered.
"Watcha thinking about, Rogers?" she queried sweetly as she settled down.
"Hmm? Oh, just lost in the past. You know us old timers." Steve stated dreamily, recalling when Tony teased him about being old, sort of.
Seemingly unsatisfied she pressed on."Oh right, right. Well, Sam was telling me about your progress with that, uh, 'missing persons case'." She looked up at him through her lashes not-so-inocenntly.
Steve heaved a long sigh, let his head drop onto his chest, and closed his eyes. It had been months. 5 months 18 days and 10 hours if he wasnt mistaken, since S.H.E.I.L.D. fell and he'd last seen his friend.
"You mean lack of?" He complained. When Nat had said he was a ghost, she wasnt kidding.
"Oh." She simply replied, nodding and looking away contemplatively. Steve looked down at her.
"Oh?" He asked, never could tell what went through womens heads. Always hinting and giving looks he didnt understand.
"Yeah, I was just curious. Sam says youre being pretty persistent." Steve looked over his shoulder at his friend, he was still nursing his coffee, oblivious.
"Sams been saying a lot has he? Well, hes not wrong." Steve turned back to the television, but didnt pay attention, hed been searching almost none stop. Using every avalible resource, pulling every string in his power, he'd even considered going public with the search. But to no success. He was going to keep trying until it killed him. He was going to find him, no matter the cost. Natasha seemed able to let the conversation drop, for now.