"Hey Steve?" Bucky said, letting himself into Steve's suite. "Steve, I - oh, man. You look like hell."

Steve turned and looked at Bucky. "Hey, Buck."

"I - umm, want me to find you a medic? T'Challa sent a couple of their doctors here with us. I had one poke and prod me for about fifteen minutes before I could get rid of him. He was good, but I'm ok. I know I'm ok. Couple of cuts and bruises, but I don't look like you."

"I - I just need a shower."

"Uh, huh. That's what a lot of people who are about to collapse from serious internal injuries say."

"Buck..." Steve said, his voice sounding far away.

"Well, you're moving like you really are a hundred years old."

"Buck..."

"I've got an idea Steve," Bucky said, unable to to contain himself any longer. He helped Steve shuffle into the bathroom. Bucky put down the toilet seat, and Steve sat down heavily. Bucky took Steve's hand and started removing his gloves.

"Buck, I need to sleep, and I - "

"A soul for a soul, right? That's what Clint said the deal was. A soul for a soul."

"Please don't do this..." Steve said, letting Bucky carefully undress him. "Please don't get my hopes up."

"I knew her, Steve. Years ago. It was Vienna or Prague or, well, that's unimportant, and what our respective missions were is unimportant, but for a couple of weeks..." Bucky remembered to breath, and slowed down. He recounted what he could remember from that time to Steve, who was struggling to stay awake.

"I didn't know that," Steve said, when Bucky finished the tale.

"Yeah, well, we haven't had a lot of time to catch up," Bucky said while he removed Steve's boots and jacket. "Holy shit, Steve," Bucky breathed, seeing Steve's body as he peeled off his jacket.

"Oh yeah, I got beat up by a giant purple alien," Steve mumbled.

"I'm getting the doctor."

"Buck."

"Then stand up, Steve. By yourself, no supports."

"Bucky, I..." Steve said, looking hopeless.

"Nope," Bucky said. "I'm not letting you sit around in pain because of some martyr complex. I'd say don't move, but I'm not sure you can. I'll be right back."

Steve closed his eyes. "Thank-you," he whispered as Bucky raced out of the bedroom.

Almost an hour later, Steve was showered, bandaged up, and tucked up in bed on strict bed-rest orders from the doctor. Bucky sat in the armchair beside the bed, finishing his cup of tea.

"You should go get some sleep," Steve said.

Bucky shook his head. "I need you to hear me out. Because we can't lose Natasha like that. Not like that. Without a body to bury - it's not fair. I, Steve..."

"She's gone, Bucky," Steve swallowed.

"No." Bucky said, shaking his head. "I'm not believing that. There is too much random, weird, unexplainable space-magic nonsense. I am not giving up on her. Not if there's a chance."

Steve looked at the ceiling.

Bucky continued. "Because by rights, we shouldn't even be here. If anything, we should be grey-haired old men, sitting in a nursing home, telling folks increasingly fanciful versions of our wartime adventures. But we're not. We're right here, hardly looking a day past thirty. You crashed a plane into the ice, and stayed there for seventy years until someone thawed you out. And you're still here now. And I - I feel off a moving train, down a mountain-cliff, and I didn't die. I'm still here."

"One in fourteen million and something..." Steve mumbles, as much to himself as Bucky.

"I think miracles happen more than we realise," Bucky said. "I mean, there are literal Norse gods hanging around, including a Valkyrie complete with flying horse. What next? Hercules shows up? It wouldn't surprise me at this rate. These people - we learnt about them at school when studying myths and legends. They're not real. They're not supposed to be, at any rate. But we just fought alongside them. And time travel, and space travel, and time-and-space travel - Steve, it's all a miracle. It's all a one in fourteen million chance. The fact that you survived to adulthood - that's the biggest miracle of all. It felt like every week you were sick with something new, but you never died. You never let it beat you. One more miracle, Steve. Between the two of us, the odds have got to be in our favour. They've just got to be."

Steve wiped his eyes on his pyjama sleeve. "But Clint said she's gone. Gone-gone."

Bucky shook his head. "Well, Clint's an imbecile. She may be currently, but," he sighed. "We have to return the stones, right? Back to when and where they came from so as not to ruin any other timelines. A soul for a soul. That's what Clint said. That was the deal to get the stone. A soul for a soul. So to get it back... it's a fair trade. The skeleton gatekeeper or whoever he was gets the stone back, and we get Natasha."

"We - we can't spread false hope."

"You're on board?" Bucky asked, sitting up straight.

Steve nodded. "It's worth the gamble. But we can't spread false hope. Only those who need to know get told."

"So...?"

"Lang."

"Wanda."

"Wanda?"

"She's distraught," Bucky explained. "She's lost the three people she was closest to. Without Vis and Tony and Natasha, she..."

Steve nodded. "Don't get her hopes up too high, though," Steve said. "There's still a chance it won't work."

"Yeah," Bucky said, "But I'm fairly happy to bet against it."

Bucky stayed and talked with Steve for another half hour before returning to Sam's room, to find that only Wanda remained.

"Where's Sam and Carol?" Bucky asked, sitting down on the bed.

"Sam went to sleep in your bed, and Carol went to sleep in her's. Not that it matters much who sleeps where, because none of us have any personal artefacts here," Wanda said. Her face was pale and her eyes were red, and she looked in desperate need of sleep.

"You waited up for me?"

Wanda nodded. "Sam went to bed about an hour ago, Carol only fifteen minutes or so. I - It was good to talk to her. She's nice. We saved you a piece of pizza."

"Thanks," Bucky said, taking the room-temperature slice from the box.

"How's Steve?" Wanda asked, tucking her knees up to her chest. !

"Bit beaten up," Bucky said, with a mouthful of food, "But he's been worse. He'll be ok."

Wanda nodded. "And you?"

"Huh?"

"What about you? You ran out of here like you'd just been told you'd won the lotto."

"Oh, yeah," Bucky said, swallowing the last of the pizza. "Yeah. About that - Wanda, you can't tell anyone, because it - it might be a pipe-dream. It might not work. I don't want to get your hopes up, but you deserve to know."

"What are you talking about?" Wanda asked.

Bucky couldn't hide his smile. "So, remember Clint saying about the whole 'soul for a soul' thing?"