A/N - Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and favourited this story! Here's a quick epilogue; I hope you enjoy it :)

Bucky thinks his world ends when he walks into his room to find Steve, knuckles white around a familiar notebook he should have placed more care in hiding.

It's his own fault; he'd been so clumsily delirious after seeing Steve smile again that he'd made no effort to hide the book after his last entry, momentarily forgetting just how horrific some of the letters were. For all he'd thought about sending the book on to Steve one day, the reality of it had never really sunk in, even in the earlier days where he'd been more Soldier than Bucky. There are things written in those pages that make him feel sick and inhuman; he can still see the young Hydra agent pleading for death and the old man with calm acceptance in his eyes before the trigger was pulled. He can't begin to imagine what Steve must think of him now.

Bucky doesn't blame Steve. Curiosity is a powerful thing, he knows, and it was idiotic not to dispose of the book the minute he'd reunited with his old friend and could talk to him face-to-face, instead of placing lines on a page. He'd just hoped that if Steve had to read it at all, it would be after Bucky was dead and unable to confront the disgust he must surely feel towards him now.

Only, Steve doesn't look disgusted. He glances up the moment he notices Bucky is there and something like shame flashes in his cheeks, but he does not back away. His eyes are wet like he's been blinking back tears and Bucky feels guilt constricting his chest once more, reminding him that he has only ever been able to hurt Steve. He would give anything to see that bright smile instead; the one relic from the past that is real and tangible and does not hurt.

Bucky thinks he would set the world on fire for that smile, and it's a harsh reminder that he is still not a good man.

Steve hesitates in front of him, closing the book over as if that can erase what was read. "I'm sorry, Buck, I shouldn't have..." The words catch in his throat, and it's only now that Bucky notices that he's been holding his own breath. His chest burns and he wants to explode or disappear or both, but instead all he can do is stand still.

Steve recovers quickly, places the book back on the desk he'd lifted it from, and approaches Bucky cautiously, like he's some wounded animal. Still, Bucky can see no disgust or hatred in his eyes, and it makes him wonder if Steve is even capable of feeling it. Anyone else knowing what he'd done as the Soldier would despise him - as they should, he thinks. Instead, Steve stops right in front of him; close enough to touch but too careful to try.

"Is it okay if I hug you?" Steve asks, hesitant, and the question is so unlike the bile Bucky had expected that it barely sinks in. Steve's eyes are pleading, hopeful, and even though he knows he doesn't deserve the comfort being offered, Bucky knows he cannot refuse him.

At his single nod, Steve's arms wrap around him and hold him close; letting Bucky's head rest against his shoulder. He's warm and solid in a way that feels like home, and Bucky knows he doesn't deserve this, but he can't bring himself to pull away. He closes his eyes and wraps his own arms around Steve, lightly so as not to hurt him, and the feeling takes him back to his old life so completely that he cannot breathe.

"You're not a monster," Steve whispers, and it's said with more certainty than the man has shown since they found each other again. Bucky knows that isn't true – seventy years of torture and death too deeply ingrained in his soul to make him anything but a monster – but hearing it from Steve makes him wish it was. He feels more fragile than he can ever remember being since he left Hydra behind, but he finds that it doesn't matter so long as Steve is with him. "You left Hydra when you had the chance and you chose to come back to me. You're not to blame for what they did to you."

Bucky finds that he's shaking and tries to hold himself together but he can't. He doesn't know how Steve is doing it, but he can feel two years of doubt and self-hatred melt away for a few precious moments, and he finds that he wants to believe what Steve is telling him. He'd once thought that he could never be Bucky again, could never even be human again. Perhaps this – accepting that Steve could be right - isn't so impossible either.

He feels Steve pull away slightly and only then does he open his eyes and look up at his friend's face. He's been crying – silent tears sliding down his cheeks – but he doesn't seem to care. Bucky imagines he must look a wreck himself, only he doesn't have the strength to cry.

Steve looks at him for a quiet moment, and it's a moment where Bucky almost expects the facade to fall away; for Steve's eyes to harden and his words to warn him to get the fuck away from him and his friends.

Instead he hears "I love you," followed by "I always will."

And something inside of him shatters.

Later, after he's allowed himself to be cradled in Steve's arms until he can't cry and expose his wounds any longer, he finds himself staring down at the shabby notebook he'd kept for two years – despite buying it with the sole purpose of sending a single letter. He supposes he no longer needs it; it was a barrier between himself and Steve that is no longer needed now that they've opened their hearts to each other so completely.

He's not sure he can bring himself to dispose of it though. There's brutal ancient history in those pages, but there's also recovery and perhaps he needs the reminder of that. Besides, there's room for one more entry and the thought of it makes him smile. The book is no longer a sore point for him – had ceased to be the moment Steve joked they could add his name to the plaque on their apartment (the reminder of which had made Bucky give a raw bark of laughter that surprised even him) – and writing in it no longer brings the trepidation it once had, two long years ago.

He picks up a pen and scribbles a brief, final entry:

18th April 2016

I love you too.

Took us long enough to come out with that, didn't it?

Yours,

Bucky

Leaving the book out in the open is considerably more deliberate this time.