I am so sorry for the long wait! I've been having major problems with uploading chapters with my account on my personal computer. I still don't know the reason why but I'm using a different computer and it seems to be working. It must be my computer but I honestly don't know. Anyways, I am so so sorry! I have had this chapter written since last fall but haven't been able to upload it. Please let me know what you think! Also, this chapter and the following chapters tie into Auzilia's Broken Pieces story in chapter 13. You should definitely go read it because it is amazing and her story is amazing! (I'm just borrowing her characters because I like them so much ;) (I have her permission to do so). Anywho! Enjoy! :D

Charlie sighed as she looked at the row of cereal. Nana liked the sugary cereals, Nattie liked the healthy cereals, and she didn't like cereal at all. She could only buy one more so which would it be? Her phone buzzed in her pocket, saving her from her decision for a little while longer.

"Hello?"

"Hey Charlie – I uh – I could use your help grocery shopping again?" Steve said. Charlie smiled and chuckled.

"Of course. What are you trying to make?"

"Something simple. I almost burnt the lasagna last night."

"But it was frozen."

A deep sigh resounded from the phone. "I know."

"Are you alright, Steve?" Charlie asked. She had been walking down the aisle but she stopped and stared at the floor. Steve sounded…tired.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Been better, but doing okay."

"You sure about that answer?"

Steve chuckled.

"No, I guess not. I'm just tired. I haven't gotten the best sleep and it's just…hard."

"I can imagine." Charlie ran her fingers over a cereal box to look like she was doing something but she wasn't really staring at anything. It had been a week since Bucky had come back to Steve. Charlie really hadn't heard much from him except when they'd talked about groceries. Super exciting. She'd been worried about how it was going – about him – but she'd restrained herself from calling. Steve needed time with his friend. They had been robbed of seventy years together, even though Charlie had no idea how Bucky had survived that long. Steve had mentioned HYDRA but there had to be more to the story that he couldn't say over the phone.

"So, is he pretty different?" Charlie asked, trying to prompt Steve to talk.

"Yes and no. He still gives me hell about the stupid things I do but there's…I don't know – more behind his eyes. Does that make sense?" Steve asked. "I think it comes with seeing so much war. I probably have it to."

"You do."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I saw it when you visited. It's how I knew you were a soldier."

"Huh."

Someone called to Charlie and she waved back, smiling. She should probably move out of the cereal aisle but who was watching her? Charlie turned back to the cereal, opting to make Nattie happy this week. She picked up her basket and turned down the next aisle.

"It's not him that's difficult."

"Really?"

"I'm serious," Steve chuckled. "It's what he remembers. I – I haven't talked about my life before the army in a really long time. I didn't realize how painful it would be."

"Oh, Steve."

They both fell silent as the words sunk in. Charlie didn't know much about Steve's past but she had known it was hard, at least because he had been sick all the time.

"Well, I didn't mean to tell you my sob story. I was thinking – maybe like spaghetti? I can't mess that up right?" Steve said, changing the subject. Usually Charlie would push, get him to talk more, but the middle of the supermarket wasn't really the place for that.

"That is hard to mess up," she agreed, smiling. "Do you know how to boil water?"

"Ouch."

"Just had to check." Charlie had to smother her laughter. She was in the middle of the supermarket.

"Yes," Steve sighed dramatically. "I know how to boil water. Should I do a salad too?"

"Salad and pasta go well together. If you add some cherry tomatoes, it adds a nice sweetness to the salad."

"Okay, I'll do that. Is there anything else I should get?"

"Sauce?"

"I got that and meatballs back at home."

"Then you're all set."

"Thanks, Charlie. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, Steve," Charlie said softly. They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone. She looked up to find herself in the paper towel aisle. How had she ended up there? She looked down at her list and checked off cereal.

"Was that Mr. Not-your-boyfriend?"

"Hello, Bentley," Charlie greeted, turning towards the voice. Bentley was standing at the end of the aisle, smirking. Charlie rolled her eyes.

"How's he doing?"

"Alright. Things haven't been easy since SHIELD fell so he's adjusting."

Bentley grunted in agreement. Charlie thought about reprimanding him about the boyfriend thing again but let it drop. Bentley didn't mean any harm. He was kind of like her adoptive grandfather, even though he was similar in age to Nana and Nattie. When she'd begun to stay in this town, he'd slowly become her protector. She would go over to his house when she was bored and he'd teach her how to tinker. This is how you fix a radio. This is how you get a stain out of the carpet. This is how you shoot. This is how you put out a grease fire. Small things but they'd grown close over them. Charlie didn't know if Bentley had a family and she'd never asked. She'd seen a picture once of a woman and small girl but Bentley never looked at the picture. There was too much pain behind his eyes for her to ask.

"So you're placating Nathan this week, huh?"

"Yeah. I should probably buy both but – "

"They'd yell at you for indulging them."

"Exactly," Charlie chuckled. "How have you been, Bentley?"

"Me?" Bentley asked. "Oh I'm fine. Just doing the same stuff I always do."

"And I have no idea what that is. I'm a little too scared to ask."

"Don't let your imagination run wild. It's nothing exciting like your boyfriend does."

"Bentley, he is not my – "

"I know, I know. I'm just riling you," Bentley chuckled. Charlie rolled her eyes but smiled.

"You should practice shooting with me sometime," Bentley said abruptly.

"What?"

"Shooting. You should practice again."

Charlie tilted her head in confusion.

"Why? You know I don't like hunting."

"I know but it's always good to know how to handle a gun. They're just a tool if you treat them like one. The more familiar you are with them, the less they'll scare you. You should practice again."

"Oh, okay. I'll let you know when I can," Charlie said. Bentley nodded and went towards the far cash register. Charlie watched him in confusion and then shook herself. She stood in line and looked at the mints, wondering if she still had some.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when a man stepped up behind her. She pretended to look at the gum to catch him in her peripherals. He was tall, wearing dark colors, and trying to look natural. It wasn't working.

His eyes darted towards her and she looked straight ahead. It's probably nothing, she thought. You're just jumpy and overreacting. She forced herself to stay in line and wait her turn. She greeted the cashier with a smile and ignored her beating heart. The man had set down a pack of beer and a toothbrush. Why was she so on edge?

"Here's your change, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Madeline. Have a good day!" Charlie said, picking up her bags.

"I'll see you at the diner tonight!"

Charlie cringed but forced a smile. She didn't want the man to know where she worked. And she couldn't understand why he made her nervous. It wasn't unusual to wear dark colors in this town but…she'd never seen him either. He's probably just passing through, it's fine. Charlie took a breath and looked outside. She didn't want to walk alone. Stop being silly, it's the middle of the day! But still – she hesitated.

"I guess you're not rid of me yet. I'll walk you out," Bentley said, coming up on her right. She tried not to visibly sigh in relief.

"You're too kind." She threw one last covert glance at the man before following Bentley. He was staring straight ahead but his jaw was clenched.

"I'd like you to come over to my place, Charlie. Could use a baker's opinion about my oven," Bentley asked.

"Sure thing," Charlie answered. "Thank you, Bentley." He nodded.

Steve opened his apartment door to find Bucky sitting at the coffee table with the laptop open. Maybe he was actually taking Steve's advice about catching up on history. Even though Bucky had heavily influenced that history.

"How is everything?" Steve asked. He looked around the room warily. There were no signs of a nightmare-rage. That was good.

"I managed not to cause the end of civilization while you were gone," Bucky answered.

"Funny." Steve dropped the bag of groceries on the table. "What are you looking at?"

"Iraq."

"The country?"

"The 2003-2011 war."

"Why?" Steve asked, confused. Then it turned to concern. "Did you remember something else? Do you think you were there?"

"No."

Steve sighed, back to confusion.

"So what, you thought you needed a few more demons in your head?"

"These aren't mine," Bucky replied quietly. Steve narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to question, but his phone beeped, effectively distracting him.

I'm downstairs. Bring psycho-killer if you have to.

Steve hesitated. He hadn't talked to Bucky about this. He'd been surprised she hadn't come up in conversation at all. Steve had been too preoccupied to ask before but now…

"Problem?" Bucky asked.

"Sam's waiting downstairs," Steve answered. He watched Bucky's reaction. His face didn't visibly move but there was recognition in his eyes and uncertainty. Sam had come by two days earlier, to check if Steve was still alive, and it had been tense.

"What's he waiting for?"

"To see if we want to go with him to visit your girl Amy."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and Steve instinctively prepared for a punch. Bucky hated being teased about women.

"No."

"No?" Steve asked, the slight smile slipping off his face. "What do you mean 'no?' I know you haven't talked to me about her, but I thought you'd want to see her. I thought she helped you?"

"She did. A lot."

Something crossed Bucky's face that Steve hadn't seen yet. There was guilt and regret and something entirely new. Bucky snapped the laptop shut and rubbed a hand across his jaw.

"It's complicated."

"You're telling me she wouldn't want to see you?"

Bucky didn't answer and Steve seized the opportunity.

"Sam wants Amy to check out his Falcon wings. She sounded pretty keen on seeing them last week."

Bucky still didn't answer. Steve watched as his friend battled with himself, emotions flitting over his eyes. He'd never seen Bucky this conflicted about a woman. Confidence in his guess grew and Steve smiled to himself. This was something new and something good in his friend's life. Like hell was he going to let him pass up the chance to see her again.

"I know what's bothering you," said Steve.

"I doubt it."

"You're scared of hurting her. But I promise, you're not going to hurt her by going to see her. I think you might by staying away though."

"How do you – ?" Bucky scrambled.

"Best friend, remember," Steve said. His smile turned bittersweet. "Try to keep up."

"Wow, you actually made it. I thought you two had tripped over your walkers or something," Sam said in greeting.

"Nice to see you too, Sam," Steve sighed, rolling his eyes.

Bucky didn't say anything. Sam pulled out of his spot and started down the road.

"So, how's the VA?"

"Hard. Boring. Same old."

"Yeah?"

"Yep, nothing exciting except worrying about your stupid a** and psycho-killer."

"Sam…"

"Ah ah, no lectures in my car."

Steve dropped it and shook his head. He glanced in the rear view mirror. Bucky didn't seem to be paying attention. He was tense, staring out the window. Steve and Sam continued to banter back and forth. They pulled into Amy's neighborhood and Bucky tensed. Steve could feel it all the way from the back seat. He turned around but Bucky was still. And then he was out the door as soon as Sam stopped the car. Steve and Sam exchanged a look before following suit.

Should he be worried? When Bucky had said complicated, did he mean that Amy didn't want to see him? What had happened between them?

"Bucky?" Steve called. All Bucky did was nod towards the mailbox. Which was overflowing with mail.

Steve's skin grew cold.

His eyes scanned the area quickly, assessing everything. Sam had picked up on the threat, too. They followed Bucky into the house, which wasn't locked. Bad sign, bad sign. Sam went to the right and Steve stayed with Bucky. He had a feeling that he shouldn't leave him alone. Bucky looked around and his eyes settled on the kitchen table. He picked up a pair of car keys, weighing them in his hand.

"Maybe she decided to go out of town for a while?" Steve suggested. But it was half-hearted. They both knew that wasn't the case.

"Hey, Steve! You need to see this," said Sam. Bucky and Steve followed Sam's voice into the living room. He was standing on a chair, digging something out of the walk with a pocketknife. Steve was growing more tense and more confused by the second.

"Bullet," Sam said, throwing it to Steve, who looked at it, and then showed it to Bucky. What was going on?

"What do you think? Looks like it came from a handgun," Steve stated. Bucky was struggling, his eyes desperate but his stance prepared. For the first time in a week, Steve saw the control of the Winter Soldier.

"Amy was carrying one the morning I met you," Bucky said.

"All right." Nothing was all right but he had to say something. Steve was watching Bucky carefully and he could tell Bucky was near shattering. Usually it took a few nightmares to get him to this point but not today. Not with Amy.

"Let's assume its Amy's," Steve continued. "It looks like she was standing in the doorway where you are," he pointed to Bucky, "Aiming at someone sitting on the sofa opposite. But something caused her to misfire?"

"She was tackled from behind." Bucky's voice was cool, clinical. It didn't match the emotion warring in his eyes.

"You think so?"

Bucky didn't say anything but the answer was in his silence. He knelt down, feeling the carpet. He picked something up and Steve watched the effort it took for his friend to swallow. Bucky touched the carpet again, froze, and then pried something out of the floorboard with his left hand.

"Christ," Steve swore, seeing the bullet.

"HYDRA," Bucky growled, crushing the bullet in his hand. "They went after her the day you took down SHIELD."

"What? Why?" This was news to Steve. It didn't make sense that HYDRA was after Amy. She was just a SHIELD agent, an engineer that had helped their assassin. Did they know Bucky had stayed with her? Was that why they were after her?

"She told me she worked on Project Insight. Helped design the carriers. Said someone called Hill asked for her help. Wanted to know if it was possible to disable them."

Steve paled and his stomach flipped. HYDRA might know she had helped Bucky but they would not be happy that she had helped him ruin their plans.

"They're going to want to kill her."

"If she's not already – you know."

"No. They'll want to use her," said Bucky. He looked sick.

"How'd they even find her?" Sam asked.

"The same way we did, maybe?" Steve replied. "The whole of SHIELD was compromised remember."

Something dawned on Bucky's face and for the first time, his features slipped. Panic, horror, and guilt washed over his face. He closed his fists tightly and turned to Steve.

"You've got to help me find her, Steve."

"I know."

Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the one person he knew could help with any request.

"Natasha. I need a favor."