All Bucky felt toward him was love. It always had been, and it always would be. Steve would deny his feelings for Bucky, but it was obvious. Steve looked at pictures of him with an immense amount of pain and passion, which could either end in a very good way or a very bad way.
"Bucky. He's alive. He's not dead. He's breathing. He's living. He's within Winter somewhere, I know he can't be gone. He's still there. I saw it..." As Steve blathered on about Bucky in the corner, Natasha sat back to back with him gently whispering calming things. "Steve, it's 2:00. We need to get to bed." It had been a couple of days since Bucky had dragged Steve onto that shore, and he still couldn't believe it. He cried at night when he thought Natasha couldn't hear him, but she did. She insisted on staying in his apartment after all of this-this HYDRA shit hit the fan because she was worried about him.
She gently took his wrists and lifted him from the corner."I know. I know he's alive. I know it hurts. Steve, you need sleep. And I need sleep. Please, let's go to bed." She led him to his room, lay him down on his bed, and curled up on his couch."It'll all be ok. It will be ok. We'll all be fine." She didn't notice tears streaming down her face. What if it wasn't going to be ok? One of her best friends was depressed and in shock beyond belief, many people were after them, and the organization that saved her and made her who she was had shattered to pieces. What the hell was she going to do?
