A/N: Thank you so much for the kind reviews. I know I'm in the same boat as the rest of you when it comes to Infinity War and Endgame, and I've tried to navigate my way through it via Gin, and drawing from a personal loss. As always, thank you for sticking around.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT – Still Searching

"You seem to be doing better now you're settled in." Natasha's voice filled the silence of the room.

I glanced at her as she came to stand beside me, the two of us watching Tony show off the playhouse he'd made for Sara and his newly arrived daughter Morgan.

Pride swelled to see how he interacted with his daughter, and it was all too easy to forget how I'd worried about him once, fearing he'd never find the happiness Howard found with Maria. Although, I secretly worried Howard's fierce romancing would lead to a sad, lonely bachelor. If only my dear friends were alive now, to see the man their son had become.

"I have a lot to be grateful for," I murmured. "I have more than most."

Though I heard the words in my own voice, I didn't always believe them. Lingering in the background during Pepper's pregnancy, I struggled to keep my emotions in check – unreasonable jealousy at her happiness, grief for still feeling the loss of Michael and various levels of anger and happiness that usually came about in day-to-day living.

"You and Steve still haven't talked though." Natasha pointed out.

Steve. Even more emotions brewed, festering beneath my fragile control.

"I know the two of you keep busy working with the others, finding some sign of hope of reversing what happened."

"That's not what I meant." Natasha's amused tone drew a hot flush to my face, yet my gaze remained fixed on Tony's smiling face. "Y'know," she began. "No one would care if you two got together, I think we all kinda expect it."

"We've never been that way inclined," I sighed folding my arms across my chest. "It was a stupid kiss; a goodbye and I'm sorry for punching you, and I'll miss you, and… it was just an emotional response to a very strained couple of weeks."

"It was some emotional response," She cocked an eyebrow. "He didn't blush like that after I kissed him."

I fought an eyeroll and another revealing blush. "It didn't mean anything."

"You don't avoid someone for almost a year for no reason." She teased, gently judging my side with an elbow.

"We have different priorities these days. Personally, I don't think either one of you should be living in that mausoleum."

"It's all we know." All playful banter blew out of her as she sighed roughly, her entire posture returning to a rigid stance suitable for a spy.

"That's what I used to think, look at me now."

"You're not as happy as you make out." Natasha turned to me, the flash of anger in his eyes reflecting in her tight tone. "I know you miss him, as much as he does you. It's sad you're both too stubborn to see what's right in front of you."

I fought through the lump in my throat to swallow, running a hand back through my hair.

"I know what Barnes means to you both, but weren't there other guys after you lost him last time?"

"It was different," I mumbled.

"How?" She pressed directly.

I couldn't bring myself to answer for a long time, churning over thoughts typically dismissed as betrayal. I stole a glance at my wedding ring, the gold band heavier with each passing day Bucky wasn't a part of my life.

At night, when finally, alone in bed, I'd lay awake for hours replaying those decisive moments in Wakanda. If I'd made it into the clearing sooner maybe I could've helped Steve defeat Thanos. Maybe my strength added to his or Thor's and we would've won. Maybe then this gaping hole in my soul wouldn't have resurfaced – grown tenfold and ruined every shred of happiness I'd ever fought to claim.

"Steve will never give up hope that he can save the day," I finally admitted without bitterness. In fact, it was a trait of his I quite admired. "I don't think being here with me and Sara would be enough."

"You don't know that–"

"I do," I objected promptly, tapping a hand against my chest. "I know in my heart, if there was even the slightest inkling of romantic feeling towards me, don't you think something might've happened by now?"

"I don't know, he's pretty old-fashioned when it comes to things like that."

"It doesn't matter either way," I dismissed her comment with a shake of my head. "My life is here and Sara's more than enough for me."

"You keep telling yourself that." Natasha headed down the steps, her final words hurting more than they should've of.

-x-

Driving to the city sobered my thoughts, allowed a rational mind to come fought and tell me making the first move was the right course of action – whether Steve accepted me or not, it wasn't the point, just to mend bridges was enough. Yet as I parked and exited the vehicle, walking up to the double doors and knowing my best friend was on the other side, fear crept in, threatening to expose the coward I was.

Stepping away from the door, I shook out my limbs and gave myself a pep talk. "You've got this Renard, you've fought Nazi's and your father, how hard can group therapy be?"

Grabbing the door handle and swallowing my fear, I walked into the hall, discovering a small group of people gathered in the middle of the room. They sat on plastic chairs in a circle, Steve talking while they listened.

Quietly approaching, Steve's attention shifted, his keen hearing stopping me in my tracks. The rest of the group caught the intrusion, all eyes placing an uncomfortable spotlight upon me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." I offered a feeble smile. "I can come back another time–"

"You can sit here." A darkhaired man, probably not much younger than Michael patted the empty chair next to him. "Everyone's welcomed."

"Thanks," I flashed him a smile as I sat. "Please, go on." I motioned to Steve.

"Ah, I was just saying we've gotta find purpose, take the small wins as they come along." Steve cleared his throat. "Why don't you tell us your story?" He suggested looking directly at me.

"Me?" I blurted as Steve nodded. "I'm sure my story isn't any different to everyone else's."

"You must be here for a reason?" He challenged.

"I…" I exhaled a long breath focusing on the hideous color of the carpet rather than my fingers clawing at my jeans. "I realized very recently that I don't handle grief very well, not that there's a manual on how to deal with it, but I push people I love away. I try to inflict my pain on others, and I figured it was about time I tried to find another way."

I looked up meeting Steve's gaze, his stern expression gone, substituted with curiosity. My gaze dropped instantly back to the carpet, the hideous stain nearby focusing my attention to get out what I needed to say.

"I pushed my friend away, inflicted my anger on him without even acknowledging what he'd lost. You see, my friend, he puts everyone else first and never expects anything in return. He's been at my side on some of my darkest and happiest days." I drew in a shaky breath, a dampness forming at the corners of my eyes. "I left the only life I've known and thought hiding away would ease my broken heart, but I think I feel it worse because maybe I've pushed him away for good." A hand rose to the faithful locket around my neck, it's cool chain a stinging reminder of our tangled past.

"Have you tried apologizing?" The young man questioned, the simpleness of his question drawing a small smile to my lips.

"I don't think it's enough," I told him. "It's not the first time I've hurt him. But I regret every harsh word I've said to him, and I'm sorry for almost breaking his nose, and I wish I could go back in time and change every lie I told, every secret I kept from him… whatever it would take to have him back in my life."

"You sound sorry to me." The young man's reassuring tone gave me a boost of courage to look over at Steve.

"I am so sorry, for everything." I inhaled sharply, drained from the sudden explosion of emotional release. Steve looked around the group, rising to his feet.

"I think that's enough for today, we'll meet again same time next week." He smiled warmly at the group, saying his goodbyes whilst I remained seated, unable, or unwilling to move.

Steve's sigh snapped me from my self-imposed exile, he dragged a chair right beside me, dropping into it.

"Did you mean it?" he asked unsurely.

Any other time I would've scolded his tone, but to truly move on accepting his disbelief was a part of the process.

"Every word. And I'm sorry for kissing you like that in front of Nat and Pepper."

A redness filled his cheeks. "Don't be, it was a rough couple of weeks, none of us were thinking straight."

"It wasn't that bad, was it?"

His blushed deepened, drawing a laugh from me.

"I'm pulling your leg." I nudged his side, his body eventually relaxing, a smile chasing away his tense expression. "Can you forgive one last time?"

"There's nothing to forgive, we're friends no matter what." He reached for my hand, pulling me up as he stood.

Holding his hand tightly, I felt as if I'd reclaimed a cherished part of my past, one I vowed never to let go of again.