A/N: Fin-Fish Jun-Tenshi- Thank you so much, and I also wanted to acknowledge how amazing I find it that you always comment on my chapters. It makes my day to read what you have to say, and I love that you are so wrapped up in my story!

BruisedTulips- Thank you for your kind words, and I know I try my best when it comes to writing this story. I will admit that some of my earlier chapters I am not entirely happy with because I believe I could do better if I wrote them now, but that is is part of evolving as a writer. I hope you continue to enjoy what I have to give!

January 26, 1945

I walked into the bar/restaurant that held so many memories with just over a year of being in Europe. Within the last few weeks, it had sadly been destroyed in the continuation of the war. Steve sat at a small table alone with a glass of whiskey in his hand. My eyes were sore from crying, but I was able to compose myself well enough to find Steve. He wasn't the one to tell me Bucky died, it was Peggy after I couldn't find either of my best friends when their group came back. I didn't want to believe her but she let me read the report of what happened, and Bucky had fallen from a train during the capture of Zola on their last mission. After crying to Peggy when I finally realized I would never see Bucky again, she asked if I wanted her to look for Steve for me. I told her that I was the one who should be with him, so I calmed down long enough to fund my husband why was just as distraught if not more than I was. If he needed me as much as I needed him, I'd be there. So as sirens were heard from outside, I stepped closer and he must have heard me because he turned to see me staring at him. His eyes were as read as mine probably were, and he cleared his throat and leaned forward trying to hide the fact that we both knew he was crying before. "Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells," he said in a strained voice as he poured more alcohol into his glass. "Create a protective system of regeneration and healing. Which means, um, I can't get drunk." He turned to to me and asked, "Did you know that?"

"Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person," I quietly told him as I grabbed a knocked over chair to sit next to him. "Maybe it's a good thing too. One night turns into two, which turns into a week; before you know it, you've been drunk for over a month straight." He didn't anything but I knew he was reminded of my experience with people drinking their sorrows away. It felt like a lifetime ago, but living with my Uncle after my Aunt died caused me to to never even think of picking up a glass of alcohol after, no matter the circumstances. I never forced my personal choice on those closest to me, but I could also never condone drinking as a method to dealing with pain. "It wasn't your fault," I spoke up again when he looked down and I knew his mind was back to Bucky.

"Did they let you read the reports?" He asked me, still not looking me in the eyes.

"Yes," I said.

He scoffed and shook his head. "Then you know that's not true," he answered and I could see the guilt eating away at his heart.

"You did everything you could, Steve," I reached for his hand and he let me take a hold of it. He didn't respond to my words and I sighed slightly. "It was his choice," I said with a stern voice. "He knew the risks of following you, and he took them in a heartbeat. Bucky died with dignity and you can't negate that by blaming yourself. You respected and believed in him just as he did with you." I squeezed his hand as another involuntary tear rolled down my face. That physical contact with Steve, no matter how small, had always made me feel less like I losing myself and everything around me. When the entire world didn't make sense and everything hurt, a simple touch from him made me know in my heart that something did make sense. I hoped I could provide that for him in the same way.

"I'm going after Schmidt," he finally replied while still looking down. Through his grief, I could also see anger for the people that took our best friend away. "I'm not gonna stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured." I took a deep breath knowing what consequences his words brought. I knew the Steve who entered this war was not the same anymore, and I had to make a choice of accepting him or mourning the loss of who he was. Death was something neither of us had ever wished on someone before; we held great disdain for those who caused us harm in our lives, but we were taught to love and forgive when possible. We may not have lived to those teachings in every aspect of our life, but we had never outright aimed to have people killed. Steve joined the war for the honor of protecting his country and those being persecuted, and to see him want to finish it with seeing Hydra dead, it was certainly a shift in what I was used to. However, I saw that beneath his words were a cry for justice for our dear friend, our family. Bucky had been in our lives for what felt like forever, and I knew it was even longer for Steve than for me. I could never fault him for letting something so traumatic as this war change his perspective on life and in result change him. I loved Steve and we loved Bucky and I would also do whatever I could to take down the people who took him away from us.

"You won't be alone," I told him and he finally looked up at me. I saw all the vulnerability he held and I wanted nothing more than to help him get through this in any way I could because it would also help me get through this loss as well.

March 10, 1945 (Steve's POV)

We knew by this time, Bucky's family back home had been notified of his death. We found it recently that his grave would been located in Brooklyn in the very same cemetery as my mother and Maddi's Aunt. It hurt to think he wouldn't actually be there when we visited though. His life was unfairly taken, and his body never even got to go home. Our last moments together often replayed in my head.

"Remember when Maddi I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?" Bucky asked as we stood at the edge of the mountain.

"Yeah and I threw up?"

"Is this payback?"

"Now why would I do that?" I asked with a smirk on my face.

Today would have been his birthday and it was hard being alone through it. I was on a mission with the other men to take down more of Hydra, and we were so close to getting Schmidt.

"I had him on the ropes," he said after we took out the hydra agent in the train car.

"I know you did," I thought back to when I said the same words to him back when he got rid of the man beating me up years before.

The only thing making me feel better on this day was knowing how close we were. I couldn't imagine how Maddi was going through this day, and I only hoped Peggy and Howard were there to help. Knowing her, she would probably try to go without acknowledging it, but I couldn't judge because I was trying to do the same. The nightmares increased as I relived that moment of losing him every night.

"Get down!" I yelled to him as I pushed him out of the way the moment I saw a Hydra agents.

"Kill him now!" I heard Zola tell the the Hydra man. As we fought him off, Bucky went flying through the hole in the train that was caused by the blast. I quickly took him out with my shield.

"Bucky! Hang on," I yelled as I tried to reach him by climbing on the side of towards him. "Grab my hand," and as I reached out towards him, the piece he held onto broke and he went falling with it. As he fell I could hear him scream but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't even see him anymore with the train moving swiftly away and the valley being so deep below. I cried as I held myself against the train.

I hated Zola with every part of my body, and I hated Schmidt more for putting us through all of this. As we waited for Zola to tell us more about Schmidt's plans, we continued our hunt to take down every other base we could find. I wanted my best friend with me again on these long trips away from my wife. I missed him joking about everything even when nothing seemed funny at all. He was the first person who ever showed anything other than mockery towards me. Sometimes it felt like he wasn't even really gone, but we were just separated like when he first joined the army and I was still back in the States with Maddi.

March 10, 1945

Today was Bucky's birthday and it was hard keeping my mind off of it. I hadn't gotten around to planning a gift or anything yet before it was too late to matter anymore. I try to think about how it wouldn't have mattered anyway because he would have been off with Steve on a mission, but I knew that was ridiculous because there was a difference from him being on a mission and coming back and him being gone forever. It reminded me too much of how easy it was for Steve to also never come back one day. I probably wouldn't even know he was dead until later because that's how it was with Bucky.

A/N: I can't believe I reached 200 followers! I'm so grateful for each and every one of you reading my story! I have gained my intense desire to keep writing again! So that will mean I will be updating more regularly because even though I am busy, I tend to put other things off when I'm this excited to tell the story. Some crazy stuff is headed your way and I secretly hope it's good enough to cause some tears… Let me know your thoughts and predictions and if I get over 10 reviews, I'll probably post the next chapter really soon!