Hey guys! I'm so sorry for not updating sooner but (as per usual) school is kicking my butt and stealing my time. I'm going to try really hard to write and update more often! Thank you for sticking with me and reading my story! I really appreciate all your reviews :D Just as a heads up, I will be joining Aulizia's timeline next chapter. I can't remember if I mentioned this before (and I'm too lazy to go check right now) but I absolutely love Aulizia's story Broken Pieces. It is centered around Bucky and her OC Amy and I just adore them! So I asked if I could use her character and portrayal of Bucky and she said yes! So I recommend you go read her story (it. is. amazing!) I will let you know which chapters I'm following so you can read Bucky's side of the story too :) I'm so excited for what's to come next! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! :D

"So let me get this straight, you adopted a cat?" Charlie asked, with a smile creeping on her face. Steve chuckled on facetime and stooped down. He brought up a cat that grumbled, looking pointedly grumpy. Charlie laughed at the cat's face and overall demeanor.

"This is Sarge. Say hello, Sarge."

An angry growl reverberated through the phone. Charlie couldn't stop laughing. The cat struggled in Steve's grip and he let it go, earning a scratch on his forearm.

"He is charming."

"So he's a little bit of a pain but I couldn't just leave him by the dumpster. Plus, he's been helping me."

"Helping you?" Charlie asked, taking a sip of tea. Steve dropped his head a little and rubbed his neck.

"Yeah…I haven't gotten very good sleep recently…"

"Nightmares, right?"

"How did you know?" Steve asked, looking surprised. Charlie had noticed the moment his face popped up on her screen. His eyelids sort of drooped and he kept blinking to stay awake. She hadn't said anything knowing how uncomfortable it was to talk about the fears and memories that kept you up at night.

"You look a little tired." Steve let out a sharp laugh and stirred his coffee.

"Are they fears or memories?" Charlie asked. She didn't know if she should prod or let him talk but the only way to find out was to try it, like Nattie had said. Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was already ruffled but he didn't look bad. Charlie kind of liked it actually.

"Both but…they seem more vivid. Sometimes when I wake up, I can still feel the dream or see the scene playing out."

"You see it?"

"Yeah, almost like it's a movie playing out."

"That's awful," Charlie said, eyebrows scrunching in concern. Steve nodded and looked off to the side.

"It does make sense though." That made him look back. Now he was the one confused.

"If you have a higher metabolism and you heal faster, it makes sense that your brain chemistry works at a heightened level too. I'm not sure what makes memories or triggers memories but it makes sense that they would be more vivid. The serum affected everything, not just your muscle," Charlie explained. Now that she'd said muscle, she started noticing it more. Steve was wearing a plain blue shirt that hugged his chest showing a glimpse of the muscle beneath. His arms were in plain sight and they looked like toned steel. Charlie looked down briefly as she felt warmth stretch across her cheeks. What was she doing?

"That…that does make sense. Huh – I hadn't thought of that before," Steve mumbled, blinking in thought. His eyes unfocused as something else caught his attention. Charlie watched, trying to understand what he was looking at or seeing. Every so often, his body would twitch slightly.

"Steve?"

"What? Oh-sorry," Steve apologized, looking sheepish. Charlie furrowed her eyebrows in concern but he missed it.

"Sarge, what are you-no, not that!"

Steve lunged out of the frame to snatch whatever Sarge had gotten his paws on. There was an irritated hiss and a heavy sigh from Steve. He straightened up in the frame, dusting off what looked like a sketchpad.

"What's that?" Charlie asked, tilting her head. Idiot, she scolded, it's a camera. You can't see anything more by doing that. She shook herself and focused on Steve.

"It's my sketchbook."

"You're sketchbook? You draw, Steve?"

"Yeah. I didn't tell you?"

"No," Charlie laughed. "Can I see what you draw?" Steve blinked and flushed.

"Um-sure. They're not very good-"

"You don't have to if you don't want to-"

"No, no. It's just…I don't usually show people. No one really asks," Steve floundered. Charlie smiled slightly.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to see what you draw."

Steve searched her face and gave her a smile of his own. His smile, even small, was perfect and extremely attractive. Charlie found herself captivated by the curve of his lips, the smile lines running towards his nose, the flash of his teeth…

Charlie could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks and she blinked away the thoughts. Well, tried to. Steve wasn't paying attention. He was scanning through his sketchbook, deciding what to show her. Eventually, he turned the sketchbook around and her jaw dropped. Scratched in pen was a mesmerizing view of a city scape. It was rough around the edges but that added to its unique, authentic quality. The picture was fantastic.

"Steve, that's amazing! Ohmygosh," Charlie gushed. Steve blushed in embarrassment but his smile kept getting bigger. It was really distracting.

"This is how I remember New York. And this," Steve explained, flipping the page, "is how New York looks now." Charlie focused on the drawing, ignoring the flip her stomach made when he grinned at her. What was wrong with her today? Like Steve had said, it was an almost exact replica of the first drawing but it looked more modern. There were more skyscrapers and other buildings crowding the paper.

"You're incredible."

"Not really. They're just doodles."

"Just doodles? These are fantastic! I wish I could do something like this."

"What are you talking about? You can bake," Steve corrected. Charlie dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand.

"It's my job and I love it but it's not art."

"I beg to differ."

"You're sweet," Charlie said, hoping he couldn't see her blush.

"So I've been told," Steve retorted. Charlie chuckled which earned her another smile from Steve. Something must have been in the air because her stomach would not stop flipping. But, something Steve had said gave her an idea. Charlie tilted her head in thought, mind whirring.

"Is drawing relaxing to you?" she asked. Steve blinked in thought.

"Yeah, I suppose."

"What if you drew your nightmares?"

"What do you mean?" Steve asked brow furrowed.

"Well, it might help you sleep if you can get the images out. Release them in a way. When you mentioned my baking it gave me the idea."

"I don't follow." Charlie scrunched her nose in thought, taking a deep breath.

"Well, usually when I've had a bad day or night and memories keep surfacing, I bake. It's not just something I love doing; it's therapeutic. I take all the emotion I'm feeling and pour it out into my baking. I like to think I'm taking all the ugly and making something beautiful out of it," Charlie explained. Steve blinked, eyes wide. She suddenly felt self-conscious.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. And it might work…" Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"You could at least try it."

"I will. Thank you. And thank you for telling me," Steve said sincerely. Charlie blinked in confusion. Steve chuckled at her expression, shaking his head slightly.

"You don't usually give up information like that. It's good to see."

"Oh." Charlie looked down in thought. Why had she said it? Steve was right. She didn't just give out information about her past. Maybe it was because it was baking? It had come so easy…

"I don't know why I said it to be honest. I just wanted to help," Charlie admitted with a shrug. Steve looked…happy.

"I'm glad you told me and I think it will help," Steve said. Charlie couldn't help smiling along with Steve. A little bit of his happiness rubbed off and she felt warm. It felt like she'd made a step forward without even trying.

"What's your favorite thing to bake?" Steve asked.

"You mean when I'm in that state? I usually bake a cake with all the works."

"What kind of cake are we talking about?"

"I'm talking chocolate, three tiered…" Charlie described as Steve's eyes got wider. He watched her for a few moments before he grabbed a pen and started scribbling. She kept talking about the typical cake she made, not wanting to stop. Charlie didn't know what it was but something about Steve made her want to talk. She wanted to share what she liked and he wanted to listen.

"So, something like this?" Steve asked, holding up his sketchbook.

A nearly exact replica of what she just described stared back at her. Her jaw was once again on the floor.

"Yes! Ohmyword, that's amazing! You even got the sugar flowers!"

"Well, I tried at least. I don't know what sugar flowers are, didn't even know you could mold sugar into flowers." Charlie laughed, marveling at the drawing. Steve just kept surprising her.

"What do you like to draw?" she asked.

"I don't really have a preference. Just, whatever I find interesting or beautiful. If something catches my eye, it sticks in my mind until I draw it. Which probably means that it should help with the nightmares," Steve concluded. He blinked rapidly, almost as if he was clearing away an image. Charlie's eyes narrowed in concern and she leaned forward.

"Are you seeing a nightmare now?"

"Yeah. Only when I'm not distracted," Steve replied in a low voice. Again, he blinked, body twitching slightly.

"Do you want to try drawing or do you want a distraction?" Charlie asked, concern coloring her voice. If she could help she could but nightmares were tricky. Especially if they were memories.

"Distraction, please."

"Have I ever told you how Nana and Nattie go their nicknames?"

"No." Steve visibly tried to refocus on Charlie. She nodded, thinking back.

"Well, this was back when I was completely unreasonable and flighty. It was hard to understand that Betty and Nathan weren't going to hand me over to the police or that they wanted me. One of their tactics to convince me I could stay was suggesting names that I could call them. They felt weird being called by their first name or Mrs. and Mr. McKinley." Charlie smiled at the memory. She could still see Nana's excited face and Nattie's warm smile.

"They suggested 'Mom' and 'Dad' but I shot that down. Never said a word but I must have shown something on my face because they never brought it up again. They tried variations of their names like 'Beth' or 'Nate.' One night, Nathan just blurted out 'Nattie.' Betty loved it and came up with 'Nana.' If I remember right, I glared at them and stormed to my room. I was always angry," Charlie chuckled. Steve was smiling slightly, engaged in the story.

"It wasn't until I went to Jr. High that I used their nicknames. The smiles on their faces are something that I've never forgotten. It was…" the first time she'd ever felt loved. The happiness she'd seen on their faces had nearly made her cry.

"It was what?" Steve prompted quietly.

"It was…the first time I felt like I'd made someone happy," Charlie said. It wasn't a lie. The truth just felt too raw, too close to home for her to reveal. She glanced at Steve, wondering if he'd caught the half-truth. He did but he didn't mind. He understood the importance of that memory and it wasn't his to hold. Charlie sighed in relief. It wasn't that she was afraid of his reaction, more like she didn't want to be pushed. She liked that Steve prodded more than others but it never felt like prodding. It was curiosity and concern, wrapped into one. This time, there was no need for prodding.

It was two days later that the subject of nightmares came up again. It was evening this time and Charlie was nursing a warm cup of mint tea. Steve had just stepped out of the shower, hair damp with Sarge prowling on the back of the couch. They had talked about everything under the sun from her work to his search for Bucky. There had been no results and Steve was frustrated. He was more relaxed now after talking with Charlie. She wondered if it was her or just the act of talking to someone who listened.

"So, nightmares are better?"

"Depends on the night. Last night was a better night. Sarge only woke me up twice. The other night I ended up just staying up, drawing." Upon his name, Sarge made a low growl in his throat and pawed Steve's hair. Steve reached up to pet Sarge but he growled again. Steve chuckled and stood still as Sarge inspected his hair. He was a strange cat.

"What are your nightmares of?" Steve asked suddenly. Charlie blinked in surprise.

"My nightmares?"

"Yeah-well you don't have to tell me if you don't want but I just assumed and you-"

"It's mostly my father I see," Charlie quietly interrupted. Steve held his tongue. She looked up, searching for the right words. Flashes of her father, of her nightmares came to her mind. Her hands started to shake.

"Usually he's yelling. I really hate when people yell because it always reminds me of him. The worst ones are when I don't wake up when…when he starts hitting me. And, I don't know if you get this, but my hands always start shaking when I think about him or any of my past really." Charlie held up her shaking hands. She thought about forcing a smile, pretending it was fine, but it wasn't. And Steve didn't deserve that façade either.

"The worst ones for me are the deaths that shouldn't have been. Like, Peggy lying dead in the helicarrier or my mom bleeding out on the field. The people I care about getting hurt on the battlefield, where they're not supposed to be. Those and the memories are the worst," Steve said. He looked up at her and their gazes met.

"My hands don't shake but I always feel…exposed after a nightmare. A bad memory. I don't know how else to describe it."

"Yeah."

Charlie didn't know what else to say. Neither did Steve. Sarge broke the silence by meowing loudly and pouncing on Steve's head. Steve gave a cry of surprise and swatted Sarge away. Sarge in turn, retreated momentarily before advancing on Steve's shoulders. He stuck his claws in Steve's shoulder and flicked his tail in Steve's face. Steve sighed heavily but couldn't help laughing at the cat's antics.

"Speaking of Peggy," Charlie said, "have you visited her grave since the funeral?" Steve's mood dropped again and he frowned. Charlie kicked herself for bringing her up. And right after the nightmare talk. She'd just blurted the question out, concerned about Steve.

"I-sorry-I don't mean to pry-I just thought-"

"It's alright Charlie," Steve interrupted. "I haven't gone to see her." Sarge settled on Steve's shoulders and even let Steve pet him. Steve was looking away from the camera, deep in thought.

"There's just been so much going on that I haven't…thought about it. Maybe I didn't want to-I don't know."

Charlie swallowed her words. There was so much she wanted to say. She wanted to offer comfort or support or an apology but all of her words sounded weak. So she stayed silent, watching as Steve pushed his grief to the side. That's not what he needed either but she didn't know what to do.

"I…sorry, Steve," Charlie said softly. Steve shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He looked so lost and it tore Charlie's heart a little.

"It's okay. Um-random question. I've been meaning to ask this but how do I put a password on my phone?"

"You don't have a password on your phone?" Charlie asked.

"No…"

"Steve, how do you not have a password on your phone!?" Charlie gave an exasperated laugh which made Steve's lips twitch into a smile.

"I wasn't thinking."

"Okay, well you go to settings…" Charlie walked him through the steps as he wrote them down.

"Do you have an idea what you want for you password? You can do a pattern or a word or a special date…" Charlie trailed off. Steve looked thoughtful for a moment. His expression turned sad but not as lost as he was before.

"Yeah. I think I have an idea," Steve said. Peggy. Charlie smiled sadly.

"I think that's a great password." Steve nodded, petting Sarge absentmindedly. Charlie glanced at the time and winced.

"Sorry, Steve. I need to go."

"Oh yeah. It's late. Sorry."

"It's not your fault. Good luck with the search for Bucky and Steve…" Charlie bit her lip, scrambling for words. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to poke a wound."

"Sometimes wounds need to be poked. Don't worry about it, Charlie. And thank you for talking with me," Steve said.

"Of course. Talk to you soon."

"Goodnight Charlie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Charlie said. She pressed the end call button. The last thing she saw was Steve's small smile and kind eyes.

Oh, please let me know if there are lots of grammar mistakes! And if you have any constructive criticism, I would love to hear it! Thanks again for reading :D